#It's the vulnerability/distaste/confidence of it all! He's grown up so much it's all right there in how he holds himself
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“Nothing More” Ben Solo x f!Reader
(A/N: Requested by @mykyloren-addiction. Thank you for the request!
So….including fluff was not specified and I went all out Star Wars brain. Also I tweaked it a little. More avoidance. Ben Solo is back and wants to reconcile with an old friend, Reader, but is Reader willing to even look at him?
Warnings: Angst.
Word Count: 2,870 words)
The roaring podracing engine rumbled loudly next door between the joined chatter of travelers. Sitting outside of Docking Bay 7 was never too quiet. Yet it was a doable tradeoff from your racing and invasive thoughts. You needed a few moments to rest your feet and not actively having to check over your shoulder for a patrolling stormtrooper. An old structure wall of sorts shielded your back and one side. Strong meaty scents came upon a breeze from the neighboring Ronto Roasters. It was a place to get away without completely leaving.
Black Spire Outpost had a little bit and a lot of everything. Busy storefronts, unique travelers, varying landscapes, and all sorts of possibilities. That was one reason the Resistance made camp on Batuu. Another reason was to rebuild the Resistance while the First Order was extremely close by. It was unnerving, however not the most surprising.
A little over a week ago, you had returned to camp one day to the buzzing of information revolving around Ben Solo and Rey. It was shocking when you stayed to hear more. Ben found Rey and through learning he left the Dark Side as well as The First Order, she let him join the Resistance. General Leia was reportedly happy, however not planetside. It was a load to grasp onto mentally. No sooner had you heard the news, you avoided the camp and in turn Ben as much as physically possible. Helping batuuans and helping to spread the Resistance’s purpose took up most of your day.
As it should, you thought.
Even as you ventured through the Outpost, Rey had lead the former Kylo Ren into the Resistance encampment. Tensions had been high for at least the first forty-eight hours. Having a former leader of The First Order so close did that.
Yet keeping busy and out of sight didn’t seem to do much good with Force sensitives around. You were surprised when Rey had approached you and asked if you’d speak with Ben. She had learned that yourself and Ben had known one another prior to him donning a new name. Something you weren’t too keen on thinking about.
Yet, here we go.
You let out a long heavy sigh. It had been a long while since you had really thought about your life prior to joining the fight to save the galaxy. You were not the first to do so, but you truly hoped you would be among the last.
You had family in the New Republic’s political system. Some of which were currently on the First Order’s radar. You and Ben had met in a senate building. Family busy with their job and duties. You remembered a time when you would jump at the opportunity to join whichever family member had a senatorial meeting. Back then, you had an entertaining friendship with the young Ben Solo. The two of you would share both bizarre and mundane stories from across the galaxy. Between visits, meetings, and comm conversations, the friendship had grown into something more. There were feelings that were blatant mutual, however never spoken.
Your feelings had changed. Time and experience made you stronger and more aware.
Things change. People change. Some more than others.
Back then, after hearing what happened to Ben—him actually contacting you and asking you to support The First Order—quickly lead into a heated conversation before you just shut off the call on him and threw yourself into fully supporting the Resistance by joining. There was such a heavy rock-feeling in your heart then. One you used to and turned into a fire to help the Resistance.
I don’t want to see his face, you thought. Sitting back on the bench, you stretched out your legs. Didn’t think I’d be disappointed or annoyed with seeing Rey though. Sometimes she’s too kind for her own good. But no. No. She’s not getting me to speak with…him. No. How many times do I have to tell her ‘no’? He can be here all he likes. I’m busy. The Resistance is busy. I don’t need to see him.
The usual stress of being a Resistance member had tripled on top of growing frustration. That was no way to live. You needed air. You needed space. And you needed to venture to other communities on Batuu. A perfect escape.
An escape?
Grumbling lowly, your eyes scanned over the populace. No sign of of Resistance members. Two stormtroopers on patrol, citizens walking between other citizens, and possibly a handful of scoundrels. A typical day.
. . .
Double checking you hadn’t forgotten your credits, you peeked out of your tent. Looking left, right, and back again—the area was free of Ben. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t need to speak to him. You didn’t really want to anyway.
Things to do, food to eat, people to help. Can’t spend my whole day like this. Again. No one’s up this early anyway.
. . .
“I don’t know about this.” Finn murmured to Poe as the two waited for Rey outside.
“I just want to see if (Y/N) uses a blaster on him.” Poe said as he crossed his arms and rose his eyebrows to his friend. “I really wouldn’t be surprised. But I’m hoping.”
“Hey. Rey really wants them to talk it out.”
“If she pushes (Y/N) any farther, there’s going to be a shoot out. Very little talking.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? Let him try something.”
“He wouldn’t dare.” Finn crossed his arms as well.
The two Force sensitives came into view from behind a line of foliage and storage crates. One tall and confident, the other tall and guilty.
“Guess we’ll find out.” Poe leaned his weight to the side.
“Have you kept an eye on her?” Rey asked as she reached the pair.
“She left her tent about ten minutes ago.” Finn said calmly. The calm tone only a thin layer over his wariness. “She headed towards the ships about a minute ago.”
“Good. She couldn’t have gotten too far.” She smiled and turned to Ben. “You two will be able to talk this time. I know you will.”
Ben Solo simply nodded, but a small hint of a smile graced his features. Rey’s smiles were sometimes hard to not share. He hoped she was right.
“Yeah, no. Why don’t we—you two—leave (Y/N) alone. She doesn’t want to see him.” Poe gestured to Ben. “Don’t encourage this. Whatever the hell it is.”
“They were friends.” Rey said, standing firmly.
“Exactly. ‘Were friends’.”
“Why don’t we let (Y/N) decide.”
“Fine.”
Finn sighed quietly to himself. He had no idea how any of this was going to turn out. Holding out hope that everyone he cared about would keep their heads, he walked with the group towards the ships.
It didn’t take long for them to hear the familiar sound of a ship’s engine. The sound only fueled the group to rush over to an A-Wing still grounded. The pilot? You, of course.
Ben swallowed thickly as he made eye contact with you. The recognization in your face only resulted in a heavy curse word easily read on your lips. He could sense your distaste from where he stood. It only added to his vulnerability. He had not expected to be opening up to his past in this way. It frightened him. Would you still have any hidden feelings for him?
. . .
If you did not care or work on your ship, you would had hit a panel with your fist. Reluctantly, you left the sanctuary of your A-Wing and trudged your way across the sand to the group staring at you. There was no way you were going to risk Rey keeping your ship down using the Force when it would hopefully be easier to just get one conversation over with.
I hate this already.
You stopped about two paces from the group. There was no need to guess what they wanted. It was only a matter of time before they tried a different tactic to get you to talk with Ben.
“Hi.” You said flatly, arms crossed under your chest.
Poe and Finn stood off to the side, both pairs of eyes checking on Ben every few seconds.
“You were leaving?” Rey asked, eyebrows raised slightly. She stood next to Ben who still wore dark tones and a guarded expression.
“Yes.”
“Can you stay long enough to talk?”
“I have some time.”
Everyone stood rooted in their spot. The breeze coming through the trees gave noise to the break in conversation.
Here we go, I guess. Remain calm. There is nothing to get entirely aggravated about. Just breathe and listen.
Rey turned to Ben for a moment before saying, “Ben would like to talk with you.”
You nodded.
“It’s…uh…,” Ben began speaking to you. “It’s been a while. You look well.”
Your eyebrows rose on their own accord.
Wow.
Again, you nodded. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
From his side, Rey gave him an encouraging head gesture. Ben’s hands hung loosely at his sides.
“Look, I know that I’ve done terrible things, but I left all of it. I’m not a part of it any more. I want to help.” He said, his tone somewhere between calm and persuasive.
“So you joined the Resistance.” You added to whatever narrative he was saying.
“I did…and I didn’t know you had joined. If I’d had known that I…maybe things would be different.”
“I joined right after we last talked.” You pursed your lips and soon the words started tumbling out. “I’d think that me telling you that I wouldn’t join the First Order would had told you something.” Keeping your voice calm was all you needed to focus on.
Don’t let him get to you.
Ben’s frame deflated, shoulders falling.
“There’s a lot that’s changed over the years. No doubting that. Is there something….else that you wanted to talk about?” You asked. Being taken through memory lane with Ben Solo was not what you had in mind. Especially when those memories brought up were the last ones you had when he decided to join the First Order and he left his Jedi training up in flames.
“I want to be your friend again.”
“What?” The word slipped out from you before you could stop yourself.
“I miss you,” Ben’s voice lowered, almost hushed as the words seemed to tug their way out of him. “I want to be your friend again. I miss spending time with you.”
The kriff?
“I’m sorry for all of the terrible things that I’ve done. I can’t change the past. But I can do what I can now.”
You shook your head.
Dark eyebrows knitted together. It looked as if he had taken a hit to the gut.
“I—wow… Look, I can not promise that I’ll be your friend again. I’m just being realistic here. A true friend would not have done…would not have asked me what you did years ago. I don’t…,” you sighed and uncrossed your arms. “I don’t trust you.”
Ben’s mouth hung open as he stared at you. A strong amount of hurt and confusion colored on his fair face.
Keeping your ground was what you intended to do from the start and you would. There had been too many nights, too many days where his choices effected more than simply him. Forgiveness did not always have to be given. It had taken you so long to forgive yourself for things you never did, for feelings your had for him, and things you had considered doing. What Ben did, you were not obligated to forgive him in any amount.
“(Y/N).” Ben said quietly.
“No.”
No. Can’t do it. I’ve already been through this.
You looked away from him and to the other two men. Poe and Finn. Two people you did trust, especially at that moment. Neither one said a word in favor of either you nor Ben. In fact, Finn looked to be observing from a more calm stand point whereas Poe had his arms firmly crossed across his chest. If there was someone who truly did not like the conversation happening, other than you, it was Poe.
Are we finished now?
Boots shifted the sand as Ben took a more wide stance.
“I’m here now. I’m trying to help.” Ben urged. “If you’d just forgive me, we can start over. I didn’t do anything to you. I’ve said things and asked you to join the First Order when I had, but I never went after you. I would never do that.”
You squared your shoulders. There was only so much a person could take.
Calm. Calm, you thought as you breathed through your nose.
“You made a choice, Ben. You ran off to Snoke instead of your parents. To your mother who would protect you from anyone and anything. You chose The First Order instead of your own family. What the hell for? You are not and were not limited in your choices. You’ve done unspeakable things in The First Order. You hurt Poe, Finn, and Rey.” Your breath came out as hot air through your nose. “Did you really just ask me to forgive you?”
Ben’s throated bopped, “Yes.”
The kriffing hell. He just—
“I cannot pretend that you weren’t Kylo Ren. Words aren’t enough.”
“Ben is with us now.” Rey interjected. “He left The First Order.”
You returned your gaze to Ben’s dark brown eyes. “Did you do anything to help dismantle them? Sabotage their plans besides leaving?”
“(Y/N),” Rey said. “You’re asking too much of him. Give him a chance.”
“I did. Years ago before I dropped the call. The call where he asked me to join the kriffing First Order. No.”
