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#it’s even worse now that I can understand her because I now Know for certain her only motivation is that they look edible
withoutatrace-pkmn · 1 year
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actual footage of singe when I tell her she can’t eat that cool rock she found on the ground that kind of looks like a jellybean
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packsvlog · 23 days
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☕️⌇ ◜ OFFICE HOURS ◞ ⠀⠀⠀
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╰⠀boss!nanami x secretary!reader where . . . nanami kento can’t let people know the reality that he, under no circumstances, belongs to them. in fact, is quite the contrarie. everyone in this job is a puppet willingly letting him pull the strings. you more than anyone. after committing the bizarre mistake of telling nanami your true intentions with him, your boss is more than eager to comply your desires and just maybe, forget he first input of no belongings.
cw. too much swearing, fingering with others present (not caught), fem!reader, reader keeps daydreaming w. nanami, slightly age gap but non-important all legal, public sex, overstimulation, they both keep failing to hide, possessiveness, love bites, he slap her thigh once, bit of blood because of self lip biting 4.9k words, english is not my first language.
an. hi, hello, i want everyone to know i’m this man wife. this is, in fact, our love story, i used to serve his coffee, now i’m serving my puss— anyways, enjoy it. FYI nanami smells like either tom ford tobacco vanille or byredo bibliothèque.
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There are certain events in the workplace ── a sequence, if you may ── that serves as a warning to everyone that Mr. Nanami Kento has arrived.
Not many months ago, you were clueless to the symphony of presentation he had, even before stepping into the room. Now, though, it’s engraved in your mind. Much like he is. It is, also, a dirty secret to have that you eagerly wait for it, everyday.
Halting the tack-tack of your fingers on the keyboard, your ears pick the first signal ── rushed footsteps. All opening space so he can pass without the need to raise his eyes, hidden by sunglasses, from his cellphone. The second is the whispers and swooning. Some, more brave than others, compliment him out loud. Always about his peculiar ties, and always he smiles back. Lastly, when Nanami is in your sight of view, he is accompanied by his signature scent that greets you before he even does.
The most raw way to describe his smell is by saying that you wish you could crack him open, and lay inside of him forever. It’s comfortable and addicting and it makes you want to kiss him until it can permanently fixates on you.
In more proper synonyms, Nanami Kento smells like caramel, wood and a bit smokey. He is hot to the touch, one can admit. You don’t fall far from these thoughts, but sometimes, when you are not eye-fucking your boss, you think he smells like a cozy cabin in the woods.
Perfect place to fuck him, though.
Is easy to imagine such a thing. You can picture him with thick sweat covering his body, like a second layer, as he comes inside with a hatchet and wood for the fireplace. And you can, also easily, imagine yourself on your knees sucking him so good, as way to thank him for keeping you warm.
It’s a Kento effect. Everywhere he passes, people tend to have a heat stroke. You are no better than the others. Probably worse. He, however, does not need to know that. Nanami’s plate is already filled to the brims with people gazing him as a snack, he doesn’t need his personal assistant to do the same.
Not in front of him, anyways.
So, when he comes near your table, and stop to take whatever you have for him (work related, honey, even when you wish it was your pussy), you present the calls he need to answer with a compliment for his shoes and a black coffee with pretzels.
He adores you.
You want to fuck him senseless.
A perfect imperfect balance of clashing feelings. His are professional, yours are not even close. He only steps over the boundaries when it’s to call you “Darling” and you only do so in your head, when you think of laying on his table and letting him feast on your dripping cunt.
He is gentle and caring.
You wouldn’t mind chanting his name loud enough for everyone to understand what’s happening.
He departs ways and you share a trembling sigh with your inner turmoil of emotions. He makes you have a constant fever. In fact, with him, everything is constant. You want to fuck him everyday, you touch yourself with his voice in your mind guiding you. He gets pretty out of character in your alone mind, though.
Real Nanami is a sweetheart. Your Nanami would make you cry while on his cock.
“── and the meeting room needs to be ready by eleven, you can do all that, darling?” He asks. He asks! He is talking with you.
“I, uh, I’m sorry, Mr. Kento,” You stutter before shifting your attention from your computer screen to his charming understandable smile. “could you repeat, please?”
“Sure, darling.”
You need to put extra neurons to work when eyeing his pink lips moving gracefully. Is it the same shade as his cock? Oh, you hoped so. That would be your favorite color, would paint your nails, your hair, anything.
“Got it now?” Nanami curls his lips as he question you. You can’t lie to him, so you sign that No, you did not payed attention. He chuckles and comes closer, resting both hands in fist on your table, letting himself down so he can be face to face with you. “I need you to order mine, yours and the lunch for the usual gentleman I talk about the finances, ── you have that noted, right?” You nod, and he proceeds. “Then, I want you to decorate the meeting room, the way you always do.” You nod again, and he moves back. You want to whine. “Good girl.”
Pause.
That’s new. It’s like achieving a new item in a game. A new level. That’s a prize, the greatest form of enlightenment one could have. You feel warm in your chest and cheeks, but dare not to sway your eyes from his twinkling ones. You wonder if he knows what you are thinking, or if he knows the power he has over you ── over everyone.
That’s Nanami Kento. The man with a dazzling aura, it touches all in proximity, no one survives him. If he wants, you are his. Hooked like a worm, willingly ready to be devoured by a fish, and the thing is no one knows if Nanami is said fish or the fisherman.
The secret about his success is not only the sweet talk he does, but the way he can easily take it away. And no one wants to be away from his warmth. You’ve seen it before, how he controls people ── some more powerful than your mind can comprehend, they all are puppets for him to pull the strings. He touches and praises them when they do what he wants, but Nanami grows cold and absent when they don’t.
Everyone wants to be loved by him, so everything this enterprise does, it revolves around Nanami.
He can be a scary man when he wants, and you’ve heard the tales, from time to time. With you, fortunately, he is just your nice boss. And a part of you wish he would cradle you into his arms and play with you like a marionete. His doll. Yeah, you want to be his fucking doll.
Tempted to ruin this lunch and be ravished by his famine, you shake your deranged thoughts and focus on ordering the food. Also asking for red velvet cookies for you and Mr. Gojo, the owner of this whole enterprise.
A cocky young man, that likes to devour your physique whenever you come inside the room. He is rich and beautiful and his name is always on the newspaper with gossip mostly involved. You could fall for him, could fuck him, but he is not Nanami.
He doesn’t boss you around gently, nor he makes you crave his scent on lonely nights. He makes you shy, but not timid and horny. In fact, you don’t even think about Satoru Gojo unless you are balancing his persona with Nanami’s. That’s sad for him.
You keep doing that ── the thoughts, the sexual dreams ── while preparing the meeting room with a charming decoration. Black glasses, black plates, all with golden details. Satoru Gojo himself payed for it, not that he knows or care. You commented once, Nanami liked, and moved his toys in favor of buying the expensive kitchen utensils you wanted. He even made sure to get some for your own house.
The last part is closing the thick black curtains around the room, for privacy. Someone comes inside the second you step back from the last tapestry, and when you turn, Nanami is there.
“How’s everything?” His fingers press on the table, moving swiftly with him, closer to you. “You’ve got cookies?” There is amusement in his question.
“Mr. Gojo’s secretary, Suguru, told me he was craving something sweet.” You turn back to the table behind you, stacking the sweet in a small mountain. “He always gets fussy if he doesn’t get his daily large intake of sugar.”
You grabbed one, knowing that half of it was rightfully yours, and twisted on your heels. Nanami scared you in two sequential situations after that. The first being his looming presence right in front of you, piercing gaze on you, shifting between your eyes. He was searching for something in it, so, you tried the hardest you could to give him something back. Eyes that said “please, fuck me.”
Maybe it worked. The next thing he did, that scared you, was bending down and biting your cookie. Eyes never leaving yours. You gulped, he smirked.
“Please, fuck me.”
He chocked.
See, your eyes were supposed to be the one speaking for you, but Nanami also has this super power that no one can lie to him. He wants something, he gets it delivered in a silver plate. He knows everyone’s secret, and yours were never safe, just happened to be hidden in a line of things that weren’t priority for him. Not until now, at least. He wanted to know what you were hiding, and you gave it to him.
“I ──” The words are struck behind your teeth. Nanami eagerly waits for them. “I’m so sorry.”
And with that, you leave him.
In a perfect world, he would have grabbed you by the wrists and fucked you against Satoru’s side of the table. But it’s not, because he lets you go. He has to let you go, even if you know that’s not the end of it. He will get you later, and like a little kid in science class, he will dissect everything you said. Therefore, during the thirty minutes of freedom you are granted in the bathroom, before the meeting starts, you try and fail and try and fail to conceal your thoughts into a perfect lie.
It doesn’t work. Not even a bit. Because Nanami knows you like the back of his hand, as much as he knows everyone that works with him. He knows when you lie and when you are truthful, and thanks to that, your work relationship had always been good ── you’ve never lied to him to stroke his ego. You were too busy wanting to stroke something else. Nanami let you slide your nasty comments about others, and he would share them, granting you some of their secrets.
He was a gossiper. He knew everything. You knew right there that lying would never work with him, so you just avoided to let him reach that horny part of yours that burned for him. Give him something else to sink his attention into. Your neck, you wanted, but rather you would feed him with gossips from your college classes, or what you got from Suguru Geto, your friend and Satoru’s assistant.
Now, you had already run out of distractions. Maybe that was his plan all along. If the world is correct, and it all falls down to Nanami’s desires, then maybe he was just waiting for you to crumble and admit. You had never been subtle with your eyes, anyway. That’s why he had been so fascinated about it, staring from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of your true self, like a wishing star in a starry night.
The stars have gone dark, burned and busted away, when you come back to the meeting room and sit down on your designed chair, by his side. Nanami is focusing at you, again, like he needs more of your secrets at this moment. You have never gave him something so largue before, he is addicted.
But you, stubborn, appalled, stoic and all, think your plate of pasta is the most interesting thing in this whole world. You don’t eat much, because your throat is filled with all the words and screams you want to let out. You fear if you so much breathe loud, it will all come flooding this room.
“Are you annotating all of this in your head?” Nanami whispers in your ear, referring to the meeting now in progress. You sign no, and he sighs. “Your mind is far away, today.”
“Sorry.”
“What should I do with you?”
Someone coughs. An old man, standing by the edge of the table. He wants Nanami’s eyes on him, the praise, the goodness. Kento grants him half a smile, and that is not enough. Never will be. Everyone always wants more.
The lights are turned off when the projector is brought by Suguru, he comes and goes quickly, not before stealing a cookie from Satoru. That’s the first smile you present since the incident, and Nanami is back at staring at you with an intensity your heart fears but your pussy drips for. Are you scared? Petrified. And still, you are fucking horny.
He knows your secret, he is devoting his eyes to you, no matter what anyone else wants. He, in this moment, wants you. It might be because he needs to know what you meant, it might be because you are stroking his ego, finally. Or, you dare wonder, he is debating throwing you on that table and fucking you. Old men and Satoru aside, you wouldn’t mind. At all.
You take courage to look at him, and instantly you stare at his lips first, before his eyes. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. You go back at eyeing the projector. He does the same a long beat later. An even longer one, he slowly puts his hand on your exposed thigh, skirt raised since you set down.
You try to not fail in your stoic face, but you do so anyway. Because, for fuck’s sake, Nanami Kento has his hands on your thigh, his thumb in circular movements. Your lips instinctively curl up, he snorts by your side before going back to his serious demeanor.
You thought he would just keep his hands there, as if testing the water but deciding to stay near the shore. That’s not his case, though. Nanami loves to go to the beach, to swim far away beyond the waves, he likes to get damped. His hand move closer, and you open your legs absentmindedly. He wants, you give. As much as you have wanted, and now he is giving you.
When his hands are pressing against your lacy underwear, you hear a little “Fuck” coming from his mouth. You’re soaking wet.
It’s hard to keep your breathing pattern steady when he is near you. Even more harder when he has one finger slowly penetrating you. For the outsider viewer, everything is normal, and the two of you are just concentrated on the projector screen. The truth is you have no idea what’s going on, and maybe neither does him. You want to moan, and tug his hair until he groans. And you want him to replace his finger with his cock. You stare at the annotation book, empty of your handwriting, and use the opportunity of your head down to hang your mouth open and close your eyes.
Nanami shifts his eyes to you, and he drowns himself into your fucked gaze, even more so when he puts another finger. He can’t linger much, or others will notice, so he decides to keep his movements fluid and calm, and to stare at you from time to time.
He can multitask. Of-fucking-course. He asks questions, answers, he acts as if he is one hundred percent into whatever is going on. The reality is different. The truth is all about his curling fingers pressing themselves in a place inside you that will forever mark his presence there. Like a secret plaything only for him, no one, not even you, will ever reach that. It’s like he is signing it with either his name only or a “Nanami was here.”
You want him to stay, forever. Stay inside you, slow pacing, curling, sensitive.
He can’t, because what feels like hours later, turns into minutes. Everyone is raising up to leave, and he moves out of you so fast, you clench around nothing ── had you been quicker, grabbed his fingers, they all would know. You don’t give a fuck, you want them too know.
“Go to my office.” He whispers before going the opposite direction of the exit, and staying back to talk with the others. You walk without a goodbye, creating an excuse when Satoru wants some of your time.
Inside his office, you feel like breathing for the first time. It’s confusing, like your lungs are new and not fully connected to your esophagus, so it comes up weird ── in a mixture of laugh and relief, salted with a “what the actual fuck”.
You want to stop and think of what’s happening or what’s to happen, but you never had the chance. It’s a second later, and you are being pressed against his, now, locked door. His arms holding your hips, his head resting on your neck, sulking your scent much like you do with his.
“You meant it, right?” He asks, bringing his face up to yours. “You want me to fuck you. Please, darling, say you do, because I need to fuck you now, or I’ll go crazy.”
“Yes, please, please.” Midway through your desperate nod, Nanami lunged at you, catching your lips in his and conducting the rhythm, the strength.
He was so, so good. In all ways. His slow fingers had your legs shaking and his eager kiss has your mind fogged. All that he does seems to be professional, but you know deep down, this effect is all because is made by him. Just his presence alone could have you hot and bothered, but to actually be touched by him, it’s like adding the fire to your gasoline self.
You had always been meant to be burned by Nanami.
He hoist you up against the door, for a quick second his hands kept clawing your thighs, until he walked you both to his desk. He let you down on it, and at the same time, his kisses moved to your neck and shoulder. You could feel the scrape of his teeth, tempted to mark you with a significant bite ── tell them I’m yours, you thought.
He groaned against your flustered skin, because he knew he couldn’t do that. Mark you, that’s it. Fuck you? Oh, that he can, that he will do.
“I need you to be really quiet for me.” His hands are quick on his belt, dropping it with a thud against the floor. He raises your skirt to your waist, Nanami grumbled under his breath with the sight of your underwear. He had touched the elaborate details earlier, but to see it was another story. White, see through, a pink ribbon on the top. “I’m going to rip it.”
“No, you’re not!” Raising your leg, you pushed him away. Eyes still hypnotized by your clothed cunt. You removed the piece with a satisfied smirk. It had been months since you started to wear those type of under-wears, hoping one day this situation would come.
No one wants to fuck their sexy boss with granny’s pants.
The cold table coming in contact with your intimacy made you moan a bit, and Nanami’s attention was back on you. There you were, beautifully waiting for him. Fuck-me eyes, pleading mouth, hands gripping the edge of the desk. You were at his mercy, had been for a while now. And he? Well, Nanami was yours now, that’s what matter.
One of his fingers, the same one he had penetrated you earlier, came back inside you. Smearing itself with your wetness. His other hand gripped your hips, bringing you closer, and making him go deeper. There, right fucking there. He curled, and thrusted, and another two more out of nowhere.
Cruelty was not on the way he was ravishing your cunt, but the biting of your teeth on your hand. You have to be quiet, follow his orders, but Nanami seemed to want to make you scream. Let everyone know that he is fucking you. Nearly fucking you.
Combining this movements with the ones of earlier, you feel your insides getting tighter. He senses as well, and raises his peace once more. But, again, your legs push him away. Nanami doesn’t like that, he comes back quick, wet fingers anxious to reclaim their place inside you, but you sign no, and he halts. That’s it. The man that controls everyone, and he is at your mercy.
“I want to cum on your cock.” Maybe is the sweet and diabolical way you say, or the tilting of your head with a charming smile. What matters is, he complies right away. His pants fall, he takes off his blazer, and not a second later you are presented with what you’ve been craving for months.
Like a pregnant lady, you almost cry and fall on your knees, finally having your desire attended. He doesn’t want that either, instead Nanami takes a condom from his wallet. Before he puts it, his waiting fingers touch your cunt again, grabbing a bit of your liquid and smearing it on himself. You nearly ask him to throw the condom away.
Is a sinful sight. All of this. You on the desk, legs wide open. He in front of you, adjusting himself on the condom. Both groaning when he, fucking finally, align with your entrance, and slowly gets in. He is largue, and thick, and preparation might have been necessary had you not been daydreaming of this moments months ago.
Had he not been himself, that man that makes you drip with just a “good morning”, this might have hurt. Instead, it’s exhilarating to be parted by his cock. The condom does not stop you from feeling his veins tickling your walls, or his tip finally setting near your cervix. That was fucking new. Pleasant and scary, and fucking welcome as well.
“Say it again,” He asks, hands on both your hips and eyes looking over yours. Waiting for the stars to fall over the two of you. “tell me to fuck you.”
“Fuck m──” He doesn’t wait for you to end before he removes himself, and going back with a gushing sound. You nearly scream out of pleasure, but in the last second, you bite your lips strong enough to draw some blood. “Mmh, you fucking a-asshole.” He snorts at that, before slapping your thigh.
Seems that Nanami can do all the noises he wants. He groans against your skin, head hanging low to stare at the way you pussy suck his dick in and out. You have always been a good girl ── his good girl. Taking all the he gave you. Mostly work related, and now his cock. You truly were made just for him.
“You feel so fucking good, baby.” A moan scapes your hands, and he doesn’t bother spanking your leg again. He called you baby, and you’re strangling his dick perfectly. You can shout at this point, he is pussy fucked.
Removing your hands from your mouth, you decide to do something much better than guarding your pleasure. Instead, you open his button-up blue shirt. A dream come through, is what this day will be remembered as. Specially now, where he lets you do as you pleases, and you have the sight of his pecks ── bronzed from a beach trip he took last week, and glistening with sweat for your recent activities. You moaned again, before going for it, and marking him.
