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lanafofana · 17 days

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The Faithwarden & The Archdruid

Day THREEEEEE of HalsinTavWeek is upon us, fam! Pairing: Halsin/Tav(F) Summary: When she is away, Tav wonders if Halsin misses her as much as she misses him. Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI Warnings/Tag: Voyeurism, Mutual Masturbation, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Post Epilogue No Beta We Die Like Yonas (RIP Yonas) And an AO3 link! For all who celebrate.

If Tav had had any idea of the kind of commitment involved with holding the title of Faithwarden, she might have just killed Khaga in cold blood where she stood. The woman had certainly made it tempting enough without the added threat of being named the equivalent of a druidic mediator, judge, and oracle.

When she said as much to Halsin the former archdruid had only given her the proudest, softest expression and assured her that she was the only druid he had ever met who was well suited to the task. Which might have just been, possibly, the least helpful thing he could have said.

The summons came from all over Faerûn and took her away from home from anywhere between a tenday to months on end. Settling disputes between groves, ousting unworthy leadership, and using her ironclad grasp of Silvanus’ teachings to guide, illuminate, and teach his servants.

Highest honor this. Under the eye of Silvanus himself that. It was godsdamned exhausting, is what it was.

Every time her duties kept her away from home for longer than a few days her skin itched to return. To ensconce herself in their house amongst the trees, rousing from her meditation and rolling on top of her lover, listening to the chatter of nature while she walked barefoot through the forest born anew. These were the things that tugged at her mind most when found herself many miles from home.

Frustratingly, Halsin did not seem to miss her quite as much as she did him. When she returned he greeted her warmly enough, an enthusiastic participant in their lovemaking always, but a part of Tav wondered if she was the only one left pining during their separations.

If she was gone longer than a ten day they would exchange letters or messages through nature, sometimes managing to speak through their meditations though that was rarer. He shared news of the happenings from home, asked after her welfare, and sometimes included messages from the children under their care. All very sweet but the few times she tried to broach the subject in her letters, how she missed him and yearned for his touch, he either said something clinically empathetic about duty or, worse, didn’t address it at all.

The lack of reciprocation of her desires began to chip away at her confidence in their bond. She began to wonder if maybe she was being selfish trying to bring it up all the time. Perhaps he considered the lust she felt in his absence a youthful fault of her own and nothing to do with him at all.

When she takes her leave one day she mentions while he walks with her to the boundary of their home, that if it looks like she may need to stay longer she will send a letter before the tenday is out. He smiles and nods but tells her she need not trouble herself on his account and kisses her softly on the forehead.

Walking away from him, her steps feel heavy, and the words chase themselves in circles in her mind. Hurt blooms like a wicked vine, crawling through her mind with cruel barbs that whisper silky lies that taste like truths. Keeping in contact over long distances is not necessary. If someone should miss her, they surely know how to reach her. He may as well have told her not to come home at all.

It all boiled down to the same thing. My love does not equal your love. Once she had the thought she found it had taken root and would not be burned away. She heard it as she walked, as she lay staring at the stars, and in her troubled meditations that shattered under the weight of it. It took very little imagination to begin to hear them repeat in her mind with his voice. The journey is long and difficult but with dark thoughts dogging her heels she pushes herself as far and as fast as she is able. The grove is surprised to see her arrive so early but readily enfold her to the circle and the reasons they called for assistance.

Two days, one set of bruised knuckles, and a sternly worded letter to an archdruid in Amn later Tav leaves the grove in an even fouler mood than she went in.

“Please, Faithwarden, at least stay another day. Your journey here was most perilous and long, you should take a day and refresh yourself.”

Tav tries to put her best face forward, she really does, but it is extremely difficult after her altercation with the grove’s resident healer left her in such a seething rage the First Druid had been forced to physically hold her back from beating the woman to death. When she whirls on the young novice he flinches back and Tav feels the sharp words turn to ash on her tongue.

She can’t do anything to rid her face of the stern expression that has decided to live there but she does try to curb her tone at the very least. She assures the poor man she was well rested enough thank you very much but must be on her way to her next destination.

The problem was, Tav had no idea where that destination was. Should she go home? Or would it be so terrible to wander for a bit, away from where she was clearly not as wanted as she supposed. Almost as soon as the thought occurs to her she decides no. She has a stack of letters to work through, almost half of them undoubtedly more summons for her aid.

Standing in the middle of a dusty, overgrown road she sighs. The tangle of hurt and anger giving way to sudden weariness. Was this to be her doom? Always wandering, always aiding, and never finding a notch to catch her heel and making her stop and rest. To sooth her loneliness with the fleeting, loveless passion between strangers who desire her body or her position. It turns her stomach. Inside her chest her heart feels splintered with cracks. One more blow and she will crumble.

When she is close to Thaniel’s realm she hesitates crossing the border right away. She decides that the temporary succor of reuniting with her lover, for once, does not outweigh the turmoil inflicted by the detachment of his farewell. It hasn’t even been a full ten-day anyway, so no one will be looking for her return. She can steal in through the window in her raven form, collect her stack of correspondence, and be gone again without anyone the wiser.

The sky is dark and silent when she begins her mission. A new moon offers plenty of cover to flit through the dark shadows on her way to the house nestled deep in the center of Thaniel’s realm. Spying an open window she flits though and perches on a chair, cocking her head and getting a read on her surroundings. The house is quiet though; the children are all nestled tight in their beds and the druid is nowhere to be seen.

She wonders at that for a moment, it’s unlike him to leave the children unattended overnight. Though, she concedes, he does like to wander the border in wildshape when he feels like thinking in solitude. She brushes the thought away and sheds her birdform to creep on soundless steps through the dark home.

The letters are not in the study where she expected them to be. The desk is tidy, just how Halsin prefers, but the slot where she usually keeps her stack is empty. She rifles through the drawers but they’re simply not there at all. Huffing an irritated sigh she spends a few extra moments poking around the rest of the room but there’s nothing.

He’s already preparing for you to leave permanently, whispers the acrid voice from before. That makes Tav stop her tracks, her heart and stomach and throat twisting so much she has to put her fist against her chest to assure herself she hasn’t been impaled by an arrow. The cracks within, quiver in expectation but she’s here on a mission, not to feel sorry for herself. She ruthlessly shoves the thought and the accompanying lance of pain from her mind.

The kitchen is likewise tidy, and the living area where Tav is most guilty of leaving her things strewn around, “like a magpie’s nest,” Halsin had oft remarked. The words had seemed teasingly affectionate then but now, wandering the spotless house, Tav isn’t sure.

There’s only one place left to check but at this point Tav wonders if she mightn’t just leave after all. It seems unlikely the druid would move her things there, where they had no proper place like the desk. But there is a dreadful anticipation buzzing under her skin and she realizes she can’t not look, can’t leave without seeing for herself if she has been erased from even that space. If he has packed away the odds and ends, removed the evidence of her existence. If he had truly cut her out of his life so thoroughly.

Her hand on the doorknob, heart in her throat, Tav braces herself. When the door swings open on silent hinges, revealing their bedroom just as she remembered it before she left she lets out a sigh that feels less like relief than she thought it would. Stepping in and shutting the door behind her, her keen eyes can see little that has moved or changed in the few days she’s been gone.

Her robe is missing from the place it usually hangs but that’s not unusual. The children were very fond of donning it for their make believe games of wizards and sorcerers. The little vanity table the druid had carved for her is littered with her trinkets and keepsakes, untouched. She spins slowly, correspondence forgotten for the moment while she looks for something. Anything to either untether the ache in her chest or banish it for good. But there’s nothing. The room is unremarkable, ordinary in every way.

She pokes around a bit and finds her stack of letters in the drawer of her vanity. She gives the room another cursory glance but pauses when she hears a gasp. She freezes, wondering if one of the kids had a nightmare and has found her in their search for comfort but the door is shut. The room still.

Curious, she moves as silent as a shadow towards the alcove where the bed is tucked away from sight by a large screen she brought with her from one of her travels. A very dim light comes into view, a guttering candle more ember than wick left. The view that unfolds beyond the screen however, steals her breath away.

Halsin is naked on their bed, eyes shut tight, with one hand holding her robe to his face while the other works a fierce pace along his erection. His hand rolls over the leaking head, once, twice, smearing the leaking precum from the tip before returning to pumping his thick length. His head drops back on the pillow, his mouth dropping open as he pants, his face a rictus in concentration. He breathes in sharply, another gasp he can’t hold back while he pleasures himself, lost in his fantasy, with her robe acting as the anchor.

She feels…giddy. The sight before her would in any other circumstance be enough to have her naked within moments and joining him but the evidence of his clear desire for her, his desperate gasps and near silent wails are the result of his desperate want of her and she…she can’t look away. Her blood runs hot but she’s frozen.

On the bed Halsin whines, teeth clenching, hips flexing as he tries to fuck his own hand. His heavy breathing is broken by a soft murmur, a whispered litany of words she can barely make out except for one.

“Tav.”

The hand holding her robe clenches and he takes a deep breath through his nose, taking in her scent from the fabric and when his eyes slit open Tav feels her own breath shudder out of her. It’s hot, suddenly too hot. His expression betrays surprise, confusion but when his hand stops moving on his cock Tav’s mouth is moving before her brain can catch up.

“Don’t stop,” she commands with a voice that sounds stronger than she feels. Inside she feels brittle and if he pushes the issue she would crumple immediately but he doesn’t. He nods, chest heaving, and his hand resumes its ministrations, his nearly black eyes on hers further driving her wild with desire.

Not even sure what she’s doing anymore Tav sheds her clothes and positions herself at the foot of the bed. A possession has come upon her, moving her limbs for her while her brain is far away. Abandoning his grip on her robe he uses his other hand to squeeze his balls, his breath hitching and in response she feels herself suck in a breath sharply. When he growls, stare heavy on her, she licks her lips and drags the hot skin of her palm across her nipples, her stomach, before finally dipping between the lips of her sex, seeking the bundle of nerves that throbs for attention.

“Tav,” he utters, breathing thready and she sways.

She drinks up the sight of him; squirming, needy, and skin flushed with arousal. The precum welling up from his tip looks like beads of pearls before he swipes it away to join the wet slick slide of his grip pumping his sex. When his hips start to jut into his hand again her hips jerk to echo it, her fingers swirling around her clit increasing their pace to keep rhythm with his movements.

The silent room has become a chorus of their echoing gasps, groans, and stilted breathing. The lewd wet sound as they masturbate to each other’s pleasure is obscene and Tav nearly comes apart with the force of how much she likes it. She watches with intense hunger, the flex of each muscle as he unravels under her gaze.

“I’m–! “ He breaks off, throwing his head back, the corded muscles of his neck taunt, the column of his throat damp with sweat.

“Y-yes!” It’s all she can manage to choke out before she’s lost to the sensation of her toes curling, jaw clenching.

They orgasm together, the sight of his seed spurting across his hand, his stomach, his chest has her moaning and grinding her finger into her clint until she exhales an aching, guttural sob, vision exploding with stars.

She crashes to her knees on the mattress, throwing out a hand to catch herself from falling face first into the blanket while she blinks away the haze of her orgasm. There’s movement and before she’s fully inhabiting her body again his mouth is on hers, his hands pulling her into his embrace. They’re both sticky and sweaty, but it feels like coming home after being away for a decade and she throws her arms around his neck and plunges her tongue into his mouth.

Breaking apart, still catching their breath they sit entwined, foreheads together while they come back to their senses.

When she finally meets his gaze it’s to find it already on her, soft and warm. The ache in her chest cracks wide open and she bursts into tears.

“My love?” Halsin’s voice is the comforting rumble of a summer thunderstorm and it only makes the tears flow more insistently.

“I–I thought...” The words die in her throat. It’s stupid, it’s ludicrous. How could she ever have even dreamed this sweet man would do the things she had supposed. What foolishness had bewitched her? How did she let her mind come to those awful conclusions? She doesn’t have an answer and speaking the words out loud feels fraught with peril.

Halsin doesn’t press her but cradles her head against his chest, running a hand down her back in a soothing gesture that only makes the tangled mess of her emotions a stronger torrent of tears. He rocks her, humming something slow and soft. He kisses the fevered skin of her forehead, clutching her body to his tightly, securely, until at last she feels her last sob give way to hitching sighs.

“I think…I think I’ve been incredibly foolish,” she admits, pulling away to look at him with bloodshot eyes and a snotty nose.

Halsin takes that in but instead of interrogating her, he thumbs away her tears gently before pressing featherlight kisses against the damp skin of her face.

She breathes in, sucking what courage she can from the air between them and haltingly begins to explain. Halsin’s face goes through several complicated emotions as she speaks before settling on sadness.

When she is done relaying the whole of it. How she thought he did not miss her and how it snowballed so horribly from there, he takes her face in both his hands and kisses her softly.

“I miss you,” he begins firmly, holding her gaze. “I miss you when you are not near, whether that means you have gone to answer a summons to a far away grove, or down to the river to collect the children, or even when you are laying in this bed in a trance close enough to touch. I miss you like the land misses the rain in a drought,” he takes her hands in his and presses them to his chest. “I miss you like the winter misses the sun; the dragon misses his flight; the Tears of Selûne miss the moon when its light is extinguished and they are left to trail along until she returns. Without you by my side I feel my days grow dark and grey and spend too often looking over my shoulder for the moment you might appear and bring the light to shine on me again.”

“But–”

“I miss you,” interrupts Halsin urgently. “With everything that I am. Foolishly I held myself aloof in your absence because I did not wish to burden you with my own selfish suffering. You already found the duty bestowed on you an oppressive one and I did not wish to add myself to your troubles. I see now that was a mistake. One I will not commit again.”

“I’m sorry,” says Tav, looking away. “I should have tried harder to explain what I…what I wanted, I suppose. What I needed from you.”

Halsin smiles and nuzzles her cheek. “We each of us have learned something here today and I think we are the better for it, no?”

“You’re very wise, archdruid,” says Tav with a small smile, the spark coming back into her eyes. “You wouldn’t be interested in becoming Faithwarden, would you?”

Halsin laughs and tugs her into his arm again, burying his face in her neck, and stroking her hair and the bare skin of her back. “I’m afraid I’ve quite retired from druidic duties, my heart.”

“Yeah yeah, rub it in.” She pulls back from his embrace when a thought occurs to her and she scans his wide chest in puzzlement before she spies her rolled up robe cast aside on the floor. “Halsin Silverbough did you use my robe to clean up your– “

He leans in close and snatches a kiss to cut her off. “I will wash it myself.”

“Yes you will, that was a gift I got in Waterdeep! Silvanus protect you if I have to go back to that fetid kingdom of money plagued rats to get another one.”

He grins and snatches another kiss before rolling away and snatching the robe off the floor, backing away to the door. “I’m glad you’re home, my heart.”

“You’re not going to be very glad if you don’t go put that in some water right now!”

“Yes, dear,” he calls, sauntering away

“Cold water, Halsin, I’m serious!” He doesn’t respond and she trails after him in alarm. “Halsin? Are you listening?”

“Always, my heart.”

The End

#halsintavweek #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x tav #halsin silverbough #smut #bg3 tav

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lottiembae · 6 months

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FIGHT CLUB; lottie matthews x fem!reader

Summary: y/n get convinced by pj that you need to enter the fight club. lottie didn't like the idea but didn't tell her anything, so she entered too.

Warnings: au bottoms, fluff, blood, two idiots pinning about each other. jackie x shauna in the background.

Note: English is not my first language.

not my gif.

"Have you heard about the new fight club? It is amazing." You said to your friends when you sat down in your usual seat at the cafeteria.

Different reactions from the new information were exchanged. Jackie copied your enthusiasm and clapped, saying that if you are going she is going too, for Shauna's dismay. Van has a similar reaction to Jackie, but in Van's way. Natalie and Laura Lee, indifferent about it but cool with the new club. And then, there are the most skeptical people, Lottie and Shauna. Both brunette girls didn't say anything, just kept eating their food. Shauna has problems sharing her emotions publicly, Jackie is the only one who could cherish it. And Lottie usually gave her opinion in almost everything, and if you are involved it will always be good.

Your focus is entirely on Van and Jackie, a big grin plastered on your face while you talk about it.

"I can't wait to tell Tai. I'm sure she is going too!" Van exclaims excited.

When you were to reply, Lottie wanted to know how you found it so inevitably she interrupted you. "How have you found it?" She asks you softly in comparison to rudely cut you.

All eyes were on her, but she didn't care. The only eyes that care right now would give her the answer. You frown momentarily. "It was PJ. She told me that she, Hazel and Josie created it and she offered that if wanted to join them." You innocently answer.

Lottie bit her tongue, but didn't say anything. She gives you a nod and lets you resume the previous conversation. Her gaze meets Shauna's, who give her a raised eyebrow. Lottie sighs, rolling her eyes. You'll see, it's been a while that a few of them (Shauna, Natalie and Van) started to tease her saying she likes you, every time you two are in the same room her eyes transform in heart eyes, something that is true but never say it to them. It didn't help that they were in the football team playing together. Sometimes she is relieved that she picks to go to the photography club or debate team.

The brown eyed girl doesn't personally meet Josie and PJ. She knew Hazel from the photography club, they didn't exchange many words but the girl seems nice at her every time they are in the same room. About the other two, she doesn't have a based opinion on them because didn't meet them, but Lottie didn't like PJ's vibes.

"Who else could join?" Jackie asks, looking at them. Lottie missed the last part of their conversation, but knowing that the most enthusiastic about it are going to join the club. The football captain looks at Shauna expectant, who was scribbling something in a book. The rest of the girls looked at each other, knowing smiles about the constant situation between the best friends.

Shauna looks up when Natalie lets out a snort, receiving a nudge from Laura Lee. The brunette looks at the rest of the table, confused why all of them are looking at her but understood when her eyes meet Jackie, who already is looking at her with a clearly fake innocent smile.

"What did I lose?" Shauna questioned softly, looking at Jackie.

"You getting into the fight club." Van says out loud, making the rest of the table laugh while Laura Lee disapproves of all their behaviour.

Shauna rolls her eyes, a blush creeping on her cheeks. She knew the moment Y/N commented about it she will go there for Jackie's reaction. So ignoring their friends, her eyes met her favourite hazel eyes.

"Is it necessary that I need to go?" Of course Shauna could put some objections before she says yes.

Jackie rolls her eyes with a smile. "Are you kidding me? I need you there." The captain blinked repeatedly, making Shauna click her tongue sighing.

"Fine." The brown eyed girl gives in, crossing her arms. The whole table cheered for the knowing answer. Shauna curses them, it only makes them tease her more. But it is worth it when Jackie wraps an arm around her shoulder and kisses her cheek in an charming manner for her affirmative answer.

•••

Y/N is in her last period of class that day, sharing it with Van, Lottie and PJ. The redhead and Y/N went to talk with the curly hair girl, who was surprised that two of the most popular girls are talking with her right now. Meanwhile Lottie rolls her eyes when saw her friends go towards her, going to sit on her seat.

It's the first time Y/N wouldn't share the desk with her in the same period. A pang of jealousy ran inside her, watching with her jaw clenched how you opted to sit down with their friend in common, behind PJ seat. She moves her gaze away when the professor enters, muttering a quick apology to come late and proceed to teach the new lesson.

Lottie tried hard to focus on the lesson, but it was difficult when the table from the other side kept whispering through it. She clicked her tongue, frustrated and decided to make a plan for Y/N to forget this stupid fight club thing.

"Lottie! I'm sorry I ditched you, I thought you were behind us." Y/N's voice followed Lottie when the tall girl ran away from the classroom the moment the final whistle sounded.

The brown eyed girl stopped and turned to look at her, not malice in her voice. Even she was giving her a sincere apology. Lottie sighed, she so screwed up. "It's okay, Y/N/N. You can go on your new adventure." The last part was said with a hint of sarcasm, turning on heels and walking to her locker.

Y/N watches confused how her friend walked fast. A whistle on her right side makes her turn to look at Van. "You are in problems..." The redhead sang, patting her shoulder and pushing her softly.

"What do I do?" Y/N asks, a little sad knowing her friend is pissed at her for some reason.

Van hummed. "I have a few ideas." They muttered.

Y/N frown, but Tai and Jackie with a Shauna flying behind her interrupted their conversation. "Alright! It's time to go to our first meeting, let's go!" Jackie grabs Y/N's wrist and brings her with her. The girl noticed she did the same thing with Shauna, who has a brief pout painted on her face.

"Where is it?" Taissa asked, following close behind Y/N and Shauna.

"At the gym!" Van and Y/N said at the same time, remembering the previous exchange of dates with PJ.

Jackie made an abrupt turn and changed the direction, the girls she has a hold on the wrist protest for her lack of delicacy. When they arrived, they were met with two backs standing there inside the gym. The noise the little group did, made the two girls and rest inside look at them. Shauna and Y/N wanted to hide, blushing considerably.

"Sorry, girls! I don't think we would appear like that..." Jackie apologised, without letting her friend's wrists she entered in, greeting Isabel and Brittany.

"Damn, I already love this club..." Y/N could hear Van murmur, letting out a hiss later. She assumed Taissa was responsible.

"You came!" PJ said a little surprised, even if she had the confirmation from earlier, she didn't think Y/N was approaching there, alongside her popular friends too. "Hi! Take a seat please. I was saying that we are punctual and if someone wanted to come and it started, they could be out." The curly hair tried to say it firm, but her nervousness betrayed her.

They sat down, some whispers were heard but they didn't pay attention until someone let out a squeal.

"You all are here!" The characteristic Misty Quigley's cheerful voice greets them. Y/N could hear Shauna grit her teeth, cursing something under her breath. It calls Jackie's attention, who gave her a warning look.

After the interruption, they let the founders explain why they decided to create this club and later they put in pairs to practice. Jackie immediately chose Shauna, Van and Tai got together too, it let Y/N look shyly around her.

"I can go with you!" PJ approaches her, giving her a reassuring smile. Y/N thanked her, she dismissed it and grabbed her hand, going a little away from the girls. "We can practice better without anyone interfering." She explained, blushing when you nod and turned her back at her.

PJ explained what Y/N needs to do, teaching with her hands what she has to do. When she did it wrong PJ grabbed her hand and gently positioned it correctly.

"C'mon, punch me!" PJ encouraged her, putting her fist up.

Y/N grimace, unsure. "Really? I mean, I prefer if you do it first." PJ bit her lower lip, the red shadow coming back at her cheeks. "Are you okay?" The footballer is worried, noticing the red cheeks.

"Yeah, it is hot here." PJ lied, clearing her throat. "Okay, I'll go first and you need to block it and punch me back, alright?" Y/N nods.

PJ licked her lips and nodded to herself, counting to let Y/N time to react. When PJ moves her fist to try to connect with her face, she never thought she actually would hit Y/N's face. She thought the other girl would block and throw back the punch. But Y/N screaming in pain and the sound that makes her nose when her fist connects with her septum, PJ stands stunned on her spot.

Shauna went immediately to help Y/N, the rest of the girls following her. The brunette gently removes Y/N's hands around her face and grimace when saw the blood fall like a fountain. At this PJ reacts, starting to apologise feeling really bad about it.

"Okay, I'm going to take you to the infirmary." Shauna said, standing up and helping her friend. Her other friends accompanied them and the rest looked awkwardly waiting for a new command.

It's Hazel who dismisses the class, promising that they let them know when would be the next class. Josie approaches PJ and wipes her tears, hugging her.

•••

The next day when Lottie sees Y/N almost pass out. The tall girl approaches her and hugs her. "What happened?" She asked, worry. She removed from the hug but stayed closed.

"It's my first punch that I received!" Y/N excited said. It made Lottie frown confused.

"Who punches you?" She inquired, a suspicious look installing on her eyes.

"Relax, it was an accident. PJ was my partner and while she taught me and accidentally hit my nose, I was supposed to dodge it." Y/N explained.

Lottie tense when she heard what happened. Actually she is fuming, wanting to do the same thing with the girl and really teach some real defensive skills.

"You aren't going anymore." Lottie murmurs lowly, grabbing your hand and taking her to her first class, like usual.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Not offense, Lottie. But I need to remember I play football? And when Stacy Moon punches on the ribs? It's nothing." She tried to reassure her best friend, moving her hand up and down for her arm when they stopped near the class. Natalie passed there and saw the gesture, she rolled her eyes and got inside. "I'll see you later, okay? Nat, wait! Look at my nose!" Lottie rolls her eyes this time, a tiny smile playing on her lips watching her going behind the dyed blonde and showing it.

The brunette saw Shauna trying to hide from her. She scowls, knowing very well why she is doing it. Lottie thought it was a little silly because they shared the first period and they sat down near. She let her friend hide all she wanted, soon Lottie would corner her.

"Before you said anything! There are more of us too, don't blame me." Shauna quickly said, licking her lips nervously.

Lottie rounded her desk while looking at her and sat down on her own. "You are right. I have that in mind in a future." She muttered, advertising her gaze and grabbing her book.

Shauna frowned, not liking the reaction her friend is having. She knows how protective Lottie is when Y/N is involved. She could understand because she felt the same with Jack-... nevermind, what Shauna wants to know is why Lottie isn't around Y/N but she is, how is the responsibility to take care of Y/N pass to her?

The rest of the class Shauna was uncomfortable, wishing it finishes and went to her second period, gladly she has it with Tai and not Lottie.

Lottie went to her second class and saw how PJ and Hazel entered it. Her first impulse was to approach the curly hair girl and punch her, but already she has suffered it on her nose. She thinks about Y/N and what would she say to her if she threatened PJ. So Lottie walked with her jaw clenched, an arm around her shoulder distract her. Turning her eyes to the person she saw a snide smirk in Nat's face.

"Easy there tiger. Y/N told me about it. PJ didn't have the fault either Y/N." The blue eyed girl said, entering the classroom and going to the end of the class, sitting on her usual desk.

Lottie gave her a sarcastic smile, rolling her eyes.

•••

After the accident, PJ went to the infirmary encouraged by Josie and Hazel and went to apologise. For her luck, Y/N reassuringly said that it was an accident. Even she made a joke that now they are matching, pointing their noses.

So the next day they have another class and two new members. Y/N's eyes opened and grinned excitedly when she saw Lottie and Natalie walk inside. The expressions they were wearing were very different. Lottie wore a serious expression, softening it when saw Y/N's face and Natalie had a smug smirk the whole time.

"You two are here!" Y/N exclaims excited, giving them a brief hug.

"I have convinced her." Natalie sang, giggling when Lottie gave her a dirty look. She patted Y/N's shoulder and went with Van and Tai sitting with them.

Y/N grabs the brunette hand and goes to sit down on the floor, waiting for the class to start. "I thought you were skeptical about it." She teases her, nudging her shoulder with hers.

Lottie rolls her eyes, a playful smile resting on her lips. "I still think this is stupid, but I will give an opportunity." She said in a boring tone, chuckling when Y/N punched softly in her arm. "That and to defend you from these angry girls."

Before Y/N could reply, Hazel approaches them and greets Lottie animatedly. "Hey! I'm glad you are here." She said sincerely.

They engaged in a short conversation, Y/N staying aside and listening to it. Her mind is picturing why these two know each other. Her didn't wonder too much because someone was clapping to call their attention. Before Hazel goes with PJ and Josie, she asks Y/N how she felt from yesterday's event.

"How do you know her?" Y/N asked curiously, following the calm girl step towards the pair. Lottie turned to look at her, a little surprised by the tone she used, but she decided to not point it out.

"She is in the photography club too. She is really good at it." The brunette explained, biting her lip.

Y/N nods, pursuing her lips.

"Already! Today we will continue with yesterday's movements and before we finish, practice against each other. It continues for tomorrow all day, okay? Let's go!" Josie exclaims, clapping with her hands and dismissing the group in pairs.