Poe and Finn shifted uncomfortably.
“If what you all want is for me to give him a chance in the Resistance, fine. That’s technically not my call. It’s a group effort. But,” You looked Ben hard in the eyes. “If you’re asking more from me…don’t expect anything.”
His dark eyebrows curved up, a look of hurt returning twice over.
“Wait…,” Poe started to lean closer. “What more could he want?”
Your silent answer and unmasked facial expression gave cause to Poe’s reaction.
“Oh, come on…You can’t be serious.” The pilot groaned.
Ben sent a narrowed gaze to the other man.
“We’re not talking about what never happened.” You added more calmly.
“All in favor of ending this conversation?” Poe asked as he could no longer make eye contact with anyone around him. “Because it needs to.”
“(Y/N),” Ben took a step closer. “I’ll do all that I can to help stop the First Order.”
“That’s what we’re all here doing,” Poe added dryly.
“Finn. Poe.” Rey said in a direct and calm manner. “Let’s give them a moment.”
Both men looked over with incredulous looks.
“Come on,” she gestured with her head as she turned and started walking away.
Finn made eye contact with you and said, “Let us know if you need anything.”
You nodded.
Poe Dameron on the other hand cleared his throat and unmistakably patted the weapon in his holster. Thankfully his messages were never subtle.
The moment that the others were out of earshot, you turned your attention to Ben once more.
“Anything else you’d like to say?”
“Are any of my ‘sorry’s enough?”
“There needs to be action to match. Help us. Show that you changed.”
“My feelings haven’t changed.”
A heavy exhale left you.
“You don’t feel the same?” He asked.
“No. Not for a long time.”
It was easy to recognize the genuine hurt in Ben’s eyes. Yes, you felt empathy, however you no longer held romantic feelings for Ben Solo. There was nothing for you to do.
“I have to get back to work.” You said, giving a general gesture behind you. “We have a Resistance to rebuild.”
“I understand.”
“Best of luck, Ben.”
“…Thanks.”
Giving an awkward wave, you pivoted on the spot and headed back to your A-Wing. A weight was lifted from your shoulders and the need to check your surroundings in a safe area had drastically dwindled down. At least your mind would be in a better place while you went out to other communities.
There was limited choice in how you would be interacting near the newest Resistance member. You would learn to work alongside Ben because saving the galaxy from the overpowering use of the Dark Side did not stop for ruined relationships. One day he might even become a nice partner to have when having to go out in your ship. Ben was a great pilot. Yet, only time would tell. Only the Force knew about what was to come.
You would not stray to far from camp, however you would keep a firm eye on Ben to protect the ones you cared about. You did not have to forgive him and you did not think you ever would at that point. The First Order was still a threat and they were scrapping many corners of Batuu to find their base.
It was time to go to work.
~~~
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~~~~~
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#Kylo Ren x Reader#Ben Solo x Reader#Ben Solo x f!Reader#Kylo Ren x f!Reader#Star Wars fanfiction#Star Wars imagines#where dreamers go#requested#Star Wars#Rey#Finn#Poe Dameron#Batuu#angst#Ben Solo
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Resist
summary: You’re Steve’s cousin and you have a secret relationship with Javier—which you know will be much to Steve’s distaste. (requested by anon)
note: translations included at the bottom
pairing: javier peña x f!reader
warnings: swearing (obviously), a little bit of fluff, angst? idk how to describe it
rating: R
word count: 3.872k
masterlist
“Javi!” you exclaim between kisses and giggles, pushing your boyfriend closer and closer towards your apartment door. “I’m—serious! You have—to go—before Steve—gets—suspicious.” You leave a firm and final kiss on his lips before pulling yourself away completely, still finding yourself trapped in Javier’s arms.
“Pero no quiero dejarte,” Javier mumbles, trying to convince you by planting fervent kisses down your neck.
“You’re… always there… well before us.” You struggle to get the words out, having to intermittently swallow the breaths of pleasure that try to escape your throat.
“Puedo decir que me desperté tarde.” Javier pulls away but leaves his face just inches from yours, looking deep into your eyes with his alluring dark gaze.
Damn, he’s good at this.
“Usa tu inglés.” You earn a chuckle at that. “They can’t be suspicious, Javi—especially Steve. He’ll kill us.”
“He’ll kill me,” Javier corrects you, causing you to scoff at him. You swallow that sound right back when Javier pulls your body tight against his, smiling down at you. “But it would be worth it.” He leans down to kiss you once more before pulling away. “I’ll go just to make sure we can have more of a future.”
You smile up at him, momentarily losing yourself in his dark pools of affection. “Muchas gracias, mi amor. Te veré pronto. Te amo.” You run a hand over his cheek as you speak.
“Adios, amada. Te amo mucho.” Javier leaves a soft kiss on your forehead before he pulls away from you completely, opening your apartment door and closing it quietly. You secure it behind him, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath and let your smile persist.
You haven’t been this happy in so long—but there’s limitations. The thing is, the embassy would not be as happy to know you and one of your DEA partners are dating. And Steve, well… it was going to be hard to convince your closest cousin that you and Javier made a good couple.
You and Steve had grown up very close together, and he was the closest thing you had to a brother. It’s how you both ended up in the same career field. You trained together, confided in each other, and you even worked together—when Steve’s partner got killed. You and Connie were his main sources of strength during that time, and so, naturally, Steve asked you to come to Colombia with him when he was reassigned. You were hesitant at first, but you agreed, and you soon found yourself living right down the hall from him in a Colombian apartment building.
A building in which you soon discovered your other new partner lived: Javier Peña. As utterly handsome as you thought the man was, your first impression of him was… not extremely flattering. Steve had warned you about his tactics, and you could easily see how he operated like that. The man oozed sex appeal, from the tight shirts he wore to the excessive buttons he left open on his chest. Not that you had noticed or stared at those details perhaps a few moments longer than necessary. Still, it’s not like you were one to make judgments on his love life—or lack thereof. His gruff responses and know-it-all nature were enough to make you extremely wary of him.
Long story short, you got to know him much better—thanks to encouragement from Connie, who invited the two of you to many events to force you to actually interact with him—and you soon found yourself falling for more than just his physical appearance. You noted the way he deeply cared about not only his job, but the people, and how he always put everyone’s safety first. He became especially protective over you, beginning to stick closer by your side on any outside ventures and offering to accompany you whenever you had to go somewhere outside the embassy or your apartment.
It happened on a day when you hadn’t read the weather forecast. You’d needed to do some grocery shopping, and as you were leaving your building, Javier caught you and asked if you wanted a companion. You agreed, craving his presence at that point, and found yourself lost in conversation with him the entire trip. Soon after you’d finished your shopping, thunder had rumbled in the distance, and rain followed it quickly. With no jacket and no umbrella, you found yourself completely vulnerable to the harsh rainfall—but Javier wouldn’t accept that. He’d taken off his own jacket and given it to you, holding your bags for you so that you could hold the jacket over your head. By the time you’d gotten back to the apartment building, you were semi-dry, and Javier was soaked. You felt terrible, and you offered to have him over for some soup and coffee once he’d gotten himself dried off. Of course, he obliged.
That gesture alone had told you that Javier likely felt the same way about you that you felt about him, and so it wasn’t a surprise that after your dinner conversation had sidetracked greatly, you somehow came to the topic of what’d happened. The feelings came out—on both ends, surprisingly for you—and you found yourselves making out on your couch soon after. Javier had promised to wait for more as soon as you were ready and had also promised that as long as he had you, he was done rendezvousing with his informants. You’d also agreed that absolutely no one could know, especially Steve—who was still skeptical about Javier as far as his personal life went.
Now, it’s been months, and you’ve somehow kept your relationship successfully under wraps. Sleepovers are a regular thing for you both, typically at your apartment—since Javier’s was directly under Steve’s—and you try to get Javier out for work at the usual early time he shows up so no one suspects anything. If you arrive together, it’ll just be obvious that you’re operating on the same schedule. Also, Javier’s been teaching you more Spanish, so that you can speak to him around Steve and Connie and not have them pick up anything too obvious. Since Steve’s Spanish is shit, you find yourselves communicating easily without fear of him finding out what you’re saying. It’s all been working perfectly, but you know the secret can’t last forever.
Steve’s been acting a bit different around you two, now. You try to act as natural as you can when you go out with him, Connie, and Javier, but you can’t help wondering if he can sometimes see yours and Javier’s hands entwined underneath the tablecloths, or the two of you hiding in the dark corners of the bars to dance together. He’s been asking you a lot of questions about your life outside of work, more than usual, and you’re beginning to run out of excuses. You always tell each other everything, and so you also feel a pang of guilt for not telling him about a major part of your life. But you know it wouldn’t be good for anybody if he found out, so you continue keeping it to yourself.
You think of all of this as you exchange one of Javier’s shirts you’ve been wearing for an appropriate work outfit, humming one of Javier’s favorite songs under your breath as you get ready. You find yourself going faster than usual, already missing Javier’s presence. The room still smells of him, a scent you pick up especially when you finish making the bed. It’s a strong smell of his cologne mixed with a touch of smoke, and you find it intoxicating. You can’t help laughing a bit to yourself at the way you’re thinking and acting. You hadn’t imagined in a million years that you’d be head-over-heels for the man the day you met him.
You’re ready a few minutes earlier than usual, but nevertheless, you find Steve waiting for you when you walk out of your apartment. He jingles the keys in his hands, giving you a nod before you walk out of the building together. He always drives you over to the embassy, since it’s your chance to have some conversation before the workday begins. It’s just another one of the many reasons why you have to kick Javier out of your apartment so early every day.
Your drive begins in silence, but it’s soon broken by Steve as he does a double take over at you. “Hey, you dressin’ to impress today or what?” His question is accompanied by a scoff, and you look down at your outfit to see what he’s getting at. You curse mentally as you observe that, because he was all you could think about throughout your morning routine, you had subconsciously dressed to impress Javier. Your three-quarter-sleeve button-up’s one of your tighter-fitting selections, the first few buttons exposing just enough to leave any observant man satisfied at the sight. The dangling pendant necklace that Javier had gifted you doesn’t help to avert anyone’s gaze from the sight, either. Your pants also fit tightly, but that’s your typical style, so you don’t think too much of it. “And I don’t think I’ve seen that necklace before. Where’d ya’ get it?”
“I found it at a marketplace,” you inform him, bullshitting as best as you can. “And this is one of my only clean shirts right now. Maybe it’ll help us get someone to tell us something.”
Steve chuckles, shaking his head as he stares at the road. “No, I don’t want people to use you like that.” He looks over at you again. “Especially—.”
“I know, Steve, I know.” Your words come out in an exasperated sigh as you roll your eyes. “Don’t worry. I feel the same way.” It almost pains you to say the words.
“Well, hopefully he does, too, ‘cause he’s been looking awful suspicious to me lately.”
You try your hardest to keep your expression from changing at his words. “What do you mean?”
“Javi hasn’t gotten any information. Haven’t you picked up on that?”
You crease your brow, feigning confusion. “And?”
“And? Where does he usually get his information from?” Steve looks over at you upon hearing your silence, and all you can offer him is a shrug.