Nanami allowed you to do so. He only cared about holding your hips and raise your lower body, so he could make you meet his thrusts halfway. He didn’t hold a care in the world about his groaning getting louder, or the burning on his neck and chest caused by your eager mouth and teeth. Fuck that. Fuck everyone. The only thing he truly wanted was to be inside of you forever. To be planted in this moment of his life, on loop, being marked by you, having his cock milked out by your dripping cunt. That’s what his life was made for.
Nanami Kento had this aura that made everyone scramble for him and his left-overs, as a way to keep close. To say they have something that once was his. Because everyone knew that Nanami was no one’s property. This moment, this fuck, this pussy proved that statement to be contraire ── he was yours. From the first day he saw you and specially one hour ago, when he had eaten your cookie and you told him to fuck you. He knew right then that he would shift the whole balance of the world to give you what you want.
And if that’s his aching cock, fucking be it. It’s yours. You’re taking it so good, and barely paying attention to it. He keeps bruising your cervix, and you respond with little whimpers and more bites. He quicken his peace, you close your legs around his waist, as if giving him more opening.
A perfect synchrony.
“Wan’ to cum.” You mumble just right after he senses your wall get tight.
“C’mon, baby, ugh, cum f’me.”
“Mmh, fuck, ngha.”
You do right after, going limp on his arms, he slow his thrusting with a snort and laying you down on the desk. He shuffles something by your dazed-self side, before he brings a black sharpie near your cleavage. He kisses and licks and sucks on it, before opening the pen with his mouth, and signing a straight line.
“How many more can you give me, pretty?” You don’t answer in words, but with more quiet whimpers, when his thrusts go back to pounding you in a maniac pace. He holds your neck down, leaning to kiss you through your beautiful moans.
You’re sensitive, he knows. Because you keep closing more and more around his length, trying to make him cum, unknown to you that it only makes you closer to coming again. You hit your head on the desk when trying to follow his departed lips, Nanami has your neck again on his mouth, tasting your sweat and lotion, and all you can give him. It’s only when he bites it slightly, you release yourself once more.
“Mmph, fuck, fuck, argh.”
Nanami keeps jerking his hips onto yours, not even having cum once. He takes pleasure in yours, you can see. With a proud smirk, he grabs the sharpie once more, but this time, he makes a diagonal line that touches the top of the first.
“Mhm──!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, baby. Just a bit more.” He cooed at you, sweet tone diverging from his animalistic movements.
You’re not complaining, not even regretting. So you keep yourself down and let Nanami control both of yours fun. He is ruthless in his pace and fantastic with his kisses, he doesn’t mind your moaning anymore, or the fact that everyone on your floor already knows. What can they do? Stop you? Nanami will rip everyone apart and just return to your pussy. Threaten him? No one would dare. He is still their sweetheart, their most sacred prize, beautiful and shinning to look at. Never to have.
“I’m, ugh, I’m yours.” He grunts.
This time, you sense a shift in his thrusts. So methodical now sloppy, and his cock kept twitching inside of you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. Yes, fucking finally, he was near.
“All fucking m──mine.” You agreed with his words, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming your lips together. “I’m yours, always had been.”
Nanami can’t even control himself anymore. He groans and pants as he releases himself inside you. With a mist of swearing and praises you could barely decipher. After all, his own release had triggered yours.
When you both had come back from the high, Nanami raised himself from your chest, and kissed you, tongues intertwining, teeth clashing and biting. When he parted, leaving you breathless, he had then pen in his hand again. It touched your skin, once more, connecting from the bottom of his last line, going up straight.
It’s a “N”.
“You think we can spell my name?” He asks, leaving your inside to throw his condom out. He opens a drawer, where a box with more is presented.
“That would be more 17 fucks.” You support your weight on your elbows while counting.
“It’s that a no?”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your throat, before beckoning him closer. He does right away, kissing you hungrily once more. As if he is trying to record forever the taste of your mouth. He has your hair in his fists, pushing it back so he can go back to your, now, heavily marked neck.
“Let’s see how far can we go.” You indulge into his crazy erotic idea.
Nanami smiles triumphantly. He removes himself from your body, but doesn’t put condoms, instead, he falls on his knees, diving straight for your pussy.
Hours later, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, you leave his locked office with a smug smirk and timid eyes. Both accompanied by messy hair, flushed cheeks, marked neck and… “Nana” written on your chest.
“We’ll finish this later.” He comes behind you, closing his shirt, but letting the top buttons opened enough to catch a glimpse of your love marks on his chest. Specially the one with “Mine” marked in it.
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Knowing Pen lied to him was truly Colin's nightmare come true in many ways, because of his past experience, but it's deeper because he actually truly loves Pen and she wouldn't lie to him because she's Pen, and Pen is special, but the the more you watch, the heartbreak shapes more clearly. Colin's expressions and his questions, the many times he's asked Penelope if she's sure of her feelings, if she regrets getting engaged, if she doesn't return his feelings for now...everytime Colin notices she has something to tell him, that he can feel it, he's expecting her to say she doesn't love him, that he indeed is not enough on his own, not worthy. When she's 'sick' and he wants to be near her..."perhaps she's trying to keep me at distance and is regretting", he's so unsure. Her confession at the church, that follows him once again asking her, telling "if you'll still have me?" and clearly bracing himself for some type of rejection, gives him a bit of peace, he starts to believe and is so giddy. At the Mondrichs ball, he's so happy when she tells him he's worthy. It breaks my heart for what's to come. His world came crashing down, because if she lied about that, if she - even if deep down he knows it's true, and that's why it hurts more, because she sees him negatively, she knows his mask and what's hiding - said those things about him in her Column, then she likely doesn't love him, not really, not in the way he loves her. It's hammering in his head: "Why would she love me?, and then, everything that happens make it worse, because - to him - he doesn't seem to be able to show to her his value, to prove to her he deserves love, because she seems to not need him, he's unable to help her in an effective manner and he feels like a failure as her husband, unsure of himself and mistrustful of her loving him. That's why Pen's words to him at Francesca's wedding makes me so emotional. I am in love with her words, how she tells him her needs and how his love is important to her on its own, and how can he show her that love the best/the best way to show it, what she doesn't need, what he doesn't need to do, that he actually excels at loving her when he simply loves her. It's in his special smiles to her, in their little jokes together, it's in the way he made love to her, in the way he gazes at her, how he makes her feel beautiful, in the way he dances with her, how happy it makes them to be together, how they can be silly together, how he kisses and holds her. It's curious because Penelope doesn't seem to doubt his love is there anymore, their dynamic here has shifted ( until ep5, she was also very insecure) , despite their issues, have you notice that? She just wants him to allow himself to show, she wants him to want to love her, she knows it's there, she wants him to act on his love and show her, in the many ways he's so perfect in showing her, so that she can show him back and make him feel loved too. Her offering the annulment was about protecting him and his family and a way to tell him: You don't have to keep on loving me, to be by my side, if i don't make you happy with my love, if you don't want to, if you are scared, in pain. But of course he wants to. He'll always want to and seeing her being so brave, makes him brave too, brave to let himself believe, to accept and let his heart melt away the protections he built with his hurt, makes him understand, deep inside of him, she loves him, that brilliant woman loves him and her light, as he said, will never hurt him, it was never meant to hurt him, instead it will always brighten up his path. She exposed herself out of love, for herself, for him, for his family and he exposed all his feelings right back to her, his insecurities and his love, he finally felt with certain how much he is loved, and it's every bit as much as he loves her. And he knows how vast that is.
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burned
percy jackson x gn! reader — you’re all alone in an alley in NYC. what could go wrong??
tw — violence
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You’re cold.
You’re cold and afraid, shaking in an alley somewhere in downtown New York.
You try to think about camp. About the rolling hills, the sweet strawberries, the campfire. About your friends, about target practice, the climbing walls.
Percy should be here. He should’ve been here— you check your watch — fifteen minutes ago. But he’s not, and your thoughts are running wild.
The wind howls louder. You shut your eyes.
The wound on your leg stings. You’re coiled around it, hunched forward in a meager attempt to shield it from whatever. Meet back here in 30, you’d told him. He nodded; you drew your dagger and he lifted riptide out of its sheath. And then you went separate ways, a desperate attempt to get the monsters off your trail, to confuse them by being in two places at once. It’d worked, partially, and you would’ve been fine, except for the fact that he’s not here. So you’re not fine.
There’s a commotion at the mouth of the alley, and your head snaps up.
A woman stumbles into view, smartly dressed with long blonde hair down to her waist. She notices you, and you freeze.
“Excuse me, do you have a map? I just can’t seem to—”
“y/n, no!”
Percy’s voice echoes off the walls, and your heart drops at his audible panic.
Her smile turns from airheaded to sinister. Fangs peek over her bottom lip.
Multiple things happen at once.
You lunge forward, dagger in hand, but she grabs your wrist with a vice grip. She squeezes, and squeezes, and you’re certain she’s going to snap your wrist in half when Percy rushes in, almost runs headfirst into the brick wall.
She wrenches the knife from your hand and turns it on you. Percy lifts riptide. You stumble backwards; the tip of riptide shines through her chest.
Two blades are thrusted forward. Twin gasps of pain meet your ears.
One of them sounds suspiciously like you.
The woman dissolves, dust flaking away to reveal Percy, breathing hard. His face is bruised. It’s upsetting, even though you really should be used to it by now. You just wish he would get hurt less.
Something throbs under your ribs. It feels like a cramp, but it gets worse and worse until it burns, You’re burning—
Your knees buckle and Percy runs to you. Your head doesn’t hit the ground, so you assume he caught you.
The entire left side of you is on fire. You can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips.
The delicate skin around his eye is blooming an angry red. You reach out for it weakly, and he winces when your knuckle brushes the bruise.
“You’re hurt,” you say quietly.
Percy gently grabs your hand, lowers it from his face. “I’m okay,” he soothes. “I’m right here.”
Why does he feel so far away then?
His hands move again. You’re still cold.
Your eyes flutter, tongue lead in your mouth. You realize with dim fascination that he’s cradling your face. It’d be quite intimate if your vision wasn’t darkening at the edges.
“You’re gonna be okay. They’re almost here. Just… just stay with me.”
You have so many questions. Who’s they? Why are his hands so warm?
Percy’s looking at you with a fear in his eyes that shakes you to your very bones. His eyes rake over your face as if he’ll never see you again. You still don't understand. All you know is the sinking feeling in your chest, the creeping nothing in the corners of your eyes, and the dull ache in your side.
You don't remember closing your eyes, but you do remember Percy shaking you.
“y/n,” he pleads, voice trembling in a way that you haven't heard before. “It’s alright. Just open your eyes for me, yeah? Please— please.”
He’s shivering. You feel absolutely horrible about the whole ordeal, despite your very limited understanding of the situation. You want to assure him it’ll probably be fine, that you’ll bounce back because you guys always bounce back, but this time you’re not sure.
“I’m sorry,” you rasp, the words sandpaper in your throat.
The darkness swallows you whole.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
lmk if I should write a part two? I dunno if anyone will read it
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mirohlayo · 25 days
Text
IF IT'S A GAME, THEN
I'LL BE THE WINNER
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( You're not the type to give up easily, and even less so for Max who absolutely doesn't want to lose the game. )
warning : mention of jealousy, angst but not angst, sad max :(, fluffff
word count : 2.5k
You sigh, annoyed. "What are you talking about? This is a bad idea, Max." The dutch shakes his head, absolutely disagreeing with you. “Look.” He jumps to sit on the pale green sofa, his left arm resting on the edge of the sofa, facing you. "We have nothing to lose. It's a good idea for a game, and I know that deep down you think the same as me." He waves his hands to accompany his words, determined to change your mind.
You run your hands over your face, completely tired. This discussion has been going on for 20 minutes now, and you don't know where it's going. Fatigue is growing within you and his explanations seem more and more repetitive to you, so there remains one last choice. "Okay okay, I accept. We're going to play this ridiculous game." You sigh heavily as your best friend almost jumps for joy.
It's ridiculous indeed. This game, or rather this stupid bet that you accepted. "I'll remind you of the rules one last time. The first person to date someone wins. What wins? The title of best seducer." You nod, rolling your eyes, to make him understand that he doesn't need to repeat himself and that you understand the rules of his so called very fun game very well.
You don't even know where it came from. Well, yes. It just turns out that both of your love lives are... well, not great. Each of your previous dates were all horrible, and the only time you were in a relationship, your boyfriend dumped you after 2 months because he had found something better. It's almost ironic because it's so pitiful. In conclusion, by forgetting certain details, we can say that your love life is a phenomenal disaster. And it was hard to do worse than you.
Except for Max. Maybe after all he was the king of fails. Many relationships of just a few weeks fell through because these girls only wanted attention, money and notoriety. Sometimes he would end up kissing a random girl when he was partying, a girl whose name he didn't even remember. But he always ended up going home alone, and regretting this kiss which meant nothing.
After these failures which weighed down your morale, you were always there for each other to reconcile. When you came to Max in tears, explaining to him how your ex left you for another girl who he thought was a thousand times better, he immediately took you in his arms. He comforted you all evening, wiping your tears while spoiling you with your favorite meals in front of your favorite movie. He had turned off his phone, all his attention was focused on you. Because there was no way he was going to leave her childhood best friend alone and sad because of some poor guy.
And when Max finally explained to you why all his short relationships had fallen through, you reassured him that not all of these girls deserved it. You had cuddled him under the thick blankets, lightly scratching his scalp, and spent the evening reminding him how strong and incredible he is, and that there was no better man than him on this planet.
Because there was no way you were going to leave your childhood best friend alone and sad because of poor profiteers.
But it was also in these moments that your feelings surfaced the most, and it was difficult to hide them. In the end, all these dates and fake relationships were just a distraction, some kind of fake companionship and joy to try to forget the real feelings you have. Your disastrous love affairs weren't disastrous by chance, they were only disastrous to unite the only two people who were finally made for each other.
And this game risks changing everything.
-
Max knew very well what he was doing when he proposed this game to you a few days ago. He knew that, if you accepted, everything would be easier for him. He is determined and confident, and he wants to win this game at all costs. Anything goes, and it's a big help for him since he was able to gain enough confidence to be able to, well...
Win your heart, and therefore win the game.
On the contrary, for your part, you want to continue to forget your feelings for Max. It's inconceivable to you that he could, even with a little luck, have romantic feelings for you. He is a great driver, rich, handsome and young who enjoys his life. Obviously a lot of girls including models beg him for even one chance. Max can't date someone as ordinary as you.
And yet, if only you knew...
It's almost 7 p.m. Max rushes to finish cooking your favorite dish, two plates already ready to be served. You've already been in the bathroom for a good hour now, finishing getting ready for your date tonight. You had no time to waste and you rushed to the first man who seemed rather nice and pleasant to you. You finish the last touches of your makeup with a brush, and the bathroom door suddenly opens.
Max smiles to himself as he hears the door click, and when he looks up, he wonders if he's still breathing. Before him is - without any, but no doubt - the most beautiful woman, the most resplendent girl in the world. Your face is divine, the burgundy dress you are wearing accentuates your magnificent body and your hair is harmoniously highlighted with the rest of your makeup. You are just... breathtaking.
He blinks a few times, completely unsure how to function for a moment. Your laugh brings him out of his trance and he ends up awkwardly lining up a few words. "You're just... well... breathtaking. I-I mean, really really gorgeous." You laugh shyly, lowering your head, a little embarrassed by his compliments. You can feel his gaze piercing you all over and for a moment, you feel like you're naked in front of him. Even so, he manages to make you feel so many things.
“What’s got you so dressed up like that, gorgeous?” He smiled kindly at you before lowering his head to finish mixing the sauce in the pan. His t-shirt reveals his muscular and veiny arms, his hands and his pale knuckles as he holds the pan firmly in place. His hair, still a little damp after his shower, falls lightly on his forehead, and his face displays a concentrated but calm expression. It was just easy to get lost in the beauty of this man.
“Mhh, did you hear me princess?” When you meet his gaze, he looks at you amused, a smirk evident at the corner of his lips. You shake your head, embarrassed to have looked at him like that, and fortunately he didn't comment on it. "Don't you remember? I have a date tonight" You rush to put on your heels, leaning on the white wall next to you. "Oh, you're right. I was cooking your favorite dish so we could eat together but I forgot you were going out tonight."
In fact, he absolutely hadn't forgotten the fact that you had a date tonight. He just purposely came up with this little plan, which is part of your game, to spend more time with you and show you that only he is perfect for you, and that at least he knows how to cook your favorite dish. As he examines your face, not knowing what sort of emotions are hidden there, he hopes deep down that hopefully you'll give in to your date and spend the evening with him instead.
But alas, the sad look you give him immediately makes him understand that you won't be keeping him company this evening. “Sorry Max. I appreciate the effort you put in and you know I love you, but I have no intention of losing this damn game” You end up smiling evilly before running out the door , already a little late for your date. The pilot didn't even have time to properly say goodbye to you, he sighed sadly.
But you were right on one hand. After all, it was Max who started this bet and there had to be a winner. Except for him, he didn't need to go on dates to find a girlfriend. He's already known her since childhood, and he's always wanted this girl, even after so many years. He grabs his plate with difficulty and settles down on the couch, where you could spend hours and hours watching anything and everything on the TV. He feels a little abandoned tonight, it's true.
The idea of imagining yourself chatting and laughing with a man other than him never resonates with him again, but tonight it's different. His sadness is stronger, and he seems on the verge of crying and breaking down. He knows he has to try harder and put more heart into throwing hints at you and making you understand that he wants to play this game with you, but you consider him so much a friend that you take all his actions friendly. And not romantically.
Max didn't even bother waiting for you to come home that evening, too disappointed and saddened. His heart tightened in his chest and he preferred to fall asleep earlier than usual to forget his heartache. You came home around 11 p.m., a little disappointed. You expected to see your best friend, but he wasn't there. Which saddened you even more. Your date wasn't that great, but he still insisted on making it up to you and giving you another chance. And you obviously accepted the offer.
So, in the following weeks, everything seemed bland and gloomy. It was like a cycle, an infernal loop. A destructive and unpleasant routine had set in and it weighed on both of you, but especially Max. He spent his days thinking, finding ideas for activities to spend time with you and make you fall under his spell. To prevent you from seeing this famous date again. But every time, you told him that you were going out with him since he had invited you somewhere again.
