#HANDSOMEST LITTLE GUY EVER

[rabbithaver]

nobody told me Nutcracker Silver was a thing LOOK AT HIM HES THE CUTEST FUCKING THING IVE EVER SEEN IN MY GODDAMN LIFE

[littlelightfish]

Today's Holm

[yopossum]

The Laredo Javi gifs made me do this. I was powerless against them.

Main Masterlist

The Secret Place

Pairing: Javier Peña x best friend f!reader

Rating/Warnings: E - 18+ only! Post S3 Javi, Laredo, no age gap, friends to lovers to no contact to friends and lovers like no time ever passed, filthy fluffy smut, Chucho being the best and also a troublemaker, brief mentions of narcos and sex workers (Javi uses the word whores, paraphrasing the people who bother him about Colombia), drinking questionable whiskey, oral (f and a tiny bit of m receiving), boob in mouth action, PIV with a condom *and* on the pill good job guys, sex in an old treehouse probably not a great idea irl. Reader is described as having dark, prominent nipples and genitalia, grown out black pubic hair, heavy hanging breasts, thick dimpled thighs and a fleshy waist and belly. Her hair (on her head) is not described, nor is her skin tone (she does not blush or redden). Both Javi and reader speak Spanish, which is in italics.

———————————————————————————

“Javier Peña. Long time. Back for good?” You reached out for a friendly handshake.

“Nah, for evil.” He winked, holding your hand in his a little more firmly, a little bit longer than he would anybody else’s. You acknowledged it with a fond squeeze, undetectable to curious eyes.

“Sounds about right. Catching up with everybody?”

“Trying to avoid it.”

You laughed, hand on your hip. “No surprise there either. Well, I just came over to your table to ask the handsomest man at the wedding for a dance.” You smirked.

“I’m not sure that’s me, cariño,” Javi said, eyebrow quirked and jaw tensing skeptically.

“Never said it was, Javi. I was talking about Chucho.” It was your turn to wink.

He huffed out his nostrils and shook his head with a smile as you turned to his father with outstretched arms, yelling, “Take me for a spin, viejo! Let’s remind your boy where he got all those smooth moves.”

“He won’t know what hit him, mija,” Chucho laughed, standing to take your hands. “Watch my beer, Javier.”

“You got it, Pop.” He nodded at the older man, whose eyes were crinkled shut in laughter at the way you twirled onto the dance floor and beckoned to him. Javier nursed his own drink, dark eyes following you under heavy lids as you and Chucho spun around the floor.

After several songs, Chucho bowed out, making his way back to the table, and Javi lost track of you.

“You’ve still got it,” he murmured to his father around the lip of his beer bottle.

“Damn right!” he crowed. He took a long sip of his beer, looking out at the wedding reception, and sighed. “Listen, I know it’s been a long time, but—”

“—Pop, don’t.” Javier cut him off, shooting him a stern look.

Chucho raised his palm. “Let me finish, son. You know it was always her. I know it was always her. Hell, all of Laredo knows it was always her.” He stared intently at Javi’s face. “Folks weren’t as surprised as they acted when things went sideways with Lorraine. Doubt Lorraine was.”

“Yeah.” Javi looked at the table, ran his thumb along the label of the bottle, the condensation on the glass making the paper ball up and peel as he rubbed over it. “Everyone knew. I was an idiot, fucked it up.” He swallowed the dregs of his beer and stared through the empty brown glass, his own frowning distorted reflection wobbling back at him.

“You got that right,” Chucho chuckled, running a weathered hand along the brim of his white cowboy hat. “Was saying, mijo, it’s been years. Don’t you think you’ve punished yourself long enough?”

Javi scrubbed his hands down his face, careful not to muss his hair and ruin any of the photographs, incur the wrath of a coven of tías like he had at Danny’s wedding. “The shit I’ve done? A life sentence wouldn’t scratch the surface, Dad. Things change, life goes on. Looks like your dance partner left, anyway.”

“She sure did, pendejo!” Chucho laughed from deep in his belly. “Why the hell d’you think I’m talking to you about it now? Our girl fue al lugar secreto, she told me to tell you.”

Javi’s guts stuttered, and he tried to school his features into a convincingly stoic look. “The secret place, huh? Not sure I even remember where that was.” His eyes were pulled to the clock on the wall. 9:40.

“No manches, Javier. You know exactly where it is.” Javier avoided his gaze. Of course he knew exactly where it was.