“Maybe he’s just… sick of being used and using people.”
Steve scoffs. “Javier? Being sick of gettin’ laid? Not a chance.”
You look over at him in a frustrated manner. “Then what do you think he’s up to, Steve?”
Steve shrugs, releasing a sigh as he stares at the streets ahead of him. “Honestly, I don’t have a goddamn clue. But… I’m afraid he might like you.”
You choke on air, trying your best to transform your panicked reaction into a surprised one. “Like me? Steve, you’re joking, right?”
“I’m serious. Connie thinks so, too.”
You chuckle, crossing your arms as you look out of the window. “I don’t think so.”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“This is Javier Peña we’re talking about. You think he could ever give into feelings like that, especially for a coworker?”
Steve’s silent for a few moments, and when you look over at him, you can see that you’ve won the battle—for now. “Well, either way, I’m still cautious. Just… be careful, alright? You never know what he’s gonna do.”
Oh, I know full and well what he does. You manage to keep the retort in your head as you nod instead, resisting the urge to take a breath of relief as you and Steve park at the embassy. You head inside in silence, hoping that the stress of the conversation goes away. Yet, as excited as you are to see Javier again, you know it’s only going to make you think of everything Steve’s just said—and that stress won’t go away easily.
As soon as you and Steve are in sight of your tri-desk setup, you can see Javier look up from where he’s been sorting through some files. His eyes light up at the sight of you, and he holds back a smile with difficulty. This is something that only you, hopefully, can notice. You also notice that his eyes drift down a bit as they look at you, and you try not to let your cheeks heat up as you remember what your shirt is revealing.
“Eyes up, Peña,” Steve quips, causing your blood to run cold for a moment.
Javier scoffs, shrugging as he gestures with his head towards you. “Then tell her the same thing for me.”
You chuckle, punching Javier’s shoulder playfully as you sit at your desk. “Don’t flatter yourself like that, Javi. I was just making sure you actually wore a shirt to work today.”
You can hear Steve snort in amusement, and as soon as his attention is averted, Javier sends you a sly wink. You shake your head at him, looking down at the work you left on your desk for yourself yesterday. A few minutes go by, during which you try to forget the ever-present tension between you, your cousin, and your boyfriend. It’s all spent in silence, but it’s suddenly interrupted by Javier’s phone ringing. He picks it up, and you try not to stare at him as he talks. He hangs up quickly, directing his next words at Steve.
“Murphy, Messina needs you for a few minutes,” Javier informs your partner.
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Did she say why?”
Javier shakes his head. “Probably somethin’ I’m not allowed to know.”
Steve chuckles, rising from his desk with a sigh. “Wish me luck.” He then walks off in the direction of Messina’s office. Javier immediately looks at you, his dark eyes sparkling. A smile begins to tug at your lips.
“Agent, I’ve got something you should see,” Javier says, gesturing with his head towards one of the vacant soundproof offices near you. “I’ll show Murphy when he gets back.” He stands up, grabbing a random file folder and beginning to walk in that direction. You follow him, attempting to bite back your smile as you walk.
As soon as the office door is secured behind you, the folder’s tossed lazily on the desk and Javier’s mouth is on yours, and you laugh into the kiss as you find yourself trapped between him and the wall. He pulls away soon after, giving you a smile. You can’t help returning it, feeling elated to see him so joyful after all the dark shit he and you have both seen recently.
“You have no idea how excited I am to see you, querida,” Javier mumbles, his gaze drifting down as his hands crawl up your sides. “And it looks like you wanted to make me extra excited, huh?”
You let out a small laugh, using one of your hands to tilt his chin back up to look at you. “It wasn’t exactly intentional,” you tell him. “But it was you.” You use that hand to brush your thumb across his cheek. “And it’s nice to see you too, amado.”
Javier’s smile persists, and you see a flash of it before he wraps his arms completely around you, burying his face in the nape of your neck. “No quiero trabajar hoy, amada. Quiero pasar todo mi tiempo contigo.”
“What did I tell you about your inglés, Javier?” you tease, running a hand over his hair. He chuckles, tickling your skin at the sensation of it. You let out a sigh, resting your chin on his head as you think of your drive to the embassy. “We gotta be careful, Javi.”
“Why?” Javier’s question is gruff, but he still leaves his head where it is.
“Steve was talking to me on the way here. He said that he thinks you like me, and he’s suspicious of you.”
Javier finally lifts his head at that, smirking at you. “Well, he’s not wrong.”
You shake your head, trying to hold back a chuckle. “I’m serious, amor. He could be onto us soon if we’re not careful.”
Javier sighs, stepping back and taking both of your hands in his. “I know. I’m trying my best. It’s just… so hard to resist you, amada.”
You give his hands a squeeze. “I feel the same way. But, remember, for our future.”
Javier nods to agree, leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek before he begins to walk back out of the office. He picks up the folder on the way, returning to his desk as if nothing’s just happened. You do the same, and thankfully, you’re able to make it last throughout the workday. It’s a slow day, anyway, and so much of it is just spent flipping through files and trying to see if you can come up with any new intel.
You finally feel free by the time you’re back to your apartment. Steve drops you off with a quick embrace, insisting that he would’ve offered to take you out with him and Connie, had she not been so exhausted from her own workday. You assure him that it’s alright—you already have plans with Javier anyway, though you keep that to yourself—and you’re soon practically skipping around your apartment. You get comfortable, slipping that shirt of Javier’s back on and releasing your hair from where it’s been pulled back all day.
Soon, you’re stepping back out into the main part of your apartment, and you’re about to crack open a fresh bottle of wine for you and your boyfriend when you hear muffled commotion coming from downstairs. Panic climbs inside of you, and you hurry over to the door. You press your ear against it to listen for what’s happening.
There’s a vicious knocking against one of the downstairs apartments. It’s soon followed by a harsh, “Open the fuck up, Peña!” You wrinkle your brow at the sound of it. Steve? Why the hell is he bothering Javier so aggressively?
You hear the knocking stop, and you assume the door’s been opened as a new voice appears. “Murphy? What the hell—” Javier tries to ask.
“What the fuck, Javi?” Steve yells, and you hear a thud as if something’s been shoved into a wall. “What are you doing with her?” Your eyes widen at the obvious reference to you.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Murphy?” Javier tries his best to retort with confusion. “I haven’t done anything with her!”
“You’re a shit liar, Peña!” Steve laughs almost maniacally, and you hear another thud. “You haven’t done anything, huh? Then why do you stare her down every day? Why are you bringing her into the office so often? And why did my wife see you come out of her apartment this morning?”
Your heart drops into your stomach. Oh shit.
“Steve—.”
“She’s like my sister, Javi! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your eyes are widened to twice their usual size, and before you can think more about it you whip open the door of your apartment. You rush down to Javier’s apartment, seeing the door still open as Steve pins Javier against the wall of his small entryway. He’s too angry to notice your sudden presence, and Javier’s too busy trying to rack his brain for excuses to notice you, either. “She’s not one of your whores! She’s like goddamn family to me!” He pauses, grabbing Javier’s collar with both of his hands as he hisses the next question. “Are you just fucking her, Peña?”
“No, Steve!” you interject, catching both men off guard as you break them apart. “Calm the fuck down!”
Steve starts saying your name, but stops himself when he observes your outfit, his eyes darkening even more. “Is that… Javi’s shirt?”
You let out a breath, raising your chin a bit as you nod at him. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
Steve nearly gapes at you, his brow raising in disbelief. “What the hell is going on?”
You look over at Javier, seeing his dark eyes widened at you. Your lips curve up into a smile as you step closer to him, reaching for one of his hands and securing it in yours. You then look back at Steve. “We’re together, Steve.”
Steve’s speechless for a few moments, looking as if he’s gotten the wind knocked out of him. “You two? Together? What…” He trails off, evidently at a loss for words. You look back over at Javier, seeing his slight nervousness at the situation. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before looking back over at Steve. “How long?”
You swallow hard. “Almost four months.”
“Four months?” Steve’s voice comes out almost like a squeak. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he runs his hand over his hair. “Damn. I can’t believe you two managed to hide this for four months.”
“To be fair, you were just starting to get suspicious,” you say, causing him to laugh a bit more comfortably.
“Yeah, I guess.” Steve then sighs, looking between the two of you with just a hint of happiness. “Sorry, Javi, I guess I was a little harsh on you. As long as you make her happy.”
Javier nods earnestly at his partner. “Of course, Murphy.”
Steve then narrows his eyes at him. “But if you ever hurt her, Javi, I swear to God—.”
“Steve,” you hiss, raising an eyebrow in warning. “It’ll be fine.”
He lifts his hands in surrender, stepping further away from the two of you. “Alright, alright, I’m just sayin’.” Steve pauses again, looking between the two of you with a growing smile. “Damn, I can’t believe it was her who got you to crack, Javi.”
Javier shrugs. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”
You scoff, turning around to slap his shoulder with your free hand. “¡Pendejo!”
Javier laughs, and you see Steve chuckling a bit. “Well, I’ll leave you two to… um…” Steve trails off, as if he can’t conceive of what you could possibly be doing. You and Javier laugh as he stumbles out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.
You let out a heavy sigh, facing Javier fully again. “Holy shit, that was terrifying. Are you okay?”
Javier smiles down at you. “I thought Steve was gonna try to beat my ass, but you saved me. So, yes, I’m okay.”
You return his smile. “Good.” You reach for his other hand, giving them both a squeeze as your smile persists. “Well, I’ve got a brand-new bottle of wine upstairs, and I know we could both use some right now.”
Javier pulls you against him, holding your waist delicately as he brings his face close to yours. “All I need is you, amada.”
You shake your head at him, brushing your lips against his as you speak. “Eres demasiado encantador, amado. Te amo.” You press your mouth fully against his, letting the overwhelming feeling of affection and pleasure run through you before Javier pulls away.
“Te amo más, amada.”
translations:
Pero no quiero dejarte = But I don’t want to leave you
Puedo decir que me desperté tarde = I can say that I woke up late
Usa tu inglés = Use your English
Muchas gracias, mi amor. Te veré pronto. Te amo. = Thank you so much, my love. I’ll see you soon. I love you.
Adios, amada. Te amo mucho. = Goodbye, sweetheart. I love you so much.
querida = dear
No quiero trabajar hoy, amada. Quiero pasar todo mi tiempo contigo. = I don’t want to work today, sweetheart. I want to spend all my time with you.
¡Pendejo! = Asshole!
Eres demasiado encantador, amado. Te amo. = You’re too charming, sweetheart. I love you.
Te amo más, amada. = I love you more, sweetheart.
#I am in love with this man pls help#javier peña x reader#javier peña#javier pena#javi peña#narcos#oneshots#requests#dindjarindiaries
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Muses + Short Mun Bio
My name is Lana, and I’m the mun of this blog. I’m a high school student who primarily writes horror and mystery stories, with emphasis on lying, manipulation, and physical and psychological torment, but I enjoy simpler, more slice-of-life stories, so long as there’s a good plot. My pronouns are she / they.
Muses are right below the cut!!