You always apologized, but sometimes you still took the trouble to spend a little time with him, before finally joining your so called potential new lover. And as the weeks passed, your friendship seemed to fade away. You were drifting away little by little, almost as if it was normal or inevitable. Max, who launched this game hoping to win your heart, ended up letting himself be fooled by his own game.
But we already know Max, right? He was so fed up, but so fed up with this situation. He suffered silently, he struggled to smile and he had lost every ounce of joy. He was never affected like that and let's not forget to mention his jealousy that burned brightly every time you talked about your date. He couldn't take it anymore, he absolutely couldn't take all this anymore. He was becoming the loser of his own game, and Max is not like that at all.
He was born to win everything, emerge victorious and undefeated. He has no desire to give up this stupid game and proclaim himself the loser. No, he will be the winner in the end, no matter what.
Max stares at you, leaning back on his couch, while you sit across from him, smiling in front of your phone. He rolls his eyes for a long time, already knowing that you are talking with this man whose eyes he dreams of tearing out. You end up suddenly standing up, running your hand over your wrinkled tee shirr. "I think I'll start getting ready to go out-" "No."
Max was quick to cut you. His tone was firm and almost aggressive. He also gets up to stand at your height, greatly surpassing you. You have to lift your head to look at him, and under this pressure you begin to weaken. It would be so easy to let go and just kiss him. There is your date, yes. But that never meant that you actually forgot about Max. No, on the contrary, it was getting worse and worse.
“You’re not going anywhere, Y/n.” You frown, a little irritated by his tone and the way he speaks to you. "I'm not here to listen to your orders Max. I have another date, and I'll go whether you want me to or-" "Do you really love him?" He cuts you off again, moving a little closer to you, arms crossed. He carries this look so arrogant and menacing, and his gaze is so piercing that you feel like he can read every feeling in you.
He stares at you intensely, never letting go of your gaze. You try as best you can to hold his gaze, but after his question, you flinch. You part your mouth slightly, as if to say something, but nothing comes out. Your eyes also betray you, and your whole body feels paralyzed. You question yourself. Do you really love this man? Behind your impassive heart, you already know the answer.
There has never been any man other than Max.
Your lack of response is now too suspicious for the driver, who wanted to continue again but you cut him off. “Love is still a big word but yes, I really like him.” Your voice trembles slightly, as if you ultimately don't mean any of the words you say. "Don't lie to me Y/n. It was just a game basically." Max knows you by heart, even with his eyes closed. He knows perfectly well when you're lying, and it turns out he noticed.
You clear your throat, avoiding his gaze. “A game that perhaps allowed me to find a boyfriend.” You are hesitant with your words, not so sure of yourself. You fidget on the spot, rocking one foot over the other. This sentence seems to have really annoyed Max, who rolls his eyes, his jaw clenched. “Who told you we couldn't play this game with each other, Y/n?.” He looks at you like he's about to do something serious and unexpected.
Never have your faces been so close, only a few centimeters away. Your gaze falls unintentionally on his lips, then, as if it were forbidden, you come back to your senses and lock your eyes into his. But Max noticed, and he knows he's already won. "If it's a game, then I'll be the winner." He whispers softly, faintly. Until your lips touch. He kisses you like no one has kissed you before. It is a passionate, loving and exquisite kiss. Simply lovely.
His lips are soft against yours, but he moves them ardently, almost wildly but always in sensual desire. He releases all his emotions and all his frustration in this divine kiss, which he absolutely does not want to stop. Reluctantly, you step back slightly, smiling shyly. "Okay, I have to admit. You really are the winner." He chuckled softly, stealing another quick kiss from you. "Of course. You know I don't like losing, especially when it comes to you."
You rolled your eyes amusedly, pressing your lips to his again. This ridiculous game wasn't so ridiculous after all, even if you didn't come out a winner. Because after all, who can come out on top in a game when Max is the opponent?
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notjustjavierpena · 3 months
Note
I’ve been binge reading your amazing husband!javier series and it makes me feel soo 💕💗💞 but what i’m very curious about is inés! i don’t think (unless i missed it) that you ever wrote anything about when inés was born!! just curious on javi’s reaction to having a girl. girl dad javi for the win. that’s it. that’s all.
Girl
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: I so hope that this is what you had in mind, anon-sweetheart. This is the best I could do 🥺💖❤️
Summary: A glimpse into how Javier handles Inés, his two days old daughter.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: Domestic, descriptions of a postpartum body, Javier loves his family, Javi POV, newborn bubble, bit of angst, life with a tiny baby!!
Word count: 2.7k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57176173
Girl
There are soft and fine hairs on Inés Peña’s head. Javier already finds that his favorite pastime is to run his fingers over them, feel the way they brush against his fingertips, and send butterflies through his body all the way to his heart. The gentle strokes to her head make her squirm underneath his touch, solidifying the fact that he is a father of two now, one of whom is a baby girl. 
He never quite understood the idea of wanting to take a bullet for someone until he became a father to Lucas. It makes him feel slightly bad about the stress he must have caused his father back in the day, running around intentionally seeking dangerous situations all the way into adulthood. He supposes that it’s payback that Lucas already causes him stress from merely existing and he has to force himself to give up control once in a while when Lucas wants to independently try new things that might get his knees scraped literally and figuratively. He knows it’s ridiculous to think that maybe it’ll be different with Inés because he has a certain idea of how it will be to be the father of a girl. You’ve laughed about that already, told him that sometimes it can be even worse with a girl. 
A girl.
He weighs the meaning of this, has been aware of the new responsibilities that follow with having a daughter since he held Inés in his arms for the first time. A nurse had handed her to him whilst you got some much-needed rest and he had been floored by emotions that shot through his body. He had never thought much of the significance of raising a daughter before she came into his life screaming but feeling her skin against his own made his mind spiral. How stupid a man he is, that he ever thought it wouldn’t be much different than what he has gone through with Lucas, and whereas he still looks forward to the day of her first smile, her first step or her first word, a special kind of dread follows him around as he looks down at her now. The world is so cruel for someone so tiny and frail, someone bound to be met with challenges he’ll never understand. It’s a different kind of need to protect; it’s instinctual, intense, and utterly consuming. What about her first party? Her first job? Her first boyfriend? What about all the things that only you can help her with? Oh God.
He huffs out a little laugh that stems from disbelief. Inés is two days old and she has already transformed him into something new. He loves everything about her: Her flat little nose, her disproportionately big hands, the details on her skin, creases on her forehead, and prints on her fingers that make her seem so real even when she doesn’t do much. He knows she exists for real because of her being soft to the touch and because of the tiny noises she makes in her sleep but it’s the feeling in his body, a buzz that he can’t explain that tells him how real. 
Sleep is all she does really, much like her older brother did during his first week in the world of the living. She has big eyes that flutter behind her eyelids as she dreams, curling up her little body to mimic the way she slept in her previous home which is your belly until she wakes up slowly with a massive yawn that makes you giggle as you greet her. 
“You are so loved, Inés,” he whispers as she coos in her slumber. He tucks the blanket around her a little more, rubbing her little belly with his fingertips, “So so loved, mi amor (my love). Mamá and I are gonna take care of you.”
He barely finishes the sentence when he feels a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, making him turn his head to look back at you. You are standing right behind him, smiling tiredly at him and just out of the shower but you shake your head when he starts to get up from his seat to offer it to you. 
“How are my two loves doing?” You ask softly to redirect his attention away from you but he takes you in for a moment before finding the proper response. You are in the underwear that you specifically bought for the first month after Inés’ arrival, waddling around as your body still hasn’t quite figured out that it’s not housing a baby anymore; your belly is still rounded, your skin bears stretch marks that he thinks of as beautiful as lightning on a night sky, and you move through his home with the careful slowness of someone healing. 
“Perfect,” he says when he still has his eyes on you, smiling warmly as you return it with a shy face. He turns back to look at his infant daughter and rests his arms on the side of her bassinet, “We’re perfect, ain’t we, Inés?”
“At least you are,” you groan softly, dragging the footstool from Javier’s chair towards the two of them. Your words are followed by a chuckle to hide your self-consciousness, “I don’t feel very perfect myself these days.”
Javier tuts at you as you go against your doctor’s advice of not moving things that are too heavy so soon after giving birth. He decides to move swiftly before you can protest, getting up from his seat and guiding you to sit in his chair instead. He has a warm and reassuring hand on your back as he helps you sit down, knowing that the tiredness is as much from the soreness of your back and feet as well as the sleepless nights a newborn brings. 
“Gentleman,” you note.
“You are amazing,” he stresses and sits down opposite you, not bothered at all by the new seating arrangement, “Absolutely beautiful too. How are you feeling?”
“Just a little sore, it’s okay. Don’t worry,” you admit and look past him to stare at your baby to consciously ignore Javier’s concerned eyes. You lean towards the bassinet and he decides not to get too fussy about you, just hears your dreamy voice and lets it wash over him, “Can you believe Lucas used to be this size?”
Javier shakes his head as memories of Lucas’ early days flood his mind instead, noticing the way his two kids already look a bit alike. He scoots his seat closer to yours and takes your hand without saying anything, “Yes and no, it feels like it was only yesterday. Can’t believe he’s running around now, stressing his father out like that.”
You put a hand on your belly as you giggle quietly, moving slowly to rest your cheek against the side of Inés’ bed and only wincing a little. Javier squeezes your free hand but you choose to tease him instead of acknowledging his concern, “This one will too, you know. Enjoy this moment while it lasts.”
“I’m trying but I really want to pick her up all the time,” he tells you with embarrassment. He wants to press his nose into the top of her soft head and inhale that distinct smell that all babies have, the one that seems to be holding him hostage in a bubble of sentiment. 
“You can’t,” you scold playfully, “She needs rest and so do you.”
“Fuck, lo sé (I know),” he nods understandingly but he has the kind of longing that only a newborn can cause to a parent, “Pero es tan perfecta (But she is so perfect).” 
“También será perfecta cuando se despierta (She’ll also be perfect when she wakes up),” you remind him and pull his hand to your lips to kiss it, showing him a sort of affection that only you have ever brought him.
“Perfecta como tú (perfect like you),” he charms with no other endgame other than seeing your mouth pull into a little smile, cheeks warm from his love. 
“You clearly need a nap too,” you say in your motherly voice, hiding your face from him and trying to play the fact that he still makes you feel like a teenager off, “Gotta sleep when the baby sleeps.”
Javier finally tears his gaze away from his beautiful infant daughter. He sits up straight and watches you mirror him with hidden discomfort. He could continue his playful reluctance to get up from his seat but seeing how tired you look despite your best efforts to hide it from him makes him a little more serious. 
“Alright, you win,” he lets go of your hand to hold his hands up in mock surrender, earning a quick and affectionate roll of your eyes. He’ll read your mind like this and adjust accordingly, happy to play the fool if it just ends in your comfort, “I’ll behave myself if you take a nap with me.”
“That’s a deal,” you agree and put your hands on your knees to stand. 
Javier rises from his seat and holds out his hand to help you, shaking it a little when you don’t immediately take it. However, when you do and haul yourself up from the chair, a relieved expression crosses your face when you can support your belly while he supports your back. 
He guides you across the floor to the bed, chest feeling alight with his affection for you as you get comfortable under the covers. He dares a last glance at his daughter before joining you, lying down face-to-face with you and tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You smile with heavy lids, placing your hand between your heads so he can take it. 
“You rest,” you tell him as he curls his fingers around your wrist instead, rubbing your delicate skin with his thumb. 
“Thank you,” he whispers into the quiet room. 
You furrow your brows while smiling, “For what?”
“For giving me my family,” Javier drags your hand to his mouth, returning the kiss you gave him earlier. It’s so gentle because you are so sensitive everywhere right now, body filled with overwhelming hormones and overstimulation, “You’re a pretty big factor in its production, you know. I just… did what I do best.”
“Javi,” you avoid his eyes, focusing only on the slightly dirty joke by chuckling. 
“No, I mean it. Look at me,” he continues and only goes on when you give in and find his eyes. He places your palm against his cheek, “You are a brave woman. And so strong. Your body is so powerful.”
You swallow hard, clearly affected by those words because he knows the journey to receiving the gift of Inés has been a bumpy one. You both try not to think about that one particular night. You brush his cheek with your thumb, “Thank you, baby. And thank you for being such a wonderful father.”
It’s Javier’s turn to look away. He exhales deeply through his nose, “I don’t know about that. Do you think I’ll be whatever she needs?”
“Of course,” you turn your hand to run your knuckles along his face instead, “What are you worried about? Look at Lucas.”
“There’s so many things I’ll never understand being her father,” he says regrettably. He can feel his blood pressure spiking just thinking about the fact that someone will try to limit her for simply being born a girl. He thinks about his past, guilt rising in his throat at some of the things he has done during his years in Colombia when he jumped from bed to bed which now seem starkly at odds with raising a strong woman. 
He closes his eyes briefly, a deep crease on his forehead showing you that this is not just a passing thought but something that has been rooted into the bottom of Javier’s mind. Inés being born has simply triggered it to come out. He is struggling before you, feeling the weight of his newfound role as a girl dad. 
“You know, having a daughter is very special,” you say without getting a reply. 
His thoughts drift to the challenges ahead, imagining the countless ways society might try to define or confine his daughter. The world, he knows, can be goddamn unforgiving if he doesn’t live up to his responsibilities of teaching her resilience, to empower her to navigate a world where she might face things that he will never fully comprehend but will lie awake over if he misses the severity of them.
“Hey, heyheyhey. Javi,” you make him snap out of it, scooting closer to run your fingers through his hair. Your voice is soft and tender, “Where did you just go?”
“It was so easy with Lucas, I know, but I can’t help but worry if I’ll do wrong by Inés,” he confesses quietly, ashamed of these intrusive thoughts, “If I’m a good example of a man.”
“You are a fantastic father, Javier,” you stress and give him a sweet smile, a twinkle in your eye as you talk, “Wouldn’t have let you marry me and make babies on me if I didn’t think that you were a good man, you know. Give me some credit for choosing you.”
“You knew how to pick ‘em, huh?” He says with a smile, reassured. 
“And I should know about horrible fathers, baby,” you bump your noses together with a little laugh, “But seriously though. You parent with compassion and love. I wish I had had you growing up and I’m a girl, so yes, my opinion matters.”
Javier's smile widens, the tension in his shoulders easing as he listens to your words. He’ll always feel undeserving of your unwavering belief in him but right now, he just lets it soothe his soul.
“You always know how to make me feel better,” he murmurs and pulls you into an embrace, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that turns into several loving ones, the two of you using the little amount of free time you have to enjoy each other. Your belly touches his stomach which drives him crazy, your scent is everywhere, and he pants softly when the kissing ends.
“As long as I am half as amazing as you. You’re such a natural. I don’t know how you do it,” he says and gives you one last longing kiss. He gently runs his hand over your still-rounded belly, the skin marked with stretch marks, “I’m in fucking awe of you, Mamá."
"It’s just instinct, Javi. We both have it.”
“Don’t downplay it. You are the best mother they could ever–” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence when Inés makes a noise of complaint. He tenses up and listens, his eyes going toward the bassinet. You both hold your breath, waiting to see if she’ll settle back into sleep or if she needs attention.
When the soft whimper doesn’t turn into a more insistent cry, you are the first to speak. You tease lightheartedly, “See? Instinct.”.
“You know what? I’m just gonna check on her,” he carefully disentangles himself from you and moves over to the bassinet. You watch as he leans over and he can feel your gaze in his back as he watches Inés' chest rise and fall slowly. The joy of reunion is just the same each time he goes to look at her. Did the two of you really create something so incredible? He sighs in relief and reports to you, “She’s fine, probably just dreaming.”
“She’s asleep,” you pat the bed, “Now, come back to bed. I want you to hold me before Chucho drops Luke off tomorrow and we have to be four people in here.”
“No more quality time with my girls,” he pouts theatrically as he gets into bed again. He scoots closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. 
“We’ll have plenty of quality time, just a bit noisier,” you say with a soft laugh. You nestle against him, feeling the warmth and safety of his embrace. 
“Christ, I love you,” he whispers into your hair.
“Mhm,” you kiss his chest even if it’s on top of his t-shirt.
As you drift off to sleep in his arms, Javier feels excitement when he thinks about spending his first day as a family of four with you. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough, so he falls asleep until he is needed, knowing he’ll be there in less than a heartbeat.
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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essycogany · 23 days
Text
Small Things Can Make Big Differences 🩷
Hi, Fans Of Amy Rose!
This is my opinion and we don’t know what could happen between now and Sonic Movie 3. Anyone can disagree. I’m 100% fine with that and this isn’t going to tarnish my enjoyment of the film at all, but I’ve got to get this off my chest. I’d love to see Amy Rose in Sonic Movie 3 and would be disappointed if she wasn’t in it. Yeah, she’d probably not have a HUGE role or time to develop as much. I get it, but at the same time, I personally don’t think we should shy away from characters having small arcs.
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Tails had one in Sonic Movie 2 and I wouldn’t say the movie would’ve been better without him. I don’t think we should have to justify a main character like Amy who’s existed before KNUCKLES (and debatably Tails) being in a movie about her own franchise. We shouldn’t have to wait a whole year for it either. Stuff takes time sure, but other movies with Pokémon, the Avengers, Mario, My Little Pony G4, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and many others did it and did it well for the most part. Most of these have tons of characters that they wasn’t afraid to show in one movie. Characters with smaller roles still impacted the movies and in a memorable way too. We shouldn’t be so timid in bringing Sonic characters in Sonic movies. They’re just as marketable as these other franchises. The successes of the Sonic trilogies proved that.
Without Amy or other characters it doesn’t feel as full as it could be. Not saying we should’ve got all of them from the get go but a little more would be nice.
I’m saying this respectfully but that doesn’t make sense especially if we have enough time to flesh out the human core characters/side characters who aren’t even part of the main franchise and not the ones most audiences came to see in the first place. I’m neutral and understand both critiques and defenses so you can decide where to go to on that.
Back to before, you don’t need long drawn out character development in order to be written well. Tails turned out fine despite his small role. Heck, Amy’s roles in the GAMES were usually small but not less impactful because of it. Amy practically helped save the entire world with her “small roles” and one for an emotional and impactful moment with Shadow. Even small things can make big differences and that’s one lesson you can learn from Amy.