Y/N and Lottie stood up. "Can you go with Nat? I don't want to let PJ out." She pouted.

"Really?" Lottie asked, unbelievable. But Y/N begged her and intertwined her hands, making emphasis. "Okay. But only this time." She rolled her eyes, scolding herself and reproaching she needed to be stronger. Spoiler: she will not.

For this, Y/N grabs Lottie's face between her hands and tiptoeing, she kisses her cheeks repeatedly. Then, she went towards PJ, letting a blush mess behind her.

The rest of the session they have a lot of fun. Y/N punched a few times at PJ, without intention. The same with the curly hair girl, the best part is that they have some good laughs about it. Then, they all gathered in the middle and the first ones to fight each other were the best friends, followed surprisingly with Shauna and Misty. A good tie. And before they call it over, Y/N and Jackie were the last ones.

"Scared, baby girl?" Jackie teasingly said with an amused smile. Y/N rolls her eyes when she hears the nickname her friend gives her at the start of the year.

"Sure." Y/N murmurs, positioning herself and looking at her with deep concentration.

They rounded themselves a few times, cheerful from the other girls who were heard in the big gym. Jackie is the first one to attack Y/N, but this one dismisses it quickly, gaining support from the presents there. The next time Jackie does the second attack, Y/N dodge it and throw her fist to Jackie's left cheek, hitting her. The captain let out a hiss, Y/N worried a little when she hit her but soon positioned herself in position when Jackie quickly reacted and gave her a kick on her ribs. Y/N doubled herself on the floor, bringing her hand to the kicked zone.

"Shit! Are you alright?" Jackie's raspy voice sounded more, she bent down and put a hand on her shoulder.

Lottie and PJ approach them fast, making them stop abruptly and look at each other. PJ's gaze is awkward while Lottie is serious.

"I'm fine." Y/N let out a hiss, but reassure her friend who looks really worried.

"Okay, I think it is over. Good fight girls." Josie said.

Shauna walked to Jackie and Y/N, nudging Lottie when she passed by her side. The brunette bit her lip and gave PJ a force smile. "Good job, PJ. I can't wait to come back." If PJ knows her, she would catch the real meaning of those words, but Lottie is really good at hiding it and only Shauna and Jackie catch them.

PJ nods, relaxing. "Cool. See you tomorrow!" She said and walked fast to her friend.

"Give her a break, Matthews." Jackie scolded her, helping Y/N with Shauna's help.

"Shut up." Lottie muttered.

•••

The days passed and Lottie actually started liking these classes. She couldn't go to every class due to her extra classes, but when she could go, it was a really good time.

It worsened the crush she has on Y/N. Her eyes are prolonging more on her figure and her dreaming is interrupted by her friends, receiving later teasing comments.

For Y/N, it changed too. She didn't know she had something for Lottie until that Hazel girl started to talk more with her, making her laugh. Y/N commented on it with Van, since she knew the redhead more than the other girls. The freckled redhead said to her between some teasing and joking comments that she has a crush on Lottie. At first Y/N denied it, but then Van started to point things and then she assumed the redhead was right.

And it didn't help that the same day Y/N could face Hazel wad the day that two couldn't stop talking, making Y/N really piss about it. Shauna and Van intervene to hold Y/N when she pinned Hazel on the floor and started punching her, not with a strong hit but enough to make some cut to the kind brunette. Lottie went to help Hazel, a worried look on her face and it made Y/N angrier, so with quitting the hold on her figure she stormed out, not looking back.

Y/N ran away from there, her legs took her to the changing room. She sighed and let out a huff, sitting on her usual bench. The best part is that she has training sessions now and it means she will see Lottie. And she probably will be angry with her.

"There you are." PJ's voice interrupted her mind. She is panting, bending down and putting both hands on her knees, catching some air. It amused a little Y/N.

"You are in the right place." Y/N inevitable remark at her, PJ rolls her eyes but walks towards her, sitting on the floor with her knees up while reposing her arms there, looking at her.

"What happened there?" The curly hair girl asks softly.

Y/N averted her gaze, clicking her tongue. "I don't know... I just got a lot of information I guess..." She mutters, playing with her fingers on her lap. She isn't lying, after all.

"You like Lottie Matthews." PJ points out, making Y/N open her eyes and stammering repeatedly a no. PJ gave her a kind smile. "I see how you look at her," the blue eyed girl said, shrugging. "It's the same manner I look at Brittany... Or any girl in general." The last comment made Y/N laughs, PJ laughed with her. "Look, you need to confess to her because it could be bigger and maybe you regret it in the future to not tell her how you really feel. Remember that you aren't losing anything."

"What about her friendship?" Y/N asks, unsure.

"Right." PJ said under her breath, frowning." But it wouldn't happen." She reassured her. Y/N threw at her and wrapped her arms around her neck, taking surprise at PJ.

"She is here!" Someone yells, making both jump. Y/N scolded Van, who wiggles their eyebrows.

Y/N raised her index finger in the air. "Don't say anything." She warns at the redhead.

Van raised their hands in the pockets of their jacket. Soon, the rest of the girls approach there. PJ stood up, feeling really nervous.

"I think I'm going with Josie and see how Hazel is," Y/N grimace with Hazel's name and PJ immediately rectified, not wanting to make her feel bad. "Or not, she is fine." Then, she waves and walks fast from there.

Natalie steps towards Y/N and gives her backpack. "And I thought you were the weak one." She receives a nudge from her, making Nat chuckles. The dyed blonde patted her arm and went to change.

Y/N sees how the rest do the same, the girls don't go to the fight club showing up. But what called her attention was Lottie. The brunette is standing near her, crossing her arms while trying to decipher her. She stood up too and stepped towards her.

"Lottie, I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it." She apologised, feeling bad. The brown eyed girl shakes her head softly, making the other frown. "No...?"

"It's not me you need to apologise." Lottie gently told you and with a sight she went to change too.

•••

When Y/N thought anything could go more bad, she was wrong. Following Lottie's advice, Y/N went to apologise with Hazel. But she doesn't have time to do it because when she approached the class was going to start, so she made a mental note to speak with the girl after it finished.

It never happened.

Result that the girls went to do an adventure to Jeff's house. Y/N really enjoyed it, she was sticking with Nat and Van the whole time. That's not the reason why Y/N didn't apologise, she didn't even know that she was going but Jackie threw her at the van.

During class, they decided to open up and say why they want to learn to fight. Y/N and Lottie never got the opportunity to speak on it. She didn't know how everything started but PJ accused Hazel and Josie accused PJ. Hazel stormed out when PJ told her a hurt comment.

Then, in the introduction to the football team, a player called them out. Hazel fought with a guy who was in a cage. It happened too that PJ and Josie lied to them, they never went to a juvie centre. Y/N felt betrayed, like the rest of the girls.

Since that day, Y/N hasn't talked with Lottie. Scared to give her the reason, that she was right from the start. In the training session she avoided Lottie and remains with Nat or Shauna. They tried to reason with her, but it did not matter what they said to Y/N, the girl didn't listen.

So right now, it is the big day. The football team would play against their big rivals. Y/N has the jacket of her team, walking between Van and Tai to the stands. Someone has another plan and pulled her hand and took her under the stands. Y/N did not oppose resistance when her eyes found the long brown hair cascading on her back. It is Lottie.

She let out Y/N's hand and crossed her arms, looking at her with a defeat look. The other girl noticed how prominent dark circles are under her eyes, telling her how bad she is sleeping.

"I don't know why you are ignoring me. But please, stop. It hurt me, from all of the people you can't be mad at me. I don't care if some of the others are mad at me..." Lottie begged, Y/N saw how she was holding her tears.

Y/N felt like a bad person. She didn't deserve Lottie at all. She brings her hand to grab one of her hands, caressing the palm in circles. "I'm sorry, Lottie. I'm not pretending to hurt you I just don't want to confront you or you telling me about how bad the club idea was... I'm a stupid."

"You aren't a stupid. And I can't say it was a good idea because in some way the girls helped us." Lottie murmurs, catching with her thumb yours.

"There is one more reason..." Y/N advertised her gaze, feeling shy about it. Lottie brings her free hand to her cheek, her gaze coming back to the brunette, seeing the warmth on her brown eyes. "I realised, with Van's help," she poorly said, seeing a tiny smirk appear on Lottie's lips. "That I like you, like you. That's why I acted with Hazel like that. I mean it's not a reason to excuse my behaviour. I guess I got jealous and..." Lottie shush you with her finger, lit on her eyes. The height difference showing up since Y/N needed to look up.

"Can you repeat it?" Lottie asked in a husky voice, hopeful swimming in her eyes and on her smile.

"I guess I got jeal-," "Not that part." Lottie chuckles.

"I like you." Y/N whispered.

Lottie closed the gap and brushed her lips with hers, bringing her other hand to her cheek and caressing the skin there, deepening the kiss. After they need breath and separate, Lottie leans her forehead on Y/N's, brushing their noses.

"I like you too." Lottie confess.

But before they could continue on their bubble, Josie and PJ interrupted them and between apologies, they asked for their help.

"We could do it better." Lottie whispered on Y/N's ear, kissing her head while the girl leaned on her shoulder giggling, covered in blood just like her. The arm the brunette has on her waist pushed softly towards herself, trying to be the most near possible.

They saw Shauna and Jackie's first kiss.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets imagine #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

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Diavolo with a yan!MC that ends up getting caught by him?

DIAVOLO x Yandere!Reader 1.1k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Yandere Elements | Suggestive Content warnings: Yandere behaviour including obsessive thoughts, manipulation, stalking, suggestive content. ➤➤ Obey Me! Masterlist

Lucifer doesn’t suspect a thing when you eagerly volunteer to help with RAD student council tasks. He thinks you’re trying to make a good impression on him and the other demons monitoring the success of the student exchange program.

He’s not going to refuse your help, especially when his brothers are less than reliable at the best of times. You’re enthusiastic and oh so curious about the history of the school, and the Devildom, and of course, Diavolo. Lucifer could talk for hours about Diavolo’s hard work and his dreams for the future - to your delight, sometimes he does.

Lucifer also isn’t the type to turn down the offer of pleasant company when he has to run errands at the Demon Lord’s castle. Sometimes you bring gifts for Diavolo, human world desserts you’ve made from scratch. You must’ve gotten access to Leviathan’s Akuzon account because those ingredients are difficult to come by.

Lucifer thinks it’s almost refreshing to see the look of shy excitement on your face when you hand Diavolo a homemade treat. Something about the Devildom seems to be bringing out the best in you because he finds you charming - and he's not the only demon to think so.

(Neither of you realize that Diavolo notices a change in you, too. He enjoys your small gifts, your tokens of appreciation. He eats your food selfishly and thinks about you while he licks his lips clean.)

No, Lucifer doesn’t mind at all that you’ve taken such a keen interest in learning more about the Devildom or its prince. It’s the reason why Lucifer agreed to bring you as his guest to a party at Diavolo’s castle.

Lucifer mentioned the party to you in passing, and he felt a little guilty when the excitement in your eyes faded to disappointment when he said your presence wasn't necessary. He surprised you the next day with confirmation you could accompany him. He asked Barbatos for permission to bring you, even though you weren't formally invited.

"They may consider it my lord's gift to them, in recognition of their effort and hard work lately," Barbatos told him with a mysterious smile.

The next evening, the party is in full swing and you're wearing something extravagant and expensive that Asmodeus picked for you and that Lucifer paid for. You linger by Lucifer’s side - he’s not usually far from Diavolo, which means you’re not far from Diavolo.

The demon prince is exceedingly handsome in his RAD uniform, but nothing compares to the majesty of Diavolo's demonic horns and wings on proud display. Arousal hums beneath your skin and you have to remind yourself not to stare.

Most of the demons are getting drunk off Demonus, and even Lucifer seems a bit loose-lipped this evening. Some of the guests have brought Diavolo gifts; you’re pretending to listen to Lucifer when you overhear Diavolo ask Barbatos to take the gifts to his room.

It’s easy to slip away from Lucifer who’s distracted by booze and conversation. Your gaze narrows on Barbatos who moves quietly through the crowd. He exits through a doorway on the far side of the room, and when you're certain no one notices your absence, you follow him.

You’ve visited the castle before, but you haven't figured out where Diavolo’s personal chambers are located. You’re as quiet as possible when you follow Barbatos down unfamiliar hallways and up new flights of stairs you haven’t explored yet. His shoes click loudly when he walks across the stone floor. You linger behind and let the echoes of his footsteps guide you towards your destination.

You reach an elaborately decorated hallway that's dimly lit except for a few fiery torch sconces mounted on the walls. You can't see Barbatos, but you hear a door creak open then slam shut. His footsteps echo louder when he starts walking back towards your location. You slip into a random doorway - some sort of small library - and wait for him to pass.

Once you can no longer hear him, you venture back into the hallway until you find what must be the entrance to Diavolo’s room. You look around before you pull the heavy door open and walk inside.

Light from the hallway spills across the floor and casts most of the room in heavy shadow. You leave the door open so you can claim you got lost if one of the servants happens to find you.

You take a few steps forward and breathe the scent of him into your lungs. Diavolo smells spicy and slightly sweet, like the boozy, smoky scent of drinking in front of a crackling fire. You’ve caught whiffs of him when you leaned in close to hand him something, or when you accidentally brushed by him in the RAD hallways. His scent is much richer here, much more potent, and you can almost taste him on your tongue.

You don’t realize how distracted you are until you hear a quiet chuckle behind you. When you gasp and turn around, all you can see is him. Diavolo is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He's just inside the open doorway while flickering light from the hallway dances across his skin. He tilts his head and considers you, the brave little human who thought their lingering glances and erratic heartbeat in his presence went unnoticed.

You stare at each other. You're so nervous and overwhelmed that you can barely breathe. His eyes are dark and his gaze scorches your skin when he gives you a very thorough once-over while he decides what to do with you. His lips curl into a smile that looks hungry.

“You’re braver than I thought,” he admits when he finally speaks to you. His voice is low and gravelly - you’ve never heard him sound like this before.

But then he does something you don’t expect: he reaches for the door and pushes it closed. The room is eerily dark now, but you can just barely see him in front of you. He pushes away from the wall and takes agonizingly slow, deliberate steps towards you.

You're frozen in place while your body trembles with fear and desire. The urge to fall to your knees before him in reverence is overwhelming.

“Humans are so intriguing," he murmurs to himself. His voice is deafening in the black silence that surrounds you. He reaches forward to caress your face, and you lean into the touch with a sigh. Before he pulls you to him, you see a glimpse of his fangs when he grins at you.

"You’ve earned the prince’s attention, my dear - there’s no turning back now.”

When he tilts your chin up, your lips and tongue meet him in a hungry, all-consuming kiss. You're lightheaded when the kiss ends. His hands wander across your body. and his chest is rumbling against yours.

Diavolo inhales sharply when you slip from his arms and fall to your knees. When you reach for his waist, you're desperate to show him how intriguing this human can really be.

#someone dropped this 🚩#obey me diavolo #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me smut #omswd smut #diavolo smut #obey me diavolo x mc #diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x you #diavolo x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #obey me yandere #gn!reader

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thefrogdalorian · 4 months

Text

The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Eight

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 11438 Rating: General Summary: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date... Content Warnings: Smooching 👀, alcohol consumption. Author's Note: I was going to post this on Friday but just didn't really feel right after the news, but I'm very happy to finally share this one with you! Big chapter for our dear reader and Din's story together as their relationship to each other reaches a new stage. Next chapter is equally important and she also earns a nickname from Din which is very cute 🥺! Can't wait to finish editing and share that one, too! Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks again to @suresnips for being my beta. Your feedback is always so helpful and appreciated ♡

7. Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]

Usually, when a new season of The Mandalorian began filming, Din would feel thoroughly invigorated by the process. Donning his precious beskar’gam and using the expertise he had accumulated through all of his training in the ancient Way to perform stunts helped him feel in touch with his roots. It helped Din to feel connected to the people who had taken him in when he was a destitute orphan, found wandering the streets. Yet, the beginning of filming for the third season had not brought such emotions forth within Din. Instead, he felt rather drained by the entire process.

As he sat there in the back of the car that ferried him the short distance to and from the studios daily. Din was grateful that it was almost the end of the week for his patience was running thin. The shoot for the first episode of the third season of The Mandalorian was drawing to a close, ending in a climactic final act with plenty of fight scenes for Mando. Fortunately, since the day at the zoo, he had felt slightly more settled mentally than he had on the day when he was constantly missing his cues and was sent for an early lunch. The clarity the conversation by the penguin enclosure had brought had calmed his mind, and now he knew with certainty that nothing was standing in his way from attempting to claim your heart.

Despite how well the shoot was going for the most part, there was a certain curly-haired co-star who seemed determined to get on Din’s last nerve. The constant questions and teasing from Peli about how the flowers had been received and the outing to the zoo had been amusing at first, but now they were beginning to irritate Din. Although he cared for Peli a great deal and was always grateful for how much she cared about him and Grogu, sometimes she could grate on Din’s nerves. The talkative, eccentric woman was someone Din knew that he could always turn to for advice, yet he also found that sometimes she could be a little overbearing and eager to give her advice in situations where it wasn’t even necessary.

Din could not wait for tomorrow evening when he had arranged what he thought was the perfect proper first date. Finally, the two of you would be able to spend time together, no work, no zoos, and no toddlers. He wished that time would speed up so that Friday evening would roll around and he would finally be able to be in your presence again. Although there were not too many miles that separated you from each other and despite having exchanged phone numbers, things had been too hectic to take advantage of that fact. To Din, you could have been on the other side of the world entirely rather than only a few minutes drive away.

It wasn’t that Din didn’t want to text; he did, more than anything. But doing so was a risk. What if you asked a question that he could not easily answer? Din knew that it would be incredibly difficult to continue small talk via text, given the gravity of the secret that he was keeping. How could he possibly say he was just about to beat up an entire platoon of Praetorian Guards if you asked what he was doing at work? No, he had to be tactful about how he handled this part of his life. Din would never outright lie to you, but he knew he had to obscure the truth from you. It was a line, however, that he was struggling to tread. The guilt had been eating him up inside, but Din knew this was for the best. He had to protect himself. Din hoped you would not take his lack of frequent texts as rudeness, or a sign that he was not keen on you. In reality, it was entirely the opposite.

With all the physical fight scenes that were present in the season finale, Din needed to be focused and on the top of his game. Despite the clarity that your outing to the zoo had brought, focusing on a fictional fight scene was complicated given the numerous complex emotions he was currently dealing with. For one, he had not been able to stop thinking about the time the two of you had spent together at the zoo the previous weekend. Since he had met you, Din was experiencing feelings that he had been convinced that he would never feel again. Not after Omera, the woman that Din had come so close to allowing himself to fall for before he realised that their ways of life would ultimately prove incompatible.

Din still found that his mind occasionally drifted back there, to Sorgan, the idyllic village where he had laid low for a couple of months with work. Memories of the beautiful woman, with her long black hair and kind brown eyes, flickered through his mind. Din thought fondly of her, of how diligently she had taken care of him for the short time their paths crossed when his work liaising with law enforcement to root out organised crime gangs had taken him to Sorgan. Coincidentally, it was during that very same job that Din had encountered Grogu. Indeed, the boy had only been in Din’s care for a matter of days when he had been tasked to gather intelligence in that picturesque farming village where he had come so close to leaving his nomadic lifestyle behind and finally putting down roots. He had agonised for the first few months over whether his decision to leave had been the right one. Although it had hurt greatly at the time, now with time separating him from Omera and Sorgan, Din knew that his decision to leave unquestionably was the correct one. Especially when the call with the offer of the role of The Mandalorian came through only a few weeks later.

Since Omera, Din had lived such a solitary life that he had almost forgotten how incredible it felt to enjoy someone’s presence as much as he enjoyed the evening at the museum and the day at the zoo with you. Din knew that deep down, complete solitude was not entirely what he wanted for his life. But it was just how things had turned out, he had made his peace with that. Until you came along.

Before then, Din had been pretty content to isolate himself. It had just been him and Grogu in the peaceful cottage that he had just returned to after the long day’s filming, Grogu already asleep in his arms. Although Din usually relished the quiet evenings with his son, he was quietly glad that filming had overrun and Grogu had fallen asleep as soon as his tiny frame had been secured in the car seat. There would be no dinner and bath time tonight; instead Din carried his sleeping son upstairs, grateful that Iggy had already changed him into his pyjamas once the filming had looked likely to overrun so Din did not have to disturb him. Din placed Grogu gently under the covers, tucking him in and leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Grogu,” Din whispered into the silent baby monitor before he grabbed the baby monitor and made his way downstairs.

With Grogu asleep, Din was struck by the stillness of the cottage. It was dark and soundless. Usually, Din savoured his downtime, the moments he spent alone, away from others. Yet, for the first time since he had moved here, Din began to contemplate another’s presence here. He wondered how it would feel to have you here, in his orbit… in his home. How well you would fit in amongst the stunning scenery, with your beauty. Evening walks with Grogu, returning to the cottage where the two of you would bathe him before you cooked and ate a meal together at the polished wooden dining table. Then you’d cuddle on the couch together, Din holding you tightly in his arms and nuzzling into your hair.

Din shook his head and moved into the kitchen to prepare some food, almost disgusted with himself for how carried away he had just gotten, his imagination running wild. Such a thing could never happen, at least not until Din was more certain that he could trust you with his secret. For his cottage, with all of its proximity to the studios, was certain to provoke a line of questioning from you that he would be unsure that he could answer without breaking his vow of honesty to you.

Truthfully, the depth of his emotions had terrified him. Intimacy like this, actually wanting to be in the presence of another was a new sensation for Din. After so long spent in solitude, it was going to take some getting used to. Din had been alone for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt to feel like this.

Din had partly kept to himself because he viewed his life as much too complicated to allow someone else into, feeling that it was unfair to involve someone else with how unpredictable and nomadic his lifestyle was. There was also Grogu to consider, especially with the attention and stability that the little boy required taking absolute precedence. Yet, deep down, Din knew that he was terrified of getting close enough to someone in case the day ever came when he lost them. Losing his parents at such a young age left scars deep within Din that he was struggling to overcome even so many years later.

Of course, Grogu had begun to slowly but surely break down the emotional walls that Din had erected around himself. Until he had found the little boy in the attic on that fateful day, Din had not realised his capacity for love. Now, though, another presence in Din’s life was beginning to chip away at those walls with all of the light and warmth you had brought to his life.

Din was attracted to the way you looked. But to him, your beauty went far further than merely skin deep. He found himself more able to relax in your presence in a way that he had not around others for a long time. Despite how much he knew you loved the show – after all, it was the reason he had crossed paths with you in the first place – somehow, it was easy to forget the burden of his secret in your presence. Din was so mesmerised by your intellect and how good you were with Grogu, how patient and kind you were to the little boy despite his nervousness and emotional outbursts. Anyone whom Din Djarin was going to fall for had to care for Grogu, too.

All feelings of awkwardness that Din had felt over bringing Grogu with him to meet you at the zoo had dissipated the second that he had seen you. Din had been fearful of the way that his son’s presence might be misconstrued as a lack of interest or viewing the outing as purely platonic. But you had not had that reaction at all. It had been the complete opposite, you had welcomed Grogu’s presence and been so attentive when the little boy had shown signs of being upset in the frog exhibit. The kindness that you had extended to Grogu in the museum had continued even when you were not being paid to show it, something that had relieved Din immensely.

Seeing you interact with Grogu had awakened something inside of Din, he was feeling strong emotions that he was not sure he had ever experienced at this intensity before. Time spent with you strengthened Din’s instinct that somehow, he just knew that you were right for him and the way you were seamlessly slotting into his life with Grogu was surely proof of that. Din had not spent much time with you but already he knew that the bond with you was something special, something that he had been searching for for a long time. With you, he felt like he finally had found a part of him that he had not even realised he was missing.

That realisation of how quickly you had become so important to him both scared him and excited him in equal measure. Din had to keep reminding himself that he had to maintain some distance and not let you in completely until he had told you the truth. Yet, it was just too easy to let his guard down around you. Although he feared the repercussions of his secret being revealed, never seeing you again was simply not an option. That was why he had enlisted Fennec’s help to plan what he hoped would be an ideal first date.

Given the circumstances behind what was – to your knowledge, at least – the first time Din had crossed paths with you, he figured that there was no point attempting to hide the benefits that his job came with. It would have been a pointless endeavour, considering that you knew his bosses had the financial capability to allow them to rent out the British Museum for just him and Grogu. So, rather than shying away from that fact, Din exploited that benefit to organise a date that he was sure would go down a treat and allow you to look at your favourite painting without the mindless tourists that you so hated.

Din knew that with the date he had planned, he was opening himself up to conversations about how it was possible. But it was a risk he was willing to take. Besides, if you ever alluded to his work Din, planned to say that he had signed NDAs – which was not a lie. It was an easy way to get around any hypothetical questions. Not that you had ever really questioned him on text this week, even when Din had told you he had a busy, draining day at work. Your replies had just voiced concern and hope that he would have some time to relax, rather than pushing for details. Din was relieved that you seemed perfectly content to be in the dark about specific details about his job. Though Din thought that you perhaps would not be so laid back if you knew exactly what it entailed. No, he was sure that you would suddenly have boundless intrigue about what it was like to be The Mandalorian.

Your easy-going nature meant that Din had felt even less troubled about leaning into the privileges that came with his mysterious line of work. So he had enlisted the help of Fennec to arrange something he was certain would mean an awful lot to you. Organising such a date had even been worth the playful ribbing from Jim that Din had received when the two had passed in the corridor. Din was grateful that his helmet had hidden the blush that swept over his features when Jim had remarked: “It must be someone special, first the flowers and now this.” Jim was right of course, the person Din was seeing was very special.

Thoughts of how the date would go raced through Din’s mind that night as he lay in bed. He was excited to see how you would react to what he had planned for your evening. But he was also anxious to see your reaction when he revealed what he had planned for your date. Above all, Din was hopeful that the spark that had been evident in your encounters so far would continue when it was just the two of you. Din’s mind took longer than usual to switch off, but fortunately, it was not an issue as he was not required on set the following day. The late night of filming meant that the morning session had been postponed until the following week and Din was not required on set in the afternoon anyway, so effectively he had a three-day weekend to enjoy.

Din was thankful that the scenes to be filmed in the afternoon did not include him. It was a sign that the show was widening in scope, focusing on a story bigger than just Din’s journey as a lone bounty hunter making his way through the galaxy, as the show had once been. For the first few episodes, Din hardly spoke. It was something that the heads of the studio had been nervous about, wondering whether the audience would form an attachment to a nameless, faceless character who hardly uttered a word. Din was pleased that Mando had proved them all wrong, with the almost universal praise and acclaim that the season had received. He had been relieved too, at how much praise his performance in particular had garnered. Not that Din had sought it out, but Jim and Dale had sent him a selection of glowing reviews to reassure Din. Their gamble and trust in an unknown, entirely inexperienced actor who wanted to remain anonymous had more than paid off.

Now though, the scope of The Mandalorian’s third season had hugely increased and other characters had been introduced. They were mainly fellow Mandalorians that Mando was both allied to and sceptical of. Bizarrely, it mirrored reality for Din as the casting choices had initially irritated him and he had been suspicious of the newcomers. Unlike the casting for the main character, the studio had not elected to cast real Mandalorians, citing budget concerns. Jim and Dale had been equally disappointed, insisting that they had lobbied for real Mandalorians to be cast. But they were so rare, expensive and tricky to negotiate with that in the end, cost had won out.