Adrian Michaels - A dancer performing alongside her sister all across America. She’s rather shy, but with her performances, she’s found herself becoming a bit more outgoing. She normally wears darker colors. Her resolve is stronger than it seems, and she’s normally the voice of reason in dire situations.
24 years old || Female || She / they || 5′ 7″ || African-American || Bisexual
Bella Michaels - A singer performing alongside her sister all across America. She’s outgoing and loves people, and wants to gain friends and fans all over the country. She wears brighter colors. She’s often rash and impulsive, but keeps herself from lashing out at others. Her entire life, she’s enjoyed sewing, and makes both her and her sister’s costumes.
24 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 8″ || African-American || Heterosexual
Caden Contiman - A former college student who dropped out due to a variety of factors, mainly emotional stress. He lives with his parents and isn’t allowed to leave the house, but he sneaks out at night and stays out until dawn before heading home to sleep all day. He studied psychology in college, which has led to an almost intimate knowledge of the human mind and an ability to read almost any emotion and action. He’s somewhat cruel, and tends to play mean-spirited pranks on everyone who catches his eye. He doesn’t allow anyone to know anything personal about him, but always pries into others’ lives and minds.
19 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 10″ || Welsh || Homosexual
Casey Allman - A strange writer who works himself near death. He’s believed to be the only living member of his family, and spent quite a bit of time in the limelight during the collapse of the Allman family, which was spread out over three years. He’s antisocial, and freezes up if confronted by another person. The only thing that seems to bring him any joy anymore is his writing. When describing things, he goes into way more detail than is necessary. He has several bizarre quirks that tend to freak out the people around him.
22 years old || Male || He / they || 5′ 11″ || Korean-American || Homosexual
Charlie Patten - An assassin who travels the world, learning about every place he goes on every mission. While on missions, he poses as a tourist, and when the job’s done, he doesn’t bother to stick around for much longer. He’s rather confident, bordering on cocky, and can rarely be swayed to do something if money isn’t involved. When he’s not on the job, he’s a pretty sweet and approachable guy, if always on-guard and somewhat suspicious of everyone.
24 years old || Male || He / him || 6′ 1″ || Canadian || Bisexual
Christopher Simon - A waiter living in a large city, having to work multiple jobs to support himself and his younger brother. He’s quite cynical, which is different from his more optimistic, sweet little brother. He only does things for money, even if it’s unethical or dangerous. His constant struggle to survive has spawned a distaste for frivolous things or luxuries, seeing them as a waste of money. Despite being so cynical (and, for the most part, tired), he completely changes when around his brother, washing away to show a happier, much less tense. He despises his appearance and avoids mirrors and other reflective surfaces.
25 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 9″ || British || Homosexual
“Cian” - A mysterious chemist living on the edge of a small town in Ireland, calling himself an alchemist. He has a love of plants, wild animals, and nature in general, a love only heightened by the dense forest behind his home. He’s very quiet and somewhat secretive, but passionate about his work and loves to talk about it. He can be quite blunt or uncooperative at times, but he does enjoy company, especially when the discussion turns to chemicals.
25 years old || Male || He / him || 6′ 6″ || Irish || Homosexual
Ciara McCormack - A ruthless queen whose family has ruled a small part of southern Ireland for generations. Having been raised with a cutthroat mentality and trained to eliminate all competition, Ciara has grown up to have that exact approach to everything in her life, making her a fearsome opponent to say the least. She’s quick to cut out anything she doesn’t need, which includes banishing or even executing anyone who even shows any chance of being a danger to her reign.
27 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 9″ || Irish || Heterosexual
Corianna Sutton - An assistant investigator to her older cousin Evian, despite not fully believing in ghosts. She has a bit of an obsession with fire, which is shown in the burn scars and bandages covering the right side of her body. She’s cynical but still friendly and approachable, although her demeanor can come off as bizarre. She drinks often, and keeps a flask painted with the lesbian flag hooked on her belt.
28 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 6″ || German || Homosexual
Daniel Hirsch - A teenage street urchin and graffiti artist who is almost never seen without his sister. He’s annoying and troublemaking, but not without a kind heart. He doesn’t find it easy to make friends, but considers that unimportant, knowing that he’ll always have his twin by his side. He’s more verbally restrained than his sister, but just as irritating as she is.
14 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 4″ || German || Bisexual
Evian Sutton - A paranormal investigator who explores all sorts of “haunted” places, recording them for her YouTube channel. She doesn’t always carry around all of her equipment, but she makes sure to keep a recorder on her at all times. She’s unapproachable and abrasive, and isn’t very friendly towards anyone other than her younger cousin Corianna. Normally, when she’s approached by someone else, she’ll simply brush them off with a few crass words. She’s normally very uninterested when it comes to most things, but the paranormal piques her interest and gets her truly passionate.
29 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 9″ || German || Asexual
Grace Hirsch - A teenage street urchin and graffiti artist who is almost never seen without her brother. She’s a loudmouth with little control over what she says, and she often instigates fights, even without meaning to. She has a teddy bear she carries with her everywhere, with rips and patches all over it, that she considers the closest thing to her aside from her brother. Every possession she owns is stored inside of a large backpack she carries slung over one shoulder.
14 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 4″ || German || Heterosexual
Kai “Shōakuma” Misaki - A high school student often accompanied outside of school by his loyal falcon Chieko. He’s social and charismatic, with an ability to capture almost anyone’s attention with his wild stories. He’s absolutely fascinated by history, especially religion, as well as the supernatural. Despite his eccentricities, he’s a good person, with a strong moral compass and a warm, kind heart.
17 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 2″ || Japanese || Bisexual
Kunimasa Sakurai - A young man living with his family while attending the local college. He’s stuck to a strict fitness regimen for years, and has a passion for physical health, believing it links back to everything in one’s life. He holds family and friendship close to his heart, and would die to protect the people he loves.
20 years old || Male || He / they || 5′ 6″ || African-Japanese || Asexual
Landon Garrison - A bounty hunter residing on the deep web, hidden behind the pseudonym “Black Mask”. For a price, he can find anyone’s personal information and give it to his client. He doesn’t socialize much, preferring to hide indoors on his computer. When he is accompanied by someone else, he’s notably tense, and refuses to do anything that can make him seem vulnerable.
24 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 11″ || British || Bisexual
Logan Garrison - A talented painter who has somehow lacked emotions since birth. He’s managed to learn how to adapt to any situation and show whatever emotions he needs to, comparing it to painting, and despite his inability to feel empathy, he’s able to sympathize with others, and knows right from wrong. He’s extremely protective of his brother, Landon, and fears for his safety, knowing the dark web can be dangerous. Most of his life is taken up by his art.
24 years old || Male || He / him || 6′ 1″ || British || Asexual
Lyrica Jansen - A wealthy heiress with a high net worth. Her older sister vanished mysteriously, causing her to become the sole heir to the family fortune. She looks dangerous and unkind, but despite her icy exterior, she’s kind and welcoming to others, but not without many threats towards those who disobey her. Her clothing and jewelry are elaborate and she’s quite tall, making her somewhat intimidating to be around.
19 years old || Female || She / her || 6′ 3″ || Dutch || Homosexual
Maysilee Patten - A former soldier on the search for the people who destroyed her home. She’s a sweet person, but her fuse is unbelievably short, and she’s easily sent into a rage. She’s skilled with nearly every kind of weapon, her preferred weapon being knives. Her loyalty is unmatched, but so is her ability to hold a grudge.
22 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 10″ || Irish || Pansexual
Minka Himura - A sarcastic high school student working part-time at her family’s butcher shop, deli, and restaurant. She loves to play pranks on her family and classmates, some of which have dangerous consequences. Although she’s quite mean-spirited, she has a soft spot for her siblings, and is a hard worker.
16 years old || Female || She / they || 5′ 3″ || Polish-Japanese || Questioning
Myla Crimm - A doll-like teenager with a knack for collecting random items. They don’t speak much, and prefer to blend into the background. She resides in her childhood home, which is now decrepit after the death of her mother. Because they live alone, they have quite a bit of experience and can take care of themself just fine. He’s levelheaded, but curious, and is aware of how off-putting he can sometimes appear to others.
18 years old || Genderfluid || She / he / they || 5′ 4″ || American || Bisexual
Onacona Pierce - A high school student and the head of his school’s music club. He’s a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to instruments, playing most, if not all, with skill, but he prefers the guitar. He’s easygoing and fun to be around, with an unexpected love of horror movies and literature. They have an online presence where they perform music. Currently, he mostly performs covers, but he’s been starting to write more and more original work.
17 years old || Male || He / they || 5′ 11″ || Native American || Heterosexual
Reiko Wakabayashi - A hardworking surgeon traveling overseas to perform surgeries for the less fortunate. She was a child prodigy, and as such, had a lot of pressure put on her to succeed; pressure that has resulted in a constant need to do well and please everyone else. Although she’s quite quiet, she’s fine with large groups, and loves to have her ear talked off by someone who’s passionate about someone. She cares deeply for children, women, and weak or ill people.
27 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 6″ || Japanese || Asexual
“Rusty” - A runaway fleeing the law and their past. He’s plagued by several problems with his health, including blindness, an extremely low weight, and a whole host of diseases. Because of these problems, he tries to remain in one place for as long as he can to restore his stamina, but he refuses to stay somewhere for longer than two weeks. He resembles a skeleton. They’re constantly paranoid, avoiding human contact as much as possible and relying only on their own intuition and four working senses to help them.
25 years old || Demiboy || He / they || 5′ 9″ || Korean-American || Pansexual
Sam Fields - A mechanic working at their family-owned autobody shop. They spend most of their time holed away in the garage, hard at work, smeared with oil and gasoline. Most of their skeleton is metal and most of their skin is covered in burn scars due to a past accident. They’re social and warm, and very physically affectionate. They can be reckless, even if they’re warned about dangers.
25 years old || Non-binary || They / them || 5′ 7″ || American || Bisexual
Shira Hadley - A pickpocket who’s normally only found darting through crowds, stealing trinkets and jewelry, and before someone can realize something’s gone, she’s already vanished. She had her vocal cords cut as a teenager, resulting in her being completely unable to communicate outside of noises, half-uttered syllables, and gestures. Due to her constant fear of getting caught, she tends to stick to shadows, and is extremely paranoid when encountered by anyone.
21 years old || Female || She / her || 5′ 7″ || Dutch || Grey-Asexual
Volya Orlov - A DJ who’s famous at several different clubs. He’s rebellious and tough, but mostly friendly towards people on his side. A bizarre incident has altered his body to the point where he emits sparks when he gets emotional, which is why many of his friends call him “Sparkplug” or “Sparky”. He’s often spotted alone, but doesn’t mind company.
21 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 9″ || Russian || Heterosexual
William Simon - A child living with his older brother, who’s struggling to make ends meet. He recognizes the sacrifices his brother makes for him and wants to help, but is stopped and always told not to grow up too quickly. He often stays at his brother’s main workplace, a small cafe and diner, where he sits in the breakroom, coloring and talking with the other workers when they come in for their own breaks. He’s friendly, but cautious, having been taught to always be careful around others.