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Amy’s interactions with Gamma in SA1 impacted the robot to the point of him sacrificing himself to free a Bird he needed to stay alive.
Amy believed in Sonic when the whole world (or Silver) was against him in Sonic 06.
Amy showed kindness to Sonic as the Werehog and gave her closest friend encouragement. She still loved him regardless of how he looked.
There’s more examples, but these are the most well known. Do you notice how most of them were small actions or small moments of development in small roles. And still managed to make Amy a wonderful character while impacting the stories?
I’ll also just show this too.
Also, don’t worry about her stealing time from Shadow. The film’s called Sonic Movie 3 not Shadow The Hedgehog. He can share the spotlight. Knuckles did in SM2. There’s no excuse in my opinion.
The movie doesn’t have to have Amy and wouldn’t be worse without her, but I think we shouldn’t overlook her importance to the franchise even if what she does is small. Or feel bad for being more aware of what little we get in these movies. It’s okay to admit certain flaws. Nothing’s perfect and not above criticism as long as we’re respectful about it. And for the kiddies who would like to see a cartoony animal girl character for the first time in these films, Amy would be a fantastic way to start.
Amy debuting in Sonic 3 and interacting with the boys would be a lovely way of establishing that close connection between the core four of the franchise. They’d literally have the definition of love at their sides. Again, small changes can make big differences. That’s all I have to say. Now I’m going to continue to be excited for the 3rd Sonic movie.
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neptuneiris · 11 months
Text
sparks (epilogue)
Yeah, I saw sparks And I saw sparks
pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader
summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.
word count: 9.4k
previous part • series masterlist
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sorry for the delay, I had some inconveniences, but here it is finally!
unfortunately everything has an end and the time has come for this other fic of mine that i have really loved writing
i never imagined that you would like it so much, which is the same thing i say with every single thing i write and post, i know haha, but i am really surprised how much you like my ideas and how much you support me, seriously thank you
i hope that in the future we can see more of this aemond and this reader, whom i keep in my heart. i loved this idea and i am very happy that you loved it too
i love you beautiful people, see you very soon in my next fics, thanks for all the support to sparks:)
warnings: angst, language, sexual content, smut
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Never before in your life have you felt so uncomfortable being in Aemond's presence.
How did we come to this?
You ask yourself, incredulous and with sadness in your chest, as you can't even look at him.
The awkwardness lingers because you both have seen each other again after almost five long months where you knew nothing about each other, also because everything between you ended badly and it's just too much now to be here together in his car… alone.
At first when Jenna got out of the car once you got to her dorm you thought about staying in the back seats, but you knew it wouldn't make any sense, neither did Aemond say anything to you but you decided not to make this even more uncomfortable.
So you got out of the car, said goodbye to her and with your shaky legs you move to the passenger seat.
You avoid looking at him at all times as you buckle up, but the shoulder-to-shoulder approach seems too much for you and the space in the car feels small even though you've been in here before.
You both watch as Jenna enters her residence building safely and once you see her disappear through the glass doors, an awkward silence envelops you both even with his music playing in the background.
Until finally your dumb brain reacts and uncomfortably you shuffle in the seat, swallow hard as your throat feels dry and you bite your lips for a second.
Aemond tries not to look at you, but does so out of the corner of his eye, as he looks straight ahead with an expectant gaze while keeping one hand on his chin and the other on the steering wheel.
Clearly he's waiting for directions, which you don't understand in the first few seconds, feeling incredibly nervous.
"It's four blocks down, then left," you point out trying not to make your voice sound nervous.
He doesn't say anything, just understands the directions and starts the car again.
You watch the window at all times, avoiding eye contact of any kind with Aemond, who is totally focused on the road and also feels the same way as you, where neither of you knows what to say.
And now you are both here, again with that silence between the two of you and that heavy tension in the air that makes you both feel uncomfortable, since not even the music helps. Neither of you speaks for as long as the drive lasts.
So it's easier for both of you to just keep quiet and wait for this to be over.
You on your side also experience a mixture of intense emotions. You want to talk to him, you really want to try, you even want to offer him your condolences for his father's death, but you can't find the right words to speak and the worry that you will make things worse keeps you silent.
Aemond on the one hand wants to break the ice and find a way to try to talk to you, but the uncertainty and fear of rejection paralyze him.
It's very difficult, he can't, he doesn't feel capable and all he feels is that sharp pain in his chest.
Not to mention the incredible nerves you feel all over your body.
As the ride continues, you watch in the distance as some lightning flashes in the night sky, catching your attention. You briefly glance out of the corner of your eye at Aemond but continue to keep your gaze firmly on the window.
Not until a few minutes later a gentle rain begins to fall, creating a sort of melancholy atmosphere, which you don't know if that makes the whole situation worse.
But there are also more words you want to say, but you just can't.
The raindrops gently tap against the windshield, Aemond turns on the windshield wipers and slows down a bit.
You realize that it's not long before you have to tell him what your building is, but you still feel that lump in your throat that prevents you from speaking, even to tell him something as simple as that.
You recognize that you were the one who broke up with him and that although it hurt you too and you also suffered, you also recognize that you caused him more pain by deciding to end it all that way, taking advantage of his situation.
But you really want to offer him your heartfelt condolences, to let him know that despite everything, you still care about him, but you feel the great tension all over your body.
What right do you have to say something like that to him after what happened?
What right do you have to be empathetic with him in that regard when what you did with him trying to find you to fix things, was that you blocked him from everywhere and just disappeared from his life as if you never existed?
And you can't imagine all that he must have gone through, all that he must have felt and all that he must have endured as well for his promotion in the company.
You know you have no right.
You know the damage you caused and the most acceptable thing would have been for you to have sought him out when it just happened, but you didn't.
You honestly don't know what these months have been like for him and in trying to find the words to be able to talk to him, you don't need to, as he talks.
More than anything Aemond asks you the first thing that comes to his mind after briefly seeing some small buildings with the name of your university below the name of the residence hall, breaking the silence.
"You live in a dorm now?"
He asks you with a certain disinterested and casual tone, which still makes you feel nervous, mostly at the thought of what you will say to him before you speak, still feeling that tension and awkwardness in the air.
"Yeah," you reply softly almost in a trembling tone as you still stare out the window, "Yeah, it wasn't hard to request it in the middle of the semester, you know… because of the scholarship."
You bite your lips, feeling really very nervous indeed even though the ice has been broken, though not really. And Aemond only hums in a nodding sound, not taking his gaze off the road and not saying anything else.
You bite your lips again, wishing he would say something back, anything, so you can talk to him, tell him what you want to tell him, but the words continue to get stuck in your throat and he says nothing more.
The ride continues for a few more long minutes until you see through the window that it is almost time to tell him which building is yours, causing you to despair.
Now or never.
You say to yourself, then begin to gather bravery and fill with courage, finally letting out a long breath and without thinking too much, you look at him again and speak.
"I'm sorry about your father," you say in a soft and compassionate voice, daring to look at him.
A complex mixture of feelings invade Aemond inside, definitely not expecting that.
He hides his astonishment, still fixing his eyes on the road, suddenly feeling a knot in his stomach, as well as feeling a warmth expand throughout his chest at your words.
He doesn't know what to say.
Much less what to do.
What would have happened if you had been with him at the time when his father left this world and he went on to become the head of all Targaryen Inc?
Even though the two of you didn't end well and now he feels that support from you towards him, however small it may be, it still made him feel grateful.
Although… he can't help but feel sad too, as inevitably his mind takes him back to remembering the good times when you and he were together.
Your words spill out all over the inside of the car, suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed due to his lack of response, until he finally clears his throat as he shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat, then nods, even though he doesn't return your gaze.
Probably everything would have been a little easier.
That's why he also feels a bit angry to see once again how everything is now between the two of you, where there is no longer an 'us'.
"Thank you," he says back in a soft, emotionless voice, not daring to look at you.
And again another awkward silence sets in.
You want to ask him how he is, what he has done, how is the company, his mother, Hel, even Aegon and Daeron, you want to know what happened to his grandsire and Alys Rivers, but again… you can't speak.
At least you're thankful he didn't ignore you after you ignored him and you feel a weight off your heart, you look out the window again while biting your lower lip, still feeling that awkwardness and that tension all over the air, but strangely feeling a little relieved.
And finally that moment comes, you see your residence in the distance.
With this also coming to an end, with a resigned feeling you point to the building, again feeling on edge just from talking to him.
"It's over there," you point to him and he doesn't say anything to you, just starts to pull up to the curb to park.
You swallow hard and Aemond brings the car to a complete stop, right in front of the doors of your building, then continues to stare ahead, expectantly, waiting for the moment when you will get out of his car and probably never see you again.
With a sadness in your chest, you grab your phone and also your purse to get out, also being aware that after this, you probably won't see him again for a while. Or maybe never again, because of your new job position.
And that disappoints you, makes you feel sad and inevitably, you resist the urge to cry.
"Thank you, I really appreciate it," you tell him honestly and sincerely, placing your hand on the handle to open the door and walk out.
He just hums back with a slight nod, not watching you, his hand resting on the steering wheel and the other on his chin, his gaze straight ahead, which hurts you, that he can't even watch you. At least not at this moment.
Because he doesn't want to see you go again.
He doesn't want to have another image of you leaving, leaving him, not knowing when he will see you again or if he will even see you again.
Again you feel that sharp pain in your chest as he apart from not being able to watch you, he can not even speak to you again, just waiting for this to be over and nothing more.
Although… just as you are about to open the door to leave and enter your building, you stop.
And you understand. You understand his lack of interactivity and also his lack of words. But this is just as painful for you as it is for him.
Your shoulders slump from the tension you were feeling, suddenly feeling defeated and like you have nothing left to lose. That's why you stop all your movements and with a thoughtful and disappointed look, with your lips parted you turn to watch him.
And that's when you finally ask him the question that was always invading your mind since you broke up with him, even crying, being more of a statement than a question but now you can finally know his answer.
Aemond frowns slightly as he notices out of the corner of his eye how you stop and don't get out of his car.
He feels your gaze on him and when you don't move any further nor say anything to him, he finally looks directly into your eyes with a confused and expectant expression at the same time.
You know your question is risky, but you need to know.
"Do you hate me?"
You ask him with uncertainty in your voice, your eyes full of sadness.
"Because of how I ended things?"
A heavy silence again fills the interior of the car for a moment with your words hovering, as Aemond feels astonishment again but hides it well, also not expecting to hear those words from you, as an unfamiliar feeling settles in his chest.
He remains completely silent, thinking about your question and also what he will tell you next.
Answer with the truth or be just as cruel to you, as you were to him, even if it's not true?
The simple question in his mind makes him feel absurd and also makes him scold himself, as it doesn't make any sense.
The sound of the light rain still patters softly against the car, the lightning continues to reflect every minute, his music also plays softly in the background in that delicate moment, where you wait for an answer and he feels a whirlwind of emotions, contemplating the question with seriousness.
And finally he breaks the silence between the two of you, deciding to answer your question honestly, still focused on the road and not watching you.
"No."
His voice is clear, but with a slight sadness and his answer makes you feel more that pain in your chest and also that a new knot forms in your throat, feeling more the urge to cry, but inexplicably you feel a relief inside because of his answer.
Despite everything, he doesn't hate you.
You think with wonder and longing, for he should hate you, really. Yet he doesn't. And you don't know if that just makes everything worse.
"I-I thought…" you begin to say, trying to control your trembling voice, "I thought you had moved on and—
And after his confession, Aemond lets out another long breath, not saying or doing anything else, still expectant of what you will do, whether you will finally get off or say something else.
And you nod your head slightly as you bite the inside of your cheek, chasing away your tears.
You stop as you hear him let out an incredulous snort with an amused grin, shaking his head, averting his gaze from the road for a moment, feeling anger sweep through his body.
"Do I look like I've moved on?"
And before you can say anything else, he speaks again.
He asks you as he finally watches you with disbelief and anticipation in his gaze. And you bite your lips, further controlling the urge to cry, as Aemond turns his gaze forward, clenching his jaw in annoyance.
"You did what you thought was right and necessary at the time," he says seriously, "It wasn't what I wanted but I don't blame you because I know I made mistakes too," he acknowledges, "My father's death just made everything worse," he says finally, still with annoyance in his gaze.
And right after his words and silence again settles between the two of you, you know you have nothing more to do here.
The rain continues to fall and with your heart in a fist, you finally decide to get out of his car and take refuge in your room, where you will cry yourself to sleep. So you grab the door handle, making sure one last time that you have all your things with you.
You withdraw your tears and speak without daring to look at him.
"Thanks again for the ride."
You tell him for the last time in your soft, sad, broken voice, controlling your emotions and your sobs.
And just as you open the door and the sound of the rain becomes more audible, before one of your legs touches the ground and you get completely out of the car, this time it is Aemond's voice that stops you.
"And do you hate me?"
His question with a soft tone makes you stop immediately, making you freeze in surprise for a moment, since you did not expect that, and then slowly turn your gaze back to him, where he is already watching you with the same need to know your answer as you were watching him before.
He notices your glassy eyes, he notices your sadness and also how you are controlling your crying, he notices it all. And you also notice the sadness in his eyes, that longing that you can't really explain.
Because you also feel that same longing inside you.
"Do you hate me for not fighting hard enough for you?"
And in that moment, you both know he means everything.
For not fighting Otto Hightower, Alys Rivers and his work hard enough. For allowing everything to escalate, for not fixing it soon enough, for making you reach your breaking point and that's why you decided to break up with him.
And you… had never thought about it, about hating him. But you immediately know the answer, without hesitation.
"No."
And again Aemond feels caught in a whirlpool of emotions.
His gaze reflects slight surprise and also slight relief, but also regret. He honestly didn't expect to hear that answer from you. And his surprise is mixed with his confusion.
Even though his own grandsire interfered in the relationship and also his possible partner Alys Rivers in a completely improper way, where they both pretended you didn't exist and he didn't do enough to protect you and the relationship, he wonders in confusion: why? Why don't you hate him?
"You don't even do with knowing that I could have done more to make it all work?" he asks you softly and uncertainly, "So we could have been together?"
You focus your gaze on the rain-fogged windshield, watching the drops fall and slide down the glass, as you again feel a lump in your throat and process his words.
You bite your lips, again feeling the urge to cry.
Honestly you did had wanted him to have fought harder for you, for both of you. But you know it wasn't his fault. It was just things he couldn't control, things that weren't entirely in his hands.
You know that work is work and he really tried by putting his boundaries firm with Rivers and also by worrying all the time about you, all the time making you his priority.
But sadly it wasn't enough.
You let out a sigh and with your eyes on the rain, still feeling a mix of complex emotions, you speak in your calm and soft voice, mostly honest, but at the same time with a touch of sadness and resignation.
"No, I don't hate you," you clarify again, "It's not fair to blame you for what happened, the situation was complicated and we both made mistakes," you watch him with your teary eyes, "And I know I owe you an apology."
Aemond's gaze contracts into one more of sadness, watching you intently but with that hard look on his features where he tries not to break down, as the rain out there intensifies and you gently close the door again.
"I'm really sorry," you sigh, in a light sob, "I'm really sorry that I took advantage of your trip to give you no time at all. I never meant to hurt you like that," you tell him honestly, "I did what I thought was right. But you didn't deserve that."
Aemond feels a slight ache in his chest, with that feeling of sadness again taking over and his mind goes back to the past, to remembering that horrible day in that horrible moment, when you left him without looking back.
And he thinks of all he could have done and all he could have been.
But despite this, he feels a flash of relief to know that you don't really hate him, but he is also overcome with regret for apologizing to him, when he never felt the need or thought you owed him an apology before.
Just like you, he feels remorse, a longing, and that longing inside him that still lingers and grows bigger.
"I regret… everything," he tells you in a soft, low murmur, drawing your full attention, "I regret not trying harder, not showing you how much you meant to me…" he pauses a little, "Not stopping my grandsire sooner... and I'm really sorry, for everything I put you through."
And he tells you all this with restrained emotion, feeling completely vulnerable and sincere, wanting you to understand the depth of his feelings.
And you do, you really do.
But honestly, you can't take this anymore.
The rain is getting heavier and heavier and what you need is to release all the tears you've been holding back for a while now. And you don't want to cry in front of him, simply because you don't want to look so vulnerable and you want to get it over with, because in the end, he will go back to his own way and you will go back to yours.
And it's better for you to end it once and for all before it gets harder for you.
"You don't have to apologize," you say through your held back tears, "But if that's what you need to say, it's okay, I understand."
You try to keep calm in your voice, but there is a mixture of sadness and understanding in your tone. And even though Aemond feels a weight less on his shoulders, the sadness is persistent and he says nothing more, with silence enveloping them.
And that's when you decide it's time to leave.
"Take care of yourself, okay? And thanks again."
You don't watch him when you say it, you don't dare to watch him, to watch as you again leave him behind, as you quickly wipe the tears that have escaped from your cheeks and again place your hand on the handle to open the door, turning your back on him.
And here it comes, the ultimate goodbye.
Aemond noticing all this, with his sad, desperate, anguished and worried expression, says to himself too: now or never.
And again he stops you with his words.
"I fired my grandsire."
He says to you in a tone just as desperate as his face, almost in a needy tone, again stopping you and making your breath catch for a moment, listening to him carefully.
"As soon as I became head, I fired him," he tells you more plainly, watching you sadly and desperately, "Rhaenyra took his place and I never associated with Rivers," he says and between your parted lips in surprise, "In the end I cut all connection with her and her company. And instead I successfully partnered with Rodrik Greyjoy, who has connections to Dorne and Essos."
You turn your gaze slowly back to him, where he is already watching you, being completely honest with every word he is saying, drawing your attention and making you focus entirely on him, now knowing the answer to the questions you asked yourself in the pub when you saw him.
And… you don't know what to say.
His grandsire and Rivers, they're both just not around anymore.
And probably if Aemond had become the boss sooner, maybe you and he would still be together. And that's what hurts you the most, that Aemond couldn't act sooner until he was the boss.
And how you wish you could have been present at that moment in his life.
Aemond averts his gaze from yours for a moment, where neither of you say anything else nor do anything else, submerging you back into that silence that is eclipsed a bit by his music and also the rain outside.