Chucho turned to chat with a relative while Javi rolled his empty bottle on the tablecloth. Several songs played through, the party still boisterous. From across the dance floor, Javi locked eyes with Lorraine, who smiled brightly. She waved, and Javi groaned, feeling obligated to stand and cross to his ex would-have-been wife.

“Lorraine.”

“Javier. You look good.”

“Thanks. You too.”

“Oh gosh, you think so?” Lorraine tucked a lock of loose blonde hair behind her ear and flushed. “The kids make me feel so haggard sometimes. They sure keep me busy!”

Javier gave a half smile. “Sounds like it. I’m glad you, uh, got the life you wanted. I’m sorry, for… all of it.” He pursed his lips and glanced at the clock again. 9:57.

“Yeah, I know,” she nodded. “I forgave you a long time ago, Javi. Lord knows I wasn’t entirely innocent. And now I have Randy; I have the kids. It would’ve been wrong, the two of us.”

“Definitely,” Javi snorted, dimple deepening in his cheek. “Well, just… thought I’d say… something. You really do look good, Lorraine. I’m glad life’s treating you well.”

Lorraine smiled soft and a little bit sad. “Thank you. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Javi gave her a tilt of his chin in farewell as a blur of a child crashed into Lorraine’s legs before striding back to his table.

“Taking a piss, Pop,” he muttered to Chucho, who was still deep in conversation with whichever cousin. He clapped a hand to his father’s shoulder.

“Sure you are, son,” he replied, patting his son’s hand without looking back at him. “Dile que I owe her another dance. See you in the morning. I’m cooking breakfast.”

Javier rolled his eyes and bit back a reply, just squeezed gently and made his way out of the reception hall into the night. 10:10.

———

“Took you long enough, Peña.”

“Mierda. How the hell did we used to do this every day?” Javi grunted, swinging precariously on the old knotted rope as he clambered into the treehouse.

“For starters, we weren’t fucking old,” you laughed, taking a drag of your cigarette. You offered it to Javi as he pulled the last of his body through the hole in the floor and flipped the hatch shut, sending the hanging lantern swinging.

“Nah. Tryin’ the gum thing.” He flopped onto the wooden floorboards and tried to find a comfortable way to angle his wide frame in the small space. Their lugar secreto.

“¡No mames!”

“En serio.”

You spit on the floor and stubbed the cigarette into it. “Well shit. Good for you, Jav. Must’ve taken a lot of willpower — I don’t imagine you have any less need for vices now.” You grinned at him.

“Yeah, no fucking kidding,” he sighed. His fingers tapped on the ground, antsy.

“You’ve always been a stubborn asshole, though, so if anyone could do it, it’d be you,” you said with a cackle.

“Vete a la chingada,” Javier grumbled warmly.

“Quite the mouth you’ve got on you, Javi,” you tutted, turning to sit with your back against the opposite treehouse wall and stretching your legs out parallel to his.

“You know better than most how true that is,” he said, eyebrow quirking suggestively.

“Sucio,” you chided. “Glad to see some things haven’t changed.”

Javi smirked, sat silent. He let his head tip back against the wall, looked up at the stars through the open hole in the roof of the old treehouse. The wood there had rotted through years before the two of you found the place, when your necks and shoulders had ached from sunburns and monkey bars instead of tension and grief. Back then, before Laredo was haunted, you’d climbed up here and patched each other’s hurts with bandaids, hugs, shitty liquor, and eventually, after some years, soft touches, kisses, hot skin sticky and desperate against hot skin.

“You’re not gonna ask me about Colombia?” he said eventually, leveling his eyes back at you.

You shrugged. “Do you want to talk about Colombia?” you asked.

“No.”

“I figured as much. No, I’m not going to ask you about Colombia.” The treehouse was silent again.

“I came home, few years ago. Went back.” Javi said, eventually.

You hummed thoughtfully. “Why?”

He cracked his knuckles. “Got in some shit. DEA told me to leave. Then they asked me to come back. So I did.”

“You done now?” you asked simply.

“Yeah.”

“Feel like a hero?”

Javi gritted his teeth. “Feel like a piece of shit, usually.” He clenched his hands into fists, released them, repeated the action without looking up from the toes of his boots alongside your knees.

“Well, hey, at least you don’t look it,” you offered, and Javi couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re much better looking than you were in the 70s, even if your clothes haven’t changed.”

“Fuck you,” he snorted. “You didn’t seem to have any complaints back then.”