12 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 2″ || British || Asexual
Zenjiro Himura - A peculiar man whose family has owned and operated a combination butcher shop, deli, and restaurant in the heart of Kotohira, Kagawa for generations. He’s the eldest of sixteen siblings, all living and working with their mother. He’s approachable and friendly, but has a knack for getting excited over extremely macabre and disturbing things. As the oldest brother, he has an instinct to protect and care for anyone younger or weaker than he is.
26 years old || Male || He / him || 5′ 9″ || Japanese || Pansexual
#muses#oc's#rp muses#oh god there are so many#a lot of them are bisexual#but in my defense i am also bisexual
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Did Roman and Haley ever have any happy times?
Perfect
Being a CEO of a multi billion dollar corporation at eighteen, left a lot to be desired. He’d only been in charge for a few months, but between work, and being a father he felt like he was on his way to a nervous breakdown.
What he was doing walking through a park, when he should be getting his ass to work, was anyone’s guess, but something made him pull over and go to “their” tree.
(Flashback)
“Hey rich boy! My mom said that your daddy rather be dead than married to your mom!” A short round little boy with red hair and snagged teeth yelled at the tall lone boy.
“I bet he killed himself cuz you’re such a loser!” A blonde friend of the red head snarled. Two more boys Behind them laughed loudly.
The beautiful tall boy just ignored them kicking the dirt under his expensive shoes. Although he couldn’t be more than 9 or 10 he carried himself like someone that had seen far more in his life than his years should allow.
“HEY!!!” A high pitched voice took them all by surprise.
Roman (that was the beautiful boys name) looked up to see a beautiful, slightly dirty girl about his age. with golden pigtails that were crooked, yet still framed her delicate face, and big blue eyes, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. She looked furious, and Roman secretly prayed she wasn’t mad at him. He’d never admit to being scared of a girl, but this girl made him feel uncharacteristically nervous.
“Oh man! Tell your bratty cousin to go away,” the red haired boy moaned.
“EXCUSE ME? Bratty? Brat-ty? You’re gonna pay!” With that, she grabbed a fallen branch that was long and wispy and started to mercilessly whip the red haired boy with it.
“Mike! Matt! Control her or I’ll -“ the boy yelled in between whacks.
Mike and Matt looked at one another and then ran away laughing, leaving their friend to deal with the crazy girl.
The blonde boy lurched forward to grab the girl but was blocked by Roman. “Mind your business rich boy!” He yelled before landing a punch square on Romans jaw, dazing him a bit.
“Run! Let’s ditch these freaks!” The blonde yelled and the two boys took off together, not once looking back.
Roman rubbed his face and turned to leave but then felt a small hand gently grab his arm. “You ok? Let me take a look at you. My mommy is a nurse!”
Roman stared wide eyed at the girl, but didn’t fight her efforts. He watched her as she examined him from different angles, noting how her pigtails swayed with every move of her head. She gently ran her fingers over the already swelling lump and winced when he fliched.
“Open your mouth and close it.” She instructed.
He obliged her and was rewarded with her dimpled smile. “It isn’t anything permanent. You’ll be ok.”
“Are you really related to the twins?” He asked distastefully.
“My aunt married their dad yesterday. That’s why we are in town so I guess I’m related to them now. They’re all jerks, I heard what they said to you. My daddy died too”
“I bet not on purpose like mine tho.”
“Mommy said it was an accident, but he died of too much medicine and he was a doctor.”
“That seems weird. Maybe he was bad at it.” Roman tried to reassure her. Comforting anyone besides his sister was strange to him.
“Do you want to be my friend? I’m Hailey. They named a comet after me!” She giggled, dancing around.
She was magnetic. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she spun and twirled to a song only she could here. Although it was far more silly behavior than he was used to, it was refreshing. In a world as dark as Romans, it wasn’t often he found a source of light besides Shelly. But that realization made him worry his darkness would extinguish her light.
“I’m Roman and nobody is friends with me. You don’t wanna get made fun of.” He said forlornly. He liked this girl very much, but didn’t want to see her get picked on because of him. He expected her to leave, but she surprised him again.
“Nonsense! We’re a team you and I!” She sang, grabbing his hand and running to nowhere in particular. He couldn’t do anything but follow.
She smiled back at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. He knew his nanny would be mad he’d run off, but he wanted to spend all the time he could with this strange girl. They ran till they were out of breath, and then fell into the grass, rolling down a small hill. He got up and tried to brush off his clothes without much success. He wasn’t supposed to ever get dirty.
Still giggling, Hailey picked some flowers nearby and made a crown, before marching over, and placing it on his head. “There, now you’re king and no one can be mean to you ever again!”
Roman smiled for the umpteenth time since he’d met this strange girl, and took the crown off, and placed it on her head, “if I’m king, then you’re my queen and my queen will always have the best of everything.”
She laughed and then pecked him on the cheek before running away yelling, “tag you’re it.”
Just then his nanny marched into view “Roman Godfrey! What on earth are you doing over here with this urchin girl?” She said looking down at Hailey with distaste. “What would your mother think if she saw you with some dirty little girl, laughing and carrying on?”
Roman’s blood boiled. “Apologize to her right now!” He yelled.
“Excuse me? I never-“
“Apologize to my friend Hailey or I will tell my mother whatever I need to say, to make her make sure I get another nanny.” He bit out.
The older woman looked unsure as her eyes snapped between the two juveniles in front of her, trying to decide what action to take. Her eyes met Roman’s and it was as if her mind went blank as her face lost all semblance of any emotion.
“Apologize now.” Roman growled.
Hailey watched as the woman turned toward her, walked over in front of her, dropped to her knees and begged her forgiveness. Hailey was so surprised, she didn’t know what to say. She looked over at Roman in embarrassment, but forgot her predicament completely when she noticed blood falling from his nose.
“Oh my God Roman! You’re bleeding! What happened?” She panicked running over to him, unsure of what to do.
“I don’t know, i got this terrible pain in my head and it just started to bleed,” he said helplessly, with nothing on hand to curb the bleeding.
“I have an idea,” Hailey cried out as she sat down and removed her shoe and sock. “Here use my sock, it’s better than nothing.”
He hesitantly took the sock from her outstretched hand and pressed it against his nose. He was surprised to not smell any foul odor. He didn’t want to think about what he was doing though so he checked on his nanny, who was still on her knees, staring dumbly off into the distance.
“Well I better go back, I was only supposed to be getting Matt and mike for dinner so they’re probably wondering where I am.” She looked down at the ground sadly, not yet leaving, but seemingly out of words.
“Will you be here tomorrow?” Roman asked hopefully. “I mean I owe you a pair of socks.”
Hailey smiled, and tapped her finger on her lip thoughtfully, “well then I better make sure I’m here to collect.” She waved goodbye and then ran the direction the twins had gone.
(End flashback)
That had been the happiest time in his life. They had spent everyday together, exploring and going on adventures. Roman was kind of figuring out he could make the nanny do whatever he wanted, and eventhough the pain he felt when he pushed her to do as he pleased, Hailey made it all worthwhile.
Then one day she was gone. The twins would only tell him that her mother and her had moved away and were never coming back. Even when Roman tried the eyes trick, they had no answers. They honestly had no idea where they’d gone, and said her mother had fought with their stepmom and stormed out in the middle of the night.
Now here he was, nearly eight years later, standing by that same tree unable to forget that girl. For whatever reason, he’d never forgotten her and eventhough he’d since had just about any woman he wanted, none of them made him miss her less.
He had a reputation as a man whore and he supposed it was probably true but fucking all those women and then casting them aside, was never his intention. On the contrary, he actually was just looking for that feeling he’d felt when Hailey had taken his hand, and run off with him. But instead of feeling completely happy, he felt like he had betrayed Hailey, and he was disgusted with himself and whatever girl was not Hailey. He was insane!
Wasn’t he?
He chuckled as he felt the first few rain drops fall, marvelling at the whole situation, wondering who was in charge of his destiny. Whoever they were, they’re Terrible at it, he decided as he turned around to get back to his truck before the sky opened up. It was bad enough he was late, he didn’t want to be soaking wet as well.
Then he saw her and he froze. Eventhough they had changed and grown in nearly a decade, he knew without a doubt, Hailey was standing before him. He desperately wanted to say something, and honestly was a bit taken aback by his sudden case of cat-got-your-tongue, so he forced out exactly what he was thinking. He took a deep breath. Then another, trying to get his composure back. He appeared far more cool than he felt. He tried to speak again.
“Hailey I’ve missed you everyday,” he stated in a confident clear voice, that sounded far too human. Far too vulnerable for his liking. He mentally slapped himself, but he couldn’t look away from her. He felt that magnetic pull, except it was so strong, it was almost painful. He’d never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted this girl, and dammit Roman Godfrey got whatever he put his mind to.
She blushed the most beautiful shade of pink, and he nearly giggled with glee when those dimples appeared as she smiled warmly at him.
“Do you want to go somewhere? We’re gonna catch our death standing here in the rain I think.” She teased.
He had completely forgot it was raining, unable to see or feel anything beyond her presence. Feeling like a complete idiot, he grabbed her hand like she had done so many years ago, and jogged over to his waiting vehicle. Opening her door first, he helped her inside, and then ran around to his side.
He started the truck and turned on the heat for her, feeling suddenly very self conscious and almost shy. Roman Godfrey never felt self conscious but he wanted to impress her so badly, and was so pleased she was actually sitting in his truck, he was beside himself. He decided he must be in shock. But do people that are in shock, know they are in shock? He wasn’t sure and when he looked over at her, he realized she’d asked him something and was waiting expectantly for an answer. Several moments passed, and she rolled her eyes and smiled, grabbing his hand and making him jump.
“Are you okay? Roman right? You must be him. I google you now and then. The twins won’t ever tell me anything about you. They’re such assholes.” Suddenly she slapped the hand not holding his hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, you probably think I’m like a stalker now...”
Roman chuckled, and reached over pulling her hand away from her mouth. “Don’t hide your face from me, you’re beautiful. And if you want to stalk me, I can have my assistant send you my schedule. Do you have a cell phone?”
“No. I don’t really have anything. I-“ she paused, frowning as whatever she had to say, seemed to be stuck in her throat.
Sensing her discomfort, he pressed forward, “how long are you visiting? Please don’t tell me you’re leaving soon.”
“Well I can tell you that much. I’m NOT leaving anytime soon. My mother died in a fire. Our house burned down while I was staying at a friends house and I guess she didn’t wake up or wasn’t able to get out. Now I have to live with my only family that’s willing to take me, eventhough there’s far too many people in that house already. I am thankful for Aunt Peggy though, she is such a nice lady. Her kids are all jerks but maybe they’ll warm up to me. I don’t know.” She continued. “I start school on Monday, and I have been out looking for a job today since I have nothing and I don’t want to put them out anymore than I already am.”
She looked at him nervously, and tried for a weak smile, but he could see the unshed tears threatening to spill.
Roman had to fight from smiling with every ounce of self control he had. He was elated. She was not leaving, her mother was out of the way, her remaining family couldn’t really accommodate her, she had nothing and no one. She needed him.
This. Was. Perfect.