Their apologies did not stop Din from being any less disgusted that the people walking around on set were pretenders, merely fitted in their beskar’gam by the costume department without any understanding of how sacred each piece of armour was. How centuries of Mandalorians had fought and died to preserve armour such as the ones they were wearing.

Din was silently enraged by the knowledge that these people were just viewing their beskar’gam as a costume, something that could be taken on and off, without any true understanding of the deeper sacrifice and meaning of being a Mandalorian. Din had sought a lot of counsel from the golden-haired woman who led his tribe. She had been dismayed by it too, but reminded Din that he was doing nothing wrong. It was an unfortunate pitfall of working with such a corporation, which had shown little respect for various cultures throughout its history. It was the latest in a long list of such behaviour, and Din should not have been too surprised.

It was all contributing to the sense of unease that he had felt on set during the first two weeks of feeling. Somehow, things felt much different than the first two seasons. It did not help that there was pressure to surpass their immense popularity, either. Din always feared that sooner or later, the bubble would burst, and people would realise that he was not good enough to be The Mandalorian.

For now, those thoughts were far away from Din’s mind as he tried to get his body to sleep. He focused on thoughts of you, the way you looked at him and how warm your body had felt, pressed up against his as the two of you sat next to each other eating ice creams on the bench outside the London Zoo. Din was only hours away from seeing you again, a prospect that excited and terrified him in equal measure. So many questions that would be answered the following day. But, now, it was time to rest…

✯ ✯ ✯

It was fortunate that Din was not required on set, as it was not even six a.m. when Grogu’s cries on the baby monitor roused Din from the peaceful slumber that he had eventually fallen into. He did not grumble or complain, just swung his long, muscular legs out of bed and made his way into his son’s bedroom next door.

“Morning, pal,” Din rasped, reaching down to scoop Grogu out of his bed. “You hungry?” Din asked and was relieved when Grogu furiously nodded. Mercifully, it did not appear to be one of those days where it was difficult to discern Grogu’s immediate needs. “Okay, buddy. Let’s go get you something to eat, I know it was a late night of filming yesterday and you didn’t eat on time.”

With Grogu seated in his high chair, chubby hands happily clutching a serving of his favourite animal crackers, Din took his phone out and debated sending you a text. He knew that you would probably be waking up for work soon, not too many miles away. Din found himself wondering whether he was being utterly ridiculous for pining over you this much so soon after meeting, but then he remembered how his heart sang whenever you were near. With that thought, his thumbs moved to type the text.

Hope you have a good day at work. Remember, Trafalgar Square at 8:30! Can’t wait to see you.

Din read it several times, hoping it didn’t sound too patronising with his comment about enjoying work, especially when his job was nothing like yours. When he was finally satisfied with the text, Din sent it and took a deep breath. Even texting you felt like an event; Din wasn’t sure how he would survive time with just the two of you alone.

Din had already told you of the meeting place a few days before, once the details had been confirmed by Fennec, but an insecure part of him fretted that you had somehow forgotten, or made other plans and would not be there waiting for him. Meeting at Trafalgar Square was hopefully mysterious enough to throw you off the scent, even though the building Din would be taking you to was right there, overlooking the bustling square. Din was anxiously awaiting your reply; mercifully, a certain little boy provided the perfect distraction. Grogu was finished with his animal crackers and was furiously pointing in the direction of the garden, indicating that he wanted to go outside to play.

Din was only too happy to oblige, hoping that a few minutes of running around and playing on the climbing frame by the fire pit, right next to the little outbuilding which housed the gym would tire Grogu out sufficiently that the little boy would want another nap and Din could get some more rest. Instead, after running around, it almost seemed that Grogu had even more energy. So Din took him inside to the small room on the ground floor of the cottage that was essentially Grogu’s playroom. Din dug out some colouring books and the two set about spending the rest of their morning colouring in, a favoured bonding activity that Grogu always seemed to be in the mood for. Din could sense that his son possessed a great deal of talent. For exactly what, he wasn’t sure. But he hoped that Grogu would find it. Until then, Din was determined to nurture his artistic side.

While Grogu was particularly focused on colouring in a mountainous landscape, Din’s phone chimed and he almost fell off his chair in surprise. A morning of running around after his son had rather taken Din’s mind off the earlier text he had sent, but when a reply from you appeared on his lockscreen, Din suddenly felt lighter.

Thank you! Just arrived at work, I have to show some kids around for a tour. Hopefully they’re as well behaved as Grogu. I’m really excited to see you too :)

Reading your words made Din’s stomach flip. The way you had even referenced Grogu caused an ecstatic grin to spread across his face, he squeezed his eyes shut in glee. Din shook his head and returned his phone to his pocket, wondering what he had ever done to be so lucky to find you. He figured he would leave you to your tour and concentrated on the task at hand, colouring books with his boy.

After a couple more hours of art, the rumbling in Din’s stomach signified that it was lunchtime. Din headed into the kitchen and made some sandwiches for the two to share. The weather was warm, it was early July after all and it seemed as though the British weather had finally remembered what season it was, so Din took Grogu outside and the pair munched on their sandwiches outside on the patio next to the fire pit. It was a feature of the house which Din did not often use. He wondered whether he would sit outside here with you on a cooling summer night, the two of you huddled up together on a bench as you watched the flickering embers of the fire.

With lunch eaten and cleaned up, Din attempted to put Grogu down for a nap. Mercifully, Grogu was seemingly happy to get some rest, after his busy morning. His son’s eagerness for a nap gave Din the perfect opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep after the late night of filming and early morning thanks to his son’s antics. But as he lay there in bed, Din found that he could not settle. The knowledge of his upcoming date was still causing his stomach to do flips. Despite how drained he had felt after the first two weeks of filming, Din couldn’t help but wish that he was on set today. He was incredibly nervous about the upcoming date. Tonight, it would just be the two of you. There was nowhere to hide, just the two of you together. No beskar, no work and no toddlers. It was an equally terrifying and exciting prospect.

The next sound Din heard was the sound of the doorbell ringing. His eyes flew open and he was momentarily disoriented, forgetting where he was and having no sense of time whatsoever. Din leapt out of bed for the second time that day, panicking that he had overslept. Mercifully, the time on his watch read a little past five p.m. and Din rushed into Grogu’s room, panicking that his son would have woken up without him. He was relieved to see Grogu still sound asleep. Din didn’t have the heart to wake him just yet, so he headed downstairs and was greeted by a familiar hunched figure silhouetted through the glass in the door.

“Hi, Kuiil,” Din welcomed the diminutive man, with his impossibly pink skin, a smattering of white hair above his top lip and deep wrinkled skin. “Thanks for coming, Grogu is upstairs having a nap right now. Figured we could leave him until dinner is ready.”

“Perfect, I’ll get started on that right away,” the old man rasped as he hung up the brown coat he always seemed to wear in the hallway.

With Grogu asleep and Kuiil tackling dinner for the two of them, it was time for Din to get ready. He inhaled deeply in the shower, hoping that the heat of the hot jets as they rained down upon him would calm his nerves and soothe him somehow. The effect was fleeting before that stomach-flipping nervousness returned. He turned the shower off and exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel to get ready. The house was a lot less still now. Somewhere below, he could hear the sounds of Kuiil and Grogu laughing and the occasional clanking of pots and pans as the old man continued preparing dinner. Din wondered whether the sound of you and Grogu interacting would ever drift through the cottage and greet his ears. Perhaps he would come in from a workout, to find the two of you playing together in Grogu’s room. Or he would descend the stairs in the morning to find you happily cooking in the kitchen, Grogu on your hip. It was such a vivid image that it almost took Din’s breath away. Din knew that he was probably several steps further than was normal for a first date. But then, the way he had met you had been far from normal.

After he had dressed, shaved slightly and styled his hair, Din stood in front of the mirror and raked his hand through his hair for what was probably the fiftieth time. Part of the perk of the helmet was that there was no stipulation for how he had to wear his hair and recently, he had been enjoying wearing it longer. His dark hair was pushed back past his ears, the curls were longer on the back of his head and towards the nape of his neck. His moustache had been trimmed slightly, as had most of the scruffy stubble that was usually dotted along his jawline. Din checked his outfit in the mirror one last time, confident that he had played it just right with his outfit. He was wearing a classic white button-down shirt, the first three buttons undone and pushed open to reveal his bronze skin beneath. The shirt was paired with form-fitting dark brown chinos that showed off his muscular legs, which he worked so hard to maintain with his exercise routine, while not being too skinny that they were uncomfortable.

Din took a deep breath and looked himself up and down one last time in the mirror, hoping that you would like what you saw. He had always struggled to gauge his attractiveness, which was unsurprising given how sheltered his upbringing had been and how much of his life was spent hiding his face behind his helmet. Still, when Din was free to show his face, he had never been particularly focused on others’ responses to him. Sure, he hadn’t failed to notice the occasional admiring looks from both men and women that were thrown his way, but most of the time he had been too focused on a job to stop and explore those gazes further. Now though, with you, he was finally getting to experience a whole new side of himself that had previously remained unexplored. It was an exhilarating prospect, but one that Din approached with equal trepidation. He could not shake the fear that you would perhaps be disappointed in what you saw.

After deciding that he was satisfied with his appearance, Din grabbed his wallet and phone from the dresser and shoved them in his pockets. His phone had not sounded since your earlier text to confirm the time and venue for your meeting and he wondered whether you were going through a similar process to him, agonising over your appearance. He wished that he could text you and tell you that you had no need to worry. For Din, you could wear anything and he would still be blown away by your beauty.

Din descended the stairs and entered the kitchen and was greeted by the adorable sight of his son sitting in his high chair, face and arms entirely covered by pasta sauce. Din smirked at the sight, grateful that he would not have to be embroiled in the clean-up operation that would surely take place while he was out on his date.

“Oh, Grogu,” Din laughed, “I’m going to keep my distance from you, buddy.” Din gestured towards the freshly-pressed, bright white shirt that he was wearing for his date. The last thing he wanted was for a mucky toddler to ruin his pristine outfit.

“As soon as he’s finished with his dinner, I’m going to be putting him straight in the bath,” Kuiil huffed. “At least he’s enjoying it, though.”

“It’s wonderful to see,” Din smiled proudly, relieved that Grogu was actually eating something other than his beloved animal crackers. It was a struggle to find foods that the little boy would try, but pasta with tomato sauce appeared to be something that could be added to Grogu’s list of safe foods.

Din poured himself a glass of water and then took a seat at the table, opposite Grogu and well away from the tomato sauce splash zone. He just enjoyed being in his son’s presence, watching with fascination the way Grogu seemed so enthralled by the textures of the pasta and the sauce that he kept making it into little balls with his chubby hands. It was definitely not the most conventional way to eat pasta, but it sure worked for Grogu and if it got him to explore new foods, both Din and Kuiil were more than happy to leave him to it.

Din also warred with the internal guilt that he sometimes felt when leaving Grogu behind, no matter how short of a time the two of them were apart. Din knew that Grogu was happy with Kuiil; he adored spending time with the older man and the two of them had a truly special bond that anyone who spent time with the two of them together felt privileged to witness. Din knew that Grogu would have a bath, play with his toys and then be put to bed. Din knew that he would be there when his son awoke the following morning. But there was still a nagging guilt in the back of his mind, berating him for leaving his boy alone for something as selfish as a date.

“Din, he’ll be fine,” Kuill smiled sympathetically. The kindly old man appeared to have understood where Din’s mind had wandered.

“I know, it’s not that I don’t trust you, Kuiil. There’s no one I’d rather him be with,” Din sighed, struggling to put his emotions into words. “I feel so responsible for him, it’s difficult to switch off.”

“Listen, enjoy your night with your lady. If anything happens at all, I will call you immediately. The car can quickly bring you back here, but really, I think this little one is worn out,” Kuiil nodded in Grogu’s direction. “Sounds like the two of you had a busy day before I even got here and after some post-bathtime playing, I’m sure he’ll be out like a light.”

“Thanks, Kuiil,” Din said appreciatively. He knew that the old man he entrusted Grogu with was nothing but diligent in his care of the boy, but there was always that lingering guilt that Din was never quite able to outrun, no matter how hard he tried.

Grogu had just about finished his dinner when the doorbell rang, signifying that Din’s driver had arrived. Din took a deep breath and braced himself to say goodbye to Grogu, hoping that it was one of those nights where Grogu would not get upset at his father leaving. Thankfully, as he leaned down to press a kiss to his boy’s coily hair, Grogu chirped happily and did not seem bothered that his father was leaving, especially as Kuiil was currently detailing all of the toys that Grogu could play with in the bath.

With his heart feeling lighter and safe in the knowledge that his son was going to be okay, Din pushed the old wooden door of the cottage open and made his way to the black van that would ferry him to central London to meet you. Part of the perks of his job was the fact that Din had a driver on call at all times, ready to take him wherever he desired on a moment’s notice. His usual driver was a man called Boba, Din suspected was around his age but somehow seemed more wizened. Din suspected that the two of them shared similar pasts, although he was inclined to keep personal chatter to a minimum.

“Hi, Boba,” Din greeted the bald man who was sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Good evening, Mr. Djarin,” Boba nodded, as he started the engine and drove off.

Din was grateful that Boba did not speak unless spoken to; he was not one for small talk, which suited Din perfectly. The radio was on, mercifully at a quiet volume and Din found himself staring out of the window as the lush green countryside turned into leafy suburbia and then, finally, the hustle and bustle of the big city. It took a certain amount of driving skill to be able to navigate London on a Friday evening, especially given the stop-start nature of the traffic. Din felt as though they were crawling along and wondered several times whether it would be quicker to walk.

Eventually, though, the car pulled up a street behind Trafalgar Square and Din eagerly hopped out, anxious to get to the meeting point even though he was twenty minutes early. He had left extra early to account for the stubborn London traffic which had proved to be a wise decision as, despite Boba’s driving skill, the journey had still taken more than an hour.

Din hovered by one of the two fountains, not sure where the most convenient place to meet was, given the size of the square. Although the Corinthian pillar that hosted a statue of a British naval hero on top was the focal point of the square, it was busy with tourists attempting to hop on the bronze lions dotted around the base. Din hoped that you would be able to spot him in his current location. He paced around, checking his watch every few minutes and nervously raking his hand through his hair.

“Hi,” a quiet, familiar voice spoke into the warm summer evening and Din immediately spun around, just like that day at the convention when you had caught him looking up at the poster.

“Hi,” Din breathed as he finally looked at you. The sight of you almost caused Din to topple backwards into the fountain. He was almost speechless, as his eyes traversed your body and appreciated the way your outfit complimented your body. “You look incredible,” Din breathed, utterly floored by the sight of you. He had seen you in full-nerd mode at the convention, in your work clothes and dressed down for a casual day at the zoo. But to see you dressed up slightly, with hair and makeup styled to match… you were a breathtaking vision before him and Din could scarcely believe that you were his date. He felt like the luckiest man in the entire world.

“Thank you,” you replied. Din watched as a shy smile crept across your features and you brought your hand to the side of your face, an indication that you were perhaps as nervous as him.

“Do you have any guesses as to the venue for our date?” Din asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. He wondered whether you had clocked how close the meeting point was to the stunning neoclassical building which looked out over the square.

“No, I figured we met here because of its location in central London. It’s close to a lot of notable places,” you shrugged. Din smirked, delighted that what he was going to say next was sure to surprise you.

“Well, I apologise if you’re a bit sick of museums given that you, uh, work in one all week,” Din said, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and squeezing in a self-soothing gesture. “But I remembered what you said during the tour, about a certain painting that always seems to have a crowd of tourists surrounding it…”

“Din! You didn’t!” You exclaimed, clapping your hand over your mouth in shock.

“Would you like to see the sunflowers without a crowd of people gathered around them?” Din asked, although he already knew what your answer would be.

“YES!” You practically squealed. For a moment Din wondered whether you were about to throw your arms around him in excitement as you appeared to move slightly towards him before you stopped in your tracks.

To Din, it appeared that you were holding back somewhat. He panicked that you were disappointed in his outfit, perhaps you had just been too polite to say no to a date. Din shook his head and dismissed those insecure thoughts as the two of you began walking up the stairs towards the stunning museum building. He could not forget the way you had looked at him when you had first turned around. There was definitely something there. Din focused on the building to ground himself, admiring the stunning facade. He gazed up at the portico, with its pillars and the dome on the roof above the pediment. Din hadn’t even stepped foot inside yet and he was already blown away by the beauty of the building. If the works contained inside were as incredible as the exterior, it was certain to be an incredible evening.

A museum worker was waiting at the entrance and she took the two of you inside and gave a brief talk about the rules and expectations for such an exclusive tour. Unlike during his visit to the British Museum, Din had requested that the two of you just be allowed to make your way around alone and, apart from a security guard who would follow you into each room but keep their distance, the two of you would be left to your own devices.

Din gazed up in awe at the dome above the steps that led up to the galleries. There were ornate marble pillars and gold patterns on the marble doorways. Every surface contained remarkable detail, even the mosaic floor, and Din almost felt that he couldn’t possibly take it all in at once. Surely he would have to stand here for hours and commit it all to memory. However, there was an entire, empty museum with untold treasures waiting to be explored.

“Where to start? This place is enormous!” Din remarked.

“Maybe we can start with the older paintings, the Renaissance and the like?” you suggested. “Then we can finish at the modern section, with the Impressionists and Van Gogh.”

“Lead the way,” Din gestured and you obeyed, practically galloping up the stairs towards the Renaissance wing.

Although Din could appreciate the skill that had gone into crafting such masterpieces so many centuries ago, the subjects of most of the paintings meant nothing to him as they mainly depicted religious history. The Creed that Din followed was quite different, with the bullet and sword carving out most of their history rather than the brush and pencil. Most of the figures meant nothing to him, although he was stunned by their attention to detail.

“Not really doing it for you?” You asked, as though able to sense Din’s disinterest with this particular section.

“Um, I mean… I can appreciate the skill but I prefer landscapes and nature, I think,” Din admitted, hoping that you did not think him uncultured. Din was anything but, yet his cultural background was worlds apart from what was depicted in this museum.

“To be honest, me too,” you shrugged. “There are only so many creepy babies and angels that I can stand to look at. I know a section that you’ll like!”

Din was stunned as you moved towards him and reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. He inhaled sharply as the realisation that you had actually taken his hand dawned upon him. Din did not have much time to react as you began leading him through the museum. All earlier nervousness on your end had apparently vanished, as you had actually taken Din's hand in your own. Din was so taken aback by the gesture and the feeling of your warm, soft hand against his, that he almost forgot to begin moving his legs to follow you. Fortunately, he remembered that to actually move forward he had to lift his feet, his brain finally catching up to your gesture. Din followed you to wherever you were taking him, a wide grin on his face as he appreciated the fact that you were joined together. He did not care where you were taking him, as long as the two of you were together.

Din did not have long to ponder where you were going as he was led into a smaller room off the main wings which contained a variety of stunningly detailed, colourful paintings of an incredible array of flowers. Din paused for a few moments, taking in the art in the room, but you were already marching to the centre of the room. Din was disappointed when you dropped his hand and moved further into the room, wishing that the two of you could have held hands all night.

“This is a section with a lot of Dutch flower artists, like de Heem, Ruysch and van Huysum,” you explained. “This one is by Brueghel the Elder. I just love the colours, so vibrant and the lighting is so realistic, it’s easy to forget that this is a painting. It looks almost photo-realistic, despite being over four hundred years old. Sorry, I’m going into tour guide mode, even though this isn’t my museum,” you added, sheepishly.

“Don’t apologise,” Din smiled, closing the distance between the two of you and nodding at you, willing you to continue. He was fascinated by your mind and wanted to hear what you had to say.

“You can see there are some tulips in this one, like the red one up there in the corner. At this time, the Dutch economy was built on tulip prices, people made enormous fortunes speculating on that little flower’s worth. Until, one day, the bubble burst and people lost everything. I think some Dutch people even resorted to eating tulips!”

“That’s fascinating,” Din shook his head as he took in the information. “Something so beautiful, eventually causing so much pain.”

“Yeah…” you breathed.

“Sorry, that was a little depressing,” Din scoffed. “I didn’t mean for it to be.”

“No, it’s alright. Art isn’t created in a vacuum, right? I mean, there’s a story behind every painting. I think it can help you connect with them on a deeper level.”

“It certainly can…” Din agreed, taking another step towards you.

“Um, anyway, perhaps we can head to the modern section,” you blurted out as if wanting to maintain your distance, “I’d like to take advantage of being able to look at the impressionists without people wanting to do a photoshoot by Van Gogh’s sunflowers or Monet’s water lilies,” you offered.

Din nodded in agreement and noticed that this time, you did not take his hand. That nagging feeling of insecurity was slowly creeping into his gut and he did not remotely enjoy the sensation. Why did you seem to be holding back from him? Din could not understand it. Surely, you understood how attracted he was to you?

Din followed you as you practically marched through the museum to the more modern section, stopping only briefly to draw his attention to a Holbein painting called The Ambassadors. Din listened intently as you explained that it was one of the most famous paintings in the gallery. Although he much preferred nature, he could appreciate the details of the clothes and the captivating facial expressions, especially given the size of the canvas. Then, the two of you left the Renaissance wing and moved to where the Impressionists were situated.

Din had followed you closely as you strode purposefully towards the entire reason that Din had arranged a private evening in this museum in the first place. To the most famous piece in the gallery, the one that people from around the country and indeed, the world, travelled to see: Vincent Van Gogh’s sunflowers. Now, Din was standing next to you in quiet contemplation in front of the piece, trying to appreciate every inch and understand what drew you to it.

“I can see why you like it so much,” Din offered. “There’s just something about it that makes you not want to look away.”

“Right? I could stare at it for hours,” you replied. “And honestly, without any tourists here, I might well do that.”

Din huffed a laugh at that. Although he was quietly jealous of the way that you were gazing at the painting of a man who had died over a century ago. Din wanted, more than anything, for you to turn your head and gaze at him with as much reverence as you were looking at the sunflowers.

“It was worth pulling all the strings just to see you so happy,” Din smiled.

You turned your head at that, granting Din’s wish as you looked at him, eyes full of emotion. You opened your mouth as if to say something before subtly shaking your head and seemingly deciding against it.

“Thank you, Din. It means the world to be able to stand here in front of a painting I love so much…”

“Well, can you please tell me more about the sunflowers, my favourite tour guide?”

You shook your head and smiled before you launched into another mini-art history lecture. “It’s my favourite piece because I think most people only understand it on a very surface level, whereas I’ve always thought it was quite a sad piece. A lot of us associate the colour yellow and indeed the sunflowers themselves with happiness, but the story behind this painting is anything but happy,” you paused, looking at Din as if to confirm that he was still interested. Din nodded and you continued: “Vincent was friends with a painter called Paul Gauguin and invited him to come and stay with him in Arles, a city in Southern France because he aspired to set up an art colony. So, while he waited, Vincent spent his days painting the sunflowers, intending that the piece would decorate Gauguin’s room. But he didn’t come. As more and more time passed, it was clear that despite Vincent’s enthusiasm, Gauguin was not in any hurry to join him. That’s why you can see the sunflowers at the bottom are dying,” you explained as you gestured towards the wilted flowers at the bottom of the painting.

Din slowly nodded as he cast his eyes towards the sad sunflowers that he had never noticed before. It suddenly gave the painting a newer, more mournful meaning, a perfect mix of enthusiasm and melancholia that Din found strangely relatable and moving.

“There are a few different versions of the painting, where you can see the sunflowers in various stages of decay. It shows just how lonely he was, in real time. Gauguin did eventually come, but the two of them did not get along. Their frequent explosive rows caused Gauguin to eventually leave, a couple of days before Christmas. The entire experience contributed to Vincent’s declining mental state and he entered an asylum, where he spent most of the last year of his life…” you observed, voice quiet now. “I think it’s strange really, that such a famous painting can be viewed so many different ways and that most people do not know the entire story. A lot of people love Van Gogh, but few people truly understand him. And even fewer, I believe, would want to be associated with him if they lived at the same time as him. We like to think that things would be different now and oddballs like Vincent would be treated better, but I’m not so sure. I think we still live in a world where people who are different are treated terribly and anyone who shows any kind of otherness is ostracised for it. He was misunderstood in life and equally in death, too.”

“Wow…” Din breathed. He knew, of course, that he should have expected more than a surface-level assessment of the piece coming from you. But he was no less stunned by the beautiful words that came out of your mouth, the sentiment expressed and the way you seemingly cared so deeply for the world around you and all of the people in it.

“Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there…” you shook your head.

“Don’t apologise. You’re incredible,” Din reassured, beaming at you. His brown eyes widened in awe of the thoughts you had just shared with him.

The way you bit your lip, blushed and looked down slightly at the floor as if shy about the compliment Din had just paid you only made him all the more determined to shower you with compliments. He vowed that as long as you were in his life, he would not go a single day without complimenting you, without letting you know how incredible he found you.

“Um, I might just sit here for a bit and appreciate the paintings if you’d like to join,” you said, gesturing towards the bench that was just behind the two of you.

Din nodded and followed you to the bench, making sure that he sat close to you and pressed his body against yours. Din positioned himself so that your legs, arms and thighs were touching as you sat on the bench. He was not putting much weight on you, but it was an indication of how close he wanted to get you, and how attracted he felt to you. You were pulling him into your orbit, perhaps without realising it.

“It’s nice to be able to sit here and look at the paintings without a thousand tourists with their phones blocking your view. I mean, I know the sunflowers are the most popular but there is also the painting of the crabs here. I love the textures and colours. Plus that chair, it’s very much like those found in one of my other favourite Van Gogh paintings: The Bedroom. I think the detailing on it shows a….”

Din was well aware that he was not able to contribute to your ramblings, even if he had possessed the knowledge to. He was distracted by the warm weight of your body against his own, the way his pulse quickened just being in this proximity to you. His gaze flitted to your lips, looking so kissable in the shade of lipstick that perfectly complimented your outfit that you had chosen. Din was aware that you were still speaking about your love for the beautiful artworks before you, but your voice seemed distant somehow.

Din knew that if he did what he wanted to and joined his lips to yours there would be no going back. Once he kissed you, it was inevitable that he would dedicate his entire life to you. You had already shown so many traits that he was attracted to with your patience, intelligence and kindness. If his lips claimed yours in a kiss, it would be like crossing the Rubicon, a point of no return.

Din sat there, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he failed to notice that you had stopped speaking. It wasn’t until you shook your head and looked away that Din was aware that he had completely zoned out and given you the misguided impression that he was uninterested in what you had to say.

“Sorry, I was boring you,” you shook your head and averted your gaze, clearly feeling embarrassed. Din felt awful.

“Not at all!” Din exclaimed.

“I know I can go on too much, I’m sorry if I–”

But Din cut your ramblings off, mid-sentence.

“Truthfully, I was just thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now…” Din confessed.

“Then kiss me. I can’t wait much longer,” you breathed.

“Is that what you really want? I mean…”

“Din! If you don’t kiss me already, I’m going to scream!”

Din nodded nervously and brought his arm up as he leaned in. He cupped your jaw in his strong hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb and marvelling at how soft your skin was. He hadn’t even kissed you yet, and already his breaths were so shallow that he feared he might pass out. Din paused a few inches from your face, staring at your lips until you closed your eyes and closed the final distance between you, his eyes squeezing shut as your soft, warm lips touched his.

Din had kissed people before. He had relished the uniquely intimate connection that came from joining one’s lips to another’s. It was something that had always set his heart racing and made him feel light-headed from the momentousness of such an occasion. Kissing you, though, was a different prospect entirely. It was as though every nerve ending in his body was suddenly on fire. The sensation of your lips together, his hand leaving your cheek to cradle the back of your head as the kiss deepened threatened to unleash something feral in Din that he was sure would be entirely inappropriate for a building as beautiful as the National Gallery.