You scrunched your nose at him and stuck your tongue out. “I didn’t know any better back then. You’re not the only one who expanded their horizons, Peña.”

The smile slid from his face and he bit at his lip, a sneer creeping into his expression. “You too with the brothel shit, huh? Christ. All anybody fucking wants to talk about, what narcos I shot and what whores I fucked.”

“Did I say any of that, Javi? Jesus. Don’t try to pick a fight with me, it won’t work. I’m glad you were fucking around down there. I’m sure it was hell. Sounds like burying your traumas in warm pussy helped bring you back alive. I’m grateful for that.” You looked at him plainly, like it was the most obvious reaction in the world for you to have, like his confusion at your response was the strange thing.

“Besides,” you added, “I’m sure you treated them well. I know better than most, right?” You waggled your eyebrows at him and his frustration and surprise melted away, dripped out of his mind.

“So, I was memorable?”

“Stop fishing for compliments.” You whacked one of his boots with the back of your hand, and he tipped it back toward you, pushing at the hem of your skirt with his toe.

“You were memorable,” he said quietly.

When you glanced at him, moonlight brightening the piloncillo brown of his eyes, his expression was softer, less closed off. Echoes of a younger Javier, your playmate and closest friend and confidant and co-conspirator and lover, here in your secret space like he’d never left, never grown out of Laredo, never been hardened by the cruelties of the world.

Your Javi.

“So you definitely remember what we used to get up to in here, then?” you teased, reaching for a lidded crate shoved into the corner and pulling out an ancient bottle of whiskey.

Javi’s mustache twisted up at the corner. “I remember you were a handsy drunk,” he said, grabbing the bottle and twisting off the lid, taking a slow pull from the mouth of it and wincing. “God, this is awful.”

You laughed and took the bottle back from him, taking a sip of your own. “Beggars couldn’t be choosers! We didn’t have many options for sneaking liquor.” The whiskey warmth flowed through your body like bitter sunshine. “And handsy, hm? I don’t think I was usually the one to start anything.”

Javi pawed at the bottle, downing another gulp, and you watched his Adam’s apple slide down his taut, tanned throat. “Hm, maybe not,” he mused, rocking his jaw to the side and letting his eyes rake down your body. “But I always made sure you finished,” he grunted.

You grabbed the whiskey for a final slug and capped it, sliding it back against the wall before pressing yourself up to your knees. “Is that a habit you’re still holding onto, Peña?”

You leaned forward and placed your palms flat on the ground, crawling, partly seductively and partly pragmatically because you couldn’t stand upright in the treehouse, along the length of Javi’s legs. You knelt immediately next to him and reached out to smooth the red and blue plaid collar of his flannel, then cupped a hand to his cheek.

Instinctively, Javi turned into your touch, letting his eyes close for a second and giving a gentle kiss to the meat of your thumb. He looked back to you and let his face rest in the cradle of your palm.

“Still holding onto it. Held on to everything that had anything to do with you.” He worried at his plump lower lip with his teeth, then tongued at the plush cleft there.

You swung one leg over his lap and sat in a straddle across the tops of his thighs, denim of his jeans scratching against the bared skin under your dress.

“Should’ve held on to me, Jav.”

Javi placed his hands at the flare of your hips, splaying his wide thick fingers to knead at the flesh there, more plentiful and pliant than the last time he’d touched there. Where the world had made him rough, shattered, sharp, you’d been tumbled like sea glass. Smoother, softer, light shining right through you, spilling onto him.

“I should’ve.”

“I could’ve held tighter too.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

“You’re right.”

“That’s a first.”

You both snickered, and you let your body rest against Javi’s chest. He threaded his arms around your waist and pulled you tight to him, pressing the bridge of his nose into the shelf of your collarbone to inhale deeply.

“It was always you. You know that, right?” he breathed against your skin.

“I do. I knew then, I know now. Things happened how they happened. It’s been a long time.” You spoke the words into the dark waves of his hair, tickling at your mouth and chin.

Javi’s voice was smaller than it had been, more hesitant. “Do you think…” He paused for a beat. “Do you think it’s been too long? Or, not long enough?”

“I don’t know. Me vale, Javier. I don’t give a shit. ¿Sabes?” You ran a finger in a small circle around the top button of his shirt.

“I don’t know if I do,” he answered honestly. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he scooted you just an inch or two further up to the apex of his thighs.