And Aemond again summons up the courage to ask you what has been going through his mind since the relationship ended, all the while feeling a sadness inside, along with helplessness, frustration and jealousy, thinking the worst.
"Do you…" he pauses for a moment, feeling the bitterness in his tone that he can't help, "Do you have someone new?"
Your eyes immediately meet his, who watches you completely attentive to your answer, wanting, no, needing to know that question that has tormented him every night and day, making him feel jealous and annoyed.
And your gaze shows a mixture of emotions, from mild surprise to sadness and indecision. But not because of the question, but because of him.
How could he think you have someone new when he's been the greatest love of your life so far?
Practically Aemond has ruined every other man for you and you are still completely in love with him. But you understand his question, because of the sudden way you decided to break up with him.
And honestly, you too sometimes wondered the same thing, if he had found someone else or if he finally decided to get involved with Rivers.
"No," you answer him truthfully.
Just you.
You want to say, but the words get stuck in your throat.
And Aemond feels a huge relief course through his body, as he looks away from yours once more and nods his head slowly, running a hand over his chin.
And you can't help but ask him the same question with a certain cautious tone, just to make sure.
"Do you—
"Of course not," he tells you immediately, still with sadness in his gaze.
And that to this day still lingers, just in the same way that you are still in love with him.
It's also absurd for him for you to return the question, since finding someone new was the last thing on his mind.
And even though he moved on with his life and his work more than anything else, his mind and heart were still anchored to you in a way that he couldn't get over.
Aemond unable to contain his emotions any longer, finally tells you the words that have been stuck in his throat for a while now in a trembling voice.
"I haven't stopped thinking about you, not even for a moment, since you left."
His gaze meets yours, feeling just as vulnerable as you did before, as your eyes fill with emotion, longing and surprise, beginning to feel your heart beating too hard, unable to control your heart rate.
"I came to keep Floris company because I knew you would come, that's the only reason I decided to show up, because I wanted to see you again and try to talk to you, fix what I couldn't fix before, if you would let me," he tells you honestly, then lets out a bitter laugh to himself, "How could I have anyone else when it's clear I'm still completely crazy about you?" he slowly shakes his head, "I still love you, more than you or anyone else could ever imagine."
And it is there, in his most sincere confession, that he tells you that he still loves you in his slightly trembling voice.
And you for a moment, you are silent, struggling to contain your emotions. However… inevitably tears begin to slide down your cheeks freely, uncontrollably.
Tears of happiness, excitement, surprise, but also of sadness and nostalgia simply because of the situation. And Aemond seeing your state, feels like a dagger piercing his heart, still hating to see you cry and it's worse when he knows you're crying for him.
But before he can say anything to you to stop you from crying, feeling guilty, you with your emotions running high, suddenly feeling a liberating impulse, you let yourself go.
"Oh Aemond," you sigh through your tears.
And without giving him time to anticipate anything, surprisingly in an act necessitated by that impulse so suddenly in your system, you lean fully into him and press your lips to his.
And Aemond without thinking at all, though still in surprise, wastes no time at all and kisses you back in an equally needy way, also leaning completely into you, where one of his large, firm hands takes you around the back of your neck to hold you close, kissing you deep and slow.
You gasp softly into his mouth at the sensation, then move your lips again in rhythm with him, feeling every texture of his lips, those lips you missed so much, bringing your hands around his neck, clinging completely to him.
You both almost devour each other, it being a kiss with a slight mingling of teeth and where it feels so fucking good, his lips moving in coordination with yours, deep.
And you find yourself responding to his kiss now that way, being completely addictive, enjoying his warm and consuming lips, not wanting to stop, feeling your desire increase every second for wanting to feel his closeness, also that little tingle in your between leg.
"Fuck baby," he sighs into your mouth.
Then his tongue makes its way all the way inside your mouth, unable to help it, making you gasp and feel a curious sensation in your lower abdomen as well from your nickname that you haven't heard in a while.
"I love you too," you tell him in between kisses, "So fucking much. Never stop doing so."
Aemond groans in your lips, feeling that warmth from before expanding again in his chest when he hears your words, as well as he feels a fire starting to grow inside him that makes him take you with his other free hand from his hip and forces you to sit in his lap.
His moist, warm mouth welcomes you back, taking in the slight smell of beer and cigarette which doesn't displease you at all, on the contrary, it makes you continue to more fervently caress your lips with his in a deep way in wet sounds.
It's not complicated even though you are both inside his car and the steering wheel is right behind you, being a little uncomfortable, but you don't mind.
So with the same need he has to feel you close, you make yourself comfortable and with your hand around the edge of his jaw, bring his face closer to yours to kiss him again.
This way Aemond can hold both hands on your face, keeping you exactly where he wants you, then gently caress your curves and breathe hard against your face.
"I love you so much," he murmurs against you between kisses, kissing you again, "I can't get enough of you."
You slide one of your hands down his chest, inhaling deeply to return his demanding kisses, as he continues with his hands on your hips, pressing you against him, letting you feel what is happening inside his pants.
You almost let out a whimper as you feel his rigid, hard, hot arousal beneath you, almost below your center, where your juices begin to flow.
"Did you miss me?"
He asks you in a low, husky murmur, completely aroused, then pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, starting a trail, making you gasp loudly and tilt your head to the side to give him more accessibility.
You bite your lower lip as his hands go all the way down and briefly caress your thighs, then squeeze and lightly caress the soft skin of your ass above your skirt, increasing your arousing desire all over your insides.
"Yes baby, all the time," you reply with a little difficulty, panting and breathing hard.
"Miss you too," he says in a hoarse murmur as he kisses your collarbone, your throat and again your neck.
Placing your hand back on one of his cheeks, you kiss him again with need, beginning to move smoothly and deeply back and forth your hips against him, his hardness slamming directly against your center, making you moan.
Aemond lets out a deep growl as he feels the friction of your movements against him, squeezing both of your ass cheeks with more fervor, not wanting you to stop.
Simply everything around you both disappears at that moment, the rain is still coming down hard and you're both too busy to worry if someone will walk by and see you like this.
"I want you, now," he murmurs against your lips, breathing and panting just as hard as you are.
And this catches your attention, causing you to stop kissing him and watch him at the eye that is fully dilated and full of lust and arousal, which you also know your eyes must be like this.
And as much as you want to calm that slight delicious ache of arousal in your nerve center since it's been too long since he was last inside you, at that moment you remember where you are and look around, barely being able to see anything through the rain-fogged glass, but still causing you hesitation.
"But..." you say with your voice and look not entirely convinced, again trying to see something through the glass, "H-here?"
"It's been so long," he tells you, again leaving wet kisses on your neck that make you shiver all over, trying to convince you.
"I know b-but… "you say still undecided, "I don't know—
"Please, baby," he looks into your eyes, "Feel what you're doing to me."
It forces you to again move your hips against it deeply, fully feeling its heavy hardness in need of attention and release, the friction sending delicious waves of arousal that also need attention.
"I want you. Right here. Right now. Don't tell me you don't want me too, I know you do."
You almost let out a little cry of surprise when unexpectedly, he sniffs under your skirt and just above your panties, you feel the huge palm of his hand cover your pussy with ease, caressing you in your entirety.
"A-ah!"
A soft whimper escapes you and you furrow your brows with the clear excitement and pleasure in your gaze, beginning to breathe harder, agitated and shaky.
"You're all soaked, baby."
He says in the midst of his excitation, delighted by the way you're dripping all over him, stroking you with his huge hand all over from front to back, making you moan loudly and start to move your hips against his hand, needing more, the friction being absolutely delicious.
And just as one of his long, slender fingers is about to pull the fabric of your panties aside to touch you directly, with a feeling of regret for the pleasure but also desperate, you stop his hand abruptly, not letting him go any further.
Aemond furrows his eyebrows in confusion amidst all his excitement, staring at you blankly, as you return your nervous, worried, agitated gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
"I-I wasn't expecting this," you begin to say, even with your hand completely stopping his movements, nervously, "And it's been a while since I've shaved."
Aemond's confusion only becomes more noticeable even after hearing your words, understanding but at the same time not, as you watch him completely worried and on alert, not having the slightest idea what will happen next.
But Aemond knows what exactly will happen next, still not understanding why you said that and why you look so worried about it when he understands that you already know.
So he shakes his head briefly in your direction, still confused.
"And you think I care about that?"
His words take you completely by surprise and before you can say or do anything, his finger finally pulls the fabric aside and with his index and middle finger directly touches your dripping wet center, stroking you in slight circles making you moan and arch your back with your face contracting in complete pleasure.
Aemond can't help but smile in satisfaction at the way you react and respond, feeling you moisten his fingers more, loving your every expression and how you are like this to him.
And finally he expertly slips his fingers between your folds as if he wants to check how wet you are.
"Aemond," you moan his name, wiggling your hips against his hand again.
"Yes, baby," he praiseswith even satisfaction and desire in his gaze, "God, you are so fucking hot."
"Please," you whine, watching him with need and pleasure, "Please fuck me, fuck me with your fingers."
"Yeah? You want that?"
He watches you with tease, feeling his fingers slide all over your entrance, making you moan and sigh for him, feeling so good but not enough, as you need more.
"Aemond," you say his name in a plea.
And that smirk appears on his lips, deciding he doesn't want to tease you since he's just as desperate as you are, but this little moment is about you.
"Here you go, baby, all for you. I'm gonna take good care of my girl."
You moan prologue as he slips both fingers into your tight, hot, needy entrance, moving them inside you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs.
You arch your back as you moan and your chest is right in front of him, his eye going at that moment to your confined breasts, needing to be released and also needing to receive attention.
He doesn't need to say anything to you, as you are too busy receiving and enjoying the feel of his fingers inside you, so with his free hand he moves it up the back of your top, reaches in and with a calculated and expert movement, undoes the clip of your bra.
This doesn't totally get your attention, what does is how Aemond moves your bra out of the way and down the front of your top, exposes your breasts for him by the side of your cleavage.
"Gods," he murmurs to himself in delight to then bring his hand up, kneading your left breast all over and bringing his lips to your nipple on your right breast.
Now the feel of his lips and one of his hands on your breasts makes you moan louder as you continue to feel him move his fingers inside you just the way you need and exactly how you like.
Just as he knows exactly how you like it when he licks and kisses your nipples with need, grunting in the middle of his licks, watching your face at all times, not wanting to miss every expression on your face.
"Yes, just like that, p-please," you whimper, arching your back more and bringing one of your hands to his hair to push his face more against your breasts.
But you lose it completely when he twists and arches his fingers inside you with purpose, stroking and searching until he finds the spot that draws a gasp from you.
"There we go," he murmurs, watching you, "Fuck, you're so warm, baby, "he groans, "You're going to feel so fucking good around my cock."
His words send more delicious waves of pleasure to your center that he continues to caress and soothe, as he watches his fingers disappear inside you again and again, continuously, to return his attention to your breasts.
Each caress of his fingers, hand and lips make you melt completely on top of him, still panting and feeling dizzy and lightheaded, having no coherent thought because of the sensations.
And yet, it's not enough, you need more, need more of him, desperately.
"So fucking good," you murmur in sighs, your breath coming in ragged gasps, "Please, baby, don't stop."
Aemond groans
"I can feel you squeezing my fingers, baby," he says, stroking your soft spot, "Are you going to cum?"
"Y-yes," you say in a faint murmur, contracting your face into one of pleasure and need, moving your hips faster against his hand, "Oh fuuuck."
"You are so beautiful," he murmurs, beginning again to leave wet kisses down your face and neck, "I can't believe you're mine… and how perfect you are," he says over the softness of your breasts, husky, "Fuck."
"Aem-mond," you say in a desperate tone, still swaying your hips and about to reach your high point.
He feels you clench tighter all around your fingers and before you can finally feel your orgasm hit you, he stops his movements and removes his fingers from inside you.
You whimper with confusion and discomfort more than evident on your face, watching him instantly, breathing hard and fast, with the slight sweat on your forehead, about to reproach, but Aemond speaks quickly.
"On my cock," he clarifies to you, taking his hands off you for a moment, bringing them to his belt to remove it and also unbuckle his pants, "I want you to cum all over my cock."
As he begins to remove his belt with a little difficulty, he is totally focused on that, but as he unbuckles his pants and is about to release his hardened member, he turns his eye to your face and sees even the discomfort and frustration on your face from the denied orgasm.
"Oh baby, don't look at me like that," he tells you with the smirk in his gaze, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, "Don't worry, I'll give you exactly what you want. Be a good girl for me and be patient."
This inevitably brings waves of pleasure to your aroused yet aching center for not cumming, so you squeeze your thighs together in a vain attempt to find relief.
And finally Aemond releases his big, hard, hot cock from his underwear, watching you all the while with pleasure and completely ravenous.
His long, slender fingers wrap around the base, then stroke himself with deep, long strokes, grunting lowly each time his thumb brushes over his sensitive, red tip.
At the scene of him stroking himself with your lust-filled eyes, you can't help but moisten your lips with the tip of your tongue, needing him inside your mouth or inside you, either is fine with you.
"Spread your legs for me, baby," he says, bringing one of his hands to your thigh, "Let me see that pretty pussy."
Even though it's been a while, you still shamelessly try to spread your legs as wide as you can, letting him see your wet pussy dripping with your juices, glistening slightly and fully engorged, needing him.
"Fuck," he growls, "All this for me?"
He brings his hand to your center again and with his thumb strokes gently but with just enough pressure your sensitive bud, making you moan and arch your back from feeling it more intensely.
Aemond bites his lower lip as he watches your pussy contract from his caresses, then he moves his eye up to your face and at the end he focuses totally on your slightly sweaty body, your perfect breasts with both hard nipples making his cock throb in a painful but delicious way at the same time.
"I want to ride you," you say in the middle of your expression of pleasure, panting.
Aemond smiles and pulls his hand away from your needy pussy before he goes any further and places them both on either side of your body, watching you expectantly.
"Go ahead, baby. I'm all yours."
This only heightens your arousal more and the idea of riding him rough is too delicious and makes you feel yourself getting wetter.
You wrap his heavy cock in your hand, breathing through your mouth, then rise up on his lap and direct his tip to your needy, dripping pussy.
You slowly lower down and feel him open you all the way, making you moan his name too loudly.
"Oh my god, Ae-mond" you whined, closing your eyes in complete delight.
"Oh fuck," Aemond groans, "Fuck, baby."
You both curse as it feels so fucking good.
You slowly descend, moaning throughout, feeling yourself open wider for him, causing Aemond to groan and curse louder as he feels you squeeze him in such an exaggeratedly good way that it almost makes him cum.
Even with more of his long, thick cock left to enter your pussy, he grabs your hips with both burning hands and pushes you down to finish sinking all of him inside you, where you both moan and grunt deliciously.
"That's so fucking good," you praise, completely drunk with pleasure and how he fills you completely.
Only he fills you this way, being exactly what you need. And you've missed it.
He gives you time for your body to adjust to his size after so long, while this time with both hands he caresses your breasts, giving attention with his tongue to your hard buds, making you moan as it feels too much, though not enough.
"You like it that much, hm?"
He teases you and then runs his tongue right across your right bud, lightly grazing it with his teeth, making you gasp as his hands continue to caress the softness of your breasts with sharp movements that take in all your skin.
And once you feel comfortable again with his size inside you, you begin to move your hips against him.
"Oh yeah, baby," he grunts, "Just like that."
You continue to move back and forth, moaning his name, feeling his warm breath against your breasts, beginning to feel your skin bristle from all the sensation that is too much but not enough at the same time.
"Yes, baby," you say in a whimper, "Please, you feel so good."
You begin to move more purposefully up and down now, causing him to growl again and let out a curse in your ear, holding you tighter around your waist by how you bounce against him.
The rain out there probably helps make your moans not so audible, but you no longer care where you are and if anyone might notice you both, especially since the car is moving with your movements on top of him, but you don't care.
You can only focus on one thing and that is Aemond, your perfect boyfriend.
You only feel more waves of pleasure that his cock soothes as you see his beautiful smooth but slightly contracted face in intense pleasure, with a few strands of his now short hair sticking to his forehead from his light sweat, looking so sexy.
Each drag of his cock head sends electricity throughout your body and a feeling of euphoria, almost making you see stars and fireworks, moving more fervently against him.
His breathing is just as fast as yours, hearing on top of that the slapping of your ass against his thighs every time you thrust him deep inside you again.
"That's it," he hums, then tightens the grip of his hands on your hips and begins to move faster and harder on top of him.
You moan loudly, feeling too much, delicious and driving you completely crazy.
"Fuck," you whined at the way he guides you, closing your eyes in complete delight.
And the next thing he does as he feels your walls contract around him, he wraps his arms around you and holds you with his warm hands from your lower back, grunts and begins to meet your movements as he too thrusts his hips upward in hard, fast, hard thrusts.
The air is completely gone from your lungs once more and you moan louder, the sound of both your skins sticking together also being heard, making your eyes roll back.
"Yes, yes, baby," you say as best you can, drunk with pleasure, frowning as you feel yourself cumming soon.
"Holy fuck, baby," he croons, "Keep goin', baby. Squeeze my cock. I wanna feel you cum first," he groans, his voice almost desperate.
He continues to whisper obscene things in your ear, that you are his, how much he loves you, how beautiful you look all desperate with his cock inside you, what he wants to do to you next, how long he has waited to be inside you again and how much he loves to hear your beautiful sounds that are only for him.
You can't help but react to his dirty words and your pussy squeezes him harder, making him grunt and curse with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his cheeks pink from the heat and his lips half-open, breathing hard.
"Fuck-fuck," you say quickly, clinging tighter to him in a desperate way.
"You're going to cum, aren't you?" he purrs and you let out a moan, trying to speak, "Yes, baby. Cum for me, please."
He leans in and kisses you with need, as he continues to grind his hips against yours and you moan into his mouth as he brings his thumb back to your bud and strokes it with just enough pressure to make you moan and feel more of your pleasure on the verge of exploding.
And with three more sweeps of his thumb on your clit, you get goose bumps and collapse on top of him.
You moan his name and every muscle in your body tenses at once, you tingle and your mind goes blank as you let out a high pitched moan louder than the previous ones and you see stars behind your eyes as a wave passes all over your insides.
You feel the euphoria all over your head and you jerk for a moment, almost aching from it all, feeling too much as Aemond continues to fuck you through your orgasm, reaching his own peak.