“Um, wow,” you breathed after Din pulled away from the kiss.

Din smirked and raised an eyebrow, pleased that you had seemingly had the same reaction to the kiss as him.

“That was incredible,” you added, confirming the fact.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Din confessed, biting his lip lightly.

“I think I’ve wanted you to for even longer…”

“I’m new to… all of this, dating, you know. I mean, since Grogu, I haven’t felt able to just drop everything and go on dates,” Din explained, clasping his hands together and playing with his fingers, a sign of the nervousness he felt when talking about this. “I just wanted you to know that. I really enjoy spending time with you. I haven’t felt like this for… well, a long time, to be honest. You’re incredibly special and important to me, already, and I would love to spend more time with you.”

“Oh, Din,” you exhaled. “I… I don’t know what to say. Of course, I want to spend more time with you. I’m not very good at this either, I feel like with dating I always come off either too strongly or completely uninterested. But that day when, um, when I saw you at the museum… I was so upset that you were probably going to turn out to be a total creep like every other man I’ve ever given a tour to, because you were so handsome. When you were a complete gentleman it made things much more complicated. I don’t know how I focused on the tour!”

“I would never have guessed, you did a phenomenal job,” Din praised.

“Thank you,” you breathed. “I would love to see you again, as soon as possible. I’m um… I’m free all weekend, if that’s convenient for you.”

“So am I,” Din smiled. “I was thinking after leaving the museum, we could go for a drink somewhere together, if you have any recommendations.”

“Sounds perfect,” you breathed.

Din leaned in for another kiss. Now that that particular barrier had been broken, he was going to make a point of stealing as many kisses from your lips as possible. As your soft lips moved against his and he cupped your cheeks with his hands, Din knew that kissing you like this was something he would never tire of. When you eventually pulled away for some much-needed air, Din leaned his forehead against yours and the two of you smiled shyly, giggling breathlessly as you relished your newfound closeness.

“I’m so lucky our paths crossed,” Din sighed.

For a moment, it was so easy to forget about how exactly your paths had first crossed. The fact that Din had seen you and began to feel things for you long before you ever knew it. Din felt a pang of guilt at the gravity of the secret he was keeping from you, but then he reminded himself of all the reasons this was important. Din had no doubts that you were an honourable, trustworthy person, but there was no way he could sacrifice the privacy and security of his son at this early stage. Din consoled himself in that moment by reminding himself that he had never knowingly lied to you. This was your first date, after all, he reminded himself to live in the moment and to stop thinking several steps ahead. One day, you would know the truth, one day.

✯ ✯ ✯

As Din gazed across the table at you, your elbow resting on the immaculate wooden surface and your hand cupping your chin slightly as you threw your head back in laughter, he was completely captivated by your effortless beauty. You were giggling at a memory Din was sharing of his time as a stuntman, albeit with the story attributed to a non-existent friend to avoid revealing that he worked in the film industry. The bar that you had found was underground and dimly lit, save for the lamps that sat on every table. It was modelled after a prohibition-era speakeasy and it was no surprise to Din that you had suggested it, given your passion for history.

After you had left the museum, Din and you held hands and walked briskly through the cooling London evening. It was still reasonably warm, mercifully summer had finally arrived but compared to the thin clothes that both of you had set out in, the temperature had significantly dropped. Luckily, the bar was well-heated despite being located underground. There was ambient jazz music playing and the buzz of people enjoying their Friday nights with prohibition-themed cocktails.

Din had swapped stories with you, the two of you learning more details about the others’ lives. Din found that he was surprisingly adept at obscuring the truth and removing key identifying features of his anecdotes. There was so much of his life, including the fact that he was a real Mandalorian, that he had to hide from you. But there was an equal amount that he could share, even if told from a slightly different perspective. Din loved hearing about your life too, your hopes, fears and dreams. He thought that you were one of the most interesting people that he had ever met, even if there was an occasional air of insecurity to you that he struggled to understand, given all of your talents.

Din smiled as he watched you stand up from the table and walk to the bathroom. You were still as stunning, even in the dim lights of the bar. His good mood did not last though when he pulled out his phone to pass the time in your absence and noticed, with a frown, that there was a new text from Jim.

Din’s heart sank when he read the message notification on his lockscreen:

Hi Din, Sorry for the late notice but you are needed on set tomorrow for pickups. Promise we will make it up to you next week. Jim

Din threw his head back and sighed. The promise of a free weekend, especially when he desperately needed one, had been cruelly snatched away from him. The vow that he had made to you in the museum that you would meet up again this weekend now looked set to be broken. It was not going to be the nicest end to a first date, to let you down due to a last-minute work commitment. Din sighed, showing his frustration over how unfair this all was.

His heart sank further when you returned from the bathroom and the first words out of your mouth were attempting to arrange another time to meet up this weekend.

“I was thinking tomorrow, maybe we could meet up at this park near me, perhaps you can bring Grogu?” You suggested after you slid into the booth opposite Din. “I think there’s a play area, he’d probably love it.”

“I’m so sorry to let you down like this… I can’t. My boss just texted me and told me that I’m needed at work tomorrow,” Din sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m so sorry, I really wanted to spend time with you.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you looked down dejectedly. “What about Sunday?”

“I think the disruption to Grogu’s routine of me going to work tomorrow will mean that I should probably spend the day with him on Sunday, to make sure that he’s alright,” Din replied apologetically. “Look, I’m so sorry about this. It’s not personal at all, but Grogu… he is my only priority. I have to do what’s best for him and an entire weekend of his routine being disrupted… it would be too much for him. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Din winced at the disappointment he saw in your eyes, at how despondent and let-down you looked. He knew that he would make it up to you, he was a man of his word. He only hoped that you would give him a chance to.

“Okay, Din,” you smiled weakly. “Um, look, I should probably start heading home soon before the tube stops running.”

“Well, I was thinking we could stay a little longer. You could get a ride home in the car with me if you’d like?”

“Thanks for the offer but I know my route back home and I’m happy to take it,” you replied and Din felt uneasy at how distant you suddenly seemed to be, as though you were withdrawing from him and retreating into your shell.

“Okay,” Din breathed. “Let me get the bill.”

Din hailed a waiter and paid for both of your drinks, on a company credit card, another perk of the job. Then the two of you slid out of the booth and made your way back up to street level, feeling rather like two moles that had just emerged from their holes after spending many months underground. Din was astonished that it was approaching midnight, all sense of time seemed to have vanished in the basement bar.

“I had a wonderful night with you,” Din said as he offered you his arm, which you took, looping your hand through his arm and resting your hand on his toned bicep. “I really am sorry about this weekend. Work said they will make it up to me, so I should be able to ensure that this does not happen again next weekend. Are you free then?

“I should be, yeah,” you smiled and Din felt relieved that your demeanour had lightened somewhat. “I was just a little shocked, it felt a little personal,”

“No, never,” Din said, stopping in the street and shaking his head definitively as he looked into your eyes, hoping that you sensed how much he had enjoyed your evening together. “I meant everything I said in the museum, you are incredibly important to me.”

Maybe it was the slight buzz from the alcohol, or maybe it was the way you were currently gazing at Din, but he suddenly felt a little lightheaded as you finally arrived outside the station.

“Thank you for this incredible evening, Din,” you smiled, as the two of you stood facing each other just outside the entrance to the tube station. “See you next weekend?”

“See you next weekend,” Din nodded. “I’ll text you in the week.”

Then, Din felt his pulse quicken as you closed the distance to him and pulled him into another kiss. It was more intimate this time, with your hands resting on his shoulders as his hands moved to the back of your head. The kiss was probably slightly more passionate than was appropriate for such a public place, but the cocktails and the intoxicating buzz that came from being around you meant that Din did not remotely care.

“Goodnight, Din,” you whispered against his lips after pulling away from the embrace, before turning and walking into the station.

Din stood there for a few minutes in your wake, fixed to the spot even after he had watched you disappear into the tube station. He could not bring himself to move, as though this spot where you had just kissed provided some tangible connection to you that lingered even after you were gone. Din wanted time to hurry up so that he could be in your presence again, knowing that the rest of the week would feel dull and unimaginative compared to the vibrant, inspiring few hours that he had just spent with you.

Din Djarin had often wondered what falling in love would feel like. He had long since given up on the hope that he would ever experience such an emotion.

Yet the butterflies in his stomach and smile that he still wore across his face, even after you were no longer at his side, suggested that he might just be on his way to finding out.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

#my fics #tbobw #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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eclairfromleclerc · 1 year

Text

Hello everyone. It’s been a long long time since I posted here but I guess life has caught up. I have been writing this chapter for god knows how long because I just couldn’t bring myself to write certain scenes. I still have so many ideas and directions about where this fic can go but as you understand, I need my time to actually try and write those ideas. I am now giving you the 8th chapter of this story which is a generous 14.6 K words to make up for my long long absence. I really hope there will be people still interested to read this. Always keep in mind that english isn’t my native language so pardon any mistakes or inclarities. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wait patiently for the next part. Take Care, xx.

All’s Fair

(Toto Wolff x Reader) Chapter 8

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

Landing in Jeddah feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, after closing the deal with the Bahraini investors from your Monday meeting, is the only thing you could have asked for. Nothing has been bothering you for the past few days but the fact that Christian still hasn't said anything about you being late to your meeting, made you feel a little weird. Your little text exchanges with Toto made up for the whole madness.

As soon as your phone connects to the network you see a new notification popping up.

Christian Dad Horner

No need to come over today, I got everything scheduled for the press, me and Helmut will handle it

Get some rest.

You raise your eyebrow reading , not knowing what your father is up to. Is he drunk? Is he out of his mind? You lock your phone and get off the plane. You check in your hotel, go to your room and settle in. As you take your clothes off your suitcase you find once again Toto’s Mercedes shirt in it and you take it out and put it on a hanger and in your closet. Thursdays are supposed to be a fun day in the paddock because of all the media and generally relaxed vibe that everyone has. The fact that no sessions take place on Thursdays doesn’t mean everyone isn’t working hard but still Christian thought your presence was not necessary, so here you are. Your phone rings with a new notification

Wolff

What’s your schedule for the press today?

You

Christian told me he and Helmut will handle it, I won’t be joining today

I am just bored, sitting in my hotel room

You open the camera on the app and snap a picture of your computer on your bed and some snacks nearby and you hit send

Wolff

So you get to relax.

Enjoy it for all of us who have to work

You

Will do :)

You spend the rest of your day in your room and meet Max to grab dinner at the hotel restaurant. Much less eventful for a usual race week Thursday.

The next day you wake up, have breakfast and get ready to leave for the track. You check you have everything you need with you including your iPad and your badge to get in the paddock and you drive the Aston Martin, you lease for the weekend, to the track. You get to the entrance and scan your badge. To your surprise the screen in front of you shows a red cross and a message saying ‘Access Denied’. You try once again but the same message appears. You reach for your phone to call Christian to get you from the entrance. You wait for a couple of seconds before you hear his voice, the noise from the garage familiar to your ears.

“Hey Dad”

“Hello” you hear him answering

“It seems like my pass isn’t working, can you please come here and let me through?” you ask

“Oh I am quite busy right now sweetheart.”

“Can you send someone else instead?”

“Um, I am sorry I have to tell you this but there’s a reason why your pass isn’t working.”

“What ?”

“It is going to remain like this for sometime, before I trust you to come back to the team”

“Did you cancel my pass because of what happened on Monday?”

“You should have been ready for this. I can’t discuss it more right now, we are having a meeting before FP1”

“Can you at least let me know about the meeting?”

“No, you are not in the team currently so, nothing to share. Feel free to fly back to England or Monaco with the next flight you find” Christian tells you and then ends the call.

Thank god you thought about moving a bit further from the entrance so no one heard your discussion with your father. You feel a rush of anger coming at you but you hold yourself and walk as gracefully as you can back to your car, as people are watching you. You drive off the track and you pull over at the first parking space you see. You sit there in silence, since you were so confused that you didn’t even think to put some of your playlists on, and you try to realize what is happening. You let out a scream and tears roll over your face as you think of your father and all his five year old antics. But then you get the best and the worst idea you could possibly come up with. You drive fast back to your hotel and you run to your suite. You open the closet, grab Toto’s Mercedes shirt, stuff it in your new bag that you haven’t worn in public, put on some tight black pants, some flat shoes and search furiously for that Mercedes face mask that Toto gave you that day in your travel bag. You get back to your car and drive to the track again, pulling over to wear the shirt and making yourself look like a mercedes employee. You leave the car a bit farther than usual so that fans don’t recognize you coming out of the car with the Mercedes gear. You once again walk to the paddock entrance. Hair tied on a bun, face mask and huge Gucci sunglasses covering your face. You get there not having thought of a way to get in. So you go with your instincts.

“Hey” you say to the security guard.

“Hi, how may I help you?”

“Um, I am a new employee for Mercedes but I can’t seem to find my badge to get in.” you say with the best American accent that you have. Not that it mattered since the guard was Saudi Arabian. “Can you maybe call Mr. Wolff to come here? I’ll explain the situation to him”

“I’ll reach Mr Lord.” he says

“No, no. You should call Mr.Wolff instead. I am not sure Mr. Lord is aware of my arrival here.”

“I’ll try to call Mr. Wolff then.”

5 minutes later you see the Austrian walking to the entrance of the paddock and on his way there he waves to people, greets others and takes some photos.

He goes to the security guard that called him

“What is it?” he asks

“This lady claimed that she’s a new employee for your team but she seems to have lost her badge, she insisted that I should call you instead of Mr. Lord.”

Toto turns to look at you and you don’t hesitate. If you are going to get in, this is your chance.

“Hello Mr. Wolff. My name is Mindy Roosevelt, I am here from the American branch of Daimler.” you say-again in your american accent- not being even 1% sure that you are making any sense. “I was sent here to assist you but it has been a really tricky week for me.” you look at Toto and he looks as confused as ever. “I was supposed to be here yesterday but my flight was canceled so I had to travel to Abu Dhabi to catch a connecting flight.” you try to give him hints of who you are, not being sure he understands. “ I had to look for the advisor of Daimler US Anri Hakkassan to give me my badge but then my wallet got stolen at the airport so I was left without a badge and my ID to show you who I am.” you see Toto’s eyes getting wider and wider as he realizes who you are. Your story seemed convincing for the security guard but Toto can’t leave you outside. He takes a deep breath

“Ah yes miss Roosevelt I was waiting for you all day. Sorry to hear this. Come on.” he says and signals to the guard to let you through. You walk in the paddock and to the Mercedes hospitality, Toto not hesitating for a minute at the thought of you coming from another team. As soon as you both get in you see Bradley drinking coffee in the main lounge area of the motorhome and he greets you.

“I don’t want anyone bothering me for the next half an hour at least” he says to Bradley and he walks to his office as you follow him closely. You close the door behind you and Toto reaches and locks it. You take off your mask trying to apologize for the mess you’ve created.

“I am so sorry Toto” you say and you hear him laugh

“What is this?” he asks as he continues laughing

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I am just wondering how the hell you got yourself in this situation.”

“Christian blocked my paddock pass”

“He did what?” he asks looking slightly amused

“This isn’t funny Toto, you know how much I love being in the team”

“That’s why you are hijacking my team?” he asks

“Christian thought that removing me from the team for a couple of races is a good way to punish me for being late at that meeting we had.”

“He did it just because you were 35 minutes late?”

“You don’t realize Christian has a mind of a five year old when it’s about work right?”

“You said the investors were not mad that you were late, you even managed to charm them into signing a deal.”

“Yeah but Christian was mad, and he says it’s not about the investment, it’s about basic work ethic. Anyways, I can’t buy a paddock pass because I am not the type to sit in the lounge to watch the race. I need to be in the team. Plus I can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me depressed because I am not at the pitwall or the garage.”

“How stubborn.”

“Yeah I am.”

“That’s very Horner of you.” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his obvious reference to your father’s stubbornness.

“You are my only chance Toto, the other teams don’t even have a reason to accept me, except from Alpha Tauri, but I can’t go begging Franz about a paddock pass when he is clearly influenced by my dad.”

“Why are we even your only chance, we are your main competitors.” he asks

“I swear to god Toto I will do anything just to be here until Christian decides to drop the farce that he started. I will sign an NDA, I will keep my mouth shut about anything I see, I will delete it from my mind. Just let me be in the garage for the next few races.”

“How many races?” he looks at you

“I don’t know 3 maybe 4?” you tell him barely whispering.

“That’s a lot.” he replies “But for you I’ll try to do my best.”

You try not to scream as you stand up from your seat, walk to his chair and hug him. You catch him off guard as he widens his eyes but then you feel his tension leaving him.

“From now on you are Mindy Roosvelt and you came here to assist me as a part of your internship at Daimler US. You studied in New York, and you are American. You don’t know for how many races you’ll be here but it’s not long term.” Toto says taking his teacher look

“Understood.”

“You should never remove your mask in front of others, just tell them that you are at risk or something. Don’t wear high heels. We should do something about your hair so that people won’t realize it’s you and I advise you to wear sunglasses as much as possible, I’ll have Lewis hand me his collection from the Police Collaboration.”

“I’ll buy a wig. Can I have some more shirts and a couple of masks?”

“Is this shirt mine?” he asks and you nod “Looks good on you.” he says

“I’ll use yours then.” you tell him and you see him grinning.

“I’ll have someone send you a couple of shirts, pants and shoes. I'll request your new paddock pass and I will be printing your NDA.”

“If anything leaks into Red Bull I swear I’ll be the first to go to court even if I am innocent.” you tell him and he laughs “Don’t laugh, I need you to see how serious I am about this. I won’t be saying anything to anyone.”

“I trust you. The NDA part is only about the team having to be legally protected.”

“Okay” you say

“Your office must be ready. It’s just the room next door, please lock it when you’re in.” he advises you “And please don’t forget your American accent once you go outside.”

“I won’t forget. If we happen to see Christian around, just stay calm, I’ll handle it.”

“Okay” he says and you sit in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I’ll go next door now.” you say and you stand up. “Oh sorry Toto, can I ask you about one last thing?”

“What is it?”

“Christian told me that I am free to leave with the next flight so I will be checking out of the hotel and I thought maybe I should be at the Mercedes hotel?”

“I’ll arrange it. See you later.” he replies as you put on your mask and go to the room next door.

20 minutes later you hear the door knocking, you stand up and reach for it

“Who is this?”

“Miss Roosevelt, I am Mariah. Mr. Wolff gave me something for you.”

You put your mask on and open the door

“Come on in.” you tell her and she steps into your fake office

“I have this new iPad for you, Toto wanted you to have this. It has all of the passwords you’ll need and direct access to Toto’s schedule so you’ll know where you will be going and what you’ll be doing.”

“What passwords are there?”

“Company email, team communications and private accounts.”

“Okay thank you Mariah.”

“If you need anything else please do not hesitate to ask me, have a nice day.” she tells you and she leaves the office as you lock the door and remove your mask

You reach for your phone and text Toto

You

Didn’t need to have access to all of this

Wolff

You have to If we are planning this lie correctly.

I also sent you the details on your company email about the hotel room. I arranged it.

You

Give me a minute I’ll have to get used to all of this.

The iPad is nice, I’ll give it back once I get all the details.

Wolff

Adaptability is key

Keep the iPad I don’t want you walking around the paddock with your old one, it’s practically a part of your looks, everyone will realize it’s you

Wolff

Anyways gotta work, I will be in the garage with Nyck for FP1, you’re welcome to hang by the fantasy island if you ever get the energy.

For any question just text or call.

You sit around for a while until your phone rings with a new notification from your calendar for the session starting in 5 minutes and as soon as you get it you stand up and leave for the garage. This time though it feels different. You used to take all your stuff with you in your pit wall seat but now there’s no pitwall seat, you’ll be just standing next to Toto, in the garage. You never got to stay in the garage, Christian always made sure you had a place at the pitwall, the garage was essentially a passage to get from the hospitality to the pitwall. You never spent a whole session in there, but now you will. The difference is the garage is not the one you are used to. It’s the Mercedes one and it’s clean, organized and much more hospitable than the one at Red Bull. At the long entrance of the garage there’s someone looking at you, making sure that you’re one of them. Little does he know, you think.

“I am looking for Mr. Wolff.” you tell him

“He’s sat at the fantasy island with Nyck. You’ll see them once you get in.”

And you certainly do. The fantasy island splits the garage in two smaller ones for the two drivers of Mercedes, you get next to Toto and you don’t say a word. You look around you trying to take everything in, how the garage looks, how everyone is focused on what they’re doing and Toto next to you trying to manage everything that’s happening. He’s too far in to realize that you’re next to him and he nearly jumps as you touch his arm.

“Sorry” you say quietly behind your mask.

“It’s okay, I never realized that you came.”

“Well, I couldn’t turn down the proposal, plus I am supposed to be your assistant so I have to be with you.”

“I am not complaining.” he says and thank god Nyck is too busy chatting with Bradley next to you. Bradley hasn’t asked anything about you, he just keeps looking and staring at you but he’s not saying anything.

For the next half an hour you see Lewis and George doing their laps, coming and leaving the garage during the session but during all this time you realize that you haven’t looked at the RedBull’s performances. The Mercedes garage felt like home for some reason. You weren’t doing nothing, you were just standing with your headphones on hearing comments about the car that you swear to yourself that you will never reveal to your team. Next to you Toto sits and watches the whole team working like a well oiled machine that he engineered. You are sure that he feels proud of himself, he has that grin on his face that makes you think so. You don’t know him really well but you have learned to pick some of those signs from the times that you’ve seen him around or that you’ve hung out with him. Again all of your thoughts are interrupted by a vibration from your pocket where your phone is. Goddamn it. Another calendar reminder but this time it is from Toto’s calendar that you’ve managed to sync to your iPhone earlier.

Meeting: Team Principals, FIA and F1. (1 assistant is allowed to attend)

You widen your eyes at the notification and you tap Toto’s shoulder who is watching the timings and the data in front of him. He turns to look at you and removes the headphone from your side. You do the same but you realize Nyck is looking at you.

“Sir, I just got a notification about your meeting with the F1 and FIA execs.”

“It is half an hour after the session ends right?”

“Yes but am I required to attend?” you ask

“Miss Roosevelt I believe that you were asked to be here as my assistant so since the meeting allows assistants it is your duty to be there.”

“Okay Mr. Wolff” you say and put your headphones back on to watch the rest of the session.

“If you feel uncomfortable just excuse yourself and leave.” he turns and tells you and you nod.

After the session in which your cars -yes, Mercedes cars- finish 1 and 3 you leave the garage and go back to the hospitality while waiting for Toto to finish his press duties.

Wolff

I am done with my interviews, meet you outside our hospitality in 5?

You

Yes, I will be there.

You leave and find him at the spot he told you to. You walk side by side to the race control building where the meeting is supposed to take place, him towering over you and you feeling miniscule beside him. When you are just outside Alpha Tauri’s garage you see your dad discussing with Franz and you roll your eyes praying that they will just let you go by. You get temporarily relieved when you are already past them but of course Christian has to talk to you. The man is trouble without trying. You hear him yelling “Hey Toto” from your back and you turn to face him. Toto frowns a bit but his expressions are mostly covered by his sunglasses.

“Are you heading to the meeting?” Christian asks

“We are, yes.” Toto replies as you keep walking, Christian catching up with you. You take a sharp breath trying to persuade yourself that he won’t understand who you are. You’ve got your face covered after all.

“I’ll join you.” Christian announces not even asking Toto who is clearly getting angrier. “I don’t believe we’ve met before” he says and turns to you.

You freeze but you regain your strength and reply to him “No, we actually haven't.”

“I am Christian Horner, team principal of Red Bull Racing.”

“Mindy Roosevelt, nice to meet you.” you say in your best American accent hoping that you won’t get recognized.

“And you work for Mercedes I see. Let me guess’ Public Relations?”

“No, I am here to assist Mr. Wolff for a couple of races, it is something like an internship from the American branch of Daimler.”

“I figured from the accent that you might be American.” Christian replies “Are you planning on staying at Daimler or leaving to get a job at motorsport?”

“I don’t know yet I’ll see where it gets me.” you answer

“If you plan on staying here please text me your details, I got a very interesting assistant position for you.”

“You had your daughter as your assistant from the beginning of the season, what happened to her?” you ask, trying to understand what he’s doing but you hear his phone ringing.

“It’s complicated with her, I need something stable, and I know Wolff always gets the best of the best so I might have to get a taste.” he replies as Toto, who was silent before, scoffs in the background. Christian checks his phone and excuses himself as he runs back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality center.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding as you are walking to the meeting.

“Red Bull will be trying to have technical directives for the next few races to try and stop us.” Toto says.

“I know, I built that case and all the arguments. I know exactly what to say to convince the FIA in favor of Red Bull.” you reply “Can I talk during the meeting?” you ask

“What do you mean talk?”

“Like defending our team’s points, why technical directives shouldn’t be changed, and counterarguments.”

“No, your role is the one of the assistant, not the meeting participant. You will only be allowed there to keep notes.”

“I can write my points to you and you can read them and elaborate more, can’t I?”

“Yes, you can write notes for me to read.”

“Nice, let’s get no regulation change for today.”

“Isn’t this bad for Red Bull?”Toto asks

“Right now I am working for Mercedes, and Mercedes is only treating me right.” you answer

Toto raises his eyebrows “I am both flattered and surprised by the fact that you want to favor us.”

“You know what Toto? I am tired of thinking how Christian and Helmut will be using my case to present in this meeting. I worked hard for this and I was supposed to present my point. This meeting was supposed to be my first one.”

“Didn’t you go when you were younger?”

“No, I didn’t Christian always had his assistant with him and never managed to get me in even when I started working part-time for him. It is frustrating to see how your own father looks to replace you at a job. And now the team that I accidentally got in, even has the ability to read my notes and present a solid case.”

Toto doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you, his body language revealing that he is scared to say anything to you.

“Am I really that bad?” you ask

“No. Don’t you ever say that again. You were great, you got a deal with some investors, you helped run a team and you are doing a good job at even being an assistant in the team you probably hated the most.”

10 minutes later you are already sitting at a long table. Toto is sitting on your left. You take your new iPad and a Mercedes notepad with a matching pen and rest it on the conference table in front of you as team principals and other officials are taking their seats to start the meetings. Once everyone is gathered there Stefano starts the meeting with all the formalities needed the conversation starts and after a while you start discussing the burning issue. You open your updated document that you had created this morning with all the arguments and the possible answers that could be said from Mercedes’ side, those ones you hadn’t given to your father. This was only to help your presentation to get the regulations changed but now you are using it for the opposite reason. Christian finishes presenting all the planned points and it’s time for Toto to express his opinion. You managed to write a couple of things on paper and showed him some of the points that he needs to discuss. The man has done this countless times you’re sure but he’s totally letting you handle this.

“Okay, this is an answer to Christian’s concerns about how the regulations right now are not in the right direction. I do not have an exact answer to each and every point of Christian’s speech but I will be trying to get most of them.” he says and glances at the paper in front of him “I’ll start by Christian’s point that the issue affects multiple teams, when in fact it’s not even the majority of the grid that faces the issue that you are aiming to get changed. I can’t see the reason for the regulation change, clearly it’s not that dangerous to drivers health according to doctors and also it would be a huge waste of our resources to just redesign certain aspects of the car when we have the budget cap this year. That’s how I see it.” Toto finishes his monologue and all the eyes are on him.

“Clearly there will be a vote for this.” Stefano says

“Thank you for the notes.” Toto says turning to you and you nod back

Later on the vote takes place and the results are the ones that you expected. That means increased performance from Mercedes and Red Bull chasing them right behind. In other circumstances you would be fuming but now you are happy Mercedes got the chance to stop the regulation changes with your help. The meeting ends and you lobby around for a little longer but afterwards you are back to the paddock walking to the garage for the second practice session. Toto walks by your side and you feel he wants to ask you about what happened there but before he can you inform him you will need some time in your office and you leave him behind.