“I think it’s a series of miracles that you’re here and I’m here and we can still manage to squeeze our ancient asses into this treehouse,” you said frankly. “I don’t need to figure anything else out right now. Tonight? It’s enough for me to know we’re both still here, that this is still here.” And when you said this, Javi knew you didn’t mean the treehouse, but the real lugar secreto, the secret place that lived inside you both, where neither of you had ever let go of the other.

“Lie back against the wall, cariño,” Javi ordered in a soft, even husk.

You climbed off his lap and crawled back to the place you’d been sitting before, legs out in front of you.

“Knees up,” he rasped. You obeyed, skirt of your dress slipping down your raised thighs to pool at your waist. “Let them fall open nice and easy for me, baby. Just like that,” he murmured, coming up onto all fours and rubbing a thumb on your ankle bone as you let your knees drop outward.

Javi failed to bite back the moan that fell from his mouth as you spread before him, only a slip of your black thong visible as the thin wet gusset nestled into your sex, dark lips and an Eden of black curls devouring the fabric. He, too, wished to be devoured.

He reached his hands up under your ass, hooking his fingers into the floss of your underwear and peeling them from your center, wiggling them down your legs and tossing them aside. Javi carefully lowered himself to his belly, flat across the floor, his body longer than he used to be so his knees were bent and his feet rested against the opposite wall. He looked up with wide, curious eyes, asking silently for permission.

“It was always you, Jav. Still is.” You carded your fingers through his thick hair and he growled.

Javi slid his hands along your thick thighs, trying to memorize the feel of every new dimple and stretch mark on the once-familiar canvas. When he reached the end of your legs, that divine join, he used the breadth of his shoulders to press your knees even further apart, sliding his forearms under your legs to grip around your hips.

Your folds pulled open languidly as your legs spread, stretching glossy strings across your entrance, the long dark sticky swollen petals of you blooming like something rare and tropical, heady and intoxicating. Javi nudged forward, nose brushing through the course hairs as he nuzzled its strong curve against you, dragging it in a lazy back and forth over your clit. Your pussy fluttered and you drew in a sharp breath through your nose.

“Looks like she remembers me too,” Javi chuckled darkly.

He pressed sloppy open-mouthed kisses to the creases of your thighs, over your puffy mound, running up and down along the seam of you, puffing hot wet air over your asshole to see it clench and quiver.

“She wants you to stop teasing,” you whined, but your complaint was cut short with a gasp when you felt a broad lick along your slit, Javi sliding the flat of his tongue through you and flicking at your clit with its pointed tip.

Your legs fought to fold closed on Javi’s head, but his arms kept them pinned open, on display for him, bisected and dripping. He ran his tongue over and around every fold, prodding and sucking and nibbling, stretching you gently with his teeth and slotting his lips with yours in an intimate, hungry kiss.

His tongue moved through you instinctually, patiently, reverently. A disciple, attending to the temple of his deity. Javier Peña did not believe in God. He believed in worship.

Javi slid one thick finger, then another, through your shining slick, swirled them at your clit before pressing them inside of you up to the knuckles. He relished the groan that clawed out of your throat, the clench of you around his digits, as he pumped them in and out, fingertips dancing on the spongy spot that made you writhe for him. He watched your face, lips parted and panting, brow glistening, both exactly as he’d remembered you and more perfect and beautiful than you’d ever been before this moment. And you’d always been perfect and beautiful.

He dropped his face again to suck the bead of your clit between his soft lips, alternating slurping around the hood with laves of his tongue as he continued to thrust and curl his hand inside you. The obscene thick wet sounds of your pleasure wove with mingled moans and soft gasps. Javi felt, sensed, the small escalations in your as they built on each other — the flickering tense of your leg muscles, the tightening of your stomach, your affrettando breathing. He increased his efforts, dribbling a stream of spit onto you, into you as he stuffed his fingers into your pulsing cunt over and over again.

“Oh, oh, Javi. Fuck, Javi. I’m…” Your legs began to shake, some overwhelming and impossible pressure building deep inside you. Javi didn’t slow, just lavished prayers into your pussy and ground his hips against the old creaking floorboards.

“I know, baby, I know,” he chanted over you, “I’m here, baby, it’s me, I’ve got you.”