"Oh, fuck," you hear him moan and with one last hard, hard lunge, a hot liquid spurt of his cum fills you inside you.
The pleasure burns all over you, it courses through your body and you gasp, breathing hard and barely processing everything that has just happened.
Together you wait for the high to subside as you drop your head heavily against his shoulder and he continues to hold you, waiting for his racing heartbeat to calm down.
He begins to leave soft kisses on your forehead and brushes away your damp locks stuck to your sweaty face gently, smiling completely happy and satisfied, while you continue to melt under his touch and watch for a moment as the rain continues out there.
"Are you okay, baby?"
He asks you while still trying to catch his breath and you hums in affirmation, slowly sitting back up to look him in the eye.
"More than okay," you assure him with that satisfaction in your body.
You smile at him with love in your gaze and lean in to kiss him, where once again you think of how much you missed him and how happy it makes you to be with him again in this way, being all you needed.
"Stay with me in my room," you tell him as you pull away from him, not taking your hands away from his face.
"I wasn't planning on not staying, love."
He smiles back at you and he leaves one more kiss on your lips again, pulling your whole naked body against him again, holding you tight, as if he doesn't want to let you go.
His cock softens inside you and you carefully pull away from on top of him, feeling like there's a mess on your crotch and thighs, but nothing you can't fix since your room is a few feet away.
Once you both finish cleaning up what you can inside his car, where barely Aemond cares about it, you and he run under the rain to hurry into your building, where you take him to your room.
Tonight is not the last time Aemond makes you come, as once you are both in the four walls of your room, he makes you come with his fingers, tongue and cock, proclaiming it is to make up for the time you were both apart.
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The next morning, in your bed, you can't help the silly smile that appears on your lips when you see the serene and calm face of Aemond, who is sleeping peacefully next to you.
You immediately place your head on his chest and hug him, wanting to feel that closeness and touch from him, completely happy but also tired from everything you both did last night.
You feel that satisfied tingle between your legs and now being like this with him, just time seems to stand still for you, wanting to be like this forever.
Aemond stirs a little under you and you feel and hear him inhale deeply, then feel his warm hands wrap around your bare back, pulling your body closer to him, making you smile softly.
"Hmm," he says hoarsely, sending a vibration you feel in his chest, "Good morning," he says still sleepily.
You laugh softly under your breath, lifting your face to watch him.
"It's the afternoon, actually," you tell him amused then leave a soft kiss on his lips.
He hums, still keeping his eye closed, while instead of seeing his blue sapphire in his left empty socket, he has on his prosthetic eye, which you hadn't seen in some time, but still had missed.
"Really?" he asks you still sleepily.
"It's twelve o'clock," you let him know, then look at him somewhat warily, "Don't you have to work or something?"
"Hmm…" he says for a moment, hugging you against his chest more firmly, "Yeah but it doesn't matter, I want to take the day off."
You can't help the small tight-mouthed smile that appears on your lips and you pull your face closer to his, closing your eyes and melting under his touch and the comfort of your bed, while out there the weather is cloudy from the storm at night.
"You know my work now won't interfere between us, right?" he suddenly asks you softly, getting your attention, "I'm not going to make the same mistakes as last time. I'm going to do this right."
Again you can't help but smile a little, as you remain silent for a moment and gently nuzzle your nose with his.
"Now I know," you murmur softly to him, in response.
Aemond smiles softly, marking his dimples on either side of his cheeks, as the two of you make no effort to get out of bed and entwine your legs together, intending to stay here for a while longer.
And in that moment, it's just you and him, both in the right place at the right time.
That day in your room, you both talked about everything, about what would come next and how you would face it together, how you would do things now and also caught up for the months apart.
There were all kinds of laughs and heartfelt conversations. Instead of focusing on the mistakes of the past, you chose to look forward and build that new future together.
A few weeks after you and Aemond got back together, the topic of you both living together comes up again, but this time, he gives you the news that he stopped living in the apartment where you both lived together and recently bought an apartment for himself in the upper suburbs.
And it's only a matter of time before you both now create new moments in a new place.
Even the press gives the news after they see you both in a luxurious restaurant enjoying a rich dinner, where there is no lack of physical contact and some innocent kisses, where you both look absolutely happy.
Aemond's family, Hel more than anything else, are happy that the two of you are back together, where you never crossed paths with Otto Hightower.
And it is also only a matter of time before all the other close people around know that you and Aemond are back together again.
But Aemond couldn't care less, since he has you back, his sweet girl and that's all he cares about.
His company continued to be successful, even increased with now him being the boss and your classes and work remained the same, only with the difference that you now have that stability you had so longed for back.
And fortunately it came back into your life, as well as Aemond's new life, having you back.
You both supported each other in your goals and dreams, finding strength and inspiration in this new chapter of your lives.
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taradactyls · 3 months
Text
Something I love about how Pride and Prejudice is told through an omnipresent narrator, aside from the witty remarks and insight into other characters it allows even though it's usually focused on Elizabeth, is how it plays on the audience's own prejudices and assumptions.
The narrator tells us very early on, chapter 4, that Darcy is "haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting." We've already seen that when we meet him the previous chapter, and will see more of it in those following. But it's the readers, along with Elizabeth, who take that observation as not only a list of flaws (despite only the first actually being negative) but presumes even more damaging flaws must be attached to it. Darcy can be off-putting, especially so in the setting we meet him in: he dismissed Elizabeth within earshot of her, didn't engage with people attempting to converse with him, etc. It's easy to assume the worst of him in a world so driven by social niceties, and because we follow Elizabeth, who is so lively and playful amidst the rules which govern society. Elizabeth thinks he's bad tempered? It would make sense - he hasn't shown consideration for others much socially, why would he care when he's angry? He acted from resentment and jealousy and went against his father's will? That's not such a jump after the conclusion of a bad temper, his own acknowledgement of implacable resentment, and evidence of pride. The awareness of one offensive trait so naturally leads to prejudice against it, that we easily assume still worse qualities must exist. We are as mistaken as Elizabeth.
Even the idea that 'No, Darcy was never haughty or rude, he was just shy and misunderstood, the narrator is wrong' is just magnifying that prejudice. Yes, we do find out later that Darcy is not at ease among strangers, and was always intrinsically good; his morals and core values meant he was never as bad as Elizabeth believed. But that doesn't mean he was without flaws, and it's so fascinating that some analysis of his character seek to completely remove the negative traits which he eventually overcame after acknowledging them in himself. The logic seems to be that they feel if he had them in the start that he isn't actually such a good person. It's just another example of being so prejudiced against certain flaws that it's impossible for some people to reconcile that there doesn't have to be more serious failings attached, and someone can still be a good person despite being arrogant and not always nice. It's, ironically, being prejudiced in the exact same way that Elizabeth was at the start of the novel. It's amazing that Jane Austen was able to tap into that aspect of human nature so deftly, and invoke in both in her main character, and readers to this day.
Now, of course, the story is so well known it's rare for anyone to read it blind, so it's less likely anyone will be unaware of Darcy's good qualities despite first seeing his worst. Even if they do, Pride and Prejudice has become so genre defining that new readers who are the slightest bit genre savvy will be more aware than contemporary audiences were. But even if we know the story it's still so understandable why Elizabeth feels the way she does. We see what she sees and feel her conclusions make sense. Just as, even though the narrator tells us Darcy is starting to catch feelings for Elizabeth, we fully comprehend her not noticing and believing there's a mutual dislike. And though that is concrete evidence of Elizabeth not reading Darcy and his motives correctly, we are still so sympathetic of the basis of her prejudice that her continued belief in Darcy's lack of virtues makes sense from her point of view. We can see, as she later will, that she takes it too far, and should have noticed evidence to the contrary, but her prejudice against him based on his early behaviour and her pride at reading people correctly is so understandable.
Basically, in a story about the characters' pride and prejudices, I love, love, LOVE how the narrator's voice brings out those same traits in readers the exact same way we see it presenting in Elizabeth. We're all on that journey with her, and we can likewise learn the same lessons about ourselves as she does. Pride and Prejudice feels timeless, because even though society and thus the nuance changes, the book is about human nature, and that remains essentially the same.
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hairmetal666 · 2 years
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cw// cancer mentioned, no character death
Eddie's moving to Chicago with his boyfriend and their best friend.
Eddie's moving to Chicago and it feels like everything is finally coming together.
Eddie's moving to Chicago, Steve Harrington is his boyfriend, and his life is starting.
Eddie's moving to Chicago, but then Wayne gets sick.
He tells Steve that he can't leave, not yet, needs to take care of his uncle.
And Steve, his Steve, perfect Steve, says with no hesitation, "I'll stay. Eddie, I'll stay with you. We'll go in six months. Together, that's the plan."
But Eddie can't let Steve do that; Steve who is everything bright and good and right in the world. Steve needs to get out, even if Eddie can't.
He insists Steve go, insists so hard that Steve can only agree, though Eddie can tell it's killing him.
Before they leave, Steve and Eddie cling to each other.
"Six months, baby. Just six months and then I'll be with you."
"I'll stay, Eds. Let me stay for you?"
"Not in a million years. What's six months in a lifetime together?"
"You mean that?" Steve whispers, the words tickling against Eddie's neck.
"Of course, sweetheart. Never meant anything more in my life."
They cling harder, crying against each other, despite it being goodbye for now and not forever.
They haven't said "I love you" yet, and the words hang on his tongue as the embrace ends, but he can't say it now; not when six months of time and 200-plus miles will separate them.
Except Wayne isn't better in six months. He's not worse, but the cancer's still there, he's still sick. And Eddie can't leave.
Eddie figured something like this would happen. Knew in the back of his mind that Steve and Robin and Chicago were never anything but a pipe dream.
When he calls Steve, he thinks he's ready.
"Okay, so Hopper's letting us borrow his truck, but he needs to know our timeline. You think next Saturday--"
"Steve." He says. His stomach clenches.
"What's wrong?" Because Steve knows, like he always does.
"Wayne's not better."
Steve is silent for a beat. "Okay...that's okay. I'll come back. Right now. Tonight. We'll do this tog--"
"You know I can't let you do that."
"Eddie--"
"No, Steve, don't. Okay? Let's just. It's time, you know?"
"It's not. Eddie, it isn't. Don't do this. Please, please," Steve cries.
"It's for the best. I know you can't see it now, but it is. You need to live your life, Stevie. Get that degree. Be someone."
"Eddie," Steve sobs. "Please. You have to know that I lo--"
"Don't," Eddie snarls. Doesn't mean to but can't hear those words, the three that will break him in two. "This is for the best, Steve. A clean break, yeah?"
"No." And Eddie hears Steve shuffling on the other end, like he's getting up. "I'm not letting you do this. I'm coming back, and we're doing this together. A lifetime, remember?"
Eddie's crying now, can't help it. "Please, don't. Steve, just--it's over, okay? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't do this anymore."
He hangs up the phone before Steve can argue, cries himself to sleep.
5 Years Later
Eddie never gets over Steve Harrington. His golden boy, the brave, perfect, kind, bratty man who has his whole heart.
Wayne is okay. Will never not have cancer, but he's doing good. And Eddie runs a record store in the town over. Visits some bars in Indy when he feels a certain kind of lonely. He's settled, finally, is the thing. He's settled and happy enough, so of course, that's when it happens.
He's at the grocery store, stopped in produce. There's a little girl, maybe 3 or 4--bright pink shirt, chestnut hair, little overalls--sitting in a cart by the tomatoes.
The sight of her sparks something in Eddie's chest, but he doesn't understand what or why, and then she's pointing at him, smiling and wiggling. "Daddy!" She shrieks.
That's when Steve Harrington swoops around the corner, reaching for the girl, his daughter, and Eddie takes a step away, ready to run from this.
The girls says, "That's the boy in all your pictures." She giggles and points at Eddie more. Steve blushes, and Eddie's assaulted by so many things all at once he thinks he may pass out.
"Stevie," he hears himself saying.
Steve freezes, looks at Eddie, so much knowing in those hazel eyes it makes him a little sick. But it still surprises him when Steve pulls him into a hug. Being in those arms again, It's like everything keeping him together falls apart. He sinks into the hold, breathes in deep, feels like home.
It shouldn't, though. Steve's got a kid. Probably a wife. Can't have his ex-boyfriend falling apart in his arms in the grocery store. Eddie disengages, steps back a little. Steve blinks, eyelashes fluttering, and Eddie is still so in love with him it hurts.
"I should--I should go," he mumbles, gripping at the back of his neck like it's a lifeline. The little girl giggles more, bouncing in her seat, and he's overcome with fondness. Can't help but give her an exaggerated bow as he goes.
He makes himself walk to the end of the aisle, but once he's left Steve behind, he runs.
That night, when a knock comes at his door, nothing prepares him for a sheepish Steve Harrington standing on the other side.
"Sorry to drop by unannounced," Steve says, manners still impeccable. "Wayne gave me your address. I'm glad--I'm glad he's doing okay, Eddie."
Eddie's too astonished to respond, nods for a few seconds before, "Th-thanks. Uhh, you wanna come in?"
Steve does and then they're in Eddie's little living room together and what the fuck is he supposed to do?
"Where's the kid?" he asks. He gestures Steve to the couch.
Steve smiles, a soft thing that's a knife to Eddie's heart. "Oh, I left her with Robin. They'll be fine for a few hours. Her name's Ellie, by the way. Ellie Jane Harrington."
"She knows who I am?" Eddie asks.
"Course. I told her about everyone. Showed her pictures. I hoped she could meet you one day."
"Yeah?" Eddie can't stand the thing that unfurls in his chest, blooming with love, so much care it aches in his teeth. "I swear next time I won't run away."
Steve laughs, hazel eyes fond in a way that Eddie can't look at for too long. "You didn't run away, Eds. It was a weird--reunion."
Eddie chuckles, pulls hair over his face. "A little bit. Not every day you run into your ex and his daughter scoping out tomatoes."
"I was hoping to give you a call, ask you out to dinner, or something. Not my kid recognizing you at Bradley's Big Buy."
"You wanna take me out to dinner, Stevie?" He asks before he can think better of it. Steve blushes red, and god Eddie missed him.
"Thought it might be nice, yeah. Get to know each other again."
It's Eddie turn to blush. "Why are you here?" He asks, good of a segue as any.
"Here, like, in your apartment, or here in Hawkins?"
"Both."
"I'm--uh--the new counselor at Hawkins High. Might coach the basketball team."
"But--Chicago," is all Eddie can say.
Steve laughs. "It was fun for a while, but--I don't know, man, it got hard with a kid. Joyce told me about the job opening and I decided to try."
"And Ellie's mom?" Eddie doesn't want to ask, can't stand not knowing.
Steve's eyes fall. "Ah," his hands squeeze into fists. "She's not in the picture. Never really was. After--" he takes a deep breath. "After we broke up, I sort of. Lost myself for awhile. Slept around. One night, I got this call saying that a baby had been surrendered at a fire station, my name listed as the father."
"Oh, sweetheart. I bet you didn't hesitate."
Steve stares at his hands, smiles. "Not for a second. I cried when I saw her, Eds. Just fucking sobbed. She was so beautiful. Then I had to figure out how to raise a kid and finish school."
"But you did it." Eddie can't hide that he's crying anymore.
Steve nods, is crying too.
"I'm really proud of you, sweetheart," Eddie whispers.
They look at each other, tear stained and sad but somehow so happy, and Steve leans forward, presses his mouth to Eddie's. He freezes, shocked to stillness, overwhelmed with the thing he never thought he'd have again.
Steve pulls back, face red and eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I got it in my head--" he stands, fumbling for his keys. "I should have never--you told me we were done and I know you meant it. But I saw you in the grocery store and I thought, you know, I'm never getting over him. I'm so stup--"
"Steve, wait" Eddie snaps out of it all at once, hurrying to where the man he's never stopped loving is shoving his feet inexpertly into his shoes.
"Don't leave," he says, almost whispering. "Please don't leave. Steve, I'm so, so sorry for how I ended things. I was so young and stupid, and--I didn't want you to lose your dreams for me."
Steve turns then, tears trickling down his cheeks. "You were my dream, Eds. You still are. I should have come back, made you let me stay. But I thought--maybe your feelings had changed. That you didn't--that you weren't--"
Eddie can't help it, pulls Steve into his arms. "I was. I am. You're all I've ever wanted." He presses his face to Steve's hair, breathes in deep. "I loved you then. I love you now. I've loved you every day in between."
"I love you," Steve sobs. "I love you so much."
They kiss, lips slotting together like they never stopped. It's salty with tears, but it's perfect. It's them.
Their mouths part, but they stay in each other's orbit; need the proximity after years apart.
"I have a kid now, Eddie," Steve says into the silence between them.
"Yeah," Eddie nods. "She's beautiful. Looks like her dad."
Steve smiles, flushes again. "She needs stability in her life, you know? She's my priority. Always will be. And if I--if this--"
Eddie knows. Understands his boy just as well now as he did back then. "We'll take it as slow as you need, baby. I want to be there for both of you. When you're ready. And until then, I'll be wherever you need me."
More tears escape Steve's eyes, but Eddie brushes them away. "We have a lifetime to figure it out."
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swanhaze · 1 year
Text
KISSES ON THE BEACH — conrad fisher x reader
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warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, pt2 of on the beach
the tweets from the birds fill the girls ears meaning that it was time for a new day, she didn’t want to get up just yet, not ready to face anyone, so she pulled the blanket over her face just for it to pulled off her a couple seconds later.
“wake up sweetheart.” the tone was sarcastic and she knew who it was immediately, couldn’t he just leave her alone? yn remembered everything from the party last night and she was embarrassed, embarrassed that she let herself get to that point, embarrassed that she basically exposed herself to the person that she loves, her best friends ex.
she groans reaching for the blanket only for him to hold it out of her reach, “conrad, give me like five minutes.” yn says getting up from the floor to get the blanket out his hands, a wave hits her and she now remembers how much alcohol she had last night, she could really go for Jeremiah’s smoothie’s right about now.
he shakes his head, balling up the blanket and holding it above his head and out of yn’s reach, “nope,you need to wake up.”
“I’m awake right now aren’t I?” she says tugging on his arm, “just give me five minutes, do you see how hung over I am right now?”
“and who’s fault is that?” he asks tauntingly, “we also need to talk.” his face now becoming serious.
yn finally tugs the blanket out of his hand and decides to fold the blanket, “talk about what?” she knows exactly what he’s talking about.