You get back to your office and you text your friend Sara who lives in Monaco

You

Are you in Monaco?

Sara

Of course I am in Monaco.

The question is where are you?

You

Issues with dad, he won’t let me enter the paddock because I was late in a business meeting and now he removed me from the team

Still in Jeddah though

Listen, I need a favor from you and your magic contacts in Monaco

Sara

I don’t wish to know more about the dad-daughter drama

But I am here to help you with whatever you want

You

I need a place to stay in Monaco

Sara

You can crash on mine or I’ll book you a hotel

You

I am thinking more of an apartment tbh

Sara

How long do you plan on staying here?

You

Permanently?

Sara

OMG, you’ll become a fellow Monegasque?

I will be in contact with my estate agent

You

Yes, I am planning to finally start living in Monaco. I don’t even know if Christian will take me back to the team to be honest but even if he does I can still live in Oxfordshire or in my apartment in London.

Sara

How fast do you need it?

You

As soon as possible please

You lock your phone as you take a deep breath to realize the decision that you just took. Moving to Monaco has always been your dream, since you have been to the Grand Prix there you fell in love with the place and you have spent quite some time in Sara’s house during the summer when you were younger. But now you want to do this alone, you want to feel independent in the country that you loved so much. You immediately think of contacting your father. You decide email is the best option. If he wants to be a bitch so will you

Hello father,

I am sending this email to inform you about my decisions. I will be moving to Monaco in the next couple of weeks, on my own. I believe I will be able to make my own living with the money I currently have. I am requesting my last paycheck from the team since I have been fired and I am not aware of your intentions to hire me back or not. I wish that my personal space in our estate in Oxfordshire remains unchanged in case I am able to return to my obligations to the team, and I inform you that the apartment in London will still be mine. I am still in Saudi Arabia arranging my flight to Monaco. I will be quite busy during the next few weeks so I will not be able to contact you. Should you decide that I am able to come back to the team please inform me.

Wishing you the best.

And send.

You go back to the garage 20 minutes in the session and you spot Toto sitting alone at the top of the fantasy island wearing a pair of headphones while another one is resting on the desk in front of him. You go to his right and check the timings. Currently Mercedes 1-2. He looks at you and removes the headset so he can listen. He hands you the spare headset.

“Isn’t this Nyck’s?” you ask

“No this is yours, Nyck is not joining us at this session.”

“Thank you” you say and you wear the headphones

During the rest of the session Toto shows you all the graphs about the car performance as well as all the communications systems in the team. You are convinced that he is not supposed to do that, it’s knowledge that an assistant could live without knowing and wouldn’t affect their job but still he seems so invested in letting you understand how the team works. This experience is not about gathering information for Red Bull, you think. It’s more about how a team should be and how correct management is done. Something that you feel is missing from Red Bull. The session finishes and Lewis and George are back to the garage with another top 3 finish for the team.

As soon as your day ends you drive your Aston Martin back to the Red Bull hotel, pack your baggage, check out and drive to the airport where you are supposed to leave the car. When you manage to do so you go to the car rental area of the airport and visit the kiosk of the company Toto texted you about and get the keys to a brand new Mercedes AMG. Shortly after that you get dressed with your Mercedes gear once again and drive to the Ritz-Carlton to check into your new room.

Turns out Toto has not only arranged a room for you but it’s also a huge fucking suite that you’re sure most Mercedes employees wouldn’t even consider having. You take a look at the suite and you open the closet door to find it full of Mercedes team shirts, hilfiger pants and the usual Mercedes designed puma shoes. You snap a picture of the closet and you decide to document those weeks of alternate reality that you are currently living in.

When the anxiety of the weirdest day you’ve lived wears off you check your phone for your newest messages

Sara

Gerard just reached out to me.

He has a wonderful loft 2,5 km from the Quartier Du Port.

Generally peaceful location

Sea views as well

Let me know if you want to see it.

You

If you can go there and get some pictures please do. Thank you <3

After that long day you realize that you didn’t get the chance to have a proper meal so you decide to order room service to finally eat something. You think of how pathetic it would look if you eat alone in this huge suite and before you can even cope with that thought you reach for your phone and call Toto. He picks up after 2 rings

“Hello” he says

“Hi, how’s everything?”

“Good, I am getting ready to go downstairs to the restaurant to have dinner, how are you?” “Oh same I was thinking of getting some room service for dinner since I can’t actually go to the restaurant to eat, but the suite is big enough to not feel restricted in one room. Thanks for that by the way.”

“I am sure you’ve only lived in suites for the whole year now so I thought why not. Don’t let the rest of the team know that though.” he says and you hear his laugh on the phone. You stay quiet and he does the same but when you actually decide to say something he speaks again “Maybe we can have dinner together now” he says.

“That’s why I called you in the first place” you admit, but you think you definitely sound a bit in despair. “I can’t order food for two people though it might seem weird.”

“You can come over to my suite, I’ll make sure that it will look as if I am having a meeting with either James or Shov.” he suggests

“Is it okay?” you ask again

“Definitely, I will be ready in 10, suite 264. See you.” he says and terminates the call.

You take a look at the closet trying to decide what to wear. You choose a graphic t-shirt and your most comfortable pants paired with your white sneakers, the only flat pair of shoes that you carried with you. You take a look at the mirror, readjust your hair, put on a nude lipstick and after 10 minutes you are finally ready to leave. You put on your mask because your goal for today isn’t getting caught from walking in some hotel corridor and you navigate your way to suite 264, you knock on the door and Toto is right there letting you in. He’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a gray T-shirt but he is barefoot.

“Hey” you say and you walk in the suite looking around. It does look like your suite when it comes to furniture but the rooms are a little more private. There’s a desk that has turned out to be more like Toto’s office for the weekend. You sit on the couch while he closes the door behind you and walks in the living room. You take your mask off and sit there looking at the ceiling. Toto stands in front of you with a menu card in hand.

“I was thinking, maybe pasta?” he tells you

“That’s what I planned to order today.” you laugh as Toto reaches for the phone on the table next to the couch and orders 2 plates of pasta ai funghi with two glasses of red wine.

“They’ll be here in 30 minutes” he tells you

“Great” you reply and stand up. You look at the place around you, stand up and walk to the desk. You sit on the only chair there and you put on his round glasses and put on your serious face as you move your fingers on the mousepad of his mac which -to your surprise- is unlocked so you are able to navigate in his computer. You open up his email but still he doesn’t react even though you are looking at you closely and you start typing and reading out loud.

“Hey Michael, I am just sending you an email.” you say and you keep being serious while you hear Toto bursting in laughter at the couch.

“Lewis is the best of all time, he did nothing wrong, everything is red bull's fault.” you say again and he keeps looking at you.

You keep joking, acting like you are typing a new email “Hey FIA, it’s Toto, please let us use the das. It's a great innovation and we are so smart to think about it. We are not illegal, or at least that’s what James Allison and Shov said. It’s not our fault that we are both smart and sexy. Thank you in advance.”

“That’s not what I said” he laughs

“I’ll need proof for that.” you say “Would I make a good Toto Wolff?”

“The best. I’ll be sure to leave you in my position once I retire.”

“What will Daimler say for that though?”

“You are doing your training so why would they have an issue?” he replies and you laugh.

“Isn’t this suite a bit too big just for you?” you ask

“You have the same one but yeah it is a bit big.”

“Mine isn’t as big.” you say “Most times I feel lonely in those suites. Mine don’t have kitchens though.”

“You cook? Too bad we have ordered already.”

“Maybe another time.” you say and you hear the door knocking.

“Quite fast.” Toto says and he stands up to open the door.

You walk around the suite once again and enter his bedroom and look at the open closet which is once again full of Mercedes button ons so you grab one and put it on. You hear Toto talking and you go back to the living room but he’s still talking to the person outside the door.

“I am kinda busy here Cynthia. I am sorry.” you hear him say

“Please Toto.” a female voice replies “Is there someone else? Is that why you ordered two plates, two glasses of wine?” she asks

“Cynthia I am in the middle of a very important business meeting, it’s about tomorrow’s qualifying and James is waiting inside to eat so that we can continue our meeting. Thank you for the service.”

“Will you call me when you are done?”

“I will be asleep when we are done.Thank you” he says and closes the door.

You stand there in his living room wearing his button up feeling stupid for believing this thing could go anywhere further.

“I should get going.” you say

“Now that the food is here?” he asks but you don’t reply, “Is this shirt mine? Are you going to take this one too?”

“I will get back to my suite and you can call Cynthia, or whatever her name is, and tell her that James is gone and that you are okay for her to come back and do whatever you two do together.”

“Wait, are you jealous? Of Cynthia?”

“I am not jealous, just not in the position to get involved with someone who’s fucking around with the girl who brought him room service 3 times.”

“I am not involved with her.” he says

“Well she seemed awfully too comfortable to be just a stranger Toto.”

“What do you want to hear?” he asks

“That you’ve fucked her?” you tell him

“We slept together once last year.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. Goodbye Toto.” you say as you walk towards the door, his shirt still hanging on your shoulders but before you can leave he manages to grab your hand

“I only saw her once this year and I just said hi. We hadn’t spoken since last year but as soon as I arrived she didn't stop appearing in my way. She had reached out several times since we left last year but I never got back to her.”

“So she’s nothing to you?”

“She was just a fling.” he replies and you turn around to sit on the dining table.

“Fine” you say, irritation apparent in your voice “Am I just a fling?” you ask yourself in your head so you decide to ask the same to Toto who is holding the pasta plates leaving one in front of you and one opposite to you on the table. He doesn’t answer, instead he does the same with the two glasses of wine. His silence makes you feel like his answer is not the one that you want to hear but as he leaves the glasses on the table he doesn’t sit down, he stays there towering over you and looking at you.

“If it was just a fling I wouldn’t risk destroying my team for it. Also I wouldn’t have done anything that I’ve done for you in any case.” he replies. “Technically you can’t even call it a fling because we only made out two or three times and we were drunk.” he says and just stays still “And still there are two glasses of wine that I ordered on that table. I am never going to learn, am I ?” he laughs

“Sorry ?” you ask but he leans in, reaches for your face and kisses you catching you off guard. You stay still in your chair as he sits opposite to you not saying anything

“The wine is red” he says then

“I can see that.” you reply

“They say that red wine can get you drunk easier.”

You try to understand where he’s going with this

“And?”

“We haven’t drunk any of it yet so we are sober”

“Why are you explaining this to me like I’ve never drunk before?”

“This is the most sober that I will be tonight and you said that I didn’t have the guts to make a move without being drunk.” he says

“You won’t get drunk with a glass of wine Toto.”

“I know I won’t but still I didn’t want you to blame this on a single drop of alcohol.” he replies and you smile and you start eating. No one talks during dinner but you are laughing at each other when you’re struggling with eating the pasta without actually making a mess. It feels natural to just sit there and eat with his company, like you are finally where you are supposed to be. For this moment you forget everything else and you focus on what you are currently living. After some time you both finish your food and you see Toto standing up.

“We should finish our wine on the couch.” he says, taking his glass and you copy his moves. He sits on the couch and you do the same but you don’t sit close to him. You rest your back on the couch arm and lay there putting your feet on his lap. He turns and looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He rests one hand on your feet and he grabs his phone with the other one unlocking it and looking at his mails.

“Do you want to work?” you ask

“It’s Friday night so no.” he replies

“Then close your phone”

“What can we do instead?”

“Talk like normal people?” you tell him

“About?” he asks

“I am thinking of moving to Monaco”

“That’s a bold choice, have you thought about it enough?” he asks

“I have and I think it’s the best thing I can do to be honest, I have some of my friends there and I really want to leave home, I really can’t deal with Christian while he keeps treating me like this.”

“That’s good.” he replies “What about going to the factory ?”

“How are you doing it? You live in Monaco and you also have to go to England at the factory.”

“It’s really tiring to be honest, you need to have a place to stay close to the factory “

“I have my apartment in London available.” you tell him

“London to Milton Keynes isn’t that easy to do on a daily basis.”

“Anyways, going to the factory isn’t my main priority right now, I am not even on the team.”

“You are on Mercedes.” he says

“Is this an invitation to Brackley?” you laugh

“You swore it was just for a few races, not that you will be staying permanently”

“It was my masterplan to get hired by Mercedes.”

“We don’t want you with us.” he jokes

“Why?” you ask

“You are distracting the team Ms. Horner.”

“How am I even distracting the team?” you say whining “People don’t even know who I am except from you.”

“You answered for me.” he tells you “And now I have to deal with you walking around Monaco.”

“Oh sorry, I’ll cancel my plans then.”

“Oh no, Monaco needs a twist.” he says and you look at him but say nothing. He doesn’t attempt to start a new conversation, he just readjusts on the couch, grabs the remote and opens the TV. He navigates through Netflix’s homepage and you eventually make him watch a movie which he tried to convince you not to watch. Again, none of you speaks during the movie. Halfway through, you realize you’re far too invested in the movie and turn to look at Toto who is fast asleep on that same couch. You decide that there’s no point in staying longer in his suite and you remove your legs from his lap as smoothly as you can, you grab your phone and your shoes which you had earlier taken off and head to the door tiptoeing.

“Stay here tonight.” you hear his raspy voice which takes you by surprise and you almost scream

“It’s better that I leave, you are tired and need some sleep.” you reply

“There’s a spare bed if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“And there’s an empty suite down the hallway.”

“Come on, aren't you bored to leave when you can just sleep here?” he tells you and well, he’s kinda right. Plus it’s not like you don’t want to spend some more time with him and it would definitely be questionable if someone saw you leaving his suite at midnight. You don’t go back to the couch but you leave your shoes down while Toto eyes every single move you make.

“It’s quali day tomorrow, we need to sleep. Come on.” you tell him and you walk to his room. Seconds later he follows you and enters the room.

“I’m taking the left side.” you say and he smiles at you with a sleepy face.

“You’re sure you don’t want to sleep in the other room?” he asks

“It’s not like it will make any difference. Except if you have a problem.”

“No, definitely not.” he replies and both of you lay on the bed, facing each other.

“I’ll wake up earlier to go to the gym, then we can get ready and hit the track. We’ll have breakfast there.” he says and you nod. He seems very calm, eyelids heavy with sleep so you decide to lean and kiss him goodnight. As you come closer to him you can now feel his scent and warmth and you put your lips on his. The kiss is slow and sweet, somehow different from the rest that the two of you had shared up to this moment.

“Goodnight Wolff.” you say

“Goodnight Horner.” he replies and both of you drift to sleep.

The next day you wake up without an alarm and you find the bed next to you empty. You hear water running and figure out that Toto must be taking his post gym shower. You keep laying there and grab your phone to go through new updates and messages. Not a lot of time passes until he emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist and he holds another one trying to dry the water off his hair. You admire the sight for a while and you say “Good Morning”. He looks at you and replies

“Good Morning Horner. Slept well?”

“Very much thank you” you say “How about you?”

“Slept really well, and I started my day with a good session at the gym with George and Lewis.”

“Oh that must have been interesting. I would have loved to join you three.”

“It would be funny to see their reactions.” he replies as he dries his hair on a smaller white towel while he’s looking at the nightstand on your right where his things rest . He tosses the towel he was holding on a white chair in the room and he approaches you. He climbs on the bed and puts one hand on the headrest while his other hand is stretching to reach the IWC watch on the nightstand. His already toned muscles are a little more observable now that he’s lingering above you. You draw a sharp breath at the sight trying to contain your thoughts and your self but you still look up and stare at him while he makes sure that he gets the watch. When he actually does, he looks down at you and he catches you staring.

“What?” he asks, staying still in the same position and you don’t answer but instead you scoff. You take a quick glance on his body and you let your instincts take over. You grab him from his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He immediately reacts by holding your face with his now free hand and he pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss and bites your lip. You melt into the kiss still laying down as you feel your heart racing faster than any racing car you’ve ever seen. Your breath gets quicker as you get the sheets out of your way trying to feel his skin on yours. Toto mutters “Fuck” in between your kisses making you a little crazier. He breaks the kiss and walks to the end of the bed, he grabs your legs and starts leaving trails of kisses all the way up from your calf to your upper thigh until he stops and looks at you, eyes full of lust. He lingers above you for a second or two and he looks at you intensely trying to make sure that he has your consent for his following actions. Once you understand what this is about you nod while you're trying to regulate your breath.

"Stay still for me baby" he requests and you try to follow his order by just laying there as he dives his head between your thighs. Your breathing gets faster and deeper as he works his way down on you making you feel like you’ve never felt before. You sense his smile while his tongue makes circles down on you. It’s more sensual than you’ve imagined it to be. And god the man definitely knows what he’s doing. He keeps going on for a while with the same dedication as he started and you feel getting closer and closer to your absolute limits. You look down on him as he now uses his hands on you, and you see him staring back. “You look so good baby” he says and all you can manage to say is his name followed by a moan. “Toto I’m so close. Fuck” you say out of breath and he dives in once again as if he heard the magic phrase. He works his magic and shortly after you probably have the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Then he stands up, his hardness still apparent. You manage to regain your strength and crawl at the end of the bed. “Time to take care of you love.” you tell him and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eye. You reach for his neck and pull him in for a long kiss as you move your hand down his torso and on his crotch. You feel him, how hard he is, and you’re secretly taking pride in your effect on him. You start touching him, trying to make him feel good in your hands. His breathing gets faster as you continue and you can sense him coming closer and closer. You want to give him your best so you slowly lean down but he stops you. “Let me feel you?” he asks, almost sounding tortured. You feel a burning desire in you. You’ve imagined this for some time. You cannot say no, not now. Instead you say “Yes please” and get on his lap. You kiss him, while you’re repeating in your head “i am actually fucking Toto Wolff”. You give him one or two strokes getting ready for him but instead of following he looks around, probably for protection. “I am on birth control” you tell him and he turns his attention back to you. You place yourself in the right position as you feel him pressuring your entrance. Once he’s in you start riding him until you feel yourself getting out of breath. All this time muttering his name like a mantra and he is just repeating something in the lines of “God you feel so good.”, both of you feeling like you’re in another world. As soon as he gets that you are tired he lifts you up and lays you down on the bed. Now he is on top and he’s thrusting in and out in a rhythmic and satisfying way. He looks you in the eye. It’s not awkward. Not even close. You both seem to enjoy it quite a lot. It’s not after a long time that both of you finish at the same time, in an almost poetic way.

Now both of you lay naked on Toto’s queen sized bed. No one is talking. You just lay on his torso while his hand is round your shoulders. At some point you decide to break the silence

“That was a decent start to the day.” you say and Toto looks down on you

“Beats the early gym session to be honest.” he says

“I would be angry if you preferred going to the gym with Lewis and George to having sex with me”

“If it wasn’t for the gym you wouldn’t be here now”

“You think it was the ‘semi naked with a towel’ appearance that made me want to sleep with you?” you laugh “I would give it to you any time of the day, even if you were wearing a garbage bag Wolff.”

“Nice to hear that you are unreasonably horny.”

“It’s not without a reason though. I think you’ve figured out that I do not consider you a bad looking man.”

“I have yes.”

“All I had to do is to just find the courage to just throw myself at you.” you laugh

“And you kind of had to be drunk to do so?” he asks

“Yes”

“Isn’t it ironic though?” he says “That we actually slept together during the moment of our biggest clarity and sobriety?”

“What is it with the philosophical questions Toto? I just wanted to have sex with you for a long time and I did.”

“Long time I hear?”

“Yes, are you surprised?” you ask

“No, just glad that I am not the only one. Was it good at least?”

“God Toto, you’re asking the cringiest questions.” you say “Yes, god, it was perfect.” you answer and you hear Toto laugh.

“Now as much as I want to stay here and repeat this through the day, we have to go to the track” he says

“Ah yes, I am dying to get some breakfast as well.” you say and Toto laughs

“I’ve already had mine” he says with a smirk and as soon as you get what he’s talking about you grab your pillow and start hitting him playfully.

“Come on, let’s get ready.”

A hour or so later, you find yourself parking a shiny black Mercedes at the track's parking area while being already disguised as your alter ego, full on Mercedes’ gear. Today you are wearing Toto’s shirt, which is a little oversized but you manage to style it in a great way. You grab your bag, draw a sharp breath and open the door. You walk to the paddock and scan your pass as you go totally unnoticed by people around you. To them you look like a regular Mercedes employee that they have no reason to care about. Little do they know that this is actually you. To be honest you kind of love the calmness of it, how no one is chasing you for a photo or a statement on a recent drama or event of the F1 world. You just walk unbothered. You get so caught up in that thought that you don’t actually notice how fast you got to the motorhome. You get in and put on your show, greeting the majority of your colleagues that also seem ignorant to your presence there. You go to the buffet area and grab a tray for your breakfast which you eventually bring to the small office that Toto managed to provide you. Once you settle in, you sit down to eat but you take a photo of the breakfast as a part of documenting that crazy weekend. You also decide to send the photo to Toto.

You

[photo]

Grabbed breakfast and brought it to the office. Drop by if you don’t have anything better to do.

Wolff

Just walked in. I’ll grab my coffee and be there in 5.

You

Cool.

Five minutes later you hear a knock on the door followed by “Miss Roosevelt it’s Wolff here.”

“Coming.” you say and unlock the door for him to come in.

“Hey” you say

“Hello” he answers and looks at the full tray “You got quite a lot of food there.”

“Yeah, that start to the day just opened my appetite.”

“That’s good to hear”

“So, what am I supposed to do today?”

“Well, practice starts in 45 minutes and then we have qualifying.”

“I am aware of the program, thank you.”

“You won’t let me finish my thought will you?” he says

“Sorry” you tell him and look at him

“I am thinking, maybe you can join me and Nyck in the garage for practice.” he pauses to think “And then you can take a look at the data before qualifying.”

“No I cannot do that” you say

“Why not? I know you can read data, you have the basic skills and knowledge to judge a performance run.”

“I don’t want to be involved with your data. It’s confidential.” you reply. It is actually crazy that Toto is okay with the idea of you handling the team’s data, as if you are not his number one opponent.

“I know it is. But I trust you, plus there’s an NDA that you’ve already signed. And the fact that you deny reading the data makes me want to give you access to them more than before. Because I know how serious you are about not leaking stuff.”

“Okay I will take a look, but only for a short time.” you tell him

“Oh and then I want you to do a tour to a group of visitors that will be coming to the garage.”

“Aren’t there people responsible for this?” you ask, reminiscing the fact that in Red Bull you have people who are responsible for the hospitality packages.

“There are but they are shitting their pants because Christiano is dropping by later.”

“Who is Christiano?” you ask, slightly confused

“Ronaldo” he replies

“He’s coming to the race?”

“Yes. He’s actually coming both today and tomorrow and the team is invested in doing everything perfect for him.” he says and you are still staring at him with your mouth open “We are a bit short staffed in that team so an extra help would be amazing.”

“Good. I’ll do that too.”

“Great, thanks love” he says and you freeze at the name but before it gets too awkward the door knocks.

“Toto, this is James, do you have some time to review the quali strategy?” you hear through the door

“Yes, I will be there in a sec.” he replies “Gotta go now, i’ll see you in 45 right?”

“Right” you tell him and he is out of the office. I

You spend the next 30 minutes scrolling through twitter and eating the breakfast that you got earlier as well as taking a look at Toto’s schedule for the day. Later on you leave the office, mask on once again, and make your way to the garage and to the top of the fantasy island where Toto and Nyck are waiting for the session to start. Both cars are in the garage waiting for a sign to leave once the lights at the end of the pitlane turn green and at the same time all the mechanics are making the final touches on the set ups. You greet everyone sitting on the fantasy island and put on the spare headphones as you did the day before. The session is done as usual, the drivers going in and out of the garage to change setups on the car to find an optimal one for the qualifying. Performance runs are also on the programme but only during the last fifteen minutes of the session. Everything concerning telemetry is being sent directly into Toto’s computer on top of the fantasy island as soon as each lap ends so that he can see how they are done and areas where they can be corrected. The session ends quicker than it usually does when you are at Red Bull because suddenly all the chit chat becomes interesting and not as boring as it is with Christian.

“P1 and P2 huh?” you ask him. Nyck is already out of the garage, something about having to talk to some foreign media made Toto let him leave before the small pre qualifying debrief.

“It isn’t bad is it?” he asks back.

“It is not for us” you tell him “ It is for the rest of the grid though. I bet Christian is fuming right now.”

“It is not bad for them. If we are in front they will have to innovate more to reach us. It motivates them.”

“I bet they are not seeing it this way though.”

“Is Christian really fuming if we finish in front in practice?”

“Yeah, he’s not a fan of coming second in any session of this sport.”

“Too bad for him.” he says and you laugh. At this moment your phone rings with a notification from the calendar app reminding you of an interview Toto has to attend.

“Oh, I am seeing now that you should be outside the media pen for an interview.” you tell him

“I am very much aware, thank you.”

“Well, why are you not there now?”

“I prefer to hang out with my beautiful assistant instead.” he compliments you

“Oh my god, shut up” you laugh and he does the same “Come on, interview, now!” you say as you tug him and try to push him to the corridor that leads to the paddock playfully.

“That’s unfair. I am the boss. You are not in the position to prohibit me from doing anything.” he laughs as he walks reluctantly to the paddock.

“Well, it seems like I am in charge of what you are doing so technically I am allowed to tell you what to do.” you tell him “I will be enjoying a cold cup of coffee in the meantime.”

“Once again, that’s unfair Horner.” he says the second part whispering so that people are not able to hear. “Also, you have work to do. The telemetry data is already in your email inbox waiting to be read and commented on, so if I were you I would actually save the coffee for later.” he says and you look at him flabbergasted. “Oh and as soon as you are done with that you have the little tour to do in an hour and a half. Take care Ms. Roosevelt.”

Before you are able to form a sentence he is already gone, more like running to the media pen. You on the other side, walk back to your office, open your new iPad and take a look at the data. The lap times look good, still slower than the lap time that you calculated the pole position would be on, but they look good. In the data you can see clearly that the engine mode is in a much less aggressive setup that you are sure will change during qualifying. You add some comments using your iPencil concerning parts of where you think the drivers can gain time, as well as some questions for the strategists and the mechanics. When you are done, you forward your notes to Toto’s email and check the clock to see that it has actually been 1:30 hours and that it is actually the time to go meet the people you will be giving your tour to.

You find them all standing on a circle by the garage entrance at the paddock, discussing, taking pictures and being excited. There are 5 of them, 3 guys and 2 girls, all of them close to your age. You approach them and greet them. One of the girls looks gorgeous. The boys aren’t bad either.

“Hello everyone.” you say “You must be waiting for a paddock tour right?”

“Yeah” one of the boys says and the rest of them nod.

“Okay!” you say in an excited tone, trying to engage with them. “I am Mindy. I will learn your names during the tour I suppose.”

“Nice to meet you” says one of the girls “Likewise” you answer “So, should we start? Are you all excited?”

“Very.” one of the boys says.

The tour starts and you take all of them for a walk in the paddock to see all the motorhomes and where you actually work and you are actually describing all the details about what you are showing to them. You take them by the media pen, where you spot Toto giving another interview for pre qualifying. All of the guys and the girls get very excited and try to snap a picture even from far away. Then you take them by the garage but just before you manage to get in, you receive a new notification on your watch

Wolff

Just finished the interviews at the media pen and managed to see your notes and questions on the telemetry data. I forwarded them to James and he immediately got back to me asking who made all those brilliant notes and questions. I guess you are wasting yourself with management, you should become a mechanic instead.