He had to play it right though. He didn’t want to scare her off now that she was back. She was his. She might not know it yet, but she would be his, and his only. He felt the most violently possessive flash through him at the thought of anyone else with her. He would protect her and keep her safe from everyone and everything.
“Remember when you made me that flower crown, and then you gave me your sock?” He asked her smiling seductively at her.
She chuckled like a little song and blushed again. “Yes! I had no idea you were the kid that owned the whole town!”
“It was sweet of you and now I’m going to return the favor. I still owe you a pair of socks, and add like 8 years of interest on top and by God you’ve got yourself a pretty decent wardrobe.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “Oh no Roman! You don’t have to buy me anything! I’m just happy to have found you again. I’ll make do.”
“I don’t like owing people, and you just went through so much. Please let me get you at least a few things for school. Few outfits, some shoes, a few bags, nothing major. I’m a billionaire so I can afford it and nothing would make me happier than to help.” He made a pouty face and playfully put his hands together like he was praying.
She beamed up at him and before he knew it she was on top of him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She repeated against his chest, nuzzling into him as she unconsciously crawled completely in his lap, not once letting go.
She began to shudder a bit and he realized she was crying. He didn’t say anything, he just rubbed her back and held her while she got it out of her system. He smiled into her hair, and realized she smelled like lavender.
He loved the smell of lavender.
She was perfect.
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Gregstophe Week: Day 5
TIRED // BED // FAKE DATING AU
TITLE: The Unclaimed
WARNINGS: Swearing, nudity, sex mention.
AGE: Adults. (Early 20s )
NOTES: This is sorta' a prequel thing for my Good Dog story. But you don't need to have read it to enjoy this little snippet thing.
Smoke lazily trailed up from the smoldering tip of a cigarette, clasped between two calloused fingers. Christophe needed a smoke as realization of where he was dawned on him, this was the one place he didn't want to wake up in. His free hand scrubbed at his face, feeling the rasp of a five o clock shadow against his palm, hinting that he needed to shave. Right now, he didn't feel like standing up off the edge of the bed he sat on, despite every instinct within him telling him that he should leave right then before he had to face the reality of what happened. He couldn't leave, he was out on a mission so there was no real possible escape.
He raised his cigarette up to his lips, taking a heavy pull from it as he looked over his shoulder, spying the reason behind his ever growing migraine. Gregory was still sound asleep, arms curled around Christophe's pillow, a good enough replacement to keep the man asleep. Christophe was not quite ready to face Gregory just yet. He needed time to think and process out how he'd came to be in Gregory's bed, stark naked and aching all over. The best thing he could do was start from the beginning and try to follow down the path of increasingly bad decisions. Doing that though, required his head to stop pounding.
He needed to get up, one problem at a time, think too much about everything would only make his headache worse. Clenching his jaws, he pushed himself up to his feet, the move alone had his entire body screaming in protest. He should have expected this much, though he thought he was used to such brutality done to his body, this was something completely different than being in a fist fight with a group of thugs. Then again Gregory was always creative when he wanted to hurt someone, mentally or physically. Though it was unusual for him to get his hands dirty, leaving most of that to Christophe. When it came to the Frenchman, it seemed Gregory couldn't keep his damn hands to himself.
Doing some sort of odd shuffling, limping walk, Christophe stubbornly made his way to the bathroom. Usually the medical bag he hauled with him every was stored here, it sat on the marble counter where he last put it. He reached for it, but his gaze caught sight of his reflection of his hand in the mirror. Slowly, his eyes traced up his arms, seeing the bruises, it looked like Gregory had managed to bind his wrists up a little too tightly with something. Figures as Gregory probably wouldn't have managed to get away with what he did so easily. More various bruises dotted his olive skin, handprints, bite marks, hickies, it was chaos. Gregory had been a absolute madman, making Christophe furrow his brows in annoyed concern.
Staring at himself in the mirror, he could see the extent of the damage. It was like Gregory had been desperate in his need to leave his mark on Christophe. Like a wild animal, making bits and pieces of last night flash across his mind, a frenzy gone too quick for Christophe to properly grasp a hold of. It made his body warm up uncomfortably, but he was too tired to really be aroused by it. He squeezed his eyes shut, giving a rub of one of his temples, hoping to ease the sharp pain in his head, making it feel like his skull was cracking open. Finally, he yanked his medical bag closer, digging through it until he found a small cylinder of pain killers. He tossed more than the recommended dose into his mouth.
Leaning down, he turned the faucet on, drinking straight from the tap, not bothering with using one of the hotel's provided cups. It would take a bit for the medicine to work, so in the mean time he turned the water off and the lights, sending the bathroom into darkness. Placing his hands on the counter, he eased some of the weight off his admittedly weakened legs. There was a pain that he wasn't personally familiar with, but he had been aware of it because he wasn't an oblivious dumbass. It was a constant reminder that Gregory had been a literal pain in his ass last night. Fitting, really.
Though why Christophe had allowed Gregory to take things that far was something he needed to investigate, so he knew what to look out for and avoid in the future. They'd been at a club last night, a stake out waiting for one of the men employed under the local drug lord, someone who could give them the information they needed to get to the boss himself. They had heard he liked to visit the club often, so they had planned to get him too drunk to resist getting taken and then interrogate him in one of the old fishing shacks in the warf. In the meantime, they had to blend in. A tourist couple, a flamboyant, fun loving guy with his more serious partner. At least Gregory hadn't asked Christophe to actually play a nice, cheery tourist.
Gregory's outgoing personality drew other club goers in, it was a crowd of drunkards and Christophe had been pressed to drink more and more to keep up the act at least. He couldn't remember if their guy had even shown up, his memory had grown fuzzy at this point. Christophe could handle a bit of alcohol, but usually just acted like he drank a lot, this had just got out of hand. Even Gregory looked like he was losing himself to alcohol. So the culprit had been drinks, no surprise there, Christophe had to be a absolute dumbass to sleep with Gregory. The last thing he needed was to be tangled in Gregory's web, to have his collar slowly tightened around his neck until it was difficult to breathe without the man.
It was no real secret to either of them that there was sexual tension between them, Gregory was a huge tease with anyone he could lure in. Christophe had always resisted, which only excited Gregory more. The thrill of the chase and all. Christophe hated to admit that he liked it, if things weren't so complicated, maybe he would've given in. This wouldn't be such a big deal, but it was. Gregory was a man of sophistication, a figurehead in society. Not to mention a playboy. Christophe was a nobody and since their childhood, their relationship had been basically Gregory the master and Christophe the attack dog. Simple as that and no need to muddy it up with complicated emotions.
That was just scratching the surface of his problems, getting intimate could never just be a physical thing between them, it was a time when they were both exposed to each other, where they could be their true selves and not what they projected to the outside world. Christophe didn't like being vulnerable to anyone, he couldn't let himself get hurt like that. He enjoyed physical pain all too much, but a pain where he couldn't see or touch was the worst. Gregory had been the only one to have dealt such damage to him. Christophe couldn't let his suppressed feelings get in the way again. It was just easier to keep himself sane if he viewed himself simply as a tool and nothing more.
Suddenly, the lights flicked on, burning Christophe's eyes before he could close them and causing a spike of jabbing pain behind them. He swore out under his breath, raising his hand to further shield his eyes from the light when his eyelids hadn't been enough. It was a mistake on his part as it left him open, allowing a arm to snake its way around his waist, feeling smooth skin brush along his own darker skin, roughed with ridges made from scars. The touch was firm, confident and the utmost possessive, drawing him back so he no longer leaned on the counter but against the front of a familiar chest. Though it was strange to feel skin on his own, he was very self-conscious about his body, allowing no one to see his torso exposed.
This was Gregory though and while he did trust the other man, he still didn't want to be seen naked. His lip curled in a silent snarl of distaste, able to feel Gregory was just as bare as himself. A tempting bit of information, but the constant ache of his body was a reminder why falling for temptation was a bad idea, especially right now.
"Mm, what a disappointing feel to wake up and your lover is gone from your arms." Gregory mumbled, his voice thick with sleep still, almost endearing. Almost. Gregory's face tucked itself against Christophe's neck, his lips brushing over the previous night's markings, his teeth grazing over abused flesh as if tempted to leave more marks if he weren't still waking up. A tease if Christophe ever felt one.
"Lovers would imply that I care about you, fuckin' asshole." Christophe growled out, needing something to do to divert his attention away from Gregory, least he be lured in again. Already, Gregory's hands were roaming the front of his torso, causing his scarred flesh to twitch as if trying to avoid being touched. Christophe couldn't blame his body, it had only ever felt pain and thus expected as much. Pain would be a deterrent to most and generally the same went for Christophe, but when it was coming from Gregory, there was a twisted, sickening pleasure to it.
"That's not what you said last night, love." The endearment was meant as a jab at him as Gregory's teeth worried the lobe of one of Christophe's ear, whispering with his voice raspy from sleep. Though what Gregory had said made Christophe tense, what had he told Gregory last night? Had he made a absolute fool of himself? Thinking with his dick was one thing, thinking with his heart was a death sentence.
"I was fuckin' plastered and so were you. What happened last night was a god damn mistake." With the splitting migraine, Christophe's very little patience was running thin. He had planned on taking a shower, but with the way Gregory was acting, that was out of the question now that the Brit was in the bathroom with him. He'd just have to deal with the feel of dried sweat and the musk of sex on his body until he could get some alone time.
"A mistake?" The was a hint of danger in Gregory's tone, Christophe had hit something sensitive. Good. The bastard deserved it. Did he honestly think Christophe would ever intentionally have sex with him? That alone was insanity, he knew Gregory was mad, but not to the level he'd believe his charm could work on Christophe. Then again, it wasn't Gregory's sickeningly false charm that kept Christophe close. There was just some unspoken bond between them, one Christophe couldn't properly describe but knew that being that closely tied with someone was dangerous and taking it lightly would be a mistake.
Christophe wasn't in the mood to explain all the reason why sex with each other was a bad idea to Gregory, the blond was smart enough to puzzle them all out on his own eventually. For now, Christophe needed space, shoving Gregory's arm away, surprised when it gave so easily. He expected more of a fight from Gregory, the Brit wasn't used to not getting what he wanted and would fight to keep what he thought was his. For now, he let Christophe go, knowing a fight between them would go fifty-fifty. Though with Christophe's body hurting, it would likely be more in Gregory's favor, whose pale skin was unblemished, much to Christophe's annoyance. He should've left marks of his own, but he wrote it off as Gregory probably not letting him at the time.
He didn't linger on the idea, because he promised himself never to leave his mark on Gregory.
#gregstophe#gregstopheweek#south park#gregory#christophe#fanfic#fanfictione#good dog#grown up#au#alternate universe#gregory of yardale#the mole#ze mole
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It Comes Around
I am, in fact, not simply made of fluff and rainbow gumdrops~
Hinges creaked on the door as it swung wide open. With a soft thump, the thick wooden panel hit the wall to reveal the interior of the building. Familiar arching ceilings; pillars that stood the test of time, planters and drapery fit for the wealthy. Dark colors contrasted with bright in a well-organized method that had only changed slightly since his father had been alive.