Your fingers were thrust into his hair and twisted around the soft dark strands, and you tugged, pulling a guttural roar from Javier’s chest. “Dámelo, mi vida,” he snarled. You felt the irresistible urge to bear down on Javi’s hand, walls seizing up around his fingers until that delicious pressure burst. You arched and shrieked as a dizzying pulsing gush erupted from your cunt, cascading over the man between your thighs as he groaned, swallowed and suckled desperately as he rutted into the floor. The sensation continued to crash over you, waves smashing against a cliff without end. Your vision was flashing, teeth chattering violently as you keened and bucked at the overstimulation. Javi withdrew his fingers from your channel and slid them around your clit, using your release to slip rapid circles around the swollen pearl until the world around you exploded, a razor sharp orgasm ripping through you on top of a final wave of warmth that poured out from your wrenched body.

Javier looked up through long lashes, his pupils blown and lips swollen and red. He was dripping with you, drenched and devoted, as though he’d been dunked in a baptismal font.

You gestured faintly at him, not able to move your hands beyond a small wave up your body. Javi got the message, clambered up over you and let you throw your sagging arms around his neck so he could roll with you onto his back and drape you over him. You melted against his chest, still panting, and he ran his hand over your shoulders, down your spine, over the curve of your ass. His cock throbbed against the zipper of his jeans, straining painfully in the tight denim, but he tried his best to ignore it. To just hold on to you.

“I think I owe your informants a thank you card,” you wheezed finally, breath slowing closer to its normal pace. Javi snorted into your crown, kissed your forehead at your hairline.

“Quite the mouth, huh?” he teased softly, and you pinched at his waist through his shirt with a chuckle. “Mierda. That was…” Javi trailed off, running a hand through his sweat-curled hair.

“Yeah. It was,” you agreed, neither of you needing to finish the sentence. You reached up to touch his face, the deep furrows that creased his skin there smoother and shallower now. “So. Mi vida, huh Peña?” You smirked up at him.

Javi’s cheeks pinked and he bit at the inside of his mouth, bashful as if he hadn’t bathed in you minutes before. “Too much?”

“Nah, I liked it. Did you mean it?”

Javi paused before answering, looking down at you almost meekly. “If I did?”

You smiled against him. “Then I like it even more. Kind of how it’s always been here, right? How it’s always been for us.”

He smiled back with relief. “Yeah,” he huffed out. “Yeah, it has been. Could still be, maybe? It feels like… like we… fuck. It feels like this is the first time in a long time I’m where I belong. Here, with you.”

“Between my legs?” you said with a laugh playing at your eyes.

“Sí, yes, Christ, forever.” Javi groaned again, licked the taste of you from around his lips, nostrils flaring when his dick twitched insistently. You clocked it.

“Enjoyed yourself, guapo? Need some attention?” You rolled your hips slightly, pleased when Javi sucked in a breath through his teeth and shivered.

“Are you… can you…” he stuttered out, and you shushed him with a finger to his lips, which he kissed.

“Can I stand? No,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “But I want to stay right here in your lap and let you fuck me, Jav. Te quiero.”

Javi sat bolt upright, holding on to your body as he scooted to the wall and leaned back against it. “We’re gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow. Fucking in the treehouse.”

“We don’t have to,” you offered breezily, teasing. “If it’s too much for you in your old age.”

“Don’t you dare. Pinche chiflada. Yes, we fucking do,” Javi objected immediately. “Besides,” he jabbed with a pointed finger, “we’re the same age.”

You laughed at his urgency. “Ahí está. ‘Atta boy, Peña. You’re overdressed, in that case.” You moved to unbutton his flannel, revealing more of his smooth, freckled chest. “This is a nice shirt, by the way. You looked handsome as hell tonight.” You undid the last button and slid his shirt off his shoulders, running your hands over the firm rounds of his muscles.

“Not the handsomest, though?” he smiled, leaning forward to nip at your collarbone.

“Nope, sorry. That’s always gonna be your pops,” you said with a shrug.

“Pendeja,” Javi muttered. “Can we stop talking about my dad right now, please?” He fumbled at your dress clumsily. “This needs to go.” You guided his hands to the buttons that ran down the back and chuckled against his ear as his fingers flew over the closures and he yanked the thin cotton up over your head and discarding it to the side.