Oh I also caught a glance of you and the guys during the tour. I hope that you are doing alright. We don’t want to make Ritz’s employees sad, we still have a few days left before we check out.

You read the message and realize that the people that you’ve been interacting with are people working at your hotel. So you decide to stop the tour and actually get to know them.

“You know what? Let’s introduce ourselves before going into the garage.” you tell them and walk back to a bench located at the paddock.

“So as I told you before I am Mindy Roosevelt, I am currently working at Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 but my position is totally different to what I am doing right now. I am actually working as an assistant to upper management, but the hospitality team has a very special guest for this weekend and they were busy enough so you are left with me.” you say “Go ahead, introduce yourselves.”

One of the guys starts talking “I am Ahmad Hussain and like everyone here, I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in Jeddah. I am working as a cook in the hotel kitchen so everything that you’ve tasted in the past few days might have had to do something with me.”

“I loved everything that I’ve tried, thank you Ahmad.” you tell him

“I am Benjy Ayad, I am half american half saudi arabian and I am currently working at the Ritz-Carlton as an economics advisor.” he says

“Mohammad Dawoud, and I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in room service.”

“Oh, I will be requesting for you Mohammad.” you laugh and he takes a bow showing his honor.

“I am also working as room service at the Ritz.” you hear one of the girls saying. This time it’s the pretty one

“That’s nice. What is your name?”

“I am Cynthia Jones.” she says and you freeze as you realize that the girl standing in front of you has slept with the man you slept with this morning. Jealousy as well as curiosity are your main feelings so you ask for more information.

“Sounds very non-Saudi Arabian. Where are you from Cynthia?” you ask

“I am from the UK actually. I was born and raised there, my parents are British but all of a sudden I ended up here. I was looking for a position in management in some big companies here in Saudi Arabia and I got this job as a part time until I figured things out but I ended up staying for two years.”

“That’s crazy. And why management? Do you have a degree?”

“Yes, I actually do. I got my degree in Switzerland and I tried pursuing it but right now I haven’t found anything that I like.”

You nod in agreement, trying to register all the information that you’ve learned from her directly. Toto was secretive about their relationship so learning even the slightest about her is important. Finally you turn to the last girl left

“Alina Mohammad, I work as a receptionist at the Ritz. Nothing to know exactly. I was born and raised here and I got a degree in touristics so I got the job of my dreams.”

“You guys seem really happy with what you are all doing. I hope you keep doing what you love.” you say “I mean you all managed to buy a paddock pass that most people wouldn’t dream buying at what? 24?”

“No actually we didn’t buy a pass, the team invited us to join today’s action.” says Benjy

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.” you say

“Yeah they came in last night and handed us the passes just before our shift ended. We went crazy.” says Cynthia and you look at her.

“Sorry Cynthia, if I may ask, what time do you finish your shift on average?”

“I don’t know, maybe like 11pm or something? Yesterday I finished at that time.” she replies. At this point you are now sure, Toto asked her to come there today. There’s no other explanation. As soon as he saw her he wanted her to come back. That’s why he invited her. It wasn’t planned for you to do the interview, but he changed it to make you interact with Cynthia, to actually hurt your feelings.

“Mindy, is everything okay?” Mohammad asks as you have totally zoned out

“Sorry, I spaced out for a bit. Yes, everything is good. Shall we continue with our garage tour?” you ask and they nod. You go back to the garage trying to explain as many things as you know about the things there. To be honest, your mood isn’t quite the same as it was before you knew who the beautiful blonde by your side was. Luckily, the tour comes to an end 30 minutes later but sadly it is qualifying time so you have to be by Toto’s side by the time the session starts. Cristiano Ronaldo is also there by Toto’s side. You nod and greet him as Toto introduces you and you just get back to work.

During qualifying you sit there, not talking, just looking at the screen and the timings and occasionally checking your burner twitter account for any comments. Although you are pissed at the man next to you you definitely don’t want Mercedes to qualify in bad positions so through Q1 and Q2 you are relaxed since it is obvious that both cars will be through to Q3. During Q3 you keep your fingers crossed and mostly during the last runs for pole position you keep praying as you usually do in Red Bull. When the timer runs out Lewis and George are sitting P1 and P2 respectively, locking the front row for tomorrow’s start and as soon as the team figures it out, the whole garage erupts in cheers. Toto reaches Ronaldo for a handshake, celebrating the results. Your eye catches the guys from earlier cheering and hugging each other, taping with their phones. Toto turns to you and you do a high five with him as he smiles at you. You remain indifferent in his reaction, keeping yourself busy until George and Lewis are back to the parc ferme to congratulate them. Once you are done with that you simply say goodbye to everyone there and leave.

You go back and grab all your things and without saying a word to anyone you drive back to the hotel. When you are ready to go back to bed, you see a new message

Max Emilian Verstappen

Where are you? I missed you on track these days.

You

Sadly Christian thought it was a fair deal to throw me out of the team for god knows how long.

Happily for you I will be out of your way for that time so you will relax.

Also congrats for the P3 today, it was a decent run but the mercs had the pace.

Max Emilian Verstappen

Oh Christian…

Shut up, I already miss you. Are you in England?

Thank you H.

You

I am in Monaco, at a friend's house.

You feel kinda terrible for lying to him but there’s not much you can do.

After you chat with Max for a while, you order some food to eat but then get another message.

Wolff

Lost you after qualifying and when I asked they told me you had left. That wasn’t a bad result.

Anyways I am going back to the hotel and I am planning to order something to eat, you can hang around my suite if you want and we can discuss strategies for the race.

Let me know what you are about to do

You

I’m not feeling very good, sorry.

And tomorrow I will be coming in late, probably an hour or so before the start

Wolff

Okay. Do you need any help? Should I drop by your suite?

How am I supposed to work without my assistant?

You

I am not your main assistant Woff, you have a hundred people helping you, me not being there won’t be a huge issue

No, don’t come.

Just let me fucking be for once okay?

Later on you see that he read the message and didn’t reply. You take a hot bath and go to sleep for tomorrow.

You wake up the next day pretty late but just in time considering the fact that you are planning to leave in 2 hours. You order breakfast to avoid having something at the track and start getting ready as you are waiting for room service to arrive. You eat and then leave.

Since you left the hotel earlier your time of arrival is estimated earlier than you actually planned so you decide to take a drive in Jeddah’s streets to soak in the country. An hour or so before the start you actually arrive at the track. You park your car and walk to the hospitality. Then you lock yourself in your office and just read notes for the race. Later on you hear a knock on the door.

“It’s Wolff” you hear him say and you open the door even if you don’t want to. You don’t speak. You stay there and look at him. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks

“I am okay, yes.” you reply “Do you want anything else?” you ask him since he’s standing there just watching,

“Why are you acting like this?” he asks

“Like what?”

“Like Christian Horner’s daughter?”

“Yeah, you should be expecting that since that’s exactly who I am”

“You haven’t been like this since Bahrain.” he says

“Well if you don’t like it then you should call Cynthia.” you tell him

“Is this what this is all about? Are you jealous?” he asks

“Listen Toto, if you want to discuss this I will discuss it outside this office please.” you tell him

“Okay then, follow me.” he says

“What? Now?”

“I want to solve this right now if it’s okay.”

“The race starts in 30 minutes.” you say

“It will take less than 30 minutes, follow me” he says

Both you and Toto walk in the motorhome before he manages to open a door at the end of the hallway. You climb off the stairs and you reach a place somewhere in between a wall and a closed section of the motorhome.

“Speak” he says

“Bossy much ?” you ask

“Yes, now please tell me how did the whole Cynthia thing reoccur after yesterday morning?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know.” you tell him

“I do not have a clue.” he says

“You don’t have a clue about inviting her here?”

“Who?”

“Yesterday you made me do a paddock tour to a group of people.”

“Yes, they were the Ritz employees, I am aware of that”

“So you are aware that Cynthia Jones was proudly here watching F1 and enjoying qualifying with a VIP pass right?”

“I was not.” he says and honestly he seems like he’s telling the truth.

“You didn’t see her in the garage?” you ask

“Well, believe it or not I do not see everyone who is in the garage.”

“You didn’t invite her ?”

“Nope.”

“She said that she got her invitation right after her shift ended. And her shift ended after you saw her.”

“I was aware that they were going to be here. Just not the names of who was coming. The hotel management was supposed to do a draw and pick 5 people to join us as a gift. It’s part of our contract.” he replies

“So you didn’t know she was coming?”

“I am going to say no once again.” he says “You can search my messages if you want to.” he says as he hands you his phone.

“I trust you.” you tell him and you hand him his phone back

“After all I am not that big of an asshole to invite an ex fling and then sleep with you the next morning.”

“Don’t you dare do this again.”

“Invite people or sleep with you?”

“Oh Wolff fuck off.” you joke

“With you, gladly.” he replies

“Shhh” you tell him

“You are not going to shut me up this way.” he says and then looks at you “Also take off this goddamn mask now that no one can see us, I am tired of seeing you with it.”

You take of your mask and smile at him

“You’re sure that no one can see us here right?” you ask and he nods.

You lean on him and kiss him, catching him off guard. He returns the kiss as he smiles in it .

“I am sorry, Wolff. I won’t overreact about Cynthia again.”

“It’s alright Horner.” he tells you.

“The race starts in 15, should we go?”

“Let’s go.” he says and both of you walk back to the garage and your usual places.

At the start of the race both Lewis and George start off well, keeping their initial positions with Max lurking just behind George. Standing next to Toto, you have access to everything on his computer so you see lap by lap each and every thing you’ve learned to look for in order to plan a strategy in your head. When things get tough and Max gets behind Lewis in P2 your brain is running as fast as it can. The Mercedes strategists are proposing possible pit stop strategies based on the data that they have. However they don’t know one thing that you do. As an executive at Red Bull you have to be aware of code phrases over the team radio, which to be honest can’t be forgotten in a day. So as you’re seeing in the data Lewis is trying to manage his tires and you hear the message “Okay Max, it seems like we are going for a one stopper here.” , you feel the bells ringing in your head.

The “It seems like” phrase is a code name for doing exactly the opposite that the phrase says so you are 100% sure that they are going for a two stopper in order to win. Something that Mercedes has done countless times.

Toto had told you earlier that if you want to intervene you can press the button and speak but he thought that you wouldn’t be crazy enough to actually do it. When you crack the code of the Red Bull strategy you immediately press the button saying strategy and speak.

“Red Bull is going for a two stopper.” you say and Toto looks at you with his eyes wide open. “In about 5 to 10 laps they are going to be back on the softs to chase us. I would suggest pitting Lewis for a second time, turning the engine up and trying to chase him.”

“Are you sure?” he asks

“The “It seems like” is the key phrase Toto. Please let Lewis know. ” you tell him

“Okay. Do what she said. I am waiting for your calculations. Get back at me in two minutes.” he says while pressing the strategy button

“Thank you.” he says.

Later on it seems like Red Bull is caught off guard by Mercedes’ move and they try saving it as well as they can but they fail. At the end of the race the checkered flag is out and Lewis wins the grand prix in Jeddah.

“Yes boys, come on. Amazing strategy” says Lewis through the radio as everyone in the garage is celebrating. George finishes P2.

“Thank you for the amazing drive Lewis.” says Toto

“Get in there Lewis!” says Bono through the radio.

Toto turns to you and says thank you while he’s off to congratulate the other team members. After Lewis gives his post race interview to Naomi Schiff, you storm off to the pitlane to watch the podium ceremony. Max is also there and he seems a bit disappointed by his streak of P3’s during the season, but you’re barely worried. Right now you are celebrating about Lewis and George. You take your phone out and snap a picture or two. After the champagne opens and the trophies are given you go back to your office and lock yourself there once again. You’re hearing all the congratulations from people in the hospitality center and you sit on the office couch feeling that happiness and euphoria of winning. You haven’t spoken to anyone since the race ended but you are now just laying there happy. A long time after, you hear a knock on the door. You’re sure it’s Toto since the race debrief and the interviews must have ended by now. You ask who it is though.

“It’s Lewis. Can you please open up?” he says and you freeze, stopping dead in your tracks. You put on your mask and you open the door.

“Oh my god Lewis hi. Congratulations on your win.” you tell him

“Thank you Mindy. It’s Mindy right?” he asks

“Yes it is.” you tell him

“And you’re a Daimler intern?”

“I am yes.”

“Can you please take off your mask so that I can remember your face?” he asks and at this point you are pretty sure he knows that you’re not who you say you are.

“I am sorry but I am at great risk, I don’t want to get COVID or anything.” you tell him trying to avoid the situation.

“Don’t worry, I am wearing masks and I also tested negative this morning, so you can take it off.”

“Is it okay if I don’t want to?” you tell him

“Yes it is.” he says and he turns to face the door, finally going to leave. “We will be outside celebrating the 1-2 with the team, it will be amazing if you come, even for the picture.”

“I am not sure I have to be there.”

“I know you had something to do with that win, this strategy didn’t make itself Horner.” he says and you freeze as you register how he called you.

“Excuse me?” you tell him

“Next time that you fight with Toto, don’t do it outside my driver’s room Horner.” he says. “I know what happened between you two, I saw you without your mask and I saw you kissing my Team principal, there’s no denying.”

“Shit. Toto said no one could see us.”

“I could see you but Toto thought I would be at the grid by then when I clearly wasn’t.”

“I am sorry. You can’t say this to anyone.” you tell him

“I don’t plan to, I just find it funny that you switched teams.” he says

“Yeah, I had to because my dad’s an asshole.”

“Okay, now you get what everyone’s saying right?” he laughs

“Yeap.”

“You should come outside, let’s celebrate. You earned this victory as much as I did. Plus I want to have you in the picture. You can wear your mask.” he says and he extends his hand to make you stand up from the couch.

“Okay” you say and you walk with him

“Oh and by the way, Wolff is heads over heels for you, I am pretty sure he’s liked you for a long time and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. That Cynthia thing is completely bullshit.”

“Really?” you ask him and he nods smiling.

Both of you walk outside to celebrate that amazing day with your amazing achievements. Mercedes really feels like home for you. Toto’s eyes light up when he sees you outside, in between the mix of employees. He stands by your side for the photos and then all of the team starts playing with champagne. It’s a really great night in the desert that makes up for the craziness of the weekend which makes you relax ahead of the new week coming up.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fanfic #enemies to lovers ig #f1 #all's fair fic

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flowerandblood · 1 year

Text

My Beloved Nymph (8)

[modern! club owner • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: kissing, mention of suicide attempt, fluff]

[description: Aemond is the owner of the club, his girlfriend is the younger sister of his business partner. This story is a continuation of the series "My Best Friend", which you can read here: Part 1. This story can be read on its own. Aemond has serious intentions for his girlfriend and is slowly putting them into practice.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Y/N hasn't brought up the subject of Marcus since their conversation that evening. All he heard was how she talked to Klaus sometimes, but then went back to doing other things as if nothing had happened.

Aemond felt guilty for putting her in this position. She didn't give him the impression in any way that she resented what he had said. She treated him even more tenderly and gave him even more attention. But it made him feel worse, not better.

He wondered what he should do. He knew that Klaus had to go back to his job eventually and leave Marcus alone for a few hours. Aemond offered that during this time, he could come and stay with him. Y/N looked at him surprised, holding wet laundry in her hand, which she was taking to the balcony to dry.

"You don't have to do it. It's not your problem." She said worried and scared. Aemond pursed his lips.

"I want to do it. I will change Klaus as many times as necessary."

***

Aemond agreed with Klaus what time they would exchange. For the time being, the doctors believed that Marcus could not be left alone in his home and needed constant supervision. Aemond wanted to do it, he felt he owed it to her. He didn't want her meeting him, but he knew he could at least help him himself.

He entered the building, Klaus was putting on his jacket when they saw each other in the hallway and shook hands.

"It's nice of you, that you're doing this." He said calmly and patted him on the shoulder. "I'll try to make it in five hours."

Aemond was left alone. He walked leisurely out of the hallway into the large, modern living room. Marcus' house was huge. He saw him lying in his bathrobe on the couch, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. He opened them after a moment, their eyes met. Marcus smiled in amusement.

"Make yourself comfortable. The whiskey in there." He said, pointing with his finger to a large chest of drawers, on which stood various acoholes. Only now did Aemond see that Marcus was holding a glass in one hand.

He decided he'd need a drink too, to clear his head and finally relax. After he had poured himself a whiskey, he sat down in the chair across from him and looked at him expectantly. He wondered if it was worth asking him how he was, because it was obvious that he was not well. Marcus stared at him silently.

"I do not understand you." He finally told him. Aemond raised his eyebrows in surprise at his words.

"What?" He asked uncertainly.

"I thought we had this conversation behind us." He sighed, turning his gaze to the wall and taking a sip from his half-empty glass. "About me and your girlfriend." He clarified.

"My fiancée." Aemond corrected him, frustrated. Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at him with a smile.

"Oh, congratulations then. I didnt know. I didn't notice the ring on her hand. Unless it's the one with the daisy flower. If so, that's very sweet of you." He said, taking a sip from his glass. Aemond felt uneasy at his words.

"What do you mean?" He asked, pressing his lips together. He felt his heart pounding hard, adrenaline rushing to his head. Marcus chuckled to himself and shook his head, amused.

"I can see you're jealous. I saw your look in the hospital, through the window. You are annoying me. She hasn't contacted me or met behind your back for two years. I've told you before, you don't have a monopoly on her love." He said coldly. Aemond swallowed hard, his eye glowing uneasily.

"Would you rather she were here instead of me?" He asked impassively. Marcus laughed.

"Of course not. You think I was happy to see her cry in the hospital? I was hoping not to wake up and instead I have to sit with you sulking and jealous." He said frustrated. Aemond wanted to get up and leave. He wondered if Marcus was doing it on purpose. That if he left, Marcus would try to hurt himself again. The thought somehow made him pull himself together.

"I'm not proud of it myself. I can't do anything about it. I love her." He said looking away, his jaw clenched in nervousness. Marcus looked at him intently, thinking about something. His gaze softened.

"I know."

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the ticking of the great clock behind them. Marcus stared blankly ahead again. After a while he started talking.

“When I met her, she was 14 and I was 26. At that age, it's a huge difference. I was just starting my career, her father was a big fish. I talked to her in his absence, because I wanted to get in the good graces of the family, to become a permanent part of the business. I immediately noticed that she was alone and vulnerable. And I can be very persuasive when I want to." He said, looking dispassionately at the pictures on the mantel opposite.

“For years I deceived her, I hid the fact that I was not just a lawyer, that I was doing the most important business with her father under the table. She must have thought I was her guardian angel, but I didn't mind. She was so easy to manipulate that I felt ashamed of myself at one point. I didn't get any benefit from it after that, I was doing it for the sport." He said as he sipped whiskey from his glass. "I watched with satisfaction as a teenager fell in love with someone who does not exist."

Aemond stared at him with a murderous glare. His chest heaved unevenly. He wondered if he was telling him so that he would kill him himself.

“But then Klaus got worried and I decided it was time to let it go. Then Laura got a job at my brothel. And there we are.”

Aemond stared at him in disbelief.

"Laura was a prostitute?"

Marcus looked at him with amusement.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, turning in his seat. “I loved her with all my heart. And she loved many men besides me. It didn't bother me. Otherwise, she would have tortured me to death. We pretended to her parents that we were a couple, we had fun then. We both knew we were just fucked up." He said, taking cigarettes and a lighter from his robe pocket. He directed the package to Aemond, who shook his head.

Marcus took out a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled the smoke and blew it out his nose. Aemond felt he had no idea what he thought of the man. He despised him at the same time, but also admired him in a weird way. Aemond needed therapy to reach this level of self-awareness. He stared at him with a stony face.

"Are you going to try to kill yourself again?" He asked, surprised at his own directness.

"I don't know. I don't want her to cry again because of me."

***

When Aemond returned to the apartment, Y/N quickly stepped out into the hallway, looking at him in fear. He could see that she felt remorse that he had been dragged into all this. Then she smiled and he heard sounds coming from the living room.

Suddenly Vhagar pounced on him, licking and scratching him, and he felt an indescribable relief and joy. He wrapped his arms around her soft fur and snuggled into her. For some reason, he wanted to cry.

That night the three of them lay on the bed. Vhagar sprawled comfortably at the bottom of the bed, lying on her back, clearly pleased that she had been honored to sleep on such soft sheets and not on her blanket on the floor.

Aemond and Y/N kissed greedily, stroking each other's faces. Aemond didn't want sex, he needed her tenderness and comfort, her closeness, her infinite devotion. She hugged him to her breasts. He held her tight and let her stroke his hair until he fell asleep.

In the morning, they went out together before Y/N's work for a walk with Vhagar. There was still fog in the park near his apartment, there was not much traffic on the streets, peace and quiet surrounded them. Aemond told her everything that Marcus had told him, feeling he had to force it out. Y/N listened to him intently.

"Did you know he lied to you from the beginning?" He finally asked her, and she sighed softly, glancing at him.

“I told you I thought I felt something, but to a person who didn't exist. When he started being with Laura, he told me how it really was. I forgave him and we became friends. He's been brutally honest with me ever since." She said looking to the side. Aemond laughed ironically at her words.

"He's brutally honest with me too." He said shaking his head. Y/N gripped his hand tighter. “I had the impression that he wanted to provoke me. Make me leave. Perhaps he meant to do something to himself again. He told me he can be very persuasive when he wants to."

Y/N nodded. Aemond unleashed Vhagar, letting her run a little across the grass, there was no one else around them.

"He's like an actor. He's always playing a show. In court, in front of me, in front of you. He told me that only before Laura had he been his true self. But I'm not sure he knew what that meant anyway."

***

As promised, Aemond visited Marcus and kept an eye on him. On the one hand, it annoyed him, on the other, he felt at least that he had matured enough to truly support his future wife, and not be the only one to blame her for something beyond her control. Talking to her and Marcus calmed him down a bit. Knowing that Marcus was suffering made him more understanding.

He felt they were similar in some ways. He, like Marcus, also felt that he was abnormal and did fucked up things with women. He only got out of it when he met Y/N.

He wondered what must have happened to Marcus, where his life decisions came from. One day he decided to ask him about it. Marcus looked at him with tired, resigned eyes.

"You're comparing me to yourself. You think I must have some reason to be what I am. Sometimes there's just something missing. I've always felt that way. That I can only love from a distance, because above all I love myself. I need a huge space for myself. Laura gave it to me, which is why we had a connection for so long. I was happy to think of her without worrying about her begging me for marriage and children." He said finally, fitting his temple.

"But just because I didn't want a family with her didn't mean I didn't love her. On the contrary, there hasn't been a minute of my life where I haven't thought about her." He finally said and sighed, staring at the ceiling. Aemond looked down at his lap.

"I know a good therapist. He could help you." He spoke calmly and matter-of-factly. Marcus laughed.

“Nobody can help me. You wouldn't be helped either if one of your dealers ran over your future wife in the lanes because you fucked him out of business." He said, his face twitching in disgust, apparently at the man and at himself. Aemond stared at him intently.

"You're the best lawyer I know. You can help many people. Do much more good." He said, wondering where the urge to comfort him came from. Maybe it was because, despite all the jealousy and weariness of him, he felt sorry for him.

"Are you taking pity on me?" He asked amused, looking at him. Aemond pursed his lips.

"No. But if you kill yourself, you won't be helping anyone. Laura's death will be for nothing, because you have learned nothing." He said looking out the window. Marcus stared at him intently, his face hardened.

"You're a good friend." He said, lowering his eyes. Aemond looked at him in surprise. He hadn't expected such words from him.

"Go to therapy. Put yourself together and do something useful and valuable in your life.”

***

Y/N couldn't believe it when he told her over dinner that he had convinced Marcus to go to his therapist. There was immense relief on her face. She squeezed his hand, looking at him with indescribable gratitude.

"God, Aemond, that's great! Thank you so much for everything you did for me.” She said, lifted his hand and kissed it tenderly, pressing her cheek against it. He pulled her to him and kissed her hungrily. She returned the kiss, snuggling into him. He pulled away from her and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eye.

"I don't want to wait long to get married. I want you to be my wife as soon as possible. I want us to move out of town so Vhagar can run around in the yard. I want to have children with you. I want to grow old with you.”

_____

Dearest! The next chapter will be the last chapter of this series, ending it completely. It will be long and will probably appear in the coming days. The chapter will cover the wedding, the wedding night, and some scenes a few years later, and will explain most of the plot. I want this to be a worthy conclusion to the story, so I hope you'll be patient. And don't worry! I already have an idea for another story that will come out together with "A Winter Beauty". Aemond is an endless source of inspiration for me. 🤤💖🔥🥵😵

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ~

@chainsawsangel @yentroucnagol @cardi-bre91 @melsunshine @bellaisasleep @candypurplebutterfly @malfoytargaryen @serrhaewin @svtansdaddyx @iiamthehybrid @beiigegalx @sarahkimtae @fangirlninja67 @namoreno @thetrueblackheart @opheliaas-stuff @zenka69 @namelesslosers

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marksbear · 1 year

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I will never get tired of you and your work. If you dont mind can I request sub namor. During the movie I can sense the chemistry between namor and shuri. So namor has his king at home and see this. Which leads to reader taking a small vacation and going somewhere else and namor doesn't know where he at. And then he finds him,which leads to them talking it out and having make up sex at the castle. Also this is just a bonus idea but shuri comes back to talk politics and sees namor getting destroyed and comes back later and brings a gift basket saying hope you get well soon because I think it would be funny.-🐻‍❄️

Hey 🐻‍❄! I hope you like what I wrote for you! And the translation is at the bottom!

NAMOR X DOM MALE READER

"In waal. A wojel tu'ux yaan in wíichan?" Y/n asks one of the guards. They all exchange a look before one answers. "Hes with princess Shuri. My king."

"Princess Shuri? Hes been with her all morning." Y/n groans and covers his face in annoyance. "Do you want me to go find him, my king?" The other guard asks getting ready to do anything for her king.

"That won't be necessary my child but thank you...But theres one thing you can do for me." Y/n moves closer to the guard and whispers in her ear. "I'm leaving. I have been stuck in this castle for way too long, so I'm gonna take a small trip away. And your job is to try to not let my husband find out."

Y/n backs away from her with a smile. "Je'el u páajtal a xook tin yéetel in Ajaw." She says bowing her head a little. "I know I can. You never let me down not even once." Y/n says the last word before leaving packing his stuff.

TIMESKIP

By the time Namor comes back to the castle it's empty. By empty i'm talking about no Y/n. Usually Y/n will greet Namor by the door and even sometimes in the bedroom, but hes nowhere in sight.

Namor searches the whole castle before asking the guards. "Tu'ux yaan in wíichan?" All the guards give each other a look before one of them lies saying "He said he's going to check on the whales." After one guard says the lie all the others back him up.

Namor nods and says a quiet thank you before leaving the castle in search of his husband.

The king searches far and wide. Almost every single inch of the ocean he searches. But everything he didn't check was this abandoned ship. Namor stares at it arguing with himself if he should go in or not, but at this point he was desperate.

He's filled with worry and fear for his husband. So going into the ship that Y/n always talked about exploring was his last hope. As he goes inside he sees a bunch of different sea animals in different parts of the ship. Soon Namor grows impatient and leaves the ship through one of the windows noticing a figure that's back is turned to him is similar to his husband.

Namor stares at the figure until he figures out it's his husband by hearing him hum a song. Namor swims to the figure full speed tackling him down across the sea floor. Y/n quickly got into attack mode when the figure was straddling his hips but relaxed once he noticed it was his husband. But then he remembers. "Namor! What the hell! How did you find---" Y/n gets cut off by his husband's lips kissing his own.