“you know what I’m talking about yn.” he sighs frustrated, “don’t even try to act like last night didn’t happen.” he starts his eyes not leaving her, “you said a lot and did a lot, and we need to talk about this because it doesn’t just affect you, it affects me as well.”
she just shakes her head walking over to the corner of the room to put down the blanket, she didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t want to be put in another vulnerable situation.
“can you go back to being a jerk who doesn’t know how to communic-?”
“yn!” the familiar voice cuts yn off and she stands rigid, she looks at conrad in shock, “laurel is here?” she whisper shouts at him.
“belly called her.” he shrugs scratching the back of his neck, remembering the reason why he woke up yn in the first place.
“of course she did.” yn whispers to herself, can this whole summer get any worse?
“conrad I told you to wake her up to help clean, what’s taking so long?” the voice shouts up the stairs again.
yn smiles realizing this is an opportunity to avoid having a certain conversation with conrad, “I guess duty calls.” yn shrugs, brushing past the taller boy.
“yn-” he tries to call out but she’s already out the room.
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taylor held her bag over her shoulder as she set her sharp gaze on yn, who leaned against one of the walls, “what?” she whispered to the blonde.
“I think you should talk to belly.” taylor said straightforwardly raising her hands when yn opens her mouth to protest, “I’ll be leaving and you won’t have me to stick beside the whole time.” she saying pointing down the stairs.
“I don’t understand why I have to talk to her.” yn shrugs, “I’ve been fine this whole year.”
“yn I heard about last night.” taylor sighs, “as someone who actually goes to therapy, this isn’t healthy at all, I understand you and that’s why I took your side.” she lets out a deep sigh, “but I miss when we were a trio I miss having both of by best friends.”
“Taylor just because you miss our friend group doesn’t mean I have to forgive and forget things with belly, she hurt me, she betrayed me, I trusted her the most when it came to my feelings for him.” yn says angrily.
“I understand that yn, but I just want you to talk to her, you don’t have to be besties, but please talk to her, for me?” Taylor says clasping her hands together.
yn rolls her eyes as her friend gives her puppy dog eyes, “I’ll think about it…”
“yes!”
“don’t get to excited let’s get you to the door and out of my sight.”
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“this is so disgusting.” yn says to herself as she looks out the window only to witness steven kissing taylor, she hears a familiar laugh and a presence beside her, “tell me about it.” she turns only to come face to face with belly.
out of instinct yn face falls and she gets ready to turn around and walk away from the window but then she remembers taylor’s words, “belly?” she says quietly.
“hum.” the brunette hums turning to face yn.
“we need to talk.”
“we do.” belly says playing with her hands, “you go first.”
“okay..” yn trails off preparing herself for some vulnerability, something she’s not a fan of, “belly you were my best friend, you are my best friend.” she starts, “you knew how much of a crush I had on conrad , I told you everything I knew about him and all my feelings for him, just for me to see you guys kissing on the beach.” yn says tearfully, “I honestly just want to know why? why did you do that to me.”
belly’s gaze stills for a couple of moments before and nods and takes a deep breath, “I-I loved him yn.” she starts,cringing when you roll your eyes, “I loved him as long as you have but before I got a chance to tell you, you already told me about your feelings for him and I knew just from then that my chances with him was slim to none, you’re so pretty and smart and make the best decisions that I knew conrad had to like you back.” belly says inching closer to you.
“and he did, he does.” belly said wiping a year from her eye, “and before I say this promise me yn you won’t be more mad then you already are.”
“I can’t promise that.” yn says shaking her head, she doesn’t know what belly is about to say but she knows it’s gonna be bad just by the look on her face.
“yn, promise me.”
yn reluctantly nodded, knowing to well that she doesn’t mean it, “I promise.”
“okay..” belly starts again, “I decided during to spring before the summer of last year, to call conrad and check in.” yn raised her brow at this, “he didn’t say much, he didn’t seem in the mood which is understandable now, but he did mention that he was excited to see you.”
yn tries her best to fight down the smile and tries to make its way to her face at the last sentence as nods for belly go continue.
“and that hurt me so much, because I knew that, that summer was gonna be different for me and for you, there was this feeling in my chest that told me that you and conrad were gonna end up together but I didn’t want that.” belly says more tears running down her face, “so I told conrad that you were excited for come to the beach house as well cause this would be the summer that you would confess your feelings to jeremiah.”
yn feels like her chest is heavy, she can’t breathe, “what?”
“I’m so sorry yn.” belly cries taking both of your hands in hers, your to shock to even pull away, “I just loved him so much that I became selfish and it got in the way of both yours and his happiness.”
“belly..” yn says trying to fight back her tears, “why? why did you do that?”
“I’m sorry.” belly cries, “please yn I love you so much you’re my best friend and I hate myself for what I did to you and how I’ve been acting, this is just all so fucked .”
“belly..” yn starts, “I don’t think I can forgive you, you’re right this is all so fucked up.”
“I know and I don’t blame you, and I don’t know what to do.” belly sniffs as she wipes her tears, “but I can do this, please talk to conrad yn, he is so in love with you, he’s head over heals in love with you, all he thinks about is you even when we were dating, he was so worried about you because of how distant you had been.” belly says rushingly.
“I don’t know…”
“do you know what susannah had said to me when we visited her before she did?” belly asks and you shake your head, “she said tell yn to take care of my older boy.”
this is what makes yn cry, tears rush to her eyes and all she can do is lean into belly, “she knew that you and conrad were meant to be, I know that you and conrad are meant to be, but I was to selfish to admit it to myself, so please yn please talk to him and be happy I want you to be happy.” belly says wrapping her arms around yn.
“you’re the sister that I never had and I can’t believe I let a boy get between us, so talk to him yn.” belly says unwrapping her arms from yn, “just know that I love you no matter what, I don’t care if you hate me and never want to talk to me again, I will always be here.”
all yn can do is nod.
“so talk to him yn, I think he’s on the beach.” and with that belly is gone up the stairs.
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the ocean breeze hits yn as she walks through the sand and towards the older boy who sits in front of the water, she’s gonna talk to him, she’s gonna put her heart on the line.
she lets out a deep sigh as she takes a seat beside him on the sand, “what a morning huh?”
he looks shocked to see her, “yeah…” he nods, “uh, yn I know you don’t want to but we need to tal-”
“I know.” she cuts him off, “I’ve been doing a lot of that this morning.” she laughs to herself as he looks at her confused.
yn takes a deep breath before turning her gaze to his face, “conrad I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you practically my whole life.”
warmth comes to his cheeks as he nods urging her to continue.
“you dating belly hurt me a lot, because a little piece of me thought you liked me, but you ended up liking my best friend who also knew that I liked you.” yn says as she looks down at the sand, playing with it slightly.
“yn I didn’t kno-”
“I know con.” she says looking back up at him, “I know.”
conrad stands up holding his hand out to you to pull you up, as you take his hand your eyes never leave each other.
“yn I’ve been in love with you for a while.” he starts, “and when belly told me that you liked jeremiah, that hurt like crazy, cause just like you I thought you liked me but it turned out you liked my brother.” he says grabbing your hands. “belly comforted me about it and I thought maybe this will help me get over you but it didn’t.”
“because I’m so in love with you yn it’s unbelievable, words can’t even explain how much I love you.” he rambles pulling you closer to him by the loops of your shorts.
you smile feeling heat climb up your neck, “ I knew you were obsessed with me deep down.” you joke.
he laughs shaking his head at your joke, “so what do we do now?” you ask.
“yn you have my heart.” he starts, “so please don’t break it.”
a smile makes it way to your face, “I won’t.” you whisper.before you pull him down by the strings of his sweater, pressing your lip’s gently onto his.
you feel him smile as he grabs both sides of her face, deepening the kiss.
he pulls away for a second, “don’t break it I mean it.” he says before pulling you back into a kiss again.
you won’t, you’re gonna take care of his just as much as he will take care of yours.
taglist: @bakugou-luva @elcpsstuff @spencerstits @chocolatefartstrawberry @vict688 @amysangel @junnnileee07 @tvije @fearlessmoony @starkeylover @wishyouwere-sober @sublimepenguinpeach-blog
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missycolorful · 7 months
Text
q!Phil's instinct to isolate will always be his undoing, and the Ender King knows and is trying to use that to his advantage.
That seemed pretty clear when q!Fit told Philza that Tallulah mentioned "someone that protected them." Never a name, just that. And yet, immediately, Philza went to find Tallulah and confront her. His attitude, his everything, changed drastically. It's as if Ender had pulled a bit harder at those puppet strings he has on Philza when he realized someone might figure out what's going on. Ender doesn't want anyone clueing in on what's going on. And why would he let himself slip like that, why would he get so - dare I say - desperate, if it weren't for the fact that he's afraid? He's afraid of Phil's loved ones finding out and them helping Philza defeat him.
Phil being confronted by his loved ones made him see what had become of him because of Ender. He was able to push back against the pull of the Ender King, a motherfucking deity who has been getting stronger and stronger bit by bit, because his children have helped ground him a bit more in reality, and are helping him realize that he's in danger (as well as tragically, in some sense, he's the danger).
And the impact his family has is noticeable. Despite everything, after getting rid of the backpack, Phil seemed to snap out of it a bit. He spoke with a lot more clarity on what was happening to him. His demeanor had quieted and calmed, a lot more like his old self, when he returned to his kids. And he sought to fix what he had done, to ensure he never hurts his kids again. It all worked, but only because he had his loved ones help him along the way.
Which is I, like many others, think that q!Phil's decision to leave and exile himself until Friday, while an understandable decision on such an emotional day, actually isn't going to benefit him like he thinks it will. He's going to be all alone, with only a crow in a cage to keep him company. And, certainly, Ender will be there, too, ready claw into his mind now that he's vulnerable again. Whether this exile doesn't fix anything at all or even makes things worse, it's hard to say for certain.
All that we can say is, with all this in mind, it makes you realize: the Ender King can be vanquished, even in this state. He wouldn't be so vocal, letting himself become so noticeable, if that weren't the case. The support of his friends and family are what pull Phil out of the void, guide him toward the realization that this is wrong, i need to fix this. Phil just needs to let them help. Because that love, so far, has been powerful enough to overwhelm Ender's control on him. And I don't know if that'll be enough if things get worse, but who knows on this island?
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lqveharrington · 5 months
Text
Hidden Hatred | V.
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summary: You’re a new Overlord and meet Vox for the first time. Who knew what that first interaction would do for the both of you down the line.
pairing: Vox x witch Overlord!reader
includes: name calling, mentions of murder, technically enemies to lovers, Vox being whipped by you, jealously, suggestiveness, teasing, fluff, angst if you squint, (let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: 1st request for Vox done! Also, tell me why I love giving them powers like wanda? it’s so cool tho
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When you became an Overlord, you quickly recognized all the other Overlords at meetings, matching their personality to name. For example, Alastor’s voice effects gave the illusion of a radio, hence Radio Demon. Or Carmilla and her pointe shoes made of angelic steel. However, there were some Overlords who never attended the meetings, sending in one of the associates in place. The Vees being the only Overlords to do so, typically sending the youngest to attend the meetings. In doing this, you never met the others, refusing to associate online presence with their real self.
So when Vox came in place for Velvette for one of the Overlord meetings, you were slightly confused.
“Vox, how lovely for you to join us this afternoon.” Carmilla gestured toward the Television Demon across the table, her stare sharp when he tapped away on his phone.
“Uh-huh, can we make this quick? I have a company to run.” He threw her a bored look and scanned the rest of the room, noticing a new face. “Who the hell is this bitch?”
Your face jumps in surprise at his words before giving him a small smile. “It’s—“
“You know what? I don’t give a shit.” Vox glanced back at his phone. “Please, continue Carmilla.”
You huff, conjuring up red wisps from your fingertips to mess with while the meeting continues. You thought dealing with Velvette when you first met was a pain, but Vox was ten times worse than she was, and you just met! He seemed interesting, and you never expected a demon Overlord to have a television for a head, but his disinterest in you put you in a sour mood. You genuinely wanted to understand how he was an Overlord, but it seemed impossible with his nature.
“Now dear, let’s not think of murderous thoughts.” Alastor hummed in your direction when he saw you send a death glare toward the Television Demon as you left the meeting room, to which you only received an eye roll back. “Only I can have an enemy like him.”
“Al, during our short break he told me to fuck off and shoved his finger in my face!” You seeth as your eyes glow red with more wisps emitting from your fingers. “I’m going to murder him.”
Alastor caught your arm, “You will not do such things to an Overlord. If he appears at the next meeting and continues to act rude toward one of our gracious ladies, please tell me.”
“Of course, Al.” You snap your fingers, creating a portal to your Overlord territory. “I’ll see you in a month.”
Although you weren’t going to see all the Overlords in one place for a month, that didn’t mean a certain Television Demon consumed your thoughts because of your behavior toward one another during one meeting. It seemed as if every piece of technology reminded you of him, causing some unwanted thoughts to form during wanting times.
Much like you, Vox’s thoughts were filled to the brim of you. How has he never met you? How has Velvette never mentioned a new Overlord in Pentagram City? Oh, he wanted to know more about you. It was only a matter of time before he realized he was entirely whipped by your presence.
“What’s up your ass?” Velvette stepped inside the elevator with Vox as he messed with his suit for the nth time. She already had a suspicion something was up when he decided to tag along for the meeting, but he was acting nervous for a group of people he disrespected. How the fuck does that even work? “Vox.”
“What?” He whipped his head over to his shorter associate as the elevator door dinged.
She gave him an unimpressed look, “What’s going on in your system? You look like you’re going to reboot any second now.”
“Do I?” He reached up to touch his screen, pulling out his phone for vitals.
Velvette furrowed her brows at his reaction when they walked into the meeting room, a couple of other Overlords mingling amongst themselves. “Okay, what’s the fucking problem? Is there someone you—“
“Vox and Velvette.” Carmilla took her slow strides into the room, quickly diminishing the added noise. “To what do we owe the pleasure of two out of the three Vees?”
“This fuck wanted to join me for no reason.” Velvette jabbed her thumb in Vox’s direction, earning a snort from you. All heads turned as you covered your mouth, letting a quick apology fall from your lips.
Carmilla raised a brow, “Thank you… We’ll start off with the…”
Her voice soon became white noise to Vox as he took his seat, glancing up at you every few seconds. God, he hated the way you would quietly speak with Alastor or how you made eye contact with him just to break it with a glare. He hated the way you always dressed to your heart's content and how you failed to respond to Carmilla when asked a question. He hated how he failed to actually hate you.
“Vox, you’re wrecking Carmilla’s table,” Velvette murmured in his direction as Vox’s claws dug deeper into the table’s top.
He looked down at the table, pulling his claws out. He was too focused on your quiet laughter with Alastor to notice the damage. As your quiet laughter subsided, you made eye contact with Vox again before glancing down at the claw marks, and raising a brow at the television.
‘It’s boring.’ Vox mouthed toward you.
You pursed your lips at him, not understanding the game he was playing. ‘Of course it is, it always is.’
Vox rolled his eyes in a joking manner, shooting his attention back to the Overlord in front of the table. You, on the other hand, shot a quizzical look toward him. Sure, your dead heart sped up a bit, and you felt your face warm, but it was only an exchange of two sentences. You felt the red wisps emit from your fingertips again from confusion, pulling at the soft fog created by the magic.
“My dear, what’s gotten you all out of sorts?” Alastor caught up with you when the meeting adjourned with a sharpened grin, noticing your encounter with the Television Demon.
“What do you mean?” You glance back at Vox who offered you a small smirk. Waving him off, you let a small smile slip through.
“That, my dear!” He squinted his eyes toward the television. “Don’t fraternize yourself with him, he’s involved in too much trouble.”
You tilt your head back to Alastor, “We’re in Hell, I can’t think of any reason why anyone would not be in trouble.”
“What I mean to say is don’t get too comfortable with that… thing. It’s not ideal.” His ears fell flat as you paid zero attention to him.
“I won’t. Plus, I’m sure he got bored and bothered the first person he saw. After all, he did tell me to fuck off during the last meeting.” You tuck your arms behind your back. “Don’t worry so much about me, Al. I can handle myself just fine.”
“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about the man you’re associating yourself with.” He patted your head. “Until next time, my dear.”
You watch as he slips away with his shadows, rolling your eyes at his antics. It was highly unlikely that you would start a friendship with Vox, considering the people he lives with. Alastor had nothing to worry about, it was just a moment of boredom consuming the both of you.
At least, that’s what you told yourselves. Satan knows that the first interaction was uncalled for, but it wasn’t Vox’s fault. No, he blamed himself for the image he had to uphold and being struck by a new Overlord’s looks. But as time passed, along with meetings, the urge to see each other became stronger, resulting in meetings outside of the Carmine building.
Literally.
“Doll, you take way too long to get here.” Vox pulled you toward him by your hand, linking them together.
“Aw, I’m sorry. Were you too scared to be here all on your own? Too afraid there are no bodyguards to protect you?” You tease with a wide grin. You watch as he rolls his eyes at you, tugging you closer. You laugh while patting his chest, “I had to deal with an incompetent sinner. I know you wanted to spend more time together before the meeting.”
“You have to make it up to me now.” He smiled down at you, eyes filled with admiration.
You hum, your own eyes gleaming in such a lovesick look. “Like what, Mister Vox? How should I make it up to you?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He tilted your head further up, the electricity over his hat reflecting his fast heartbeat. “What do you think?”
“I think…” You flit your gaze to his lips before moving them back up to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t be in debt to you.”
“Is that so, doll?” He squints as he tightens his hold on you. “I think I’m deserving of something at least.”
“Mm, no.” You squeeze his hand. He gives you a playful look before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You grin before reciprocating, using your free hand to hold his shoulder. The both of you separate, eyes fluttering open with soft smiles. “Must you defy me, handsome?”
“Only when I want to.” He whispered against your lips as he pressed more kisses on your lips. You giggle as you let your red wisps emit from your fingers, watching as your wisps pull him away from you. “Doll…”
“Mm?” You stay still as he continues to get pulled away by your powers.
“What are you doing?”
You flick your wrist, the wisps disappearing. “Nothing, you’re the one moving away from me.” Vox grabs at your waist, pulling you flush against him. You squeal as he peppers kisses across your face, “Vox, we could be seen.”
“Who’s going to come down this alleyway?” He left one last kiss on your lips, smiling as a fool would.