Everything had a layer of dust on it. From the carpet to the marble flooring; on planters filled with facade plants and upon tables and knick-knacks left behind. In the fine dirt that lay on the ground, sets of various footsteps with lesser-amounts of dust were interweaving around from the previous entrants into the household.
He’d left in such a haste that some trinkets had been left behind. Not particularly valuable, of course. Seeing them however again, at long last, was a comfort in some ways. With a look of brief fondness, the Lord of Briarton reached out to run his fingers across one of the ornaments.
His glove came away filthy. He muttered something to himself unpleasantly about the lack of cleanliness.
As he looked up, he spotted the shuffling bunch of characters walking past him now. At the helm was Abernathy, with Sulhadur, Adela, Cackle, and Ilamin following not too far behind. They seemed intent on their directions; heading across the foyer to the hall that branched off on the right.
Snapping his head around, Amon looked pointedly for Ravamora among the group. His instinct told him she’d be swiping something beneath his nose, and instead he was surprised to see her evaluating his décor with distaste.
The other elf he’d only barely spoken to; Penimra he believed his name was, stood at the entrance with seemingly little interest. That suited The Illiad heir just fine. He had enough trouble on his hands keeping an eye on the other’s; and judging by the bizarre nature of this particular elf, he’d rather not take his chances.
Speaking of which.
Not wanting to leave the others while also wanting to examine his manor, Amon pivoted on his heel to follow after. He’d barely managed a step when someone went sprinting past him; rushing even past Abernathy in a hurry.
He frowned to himself at the sudden urgency. With her cape billowing past her, Essätha was off into the next room within seconds.
A nauseating feeling churned in his stomach. Just a glimpse at her expression; fearful, worried, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.
What did she know?
With haste, Amon caught up quickly with the company into the room over. He moved past the cluster curiously, only coming to a halt as he spotted Essie on her knees.
Her cape was off and placed on an ashen pile on the floor she attempted to cover. There was a look of deep regret in her face.
She looked up to catch his eye. Before she looked away, a glimmer of shame written in her features.
He shoved Cackle aside by mistake in his rush; but her protesting squawk meant little to him. Within seconds Amon was on his knees; slamming down heavily that caused a jolt of pain to bolt through his spine. He gritted his teeth in response to the pain.
His hand reached out. Just barely trembling his digits grasped the cape.
A hand laid upon his own. He didn’t even need to see it to know who; dark scales on the back of her hand or not. The softness alone was the best indicator.
“I’m sorry, Lord Amon.” Her voice was a charming melody. Hypnotic; almost spell-binding.
It was enough to make him wonder if he was being charmed. But somehow, he knew better.
“There was nothing we could do for her,” Essie spoke quietly. “She… was already… when we got here-”
A strangled noise escaped his throat.
“Leave me.”
“Amon-”
“Leave. Me.” He managed to whisper out despite the lump in his throat. “Please.”
The hand upon his retracted gradually. It took some effort not to look up. Torn between the need to apologize, and the need to keep his eyes away for his own sake.
He’d been seen weak and vulnerable enough as of late.
He didn’t need to be seen, a grown man, weeping.
He didn’t want to see the hurt in Essätha’s eyes as he pushed her away.
As she stood, her shadow fell over him for a moment. There was hesitation, before her boots were echoing down the hall as she directed those who were in the room to leave.
Someone was muttering to themselves. He couldn’t make out the words, but a telltale hiss from Essie and it was easy to assume about what.
Frankly, he was too damn empty inside to care.
As soon as the door had shut behind the traveling adventurers, he bowed his head over the cape. His fingers trembled. The debate on removing it from her frame and leaving it respectfully there raged within him. From the surrounding area of blackened soot, one could tell what had become of the remains.
“Oh, Pelor… Maria… I’m so sorry…”
This was all his fault.
A prayer in his thoughts, and the first tears shed and fell on the worn piece of apparel laying over the poor lost soul.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was some time later when Amon finally opened the door to the foyer again.
Honestly, he’d thought they’d have wandered by now. He hadn’t taken forever; but certainly most of this group appeared to have little attention span.
Those sitting moved to stand, and those standing perked up.
Essätha; the closest to the door, clasped her hands in front of herself and wrung her hands anxiously. Her teeth nibbled into her lip nervously. Guilty; a look of concern in her eyes too.
Amon gave an inclination of his head backwards.
“Let’s get this over with.”
The lumbering Abernathy walked by first; putting his hand briefly on his shoulder. There was a soft apology that escaped the man as he walked by.
The other’s followed in; most quiet, some accusing in their gazes.
He could take it. His shoulders squared, daring to look them in the eye, even.
Then the final one came by.
It was hard to explain Essätha. There was so much heartache in the way she looked at him. So much worry. Like she genuinely cared.
But then there were those instances he caught something that felt…
Something that felt like a memory.
If the people called him cursed, then her look almost certainly said haunted.
She reached as Abernathy had to touch him, but instead gave an apologetic glance; lifting her eyes but not her face, and walked past.
A small portion of him instantly withered inside. He tried to shake the feeling away best he could.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Amon didn’t know how he’d ended up down in the cellar. He’d had no intentions of coming down here; at least, he didn’t think so. He’d simply been following his feet where they lead.
A look around the dark area, and he couldn’t see but a few feet in front of him. The light from the open door spilled down but didn’t allow for enough to see much else than some of the crates not far from the stairwell.
Cursing, he rummaged around, briefly in the dark. By some strangely convenient method, there happened to be a candle left behind nearby and a tinder kit.
Well, they had said they’d come down here, as he recalled.
Rolling his eyes at the irresponsible party, Amon lit one of the candles and stepped deeper into the darkness.
Faint, flicking light cast upon the crates he stepped by. One appeared ajar, but he didn’t stare at it long. His eyes were brought across the chamber with shame, to be placed upon the opening to the family crypt. Still ajar; a cold, damp draft seemed to emit from him.
And the shape he’d been following. He recalled that silhouette.
“Essätha?”
She jumped, turning back to him. The reflection of her eyes a disturbing red-tinted glow.
“Essätha, please,” his voice felt strained. “Step out from the crypt.”
Instant remorse on her face. The Illiad heir felt terrible within seconds. He didn’t wish to belittle or reprehend, but he felt sick even looking in the direction of his sin from so long ago.
He was the shameful one here.
She opened her mouth to speak. The words didn’t leave her mouth as his candle flame suddenly twirled and ominously dimmed.
Slack-jawed, Amon stepped back as a blue, smoky figure began to form at the entrance to the crypt. Wisps like a fog emerged around the face that kept him up at night.
It taunted him. Smiling with twisted delight.
“So, the little worm returns,” an echoing voice sneered; surrounding him.
“F-Fontane?”
“Oh, you recognize me,” the young man hummed. “Thirty years had passed. I’d hoped I didn’t age too much.”
Pelor, they hadn’t been lying.
But the bones. They’d been laid to rest. They’d been blessed; he’d been given a proper funeral. Why this? Why was he still here?
“Not happy to see me?” Fontane goaded; his voice mocking.
Legs shaking, Amon began to move as though to get on his knees.
“Fontane, I’m so sorr-”
“Don’t apologize to me!” the echoing voice roared.
Filled with terror and eyes wide like saucers, Amon jerked upward. He stood erect, cowering away from the furious and blazing eyes of the ghost.
“You left me here to die,” the aura of Fontane seethed. “And you get your perfect little life; your family house, your money, all your charms and trinkets.”
“Fontane, I-”
“You deserve none of it!”
Cringing, Amon took a hesitant step back. The light of his candle was hardly there now. Only the light of Fontane; a blistering blue sun, defiantly lit the area.
The features of anger smoothed over slightly on the ghostly form. Instead, he seemed to straighten his posture with dignity. He floated around to position himself in order to look to Essätha as well as him.
“What a waste of you to protect this disgusting filth, my dear,” he stated with a pitying look.
Amon looked from her to Fontane. His stomach was in knots. Essätha’s expression was one of fear and uncertainty.
Turning his glaring eyes back to Amon, Fontane spoke with confident mockery now: “I’ve been watching you since you entered the building. I see the way you look at her.”
The unsettled feeling only grew in Amon’s chest.
“She’s quite a delight, isn’t she?” Fontane practically purred, gazing to her. “She was the one who wanted to help me. She was the one who wanted to listen.”
“And you couldn’t get a sweeter face.”
Essätha took a step back, discomfort shining in her glistening eyes.
Twisting a sadistic grin, he turned to Amon once more.
“Do you want to curse her too? Is that it?”
His mouth was bone dry. Petrified, he could only stare.
“We both know the sort of man you are, worm,” Fontane growled with distaste. “You’re a cold-blooded killer. You’re a savage. You’re a monster; and you’re a liar. Every step you take, you bring a domino of unfortunate steps closing in on every direction.”
“But what’s more causality to you, right? What’s one more lost soul?”
Essie exhaled, speaking in a whisper, “Fontane-”
“Ahh- hush dear, I’m not finished,” he stated, raising a finger to her like speaking to a naughty child.
Amon swallowed loudly. “Fontane, I hadn’t meant-”
“You didn’t mean to. It was an accident. All these pretty little lies you tell yourself. But I digress; you know well the sort of pain you inflict on everyone who comes in contact with you. You know the sort of hell you will bring her. But you are selfish and stupid. There’s nothing good about you; nothing gentle, nothing caring or filled with kindness.”
“But if you wish to curse her,” he warned, his voice soft and menacing. “Allow me to help you speed the process along.”
The bluish light of Fontane’s aura seemed to grow brighter; almost a pale periwinkle.
The walls of the crypt began to break away in segments and chunks of large earth. Crumbling an alarming rate suddenly. A sudden surge of energy washed through the underground cemetery as the ground began to buckle and sway; jumping and rocking like a boat.
Amon caught sight of the horror in Essätha’s face as she was forced back, further into the cave as the walls and ceilings began to fall all around her.
“No!”
He ran forward; it was all he could think to do. Straight through the laughing face of his deceased step-brother; straight towards the chaos of the collapsing walls.
An enormous section of the ceiling came crashing down right in front of him; taking with it the last glimpse of Essätha’s frightened face.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
With suddeness, Amon’s eyes opened wide as he sat up.
His gaze looked around, dazed and confused. The soft surface beneath him; after a disorienting moment, was confirmed to be a bed. Comfortable blankets were on him, a pillow below him.
He raked a hand through his hair and down his face, sighing heavy and loud.
Just a dream. Only a dream.
After a few deep breathes with his eyes closed, he bothered to look around once more. Still a bedroom. No ghosts, no falling debris, no cellar.
He looked at the arm over his chest as it captured his attention. Slowly, his sweeping gaze following it to the loosely curled up bundle beside him. Mouth slightly parted, hair thrown everywhere in a tangled mess.
His heart stammered in his chest and finally settled into rhythm once more.
Pelor, she was… glorious.
A striking sense of fear sat upon him just as swiftly.
Sighing once more, he laid back in the bed to put an arm over his face. Breath in, breath out.
After a few breathes, he finally tossed his arm aside. Tilting his head, he looked over to Essätha.