Namor pulls away from the kiss and pins Y/n arms down to the floor. "Don't you ever leave like that again." Namor looks down into his husband's eyes moving his face closer to Y/n so they're only a few inches apart.

"Why. Why Namor. You always leave me for a princess that almost killed you. You ditch our plans to go with her, you're always with her and you love the company shes giving you. So why?" Y/n turns his jealous face away with a bit of anger bubbling in his stomach.

"Y/n. You're scared that i'm gonna leave you for her. My king theres no reason to be jealous. Especially when you know I would kill her in a heart-beat for you..." Namor releases Y/n wrist. The couple stare at each other not saying any words just loving the others presence. Namor moves his hips onto Y/n crotch grinding on it hoping his husband will get the hint. "Can I earn your forgiveness. I've been so bad for neglecting my king. Let me make it up to you." Namor suggests getting off of his husband before taking his hand yanking him up.

TIMESKIP

Once the two get inside the castle Namor dismisses the guards that are inside the castle so they can do their own thing. Half of the guards already know what's about to happen. So they leave without arguing and stand guard outside the castle.

The two kings makeout as soon as everyone leaves. The both of them are to horny and impatient to even go to the bedroom so they just settle on the floor. Their tongues fight for dominance. They both fumble around with their clothes taking them all off leaving both of them naked.

Y/n pulls away from the makeout staring deeply at Namor as he catches his breath. Y/n gets on top of Namor getting between his legs. Namor wraps his legs around Y/n waist with a smirk on his face. "Just fuck me already." Namor says growing impatient. Y/n rolls his eyes and aligns his hard cock to Namor's hole.

Slowly Y/n enters inside of his husband checking signs from any pain from his husband. Namor lets out breathy moans feeling his husband cock move deeper and deeper inside. "Stop acting like i'm glass. And just fuck me." Namor begs. Y/n exchanges one last look with his husband before his own lust took over. Y/n snaps his hips harshly and his cock hits Namor's prostate at the first try.

Namor lets out a loud moan out of pure shock and pleasure.Y/n thrust is at a fast pace abusing Namor's hole from it. Namor brings Y/n for a kiss and whines when Y/n teases him by ducking the kiss and licking Namor's lips. Y/n thrust is animistic and rough making Namor squirm and yelp sometimes he chokes on his own moans making his eyes water. The couple are creating so much loud noise throughout the whole castle.

The two are in their own heaven and bliss not seeing a figure standing in the hallway looking at them with wide eyes.

"C-cumming!~ Toop! In ajawo' táan im cumming!" Namor cries out shooting his load all over himself and his husband. With a few more thrust Y/n doesn't leave his husband behind shooting white ropes of cum inside his husband. Namor cries and whines feeling more and more full by the second as Y/n cums deep inside.

Namor yelps in surprise when his husband thrusts inside him again. "My king. I haven't forgiven you quite yet." Y/n answers the question in Namor's mind.

TIMESKIP

"I didn't know you had a husband." Shuri says hiding the gift basket behind her.

"The only reason you didn't meet him when we were at war is because he is always with the sea animals and always exploring ancient artifacts. But he is always with me." Namor feels happy and giddy to talk about his husband showing off the ring.

"Here. I think you need this from yesterday." Shuri says trying to hold in her laughter handing him the basket. Namor takes the basket and looks at the note inside it. He gives Shuri a quick look before taking the note and reading it.

"Dear Namor, I hope you get well soon! And take it easy walking and swimming around I know how much your legs gotta hurt.

From, Shuri"

Namor thinks for a while then his whole body becomes hot snapping his head around Shuri. Shuri blurts out laughing uncontrollably. "Shuri! H-how did you see us?!" Namor shouts at Shuri who can't even take him seriously.

"Shuri! Answer me!"

THE END!

Translations!

"In waal. A wojel tu'ux yaan in wíichan?" = My child. Do you know where my husband is?

"Toop! In ajawo'" = Fuck! My King

"Tu'ux yaan in wíichan?" = "Where is my husband?"

#namor the sub mariner #namor x male reader #namor x reader #mcu namor #namor #ku'kul'kan #x male reader #male reader #marvel x male reader #the bear club

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regnumaves · 1 year

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[ caeda 5/5HP ] most of the herd has been thinned out by now, and it takes caeda some searching upon her pegasus to find her next opponent.

the appearance of a giant bird doesn't quite phase her now that she's met leanne, her assumption that she was simply meeting another laguz— this time on the battlefield. she'd seen them fighting someone else earlier as well. it'll be difficult to approach such a large fearsome opponent with her lance, so caeda opts to open the tome that she'd picked up earlier.

her gaze darts over the fine lines of the spell, before she makes an attempt at casting. "bolganone!" she calls out, holding her hand in the air like she'd seen many mages do before her.

[ caeda rolls to attack tibarn with bolganone from range, 9, 2 damage, tibarn 4/6HP ] [ darting blow activates! again :3, 19, 2 damage, tibarn 2/6HP ]

he's fast but she's faster.

well, that and also the explosion of bolganone is large. so much so that even she wouldn't have been able to avoid her own spell.

"uhm." caeda blinks with wide eyes, perhaps momentarily forgetting that she's on a battlefield. she was never a magic user, but apparently the spell bolganone didn't care about such a thing. she would have to think azelle for dropping the tome earlier— it could be her key to victory.

What in hell—

By the great Soan's long, fluffy tail, does Tibarn hate magic. Arcane arts of the beorc have always been the greatest bane of all laguz - beyond understanding for most of them and intimidating just from that alone, on top of the various types being particularly threatening to some of them: the winds that snap his brothers' wings, the flames that burn the beasts' hides, the thunders that pierce even dragon scales.

The one saving grace was that the users of magic would usually be vulnerable - soft, frail, lacking the protection of armor. Usually, they don't fly.

So when Tibarn's next opponent attempts to fry him, one can imagine he finds himself rather displeased.

Tibarn HP: 2/6

With a hawk's shriek piercing through the air as he wrestles himself free of the explosion, he draws a circle in the sky to gain some distance first, before charging at Caeda, talons outstretched - one leg aimed at her side, one at her mount's shoulder.

Prayer Ring heals Tibarn. Tibarn HP: 2.5/6

Tibarn attacks with Killer Knuckles: 2d20(-4)= 10, 2. Crit, Hit! (-2.5HP) Caeda HP: 2.5/5

The former lands better than the latter before Tibarn retreats. His shoulder burns; if he lets her land too many more solid hits, he may end up forced to withdraw to avoid becoming immobilized mid-air.

"Alllllright. Come on, let's see it," he grumbles, his voice unchanged in comparison to his unshifted form. He ain't fond of magic, sure, but it's not like he blames the girlie for using it. She's here to win, after all - he expects his weaknesses to be exploited.

#❁ all skies shall belong to me ; ic. ❁#❁ sometimes it is necessary to exchange a few words ; ask. ❁#toaboel2023 #❁ support ; caeda. ❁

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ajlikoshlt · 5 months

Text

Bottle of water. (Jesse Fast & Furious)

A/n : it's not my gif.

Jesse & Female Reader.

I was in Jesse's room, on my phone while he was tinkering I don't know what. I was obsessed with what my screen projected when I heard a throat scrape. I look at Jesse arching an eyebrow.

"What's going on?" I asked while placing my cell phone on his bedside table.

"You can give me the bottle of water, I'm thirsty."

"Well logical if I give you the bottle it's because you're thirsty eh, no need to tell me I know it." I said while rolling my eyes.

"If you knew you just had to put the water bottle in front of me." He said, giving me a black look.

I got up and quickly pulled up my jeans before giving him his bottle of water.

"You're welcome above all."

"I was going to say it."

"Well say it, what are you waiting for? The flood?"

"Thank you."

"But I know."

I smiled at him quickly and went back to my place, one of my favorite hobbies, watched him tinker and explain to me things that I absolutely do not understand.

In fact, my relationship with Jesse is quite special, we are friends, even best friends. We are constantly in provocation, we even insult each other sometimes. And we are above all opposites, whether it is in terms of character, physically and morally speaking. To tell the truth, I am a very big talker, I love talking for hours, in the meantime divering on various topics. As for Jesse, he is quite silent, of course it depends, but most of the time, he listens to me talk and say nonsense without saying anything. He answers me a few times when it's really necessary. Same for hobbies, I love makeup, fashion and everything that goes with it. I'm only interested in cars when he talks about them, at least I try. And he, well, all this is his world, cars, computers, a crazy scientist about all these things that I don't understand. Next to him, and both of them, I look more like a brainless bitch and he looks more like a geek. In short, big opposites.

"Jesse, do you think that one day the Earth will explode?" I said while trying myself in front of him. "Do you think I would have time to spend all my money on pairs of Louboutin or to put a whole salary just for a Dior bag?"

He raised his head towards me, the palm of my hand was placed on my cheek and my elbow on the table. He looked me straight in the eyes, shaking his head. But that didn't stop me from continuing to talk like nothing happened.

"And the conclusion is that I think I should really do that instead of the other thing, it's much better."

"Are you done?"

"Yes?" I said while arching an eyebrow, "If I speak more it means that I'm done."

"That's good."

"I know."

He finally got up and I did the same by trying on the bed and next to him. Night had already fallen and it was quite late. He opened his arms and I slipped into it, putting my head on his chest and my hand on his stomach. A few minutes passed, silence reigned in the room. I stood up and looked at him. He did the same.

My hands landed on his cheeks, he wrapped his arms around my waist. And as usual, in our spare time and late at night, we were on this bed, exchanging languid kisses and words of love.

heyyy, thanks to reading me, hope you'd enjoy it and sorry for language mistakes, english isn't my birth language. See ya'

amande <3

#books and reading #fem!reader #fast and furious #jesse x reader #fast and furious x reader #reading #my fic #fic rec #female reader #jesse x female reader

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journey-to-the-attic · 3 months

Text

3rd anni req 10: luke, raphael / chocolate

ao3 link

note: thirteen's in this one too, since this is set in a sorta-hypothetical second exchange year! i struggled a bit with how to execute this one - so sorry if this wasn't quite what you wanted, anon ^^;

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“Do you think Luke’s acting weird?”

Thirteen blows a bubble in her milkshake, then ducks back down to tighten another screw. She hums. “Nope. Why?”

I glance over at the white beret peeking out from behind a hedge. It bobs up and down slightly, then abruptly retreats again. “I just… have a feeling.”

She glances up from her work. Of course, the hat isn’t there anymore, and I can’t be bothered to explain it, so I just let her go back to her helmet-contraption.

“Eh. Sometimes angels just do stuff we don’t get,” She says after a moment, swapping the screwdriver for a cloth and giving the shell a quick polish. “Here, put this on.”

I let her fasten the helmet on my head without much thought - which I probably shouldn’t do, but I’ve got other things on my mind. As Thirteen starts adjusting knobs and murmuring half-incantations, I skim over everything that’s happened so far.

It started, I think, as soon as we got to school. Luke had a bag, which was already a little unusual, and as soon as he spotted me, he started fumbling around inside - but Solomon, not paying attention, started ushering us all into the building before he could find whatever it was.

I don’t think I’d thought much of it at the time. I thought Luke’s conversation was oddly stilted during our first lesson, but it wasn’t until he dived under the table for the third time that I finally realised that something was off.

“Ah, that’s beautiful,” Thirteen says with some satisfaction, and carefully pops the helmet back off again. “Better let Mephisto know…”

“Which one?”

“The stupid one.”

By Thirteen’s metric, that doesn’t narrow it down. I pat down my hair. I don’t feel any different, so I have no idea what that gadget was supposed to do.

Back to Luke, though - I tried to ask him if he was feeling alright as we left that first class, but I don’t think he heard me at all. He seemed completely occupied by something, and just as he finally did turn to me as if to speak, Mammon came around the corner, and he quickly ducked behind Simeon instead.

Simeon himself doesn’t even seem to have noticed anything is up. In the lesson after that, Luke spent most of the hour glancing distractedly around the room, then under the table, and he kept dropping his pens. Simeon didn’t even try to bring his focus back to the work - just whispered the answers when the teacher inevitably called on him.

…though it feels a little like the Devildom is working against him here. Every time it looks like he’s about the explain what’s going on, something comes up - Solomon dropping a small statue on his foot and yelping loudly, someone letting off a firework in the classroom, Diavolo stopping to start a very long conversation in the hall - and he responds like a deer caught in headlights.

Thirteen stands up with a huff and suggests we go get some cookies or something. Somehow, Luke is already there.

He doesn’t spot me, but I catch him almost immediately - his all-white apparel makes him stand out from a mile away in a mostly grey-clad student body. Simeon is nowhere to be seen, but Raphael is with him now, and they’re huddled just behind a display cabinet, as if the glass isn’t transparent.

Raphael is saying something - as we pass by, I try to listen in without getting closer, but I can only catch a few snippets.

“...attention… decisive strike… necessary?”

I glance at Luke. His face is a little blurred through the glass, but he doesn’t look as if he’s listening to a word Raphael is saying. He’s staring down at something in his hands, face creased in deep thought.

They look pretty comfortable there, so it’s a surprise when Raphael’s head suddenly emerges from around a corner as Thirteen and I are heading to our respective next classes. I lean forward, attempting to see around him, but it doesn’t look like Luke’s with him anymore.

“IK. I need to speak with you,” He says, very seriously. “Do you have time?”

“Uh… sure, yeah.” I glance up at Thirteen. She shrugs and carries on without me. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

He glances quickly back and forth, then leans over and peers into the nearest classroom. After a moment, he jerks his head, and leads the way inside.

“Listen,” He says seriously. “You’re a nice human.”

“...thanks?”

“I’m not done yet.”

“Oh, sorry.”

He seems to think for a moment. He scans the room one more time, then finally relaxes a little. “It wouldn’t be fair to leave you in the dark, that’s all. I just wanted to warn you.”

“...okay.” I have no idea what he’s trying to say here. “What’s this about?”

“I can’t tell you that - on my honour as an angel.” He presses his lips into a thin line, then sighs and pats me on the shoulder. “...we haven’t known each other for long, but I support you, too. I hope you will be alright.”

I have no idea what you’re on about... I manage an awkward smile. “Right. Well, uh, I’ll remember that. Thanks, Raphael.”

He offers a rare smile, but continues to look mildly troubled. He dithers on the spot for a moment, then nods, and holds the door open for me to leave.

He hurries ahead - and it seems like we’re heading in the same direction, but it’ll be awkward if I catch up with him now. I dawdle behind for a while, then start heading off in earnest. Except that backfires, because the delay seems to have given Raphael a false sense of security. Luke’s with him again, and they seem to be having a confidential conversation.

I stop before I can walk into their field of view, just around the corner. I feel bad for eavesdropping, but I really know what’s going on with Raphael…

“You what?!” Luke sounds incredibly stressed. “What are you talking about?! That’s not— that’s not what’s going on here at all!”

Raphael’s voice is much more measured. “You can be honest with me, Luke. I won’t tell Simeon.”

“No! You’ve got totally the wrong idea!” Now he sounds as if he’s about to cry. Do I need to step in? “Honestly— why would you even think of that?!”

There’s a pause. I imagine a tiny, thoughtful frown on Raphael’s face.

“...I might have misinterpreted my observations,” He admits after a moment. “I just wanted to be supportive.”

Luke sighs loudly. “...even if you were right, you’re supposed to STOP me from doing that stuff.”

“Well, for all I knew, it was justified by Devildom standards. Like a warrior’s code. So I didn’t want to make assumptions.”

“Come on,” groans Luke. “What’s Alecto been telling you?”

“Oh, this isn’t from her. She’s very knowledgeable, though…”

It’s at that point that it sounds like they’re moving again, and I panic, so end up ducking into a different corridor instead. It means having to take the long way around to the classroom, but I do catch Alecto herself - trying to convince Lucifer to climb into the big box she’s holding - on the way there.

When I get in and make to sit down, Luke clears his throat and reaches for his already half-open bag again. At that exact moment, the teacher walks in as well, and he snaps his mouth shut - zipping his bag closed at the same time. And something similar happens again when it looks like he’s about to try once more as we’re leaving the classroom.

It’s at that point that I decide I should probably help him out. I don’t know what he’s trying, but the way things are going, it’s like absolutely everyone doesn’t want it to happen. Which is unfair - it’s like fate is ganging up on him.

I’m not sure when to bring it up, though. Luke’s beginning to look more and more defeated, and it’s almost unbearable to see, but I don’t want to put him on the spot.

And it’s just then that Raphael arrives again - whether to save the day, or further complicate it, I don’t think even he knows. He stops me in the hall, gestures for me to follow him into another empty classroom, then clears his throat.

“I believe I’ve been misinformed,” He murmurs very quickly. “I thought you and Luke were feuding.”

“...huh??” I think back to what he said earlier. “Wait, so— that was really a warning? What did you think he’d do?”

“Ahem. Angels have… quite a lot of unexpected tactics available to us.” He glances awkwardly to the side. “But, anyway, I’m glad. I was going to tell y—”

“RAPHAEL.” The door opens with a clang, and Luke all but topples in, face completely pink. “What're you— actually, you know what, just don’t say anything!”

Raphael lifts his hands and takes a step backwards. Luke takes a deep breath, then makes eye contact with me and goes even pinker.

“Look, um, I…” He fumbles with his bag for what I really hope is the last time. “...I’ve been… trying to…”

I almost expect someone to come barging in at that very moment. But luck is finally on Luke’s side - and he presents me with a pastel blue box.

“Here,” He says a little breathlessly. I blink at it for a full three seconds before realising what's going on.

“Oh!” I accept the box with both hands, a little stunned - I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. “For me?”

“Y-yeah! Well, um— I’ve, um, got to go right now…” He hops on the spot, then offers an anxious smile. “I— I hope you like it! See you!”

And he races out again, before I even have time to thank him.

Already, Raphael is practically burning a hole into the box with his eyes. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t deathly curious by now, too - so I undo the ribbon, then peek under the lid.

It’s… chocolates. Little star-shaped ones, arranged like a constellation and wrapped carefully in tissue. And the colours…

I stare at them for a moment. Then I remember something.

Today’s February 14th.

…ah.

#3rd anni event #obey me raphael #obey me luke #obey me thirteen #jtta ik #writing

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crisiscutie · 1 year

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since we had Sephiroth with his mommy issues, how would it go with him having a darling that has daddy issues?

They both tend to switch sometimes though; when darling is in need of emotional affection and stability, Sephiroth becomes the daddy and when Sephiroth is need of emotional affection and stability, darling becomes the mommy. It's like supporting each other that way. Would it be helpful for them in a way to cope with things or would it turn out to be difficult?

I can see it working out well for both, for the most part. Sephiroth has a natural warmth and attentiveness to loved ones that will make him a good companion for a darling with daddy issues. He could provide that validation and care she needs in times of hardship. Sephiroth gives the devotion and love (that he desires) to his bonds so I'd imagine him acting in this role will make him feel better about himself. It's great you proposed a switching mechanism of the parental roles! That would be an interesting but necessary part of their relationship, as it allows for a fair exchange of need between both parties. Sephiroth will certainly need his darling to be there for him when he needs the comfort of a mother figure.

Content Warnings: NSFW themes, Discussions of Mommy and Daddy Issues, Mentions of Confinement, Emotional Manipulation and Yandere Sephiroth.

༻❁༺ To Soothe Sephiroth's Mommy Needs:

He would often lay his head on her nurturing chest, feeling the warmth of her embrace as he wept or quietly mumbled his worries. Most of the time, he found solace in her mere presence; no words needed. On a particularly bad day through, the Darling would struggle to bring him that solace, initially.

Sephiroth appeared before his darling one day, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the silence as his head hung in defeat.

Darling pulled him into her arms, her breath tickling his ear as she asked what was wrong.

He opened his mouth, but his throat was tight, the lump of emotion blocked what he wanted to say.

She tenderly grabbed one of his gloved hands, and with a gentle, reassuring squeeze, led him to the sofa.

She would sit down, her hands patting her lap in a soothing rhythm.

Sephiroth slowly yielded to her warm embrace, feeling his tension melt away as he nestled into her lap.

As she ran her fingers through his silky, silver locks, his exhausted sobs filled the air, speaking of his friends who had left Shinra and his struggle to not fight them.

She would validate his emotional turmoil, telling him it's not wrong to not want to hunt down his friends.

She affirmed that no matter what happened with his friend's desertion, she would be there to support him. She will be his anchor.

Sephiroth's voice was a broken whisper as he asked, "How would you know that?" before his sorrow took hold of him again.

The Darling's following silence said more than words could, as her body radiated a caring warmth.

Late into the night, Sephiroth finally calmed down, thanking his darling for all what she does.

Sephiroth took the following few days off after that night.

During those few days, he was like a toddler, clinging to his darling with a firm grip.

He paid no attention to requests for mission briefings or other duties that called for his attention.

He needed some quality time with his darling, just the two of them.

༻❁༺ To Soothe his Darling with Daddy Needs:

Sephiroth will pick his darling up often, either princess carry or having her straddle his waist. She'll nestle her head into his chest or neck, depending on how he's carrying her. Her emotional breakdowns are rare, but when they happen, it'd be like a scorching heat, searing into their memories. When Sephiroth was once assigned to a long mission, her separation anxiety would overwhelm her, making her feel like she was being ripped in two.

One day, his darling came to him, her hands trembling as they covered her chest, her eyes are filled with sorrow as she bid him goodbye on his mission.

Sephiroth discerned a slight, airy shake in her voice. It's her unique, unmistakable cue for the breakdown that was coming.

Sephiroth immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her emotional state from any curious onlookers.

The darling's inner little girl was overcome with fear when she realized what she had done wrong.

Sephiroth spoke with a stern voice, instructing her to follow him to his office.

His expression was composed and collected, but his eyes radiated deep-seated affection and concern for his darling as they walked.

When they were in the privacy of his office, his darling lowered her head, expecting Sephiroth to chide her for what she just done in public. Her struggle to hold back the emotion unravels within her.

Before she blurt out an apology, he gently lifts her chin.

He'd look deep into her eyes, his thumb gently caressing her cheek as he told her he'd come back.

He would find it impossible to leave her side, as the sight of her in such distress was too much for his heart to bear.

He attempted to find the words that will console her, but finds himself tongue-tied.

He settled on the best action to take: He scooped her up into his arms and held her securely against his chest as he carried her to the office's sofa.

After adjusting the cushions to her liking, he'll nestle next to her.

He stayed by her side, a silent but powerful reminder of his support, as she worked through her emotional breakdown.

When his darling's tears faltered, she gave him a faint, grateful smile in appreciation.

Sephiroth's voice was gentle as he instructed her to take a few deep breaths,

Calmness will surge through her as she opened her mouth.

He heard the teasing lilt of her voice, "I'm a big girl, I can manage without you for a while," and felt her peck his cheek as she giggled afterwards.

Despite his desire to stay, Sephiroth knew he had to trust her and prepare himself for his departure.

Just as he finally departs, he'd give her a mischievous grin and whisper that if she's a good girl while he's away, he'd reward her.

As soon as his mission is accomplished, he will dash to his darling and hold her close, pouring out all of the love and adoration that he had been saving up for her.

He revealed he had taken the time to sneak her a souvenir gift, showing he hadn't forgotten her during his lengthy mission.

His heart then would leapt with joy when he saw her eyes light up in delight at it.

He'd shower his darling with attention and adoration for the rest of that evening, feeling fulfilled to offer the same care he yearned for himself.

Headcanons over! It was fun writing those, so now, let's jump to the analysis!

༻❁༺ The negative side: This switching mechanism will lead to the development of intense separation anxiety, for both Sephiroth and his darling. And it will become a major point of concern for Shinra. They would see her as a distraction for their top hunting dog. Sephiroth is savvy enough and will take extra care to ensure that he and his Darling keep their affections private from Shinra and other prying eyes. This ultimately would be one of the major reasons for Sephiroth (and the darling if she is SOLDIER/VALKYRIE) to desert them.

As I echoed with Seph supporting a darling with an anxiety/panic disorder, two hurt people sharing each other's pain and healing it is a beautiful thing. Sephiroth and Darling will give each other the strength they need to work through their individual difficulties and grow as individuals. Not to mention, Darling and Sephiroth's inner child are comforted by the enveloping presence of the other, who protects them from the trauma that lingers.

It is essential to note the Darling will develop Electra tendencies toward Sephiroth, and Sephiroth's will develop Oedipal tendencies toward the darling due to their mutually dependent bond. A very long separation of these two individuals would be emotionally devastating for both.

༻❁༺ Now, for a Dark/Yandere Sephiroth:

His inclusion in this post is necessary to explore more of the destructive side of the daddy issues and mommy issues co-existing. In this case, the switching mechanism only enables the worst ventilation of both issues. Yandere Sephiroth would prey on his darling's daddy issues and use her as a vessel to vent his mommy issues. Sephiroth, in general, is the Crisis Cutie because he is an emotional powerhouse. He exhibited a rollercoaster of intense emotions, from rage to sorrow, due to his various crises throughout the FF7 series. I tie my writings to that by having showcasing how (Sane) Sephiroth with his darling is learning to be more vulnerable and open with his emotions by discovering healthy outlets with her. Now his Dark/Yandere counterpart with a darling? He releases his powerful emotions freely and without boundaries, all while the darling absorbs them, because she is addicted to him, his love and attention in particular.

Even with a darling with no daddy issues, he make will her hopelessly devoted to him, eventually. He would keep his darling isolated and make sure that he was the only person she felt connected to. She would hug him tightly, squeezing him close, and never wanting to let him go. And Sephiroth is a magnificent bastard. He would carefully measure the right amount of attention and affection to give to her, to keep him elevated, and her begging. Her world will become him. He will shatter her spirit, in the same way, his had been shattered... He controls her not out of sadism (though he is sadistic), but fear of her leaving him. He takes every precaution to make sure he never loses her, no matter what. When it comes to physical relations, I'd wager that straddling and spooning would be very common, especially when Yandere Sephiroth is playing the daddy role.

But anyways, I absolutely loved this question, thank you for asking it! I'd imagine these issues will play into Sephiroth and his darling's sex life as well. NSFW follow-up here!

Thank you for this interesting ask!

#sephiroth x reader #sephiroth #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy 7 #c.c rambles #ff7 x reader #be nice to your inner child folks #crisis cutie #character analysis #tw: mommy kink #tw: daddy kink #tw: daddy issues #yandere sephiroth

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hassedah · 6 months

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Do you think anyone is left handed? XD ooh, how does their handwriting look like? I have a hc that Aaron has dysleyia and thus never learned how to read fluently. But he still likes to read sometimes x) What are yours?

How do boys write?

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

Here is the headcanon you requested, I hope you enjoy it! ^^

I like the idea of Aaron being dyslexic. What's more, I doubt he learned to read and write as a child. It wasn't common at the time and Aaron was born at a rather complicated time in medieval history (between war, famine and a plague that had been over for a few decades but still had consequences). So I doubt that his little mother would have found the time, money and opportunity to teach him to read and write (although she would have had to know how to read and write herself, and given the literacy rate among women at the time, that's highly unlikely). Aaron must surely have learned to read and write later, perhaps by joining his wolf pack.

Dyslexia would probably not have been detected, not only because the word didn't exist, but also because someone who had difficulty reading and writing wouldn't have seemed surprising.

However, Dyslexia could be detected at the manor. If Ethan has any knowledge on the subject it would be possible. If not, with a dyslexic MC themselves. I think that would be the most coherent because I can't think of any reason why Ethan should have been interested in the Dys disorder.

Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^

Vladimir :

Vladimir is right-handed, but he can write with his left hand if necessary. His handwriting is not disastrous with his left hand, but it is even slower than when he writes with his right hand.