“The other Overlords who are going to attend the meeting.” You push his screen away as you catch the time on your watch. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know?”
“Yeah, but they should know you’re taken.” He squeezed your waist.
“You want them to think we hate fuck each other?” You grab his wrists as they sway you around. “You know they still think we hate each other right?”
“Who said we don’t?” He bared his teeth to you, earning an eye roll. “You can’t tell me you don’t like it—“
“Shut up.” You sucker punch his shoulder. “The Tech Overlord dating the Witch Overlord? Never.”
“Never.” He linked your hands again, leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. “I despise you.”
“Horrible thought.” You pull him along out of the alley, separating as soon as you see Alastor appear out of the shadows. You watched the Radio Demon send you a sharpened grin, which you returned with a small smile.
Although you kept your relationship a secret from the likes of sinners and Overlords, both the Technology Overlord and Witch Overlord knew what they were to each other, even if that meant it was kept hidden.
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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matan4il · 6 months
Text
Daily update post:
Israel has been preparing for the possibility of a direct strike from Iran. To that end, the IDF has been initiating GPS jamming, first in the south, and now in central Israel as well. On a personal note, I had to calm my mom down today (I could do this thanks to having heard about it on the news already), because it's a scary thing for people, and they don't know what to think, when they open Waze and find themselves "appearing" in enemy territory. Iran's attack options might also include drone attacks, or anti-Jewish terrorist attacks around the world. We've heard about Esther and Mordechai's Tomb being attacked tonight in Iran itself.
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Speaking of the country that's the biggest funder of terrorism globally, tomorrow it's "Al-Quds Day" (Jerusalem Day) in Iran. It was established in 1979, after the Islamist revolution, as an antisemitic political measure, meant to help radicalize people against the Jewish state. Officially, it's a protest of Israel's sovereignity in Jerusalem, the city which has been the capital of the Jewish people, the place we pray to, for over 3,000 years, longer than Islam has existed. Some people worry that Iran will use this date specifically to strike against Israel or other Jewish targets around the world.
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With or without connection, the chief of Israel's army intelligence is quoted as saying in private conversations, "I have told you time and time again that it is not certain that the worst is behind us and we are ahead of complex days."
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Back in February, we heard that the niece of Hamas' overall leader, Ismail Haniyeh, gave birth in an Israeli hospital, and her baby, which was born prematurely, was treated in an Israeli hospital's NICU, the same hospital that had to have millions of shekels spent on, in order to make parts of it safe during Hamas' rocket attacks. While at it, we were reminded that several of Haniyeh's sisters live in Israel after marrying Israeli Bedouins, and that a few more of his relatives were allowed from Gaza into Israel for medical treatment. Just a small reminder that Haniyeh's personal wealth is estimated to be somewhere between 4 to 5 billion dollars (Taylor Swift's is only a little over 1 billion dollars), and if he wanted to, he could have flown his entire family out of there, to join him in Qatar, with the best facilities and care, rather than get medical care at a hospital subsidized by the "genocidal Zionist enemy."
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Now we get the news that one of Haniyeh's sisters, a 57 years old woman, has been arrested for helping Hamas, including support for the Oct 7 massacre.
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This is 34 years old Lidor Levi.
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He was critically injured in the Palestinian terrorist attack in Gan Yavne. He was in a hospital, fighting for his life for 4 days. Today we got the news that he succumbed to his wounds. He leaves a pregnant wife and a daughter behind. May his memory be a blessing.
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I will never understand how the accidental killing of 7 civilians in Gaza is making more headlines, and causes more rage, than the on going and intentional killing of so many Israeli civilians targeted in terrorist attacks along this entire war. I can't remember the world even addressing it, let alone raging about how unacceptable these killings are, and how they're proof that Palestinian terrorist organizations must be stopped. For that matter, I haven't come across anywhere as many headlines and world leaders' statements about an intentional drone attack that killed several rescue workers in Kharkiv, where a residential area was targeted. The hyperfocus on the one conflict where Jews can be demonized, is also leaving a lot less attention for, practical aid, and just general caring about other conflicts, which are in many ways far worse (just look at Tigray alone on the below map). It's harmful to so many more people than we come close to realizing.
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(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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mouwrites · 8 months
Note
Hi, I was wonder if I can make a request for a oneshot idea on security breach.
I was an idea of reader being an animatronic kind of like mangle on how they were a pull apart and put back together toy for young children, with their attraction being near the daycare.
Name ideas could be like "{reader}'s Friends and Play!", or {reader}'s dress up station". Something with a play on words with dressing up or play.
Because they are like one of those take apart and put back together toys were you could swap certain parts of the toy like hair, clothes, accessories, etc. And kids would come to the readers play area of have fun changing the design of the reader. It being marked twords younger kid key it being by the Daycare.
But we all know kid could be a little to forceful or rough with reader, leading them to break and having to go to part and serves/maintenance almost everyday to get fixed.
But since it cost money and time to fix reader, the Pizzaplex just desided it would be better to just discontinue reader and close off there area under the pretense of repairs. But reader area never opened back up. And like the Glamrock + the Daycare Attendant just gradually forgot about reader.
Than one day one of them just stumbled apon readers area and it just like closed off, with the inside being really dusty with tarp covering everything. Everything but reader who's slouched in a corner, broken looking like mangle with different part of her body making up her body in placed they shouldn't be.
It just feel like it would be hella angsty and a good oneshot for some angst and burn.
Get back to me as soon as you can, thank you for reading this^^
So sorry for the wait!! But this was a really cool idea, and I had some fun with it! :D
Word count: 1k
Security Breach - Forgotten Attraction (Glamrock Bonnie x forgotten animatronic reader)
It had been dark for a while now.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d actually heard it, but sometimes you thought you could hear the ghosts of laughter drifting among the dust particles in the air. They danced like mice in front of you, putting you in a trance.
Laughter and children, colors and candy. Sticky fingers that tugged and pulled at your parts, replacing them constantly. The children never could agree on what you should look like, but you always found their squabbles adorable.
“Now, now, children. I do have two arm sockets, you know. Why don’t we do one of each?”
The grins you’d get when you spoke to them warmed you enough that you forgot about the pain.
Ah, yes, the pain. You were built to be dismantled and customized, but it was painful. So painful. At first you had tried to scream and cry when the interns tested your mechanics, but it wasn’t in your programming. All you could do was stare. Eventually you learned to smile through it.
Even now, hunched over, not quite sure what you even looked like, you felt the pain. One of your joints was only halfway attached. Your leg socket ached with that empty feeling you got when you were missing an appendage. You weren’t smiling now.
The faded colors of your home were nearly gray with the thick coat of dust. The dust reminded you of the repair chamber; you had spent so many hours there. You would’ve considered that your second home, were it not for the horrible pain you always felt when you went there. It was even worse than the vague constant aches you always seemed to have. Whenever those aches turned into stabbing pains, or when your insides started to feel funny, it was straight to the repair chamber with you.
They never told you what was wrong. You heard them muttering behind the glass, but they were never loud enough for you to understand. All you knew was that they sounded quite frustrated during your last visit. How long ago was that?
You stared at a pink bin across the room. Well, it used to be pink. All the colors used to be so vibrant, bringing a real smile to your face. The children would dress up to match you, galloping around the room in bright pirate costumes and princess dresses of every hue. There was no color now.
You blinked slowly. Every movement was a labor these days. It’d been a while since you’d been in your charging station. You used to wonder when someone was going to come help you get inside, but you had long forgotten that hope. Now all you wanted was for those ghosts of children’s voices to be real. Just once more…
You blinked again. Your eyes didn’t open for a long time.
“Y/n. I remember them.”
One eye opened. The other didn’t.
“It’s so dusty in here…”
You saw a stripe of light on the floor. Raising your gaze, your eye flashed as it adjusted to the bright light coming from the door. The door. It was open!
“H-h-h-” you tried to give your classic greeting. When all that came out was a glitching hiss, you felt your brows lower sadly. You refused to give up. This was your chance to make one more kid smile.
“H-h-h—hi—”
“Hi there!” Someone mimicked, matching the exact tone you always used. “Y/n, is that you?”
Your eye finally adjusted to the light. It was Bonnie. Not a kid. Your disappointment wore off as he jogged to your side, hopping over parts strewn all over the floor.
You knew Bonnie. The memory felt sluggish coming up, but you remembered him. He was the one with the bowling alley. Kids always told you about the milkshakes they served at his parlor, too.
“Y/n! Can you hear me?”
“H-h-h.” It was all you could manage.
Bonnie looked at his fingers after shaking your shoulder. “Aw, geez, when was the last time you got charged? Come on, let me help you.”
Your one good eye was jostled shut as you were lifted off the ground, and you saw no more, but you felt strong arms holding you, their warmth almost numbing the pain.
You suddenly felt a rush, and your body started to gain back the feeling you didn’t know you lost. Bonnie talked loudly so you could hear him in the charging chamber.
“I had completely forgotten about this place… I mean, it closed a long time ago.”
“How long..?” You rasped, gaining some energy.
“I wish I could tell you. I have no idea,” he chuckled, bringing an automatic smile to your face.
Bonnie’s ears perked up; you could see him staring through the chamber’s little window. “Hey, there’s that smile! Ah, I didn’t even realize how much I missed it, haha!”
His laughter was bringing that old warmth back into you. Or maybe it was the charger.
Bonnie looked around your room. It was trashed; you had the energy to realize that now. He seemed to notice it, too. Well, he was noticing something. His face was falling; quite uncharacteristic for him, at least from what you knew.
“They were talking about closing down my place, too, you know. I heard them.”
You blinked. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t say anything. He was still staring at the dusty mess that used to be your paradise.
“Is this what will happen to my alley?”
You leaned forward to get a better look around. He glanced at you, and though neither of you were programmed to show negative emotions, you could see sadness and fear in his eyes.
“I don’t know.” You put a hand up to the glass, ignoring the pain. Bonnie stared for a moment, eventually bringing his own hand up to meet yours.
“Whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.” Perhaps it was a little cruel, but you were glad to have someone to share your misery with.
And Bonnie laughed again. It was a sad, exhausted, barely audible chuckle, but you managed a smile in response.
You couldn’t have the children, the colors, the laughter, the old life you once had. But you were given a blessing; the only thing you could ask for in your fallen glory. A friend.
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Thank you for this request! And thank you for reading, take care honey bunches <33
(divider by saradika)
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hard-core-super-star · 7 months
Text
caught myself [K.Bishop]
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pairing: kate bishop x reader
summary: kate's competitiveness gets in the way of her seeing you for who you truly are.
warnings: technically none?; idiots in love; kate technically does knock R on their ass but no one gets hurt; yelena being an awful wingman; kate's sad puppy dog eyes; me feeling rusty af after writing so many serious essays
wordcount: 1.6k
a/n: me writing something else instead of focusing on the large pile of requests i still haven't gotten to? yeah, it's more likely than you think. i'll try to get into a somewhat normal posting schedule at some point if uni ever stops kicking my butt BUT FOR NOW, enjoy what was supposed to be a valentine's day special. also, don't worry, kissing in the crossfire part two WILL be happening!
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You’re not sure what’s worse, being the newest member of the Young Avengers or being the member with the most obvious crush possible. It’s like the universe didn’t think you had enough difficulties getting used to life with your new team, it also thought you needed to juggle having the biggest crush on one of your teammates simultaneously.
Because fighting criminals daily isn’t hard enough, right?
You had tried your hardest to keep your massive crush on a certain purple-loving archer a secret but your plan had gone out the window the second Yelena figured out the hidden feelings behind your lingering stares. To say she didn’t understand your fascination with Kate Bishop would be an understatement but at least she tried to help…in her own, weirdly aggressive, way.
Her help mainly included making ridiculous comments at your expense. Comments that went completely over Kate’s head every single time and only led to awkward silences and unanswerable questions.
You thought the Russian was on her way to giving up and letting you handle your love life problems on your own but of course, when has Yelena given up an opportunity to embarrass someone she cares about?
It’s exactly Yelena’s love of embarrassing you that’s forced you into a situation you wouldn’t be able to get out of if you tried: sparring with the purple archer herself.
Training in the same room as Kate is already bad enough, especially considering her habit of wearing gray sweatpants and a tight purple cropped shirt, but having to spar with her? While she looks that good? And she has that stupid smirk on her face because she knows she’s going to win?
Nothing you could do could stop you from looking like a goddamn fool.
And that’s exactly what you look like right now.
It’s not bad enough that you can’t concentrate enough to anticipate her punches, you also don’t even know where to look because all of her is so damn attractive. It’s impressive and annoying all at the same time and it’s unfortunately taking up too much of your brain space right now.
You’re acutely aware of Yelena’s disapproving looks but you’re even more aware of the constant glares Kate throws in between rapid punches. Your brain may not be working well enough for you to spar correctly but if there’s one thing you can do, it’s dodge…which only infuriates the archer.
“Will you quit moving?” She huffs, only barely stopping her lips from forming a frustrated pout.
“What else am I supposed to do? Let you punch me?” You reply.
“That’d be a good start, yeah.”
“Ladies, quit chattering!”
You know Yelena is being annoying on purpose to get on your nerves but that doesn’t stop you from turning to glare at her. Your mouth barely begins to form around the complaints you want to hurl at her when Kate takes her opportunity.
It’s technically cheating, and it’s incredibly advantageous, but she’s not thinking about any of that. All she wants is to win and she doesn’t think twice. She swipes her leg under both of yours, catching you by surprise and instantly sending you crashing down onto the hard ground.
You don’t get a second to react before the back of your head makes contact with the floor. Large black spots fill your vision as Yelena starts throwing out curses at the startled archer. You barely make out the outline of Kate’s worried face before your eyes slip shut and darkness overcomes you.
You don’t know how much time goes by, or how many times Kate gets scolded in increasingly more aggressive Russian, all you know is that when you wake up…you’re not alone.
Your first instinct when your eyes open again is to sit up but a gentle hand pushes you back down before you get too far. “Don’t try to move, you’re gonna get a killer headache. Trust me.”
“Oh, I’m supposed to trust you after you knocked me on my ass?” You huff. It makes you sound more like a kid throwing a tantrum than an angry Avenger but you don’t really care.
“We were sparring, what else was I supposed to do?”
You don't notice the small grin that accompanies her recycled words, too upset and embarrassed about getting your ass handed to you by someone who's too lost in her own world to notice how much you like her.
“What else was I supposed to do?” You mock her. “Did you try not being a jerk?”
“That’s not fair. You’re the one who ignores me all the time but I’m the jerk here?”
Her words don’t catch you as off guard as the look on her face. You’re expecting to see flashes of the arrogant archer most of your teammates claim exists behind the usual warmth Kate so easily radiates. Instead of anger or arrogance, though, you come face to face with the most overdramatic pout you’ve ever seen.
And you suddenly understand why people say there’s a fine line between love and hate. Because it would be easy to think Kate Bishop is the most annoying person in the world if you didn’t also think she’s the most adorable person you’ve ever met…despite the constant ease with which she turns everything into an argument.
“What are you even talking about?”
“You don’t like me! And you don’t even try to hide it!”
All you can do is stare at her and wonder how the world’s greatest archer also happens to be the world’s most oblivious person. “You’re an idiot, Katherine.”
Her eyebrows crinkle in disgust but you’re pretty sure it has more to do with your use of her legal first name than the insult you push her way. “You sound like my mom.”
“You’re not helping your case.”
She opens her mouth to reply in an instant, a half-formed stupid sentence already forming on the tip of her tongue. You’re expecting yet another unnecessary argument to break out. Yet another reason for you to give up on all your attempts to build a bridge of thoughtful actions and sweet words that will lead you to who Kate truly is under the mask she so effortlessly wears around everyone else.
You’ve learned to expect anything from Kate Bishop. Especially the unexpected.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She adds the tiniest smile and most awkward shrug you’ve ever seen to her soft-spoken apology.
“What did you just say?” You ask, wondering if you hit your head hard enough to be imagining this whole interaction.
“You heard me,” she replies but her tone carries more traces of embarrassment than the cockiness you’re used to. “You’re right, I’m an idiot.”
You’re left dumbstruck, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There’s no way the archer can say those words without some sort of snarky comment coming after it. So you wait. Watching her with curious eyes that only fuel the nervousness bubbling underneath her carefree posture.
It’s strange to realize how little you genuinely know about her. Having a crush on her has ironically been the easiest part of everything. Sure, it’s awkward and annoying and ridiculous but believing you understand her is easier than accepting the fact that Kate’s never let you in.
So why would she start now?
“Are you going to say something?” The subtle crack in her voice reveals the truth she’s trying to hide behind her usual smirk.
There are so many things you want to say but you’re still a little lightheaded and the sudden change in her attitude toward you isn’t helping you keep yourself in check. “I like your smile.”
“Oh.”
You could easily dismiss her reaction as indifferent if it weren’t for the pink hue emerging across her cheeks. It’s subtle and warm and…real. Like her. And it suddenly dawns on you that you’ve never seen Kate Bishop flustered before.
Especially not from one of your compliments. It’s different…and you really like it.
“Can I ask you something, Kate?”
She looks away from you for a second, almost as if she’s scared of what you might say. Of the possibilities that lie in your unspoken feelings. “Sure, yeah, go ahead.”
Your mouth begins to form one of the many questions you’ve wanted to ask the archer since you met her but then her eyes find yours again and you get a glimpse into the fear-filled storm inside their depths.
It’s subtle but the armor made from cocky grins and imperfectly timed jokes begins to crack.
Which means there’s no way you’re going to spring such a loaded question on her just yet. As much as you’d love an answer to the one thing that’s been haunting you since you realized your true feelings for her, there’s no way you’d force her when it’s clear it’s been far too long since she’s let herself be vulnerable around someone.
So, you settle for the only thing you need right now: her.
“Can you stay with me?” You do your best to ignore the warmth that spreads along your face as the words slip out of your mouth. “Yelena doesn’t have the best bedside manner.”
A beat of silence goes by before her lips form a genuine smile. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Her eyes nervously flick around the room in search of somewhere to sit. You watch her for a few seconds before putting her out of her anxious misery.
“Kate…” You trail off, doing your best to hold in your laughter as you pat the empty space beside you. “You can sit here, I won’t bite.”
Your words are all it takes for her nervousness to turn back into her usual goofiness. “Really? That’s not what I’ve heard…”
“So you do talk shit about me!”
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