A vulnerable, innocent sleeping face.
Amon rolled onto his side with a grunt. Sliding an arm beneath her and against her back, he lifted her up slightly despite some groggy, still-sleeping murmurs. Her eyelids flutter slightly, but with some encouragement and maneuvering, he managed to pull her into him.
Essie nestled against his chest with a drowsy exhale; body folded into his frame neatly as she settled back to sleep. Arms against her chest, legs against his.
Gradually, he wrapped his arms around her protectively. The sound of his heart a heavy drum beating in his chest as slight trembles moved through him. Each breath just as uneven and unsure as the last.
Tucking her head against his chest, he placed his chin on top of her head. Stray black hairs tickle his face. He smoothed them down with a few gentle strokes of his shaky hand, placing a kiss to the top of her head lightly.
It was only a bad, horrible nightmare. She was safe.
And he was going to make sure she stayed that way, damned or not.
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Secrets Chapter 4
((So, this ties into my Black sister origin head canon. If you wanna know more, here it is:
https://littleproudhufflepuff.tumblr.com/post/168088325204/the-black-sisters-origins-and-why-bellatrix-was ))
Finding a Reason to Stay
Her bedroom looked so foreign, although it was familiar not too long ago. The clock ticked on her wall, like it usually did, but now every tick seemed to get unbearably louder. She could do nothing but look out her window, wait for their House Elf to give her food, and think about what a terrible person she was. What hurt her the most was knowing that she wasn't doing anything wrong. There was nothing wrong with loving someone. There was nothing wrong with Ted wanting to take care of her and the baby when it came.
She put a hand on her stomach, constantly amazed at how much she's grown. She suspected she was pregnant when she noticed a change in her mood and physical appearance. Naturally, she told Ted first, knowing that he would be just as frazzled and scared. They tried keeping a secret as best as they could, but it became too difficult to conceal. So, when Andromeda decided to tell Narcissa in confidence, her sister immediately told their mother, which resulted in her being taken out of school.
No matter how many times her family asked, Andromeda never revealed who the father was. She knew that if she did, Ted would not be safe. Even when Bellatrix came along, she kept her mouth shut.
That didn't bode well with her older sister. Instead, Bellatrix would use other methods of "erasing the problem".
There was a swift knock on her door.
"Come in," Andromeda said softly. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was. After all, Bellatrix liked to make sudden appearances and invade Andromeda's space very often nowadays.
"This place is filthy," her sister's voice rang with distaste. "And I'm not just talking about you. What have you been doing up here?"
Andromeda's heart sank as she felt tears creep up into her eyes. She did not want to show fear or vulnerability when Bellatrix spat terrible insults her way. It was not pleasant, being on the other side of ostracizing a group of people. It felt wrong. It was wrong. She knew that now.
Bellatrix's heels clicked closer until she was sitting right next to Andromeda on the bed. Andromeda flinched when Bellatrix touched her stomach. "How's the little half-breed doing?"
"Stop," she heard herself say. She tried turning around, but Bellatrix was persistent.
She grabbed her stomach and bent her head down. "What's that? You blood traitor mother thinks she has the right to be disobedient? Aw, it's not your fault." She kissed Andromeda's stomach. "But don't worry. She will pay for her wrongdoing."
Andromeda darted out of her bed, clenching her fists. "I didn't do-"
"Anything wrong?" Bellatrix finished, also standing up, eyes wide and manic. She chuckled. "You have been brainwashed then. The Mudblood brainwashed you."
"I have not been brainwashed, Bella," she exasperated. "It's you who has been brainwashed."
"Me?" she laughed, slowly sauntering over to Andromeda. "I am not the one who fucked a Mudblood. You have to be crazy to even think about talking to one, knowing that Black blood is the purest of them all. You have betrayed the very essence of our family." She was inches away from Andromeda's face. Andromeda instinctively held onto her stomach with one hand and her wand in the other. Bellatrix looked down at the young mother's protective stance, and gave an evil smirk. "But there is a way to let all of this go away…"
"I won't tell," Andromeda declared quickly.
Bellatrix's wand was now piercing Andromeda's lower abdomen, making her suddenly go very still. "I know," Bellatrix whispered. "But you see, I've learned a lot over the years from a magnificent wizard." She caressed her wand slowly up to Andromeda's temple. "I don't need you to tell me. I can get it out of you, whether you want to or not. But I wantto give you some dignity. You are still my sister after all."
"Bella…?"
"All you have to do is apologize for being a Muggle lover and give the child to me, and then all will be forgiven."
Andromeda stood her ground. "I won't give my child up to you!"
"Then how do you expect me to undo what you've done?" She smiled again, making Andromeda feel even more uncomfortable than before. "Auntie Bella will make sure the filth growing inside you understands the Black family way. We must have a legacy, and your act of stupidity might just have saved our family line from dying out."
"He's not a Black."
"Yes he is!" she shouted, causing Andromeda to flinch backwards against the wall. "Now, give me the Mudblood's name!"
"Bellatrix? Andromeda," came their mother's concerned voice from outside the room.
Bellatrix gave a frustrated huff and backed away just in time for Druella to walk in with a tray of food.
"I wasn't expecting you here again, Bella," she commented, placing the tray on Andromeda's bedside table. "I didn't hear you come in."
"You were doing the House Elf's work, mother, and I didn't want to disturb you." She walked over and gave Druella a kiss on the cheek. "Besides, I wanted to catch up with my dear sister." She paused, cocking her head to one side and scruitinzing Andromeda. "She's getting bigger; don't you think?"
Andromeda covered her stomach again and wiped her remaining tears away.
Druella smiled blankly. "You are definitely glowing, sweetheart."
"Well, I best be off," said Bellatrix suddenly.
"You won't stay for supper?"
"Sorry, but I have more important matters to attend to." After another eerie glance at a teary Andromeda, Bellatrix stalked out of the room.
"Are you comfortable, dear?" Druella asked.
Andromeda took a moment to gather a steady voice. "No," she answered honestly.
"Well, of course not. Look at these pillows!" Druella magicked Andromeda's pillows to fluff themselves as she stirred the soup. "Sit, sweetheart. You don't want your soup to get cold."
"Mother, I don't feel comfortable here," Andromeda confessed.
But her mother repeated gently, "Andy, sit."
She sat back down in her bed, noticing that her mother was in the same spot Bellatrix was sitting in a minute ago. But her mother did not have a harshness in her expression, which made it easier for Andromeda to pluck up the courage to talk.
"Bellatrix just threatened me again," her voice shook. "She said she had ways to get the information she needed. She wants-" she sobbed. "She wants to take the baby, mother."
"You soup is getting cold, dear."
"Aren't you listening to me?" Andromeda couldn't believe it. "She wants to kill the father and take my child! And no one sees how messed up that is?"
"You don't have to tell us who the father is. We can fix this another way."
"For the last time, Mum, I am not marrying Thorfinn Rowle! I can't marry someone I don't love." She shamelessly sobbed in front of her mother, not caring that she used the informal name for her mother during such a serious discussion.
Druella let her daughter cry for a while, and thought very hard about what she was going to say next. "Do you love him?"
Andromeda sniffled. "What?"
"Do you love the father?"
Embarrassed and weary that this was a trap, she thought of not answering truthfully. But what else could possibly happen to her that hasn't already? So, she nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "With all my heart, and I can't help it."
Druella looked conflicted and shifty-eyed. She shut the door and blinds quickly with her wand and put a silencing charm on the room. "I promised I would never speak of this again. Anyone hearing this would get us both into trouble."
"Mother?"
"I was in love once." This baffled Andromeda. She was not expecting her quiet, complacent mother had had a rough life. "I was young and found this really amazing man. The only problem was that he was Muggleborn. Back then, there was absolutely no tolerance mingling with Muggles and Muggleborns. It was taboo. But I couldn't help it. I was with the love of my life. But my family found out and shamed me. Bella was only two when they took her from me. I was forced to leave him. But not before I had you."
And then, all of a sudden, everything made sense. She never used to question her mother and father's age difference. But with this new information, she couldn't truly believe that the father she had known her whole life had her and her sister while he was still at Hogwarts while her mother was already ten years out of school.
"Mother, who's my real father?"
"Dead," she said plainly, teary-eyed. "But the Blacks took us in. I married Cygnus right as he left Hogwarts. He accepted me and we grew to love each other."
There was a piercing anticipation in the room.
"But I don't want that for you," she said, starting to cry silent tears. Her voice broke as she said, "I want you to have the life I couldn't have."
"Mother…?"
"I'm disowning you," she smiled and hugged her daughter tight. "Pack up your things and leave as soon as you can."
"No," cried Andromeda, surprised at this sudden change of events. "I don't want to lose you."
"I will always be with you. Knowing you're happy will make me happy." She brandished a large sack of money. Andromeda tried to give it back, but her mother pushed her off of the bed, not caring that she spilled the now cold soup. "I'm letting you go." Her mother expertly waved her wand around the room, packing up Andromeda's clothes. She caressed her daughter's distraught face. "You are so beautiful darling."
"Mother, please," she could barely muster. Her heart was breaking. "Don't do this."
Druella looked very torn, but reluctantly got up and walked toward the door.
"I love you, Mother!" Andromeda said desperately.
Her mother stopped in her tracks. Not turning back around, she whispered, "And I love you."
That was the last thing Andromeda ever heard her mother say.
Druella locked Andromeda in her room, knowing that she could do nothing but Apparate away. Andromeda banged the door, pleading for her mother to let her out. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave. She repeated these cries over and over, eventually getting tired and succumbing to sobbing on the floor, back against the door.
"Please, mother, I'm sorry," she whispered, now delirious. "I'll give the baby to Bellatrix. I'll tell you who the father is. I'll do anything…"
Druella, who never left the other side of the door, was an emotional mess. She hated that it has come to this, and wanted nothing more than to make everything go away. But this was, she figured, karma at its best. Because of her mistakes, she was forced to make them right. This was for Andromeda's safety after all. Bellatrix couldn't be saved, but there was still hope for Andromeda.
They both sat there, against opposite sides of the same door, for hours it seemed. Andromeda, exhausted and heartbroken, stroked her aching stomach. "I'm sorry," she mumbled to her unborn child. "I didn't mean the things I said. I want you." She felt the baby kick, and her face lit up a bit. "I love you," she admitted quietly. "And I want nothing but the best for you because-" She stopped herself, realization dawning. "-Because you're innocent."
Andromeda never understood the concept of a mother's love. But as she owled Ted to tell him that she was leaving her family for good, she realized it was the sacrifices that made it all worth while. Her mother wanted the same thing for her as she wanted for her child, and that fact suddenly made it easier to leave.
Druella, still listening to her daughter, heard a soft pop from the other side of the door, and smiled through her tears. She pulled her head back, evaluating her life. She knew it would be impossible for her to ever see or talk to Andromeda again, but she took comfort in knowing that she was safe and with the person she loved. After all, isn't that what a mother's love is for?
#tedromeda#andromeda black#ted tonks#ancient and most noble house of black#bellatrix lestrange#druella black#black family#Black Family Tree#secrets#Harry Potter#hp fanfiction
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