His handwriting is beautiful and neat, but he writes very slowly, even when he's in a hurry. This is because he needs to concentrate a lot to have a neat handwriting. If he tries to write faster his handwriting tends to become illegible (something his teachers used to reproach him for when he was a child (while asking him to write faster)).

He writes quite small. As a result, he generally doesn't take up much space on a sheet of paper. His letters are very tight and his handwriting tends to lean to the left of the page. He can write in Braille. He learnt it so that he could talk to Raphaël when they were still exchanging letters.

He always signs with his surname, which is rather unusual for a vampire given that the majority of them only sign with their first name, but Vladimir is incapable of not using his, it's far too important to him to give it up.

He is the one in the manor who masters the most different languages, especially when it comes to the written word (this is due to his education). He can easily read and write texts in French, English and Italian, as well as German, Hungarian and Latin. He makes very few spelling mistakes in these languages and is usually the one to go to if someone has a grammatical or spelling question. He can also read Old English. He also reads Russian and Ancient Greek easily (although with a little more difficulty for the latter).

As he is very clumsy, writing requires a lot of concentration (he probably suffers from dyspraxia but has never been diagnosed for this). But that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy writing. In fact, he loves writing. The other members of the manor have already offered to buy him a typewriter so that he can continue to write his stories with less fatigue, but Vladimir thinks that the quality of his writing is not worth the expense.

Béliath :

Béliath is right-handed. He can write with his left hand if he really needs to, but in that case he writes very badly, much to his dismay. So if he gets injured and can no longer use his right hand, he will usually ask others to write for him (and the best choice is Ivan or Vladimir).

Béliath writes mainly in cursive and his handwriting is quite ancient. He's not particularly aware of it, because that's how his sister taught him to write, several centuries ago, and he's never thought of changing the way he writes, even less since the people at Moondance have been complimenting him on the beauty of his handwriting. It's true that his handwriting is very pretty and rather neat, and the letters are spaced far enough apart not to be unpleasant to read. He sometimes boasts about it to the others at the manor, and it has to be said that he easily has one of the most beautiful handwritings.

He writes rather quickly (no doubt because of the invitations to his parties, which he has to write by hand since Vladimir refuses to buy a computer and a printer), while keeping his handwriting legible for everyone. His handwriting tends to lean to the right of the page.

Its writing is neither too small nor too large. The letters are easy to read and different enough not to be confused with each other when reading.

Like most vampires and supernatural creatures, he signs with his first name. He doesn't really have a surname anyway, unless you consider Son of Asmodeus to be a family name. His signature is rather complex, with a lot of interlacing around his first name, which makes for a rather complicated signature to reproduce.

He can write in several different languages with varying degrees of spelling ability. He has a perfect command of the demonic language his sister taught him, he can write in Latin and his French and English are not bad (if you ignore the fact that he never uses accents in French). As for the rest, he generally speaks them much better than he writes them.

Ivan :

Ivan is right-handed and can't write with his left hand. It's illegible every time. He tries to practise, though, because he thinks it's cool to be able to write well with both hands, but he can't really do it. If he gets injured and can't write with his right hand, he'll try to write with his left before giving up and asking Vladimir or Beliath for help.

His handwriting is simple, not pretty, but perfectly legible for everyone. It's a quality he really appreciates, because Aaron has already told him that he prefers his handwriting to Beliath's. Ivan has rarely been so proud of himself, after all, everyone in the manor recognises that Beliath's handwriting is pretty.

He can write quickly when he needs to, but this affects the legibility of his handwriting, so he avoids doing so most of the time. He also has a tendency to write quite large, which means that he generally needs a lot more paper to write a text than the other members of the manor.

He has asked Vladimir and Raphaël to teach him to write and read in Braille. He still wants to be able to communicate with Raphaël, even if he leaves the manor, and he would like to be able to read the little stories that Raphaël writes himself and not always have to ask Raphaël to read them for him. He still has a bit of trouble reading quickly, but he's getting better at it, although writing in Braille is still very difficult for him.

He has kept the signature he had before his death, so he continues to sign with his surname, signing with his first name seems strange and… unpleasant. It's not that he doesn't like his first name, but he thought he'd be using his family name signature for decades to come, and having to give it up so soon is still too painful for him.

He can only write in French, although Vladimir persists in trying to teach him at least English (at first Vladimir wanted to teach him Latin). Ivan makes relatively few spelling mistakes (which he's proud of, given that Ethan makes more spelling mistakes than he does in French).

Aaron :

Aaron is normally left-handed, but at the time he was born it was very much frowned upon. So he was forced to learn to use his right hand to work, write and fence, which didn't help his handwriting, which was already difficult to read, and he was much more awkward using his right hand to fight with a sword. Today, he has stopped using his right hand for writing and fencing and has become much more skilful.

He had to concentrate to achieve a beautiful handwriting. The shapes of his letters are simpler than Beliath's because he favours ease of reading over beauty. He also writes quite slowly and never tries to write faster. He knows that writing faster only makes his text more illegible.

Like most supernatural creatures, Aaron signs with his first name. His signature is quite simple, and he sees no point in trying to embellish it with interlacing or lines. For him, it's a waste of time and doesn't fit in with his idea of a signature that should remain legible. After all, with all the interlacing that Beliath puts around his first name, he sometimes finds it hard to read his signature.

Aaron speaks far more languages than he writes, particularly Elvish, and is the only member of the manor to do so. He has a tendency to make a lot of spelling mistakes, but in his defence, between language changes and spelling reforms, he never knows where to turn. He barely has time to understand a spelling rule before humans are happy to change it straight away. He only spells Spanish. For the rest, he always asks Vladimir.

Despite the difficulties, Aaron loves to write and read poetry. Along with Raphaël, he probably owns the largest number of poetry collections. However, he is quite precise about the books he looks for: the text must not be too small and the lines must be spaced far enough apart to be pleasant to read. That's one of the reasons why he doesn't really like Vladimir's old books: the writing is too small and he has a hard time distinguishing between the lines.

Raphaël :

Raphaël is totally ambidextrous, but as a child he was left-handed. His parents insisted that he write with his right hand, but he didn't really want to, so as soon as they weren't watching him he would write with his left hand again. He eventually learned to use his right hand for writing and fencing, but this was only to surprise people who thought he was only left-handed.

When Raphaël was writing in cursive, he loved writing poetry, especially for Margarita and Alessio, who regularly received poetry from Raphaël. He still loves to write, but now he uses a slate and stylus to write in Braille. In fact, he always carries a slate and stylus with him in case he needs to write down an idea somewhere other than his bedroom or the library. The problem is that he always ends up forgetting the paper somewhere.

He found Braille much easier to learn to read than to learn to write. This is because to write braille text, you have to write it the other way round, as the dots are made on the back of the page. It wasn't at all instinctive at first and he got it wrong more than once. Now he's quite happy to be teaching Ivan to write in Braille.

He always signs with his first name and his signature hasn't changed much, but it's still complex to reproduce. There is a lot of interlacing around his first name and the capital R is huge compared to the other letters.

He likes to exchange messages with Vladimir and Ivan, as only the three of them can read them, they usually use them to prepare surprises for the others or to complain that so-and-so has forgotten to clean up again or that Ethan keeps slamming doors.

Raphaël is not bad at spelling and grammar, not as good as Vladimir, but unlike Vladimir, he doesn't read grammar books for pleasure. He can speak more languages than he can read and write. But he reads and writes easily in English, Latin, Italian and French.

He reads a lot, and is one of the biggest readers in the manor. When he first arrived, he only had Braille books, which limited his reading possibilities because they were big books and didn't always cover the subjects that interested him. The arrival of Ivan, introduced him to audio books. He listens to a lot of them now, especially romance novels, and loves the fact that he can listen to books while lying comfortably in bed or cooking.

Ethan :

Ethan is left-handed and he really can't write with his right hand. It has to be said that it never occurred to him to try, and his parents never tried to force him to write with his right hand either. If he gets injured and can no longer write with his left hand, he always asks Beliath to write for him.

Ethan's handwriting is not legible. His "a's" look like "e's" or "o's", his "u's", "i's" and "n's" also look very similar, he never dots his "i's", so they can also be mistaken for "l's", and when he writes in French, he doesn't use the slightest accent, whereas he does in Finnish. It's an ordeal for everyone in the manor to reread what he's written, and Aaron doesn't even try anymore. The only one who manages to read it is Beliath.

He writes very small, which doesn't make it easy to read his handwriting, and he also writes quite quickly. He doesn't like writing anyway, his texts are full of abbreviations and drawings to speed things up, and he's the only one who can decipher the notes he takes. If he can do maths for the sake of doing maths, sitting down to write is an ordeal for him. He doesn't have the patience for it.

Like most vampires, he signs with his first name, a habit he picked up fairly recently after arriving at the manor. His signature is rather simple, with few lines and no interlacing, he framed it with just two lines. The main thing for him was that it was quick to make.

He is quite good at spelling, although his handwriting is not very legible. He writes and reads texts easily in Finnish, English, German and French. He can also read a simple text in Latin… if he has no choice, really, no choice.

He has no idea why everyone finds his handwriting difficult to read. He finds that what he writes is always perfectly legible.

Neil :

Neil is right-handed. He can write with his left hand, he even writes quite well, but he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all. So he will always write right-handed unless he really has no choice.

He's always had a nice handwriting, and that's even truer now that writing has become easy and enjoyable. Before, writing wasn't really something that could be described as enjoyable, given the difficulty of the task. He generally prefers to use a beautiful fountain pen for writing, and doesn't hesitate to buy the most expensive ones. He always has one with him in a small box and several in his desk drawers, and tends to change fountain pens according to his mood.

He always writes in a cursive script that looks rather ancient. There is a lot of curl, especially in the capital letters. His letters are easy to distinguish from one another and the words are spaced far enough apart not to give the impression that the text is cramped. His handwriting always leans very slightly to the right.

His signature is elegant and simpler than his usual handwriting. He always signed with his first name.

He has the impression that the rules of spelling and grammar are constantly changing, as are the meanings of words. He tries to follow them, though, because he doesn't like making mistakes, but he gets tired of constantly having to unlearn what he's learned.

The language he knows best is still Irish, and although he has completely lost the habit of speaking Old Irish, he can still read it easily, as well as Middle Irish and Modern Irish.

He also reads and writes in many other languages without difficulty. The languages he knows best apart from Irish are: English, Greek and Ancient Greek, Latin, French, as well as German, Italian, Spanish and Scottish Gaelic. He can also read and follow a simple discussion in Arabic, Mandarin and Russian. To his dismay, knowing so many languages is more of a problem than anything else, and he tends to switch languages when he can't find the right word in the one he spoke before, which means he loses most of the people he's talking to.

Léandra :

Léandra is left-handed. However, she can write with her right hand if she needs to. Before teaching Beliath to write, she had never written with her right hand. She forced herself to write with her right hand, seeing that it was the one her little brother used all the time; she wanted it to be easier for him to copy her movements that way.

She doesn't really take care of her handwriting. However, if she forces herself, she can have very pretty handwriting, but it's not something that interests her. For her, writing has to be practical before it's pretty; she writes to get a message across or to give information, so she doesn't really see the point of trying to turn it into a work of art.

Léandra is used to writing fast and big. She doesn't think writing should take up too much of her time. In fact, she's never understood how her little brother could enjoy spending so much time writing beautiful letters.

She always signs with her first name and her signature is quite complex. There's a lot of interlacing that surrounds her, like a shield around her signature.

She is quite good at spelling, having taught Beliath to read and write in several different languages, including the demonic one.

She is fluent in several different languages, written and especially spoken. She can write and read demonic, English, Italian and Latin texts with ease. For the rest, she much prefers an oral discussion. This is not to say that she would be unable to write in other languages, just that she sees no point in learning their spelling if she can manage in an oral discussion.

Farah :

Farah is right-handed, but she can write with her left hand if she has problems. However, this affects the quality of her writing, which is harder to read.

Her handwriting is simple but neat. Her brother taught her to write, shortly after they left home. She's happy to be able to read and write, of course, but writing has never been an activity she's been keen on: sitting down for several minutes to write a letter always seems horribly boring to her. Whereas reading, may not be her favourite thing to do, but she'll never turn down a new book, especially a fantasy one.

Her letters are mainly in block letters, as she finds cursive writing too time-consuming. She generally writes fairly large and fairly quickly.

Her signature is very simple: she signs only with her first name, without adding the slightest line or interlacing around it. She clearly doesn't see the point and doesn't want to spend any more time signing than she has to.

As she has travelled a lot with her pack, she speaks and reads a lot of different languages, but this is less the case when it comes to writing. In any case, she doesn't always have the necessary writing materials with her and she always loses her notepads or pens when she does have them. She can write Latin and Spanish fairly easily, but the rest is much more complicated. She rarely masters the written word in other languages, even though she can read them. For example, she can read texts in English, Italian and French without being able to write in those languages. And although she can hold a discussion in Arabic, Swedish and German, she is unable to read or write a text in these languages.

#Moonlight lovers #Moonlight lovers Vladimir #Moonlight lovers Béliath #Moonlight lovers Ivan #Moonlight lovers Aaron #Moonlight lovers Raphaël #Moonlight lovers Ethan #Moonlight lovers Neil #Moonlight lovers Léandra #Moonlight lovers Farah

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northern-passage · 2 years

Text

i’ve written a little hunter/lea pov swap, taking place a few years after their assignment together, sometime before keld, in a weird place between jealousy and resentment.

content warnings for: heavy alcohol use, sexual content, emetophobia, (mild) body horror

—

The job went well.

You probably shouldn’t feel quite so surprised - or relieved - at your success, but when you heard the word vampire you were bracing for the worst of it. But… it went well. And now you’re celebrating, the locals paying for your food and drinks, and covering the price of your rooms for the night.

You stare down at your drink, slowly rotating the glass in your hands. You’re pretty sore, though overall your injuries are relatively minor - you got a few nasty scratches on your side, but nothing you can’t handle.

You and Lea have just finished a rather large meal, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you, Lea leaned back in the booth across from you and people watching as the townsfolk celebrate raucously in the parlor. It’s been a while since you’ve had a good, hearty meal like that, and you feel quite content, even despite the occasional drunk coming over and bumping into your table, needling you for details and trying to look into your hood.

It’s tolerable. You’d prefer this over being stoned and chased out of town - with small towns like this, it’s always one extreme or the other. You’ll take the annoying drunks over the stones any day.

Lea clears their throat then, and you raise an eyebrow at them expectantly as they lean forward and press their elbows to the table.

“You alright if I head up?” they ask, glancing sideways as they do.

You raise your eyebrow even higher.

“Yeah. ‘S fine,” you say slowly, crossing your arms over your chest. You’re surprised it took them this long to ask.

They give you a tight smile, resting their palms on the table.

“You going to stay down here?”

You nod.

“You’ll be alright by yourself?” they press.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, your voice harder this time.

They purse their lips, before nodding.

“Good work, today,” Lea starts, and you roll your eyes, earning yourself an indignant scoff from them. “I mean it.” They pat their hand against the table a few times, glancing sideways again.

“Just go, Lea,” you say with a sigh.

“Yeah. Don’t stay up too late,” they say, and now you scoff at them, but they dart out of the booth before you can make a smart retort.

You watch them cut across the parlor, heading for the bar, straight to the woman they’ve been making eyes at all night.

You watch them for a few moments as they exchange some words, narrowing your eyes from inside your hood. You reach for your glass and take a long drink.

The woman had been clinging to Lea earlier in the evening, but was at least courteous enough to let you alone while you ate. You had spoken with her when you first arrived in town - she seems to have been the one delegated by the town to be your point of contact, and she set you up at the inn here and helped you gather information at the start of the job.

Her and Lea had hit it off rather handsomely. Much to your annoyance.

You sink down into the booth, your face twitching at the thought. You can’t help but steal another glance over at them, just as Lea starts to lead her up the stairs. You glare at them from inside your hood - until Lea glances back down, your eyes meeting for a brief moment before you quickly look away.

You hastily take another drink, finishing off your glass and setting it down on the table harder than necessary.

You knew when you got two separate rooms here that it was going to end this way. It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and Lea takes advantage of it when they can. You don’t blame Lea - they have their needs. You have yours. For you, it’s something you can only relieve back at the stronghold. No one here would touch you.

You glance back up the stairs again, but Lea and the woman are gone.

You stay in the booth for a while longer, nursing a few more glasses, but eventually the stares get to be a bit too much. Without Lea here, no one seems to have the nerve to approach you - so instead they just stare. You know these people are harmless - Lea would never have left you alone if otherwise - but that doesn’t lessen your irritation. Your high spirits from earlier have all but evaporated, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth, and you push yourself out of the booth, swaying a bit on your feet as you shove your way towards the stairs.

You grasp at the banister and drag yourself up, blinking as you lean against the railing. How many drinks did you have…

You grunt as you reach the top of the stairs, stumbling across the terrace and down the dark hall towards your room. You fumble with your keys, taking a few sloppy attempts before you manage to unlock the door and stagger inside. You slam the door closed behind you, before throwing yourself down onto the bed. You stay unmoving like that, burying your face in the pillows until the room stops spinning so much.

Eventually you roll onto your back, slowly forcing yourself to sit up. You pull off your boots, kicking them across the room as you tug off your cloak and throw it to the floor. You run your hands over your face, rubbing at your eyes and taking a deep breath.

You pull at your shirt then, tentatively pressing a hand to the bandages wrapped around your torso. Lea had patched you up themself - no healers in this town, and you’ll always trust Lea over any random surgeon. You had both been in a bit of a panic when you got back earlier, unsure of the extent of your injuries, though you had insisted you were fine. Understandably, Lea didn’t believe you. You got bit in the arm, too, but you managed to get the creature off of you before it could really latch on. It was a younger vampire, and it was alone - thank the gods - and while you had a rough start, the two of you took care of it rather efficiently.

You pull up your shirt again, wincing as you touch the dark stains seeping through the white bandages, tracing the outline of each jagged claw mark with your finger.

You glance over at the bloody rags on the corner table, at Lea’s little medical bag still open and scattered all over the place. You imagine Lea there again, cursing at you as they scrambled to stitch you up, both of you breathless and jumpy from adrenaline. You close your eyes, pressing your hand to your side, feeling the wet heat from beneath the bandages, and you imagine Lea’s hands on you, the bite of the needle as they started the sutures. Their hand grabbing at your hip, holding you steady, the way they had crouched on the floor beside you, on their knees and blinking up at you when it was all done, your blood on their hands.

You imagine Lea in their room with that woman.

You inhale sharply, opening your eyes and scowling down at your hand, gripping your side, fresh blood bright red as it pools under the bandages. Your jaw clenches, and you shake your head, but you can’t get the image out of your mind - on the floor, on their knees in front of you - in front of someone else. The image blurs.

The room is spinning again, but you ignore that, your hand going back to your side, your eyes fluttering closed again. It’s not your hand - it’s Lea’s hand, warm and bloody and steady as they hold you open, their fingers curling at the edge, their dark eyes flashing as they press into you, hot pain crawling along the sutures and radiating up your arm, forcing you to slump back onto the bed. Their hands digging into you as the needle pierces your skin, pulling the pieces back together around their fingers, stitching carefully around their touch, their hands tightening inside you as they lean forward to kiss your stomach.

You blink up at the ceiling, swallowing hard, shame and embarrassment making you hesitate before you slide your hand from the bloody bandages and reach lower. You’re breathing hard, from the pain or from the imagined Lea between your legs, you can’t be sure. Probably both.

You fumble to undo your belt, slipping your hand beneath your waistband, and the room is spinning faster, your other hand grabbing at a fistful of blankets and sheets. You see them looking up at you, and you imagine them with their hair down, imagine the feeling of it brushing against your stomach, your thighs, their hands on your hips.

Your hand quickens, your hips bucking without Lea’s hands actually there to hold you in place, your body trembling under their imagined touch. You bite your lip, muffling your pathetic sounds, but it’s not enough to stop their name from escaping you, a breathless whisper - and you have to stop, pulling your hand back, a sudden revulsion overwhelming you, their name ringing in your ears, a guilty confession in the empty room.

You sit up quickly, too quickly, grimacing at the pain in your side, and your vision swims - you’re barely able to make it to the washbasin across the room in time before you vomit. You lean over the porcelain, your legs shaking, and you lay your arms around the edge of the basin, pressing your face into your elbow, your breath harsh against the bile burning in your throat.

“Fuck,” is all you can say.

After a few moments you lift your head to glare at yourself in the mirror, your lip curling in disgust.

You can blame it on the alcohol. You drank too much, that’s all. That’s all. Maybe you’ll even get lucky, and the alcohol won’t let you remember this in the morning.

—

The job went well.

Lea is pleased - and relieved. It was a bit touch and go at the start, but the vampire didn’t stand a chance; it was young and inexperienced, and it was out here all alone. Vampires don’t survive on their own.

Lea shifts in their seat, leaning back and peering around the parlor. It’s loud in here, and full of people eating and dancing and celebrating - small towns like this always like to celebrate. Give them any reason and they’ll drink and eat until morning. Lea is grateful for it, mainly because the celebratory mood leads to generosity - the townsfolk offered to pay for their drinks, and their meal, and their rooms, at least for tonight. Can’t say no to that.

Lea reaches for their drink, finishing the glass before eyeing their partner across the booth. Empty plates and a few other empty glasses are piled up in the center of the table between them, and Lea watches them as they stare down into their own drink, slowly turning it in their hands. They seem content, at least.

They’re always hard to read, with that fucking hood on.

Their injuries don’t seem to be bothering them, anyways. It was all Lea could do, without a healer in this town. It’s not the first time they’ve had to stitch them up. It won’t be the last. Lea flexes their hands under the table, fidgeting with their ring.

They turn away then, before they get caught staring.

Lea glances over the parlor again, amused by a few nearby drunks - before catching the eye of the woman from earlier. Her name is Sabe - Lea knows this, though they pretended not to, for some reason. Pretended to forget, in front of the hunter. That woman. She’s been the point of contact here, setting them up at the inn when they first arrived, as well as answering a lot of Lea’s questions and helping them gather information from the other townsfolk at the start of the job.

She seems rather keen on Lea.

Sabe smiles, leaning against the bar, tilting her head, long dark hair falling around her shoulders as she laughs at something Lea can’t hear.

Lea considers her for a moment, before smiling back.

They sit up a bit in the booth then, before stealing another look across the table again.

Lea is certain the hunter already suspects - nevermind their brusque attitude towards the woman, the two have done this song and dance many times before. But it’s never easier. Never less embarrassing. In fact, it gets harder every time. Lea hesitates more and more. But... It’s different for the hunter - at the stronghold, there’s always someone passing through they can slip away with, and there’s no one there to ask questions or judge them for it. Lea can’t do that. Or maybe they just won’t.

At least this way, the hunter is the only one passing judgment. Lea already knows what they think of them.

And yet… And yet.

Lea glances across the room at Sabe again, still at the bar, still waiting expectantly. Lea knows they’ll regret not going over there, as pathetic as it sounds. They glance back over at the hunter. Lea knows they’ll regret going over there, too - as pathetic as it sounds.

Lea clears their throat then, pressing their elbows to the table, leaning towards their partner.

They look up from their glass and just raise an eyebrow at them.

“You alright if I head up?” Lea says carefully. A question. Or is it an offer? Lea’s not sure, either - they always ask, in some roundabout way. As if the hunter would ever tell them no. Sometimes Lea wishes they would. They have to look away for a moment, glancing sideways, resisting the urge to fidget with their ring. When they don’t respond right away, Lea forces themself to look back.

Their eyebrow rises even higher, and Lea can see their mouth twitch - a smirk, or a scowl, Lea can’t tell.

“Yeah. ‘S fine,” they say slowly, crossing their arms and ducking into their hood.

Lea glances sideways again, a shameful heat creeping over them.

“You going to stay down here?”

The hunter just nods.

“You’ll be alright by yourself?” Lea can’t help but ask. But that’s not really what they’re asking, not in their roundabout way.

“I’ll be fine,” the hunter snaps, giving Lea their answer.

They purse their lips, twisting their ring around their thumb, before nodding. It’s not the answer they wanted.

“Good work, today,” Lea starts then, because they have to say something else. They have to. Any excuse to stay at the table with them a little while longer. To give the hunter another chance to give them the right answer.

But the hunter just rolls their eyes at them.

Lea scoffs, tapping restlessly against the table, glancing across the room. Sabe is still waiting. Would the hunter wait for them, too?

“I mean it,” Lea presses. Desperate.

“Just go, Lea,” the hunter sighs then, and Lea relents.

“Yeah. Don’t stay up too late,” Lea stupidly blurts, before bolting out of the booth, unable to stand it for another second longer.

Lea lets out a string of swears as they make their way across the parlor - what the fuck was that?

“Gods damn you,” they curse, resisting the urge to look back at the table. “You idiot. Gods damn you.”

They shake their head and collect themself for a moment, running a hand over their hair and taking a deep breath as they step up to the bar.

“Lea!” Sabe slides up next to them, smiling warmly, thankfully oblivious to any of their irritation.

“Hey, Sabe,” Lea says, leaning towards her to be heard over the din of the bar. Sabe is quite delighted by the closeness, reaching out to put a hand on Lea’s arm, blinking up at them expectantly. The touch soothes some of Lea’s nerves, brings them back into the room. Distracts them, from the golden eyes burning at their back.

“Sabe…” Lea trails off a moment, their jaw clenching despite themself. They lean even closer, pressing their lips to her ear.

“Sabe, let’s go upstairs,” they say, and it gets the reaction they hoped for - her hand tightening around their arm, her face flushing pink as she turns her head, licking her lips as she leans into them.

“You’re not even going to ask me to dance, Handler Chen?” she says then, mock indignation wavering as she fails to suppress her little nervous smile. Cute.

“Is that what you want?” Lea says, tilting their head at her, returning her smile with their own. Lea’s not exactly in a dancing mood - and there’s no point in acting like this is anything more than what it is.

“No…” she says softly, glancing sideways, blushing even deeper now, her hand still on Lea’s arm.

“Will they…” she starts suddenly, and it’s like a slap to the face, Lea going rigid against the bar as Sabe stares past them, across the parlor. “Will they be alright, all alone?”

“They’ll be fine,” Lea says brusquely. Sabe does notice that. Lea clears their throat, shaking their head. “They’re alright. They rather like all the attention,” Lea adds dryly.

That gets a laugh out of Sabe, and Lea laughs a little too, glancing down at their hands.

“Okay,” Sabe says after a few moments. “I want to go upstairs.”

She reaches for their hand then, and Lea lets her take it, lets her lead them a few steps from the bar before they lead her to the stairs.

Her hand is warm and soft and clammy, her steps quiet behind them as they ascend the stairs, single file, reaching the terrace and Lea hesitates, even as Sabe walks by, a gentle pull on their arm as she says their name. Lea glances down into the parlor, finding those familiar golden eyes watching them. They look away just as quick, hiding in that godsdamn fucking hood.

Lea turns away, catching up with Sabe, and they’ve hardly passed into the dim tavern corridor before they take her face in their hands and kiss her, pressing her against the door as she slips her hands beneath their shirt. The taste, the touch - it’s enough to forget the familiar golden eyes. For a little while.

#intricate rituals and all that #the cw makes it sound more intense than it is i think but i don't want to blindside anyone #i always like doing these with lea cus they're the one with the most going on in their head at all times #and it's interesting to see especially with the hunter how they're perceived versus what they're thinking and trying to say #honestly this doesn't even have to only be for romantic hunter/lea i imagine this is something that could have happened #at least once as two lonely people stuck together... maybe the jealousy/desire passed for some but not for others #lea chen #the hunter #nsft #snippets

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