“Fuck, querida. These tits…” Javier lunged toward your chest, starved, pulling one brown nipple into his mouth and moaning around it while he palmed the weight of your other breast in his hand, lifting and squeezing. You tipped your head back as he swirled his hot tongue around and over, coaxing you to a peak, then pulled off with a slurping pop. “Gorgeous. Even better than I remember,” he groaned, wiping spit from the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

You wriggled your naked body back on Javi’s legs, eliciting a whine of protest before he realized your hands were deftly unfastening his belt. He reached down to assist and you swatted him away with a laugh. “Let me have my fun, huh?” you chided, slipping your finger through a belt loop and giving his jeans a firm tug before undoing the button at his waist. You smirked at the thatch of hair peeking out from the fly. “No chones? Hussy!”

Javi’s dimple deepened, his lip curling. “Always prepared, baby.”

You shook your head. “You’re still a menace, Peña. Pero, speaking of prepared, I’m on the pill, but…”

Javier cut you off. “Tranquila. Wallet.” You reached into his bulging front pocket and slid out the weathered leather, opening it and fishing through until you felt the telltale foil square.

“Thank god. I’m sure we have some stashed up here still but I don’t know I’d trust them to hold up,” you huffed with a smile, and sat back on your heels in front of him. With practiced ease, you tore open the packet, wiggling it at the man in front of you. “Now you can take your pants off.”

Javi didn’t break his gaze, just lifted his hips and slid his tight jeans down his thighs. You pulled his boots off for him, one at a time, then yanked his pants the rest of the way down his calves and over his feet, socks coming with them. You hurled them into the corner and let your eyes rest on Javier’s nude form. He brought one fist to his base and gave himself a few slow tugs, watching you watching him.

You crawled your way up over his body and relished the way his thick cock bobbed in anticipation, the way Javi’s stomach muscles quivered under your hungry stare. Glancing down at the blushing tip of him, you couldn’t resist when you saw the gleam of precome beading at his slit, and you dipped down to taste him, his distinct salt and musk making you dizzy with want. Javi’s hips bucked wildly at the unexpected touch of your tongue. You flicked your tongue over his frenulum, licked down his shaft to the seam of his balls, and back up along a delicious pulsing vein before taking his fat head into your mouth, giving a firm, but brief, suck.

Javi gasped, biting back a moan and sucking air in through his nose with a shiver. “Can’t… do… that…” he managed, his voice graveled and tight. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger to and pulled your head up level with his. “Need you too bad. Need to be inside you, cariño. Now.”

You pulled the condom from the foil and pinched the tip, then unrolled it down Javier’s throbbing length til the ring was snug around his base. His eyes didn’t leave your hands until you finished, and you reached up to his shoulders and eased yourself to straddle across his strong thighs, his latex-covered cock wedged between your stomachs. He was breathing heavily, sweat starting to pool at the dip of his throat. He brought both hands to the sides of your face, hooking his thumbs under your jaw, and looked into you with his big dark glassy eyes. They reminded you of the night sky that shone through that hole in the roof, the way if you let your vision unfocus it felt like you could see the deep blacks and browns reveal themselves to be layers and layers and layers of stars. You felt like you could see on forever, see the whole universe.

Javi brought your forehead to his, his nose pressed next to yours, and gently rolled his hips into you, the slight friction reawakening your still-sensitive clit and releasing a fresh stream of slick. You lifted up and brought your hips forward, bringing one hand from his shoulder to grasp him firmly and slide him through your folds before angling him at your entrance. Faces still flush together, breathing each other's air, you let yourself sink down onto him, both exhaling soft whimpers of pleasure as you stretched around his girth until you were fully seated in his lap, your channel squeezing around him greedily.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined. “Oh Jav, oh fuck. I missed this. I missed you.” You let your face drop to his neck, dangled yourself from his broad shoulders, and ground your hips in slow circles against his belly. Javi dropped his hands from your face and grabbed onto your sides, guiding your movements and digging his fingers into your skin, like he needed to be sure you were really there, needed to mash into your flesh and bone to know you weren’t an apparition, not some whiskey-conjured ghost in his empty apartment in Bogotá.

He let his head fall back, giving you space to lick and kiss at his neck while you rode him lazily. “You feel so good, baby. Christ,” he rumbled, words crawling out from deep in his throat. You pressed your open mouth to his collarbone, dragging your warm wet lips over the slice of it, sighed deeply. Javi could feel your legs shaking as they bracketed his own, fatigued from your earlier pleasure, and he slowed you to a stop before lifting you from his cock.

“Acuéstate,” he whispered, grabbing his forgotten flannel with one hand and fluttering it over the floor before turning you in his arms, nudging you onto all fours facing away from him and encouraging your cheek and forearms to rest on the brushed cotton.

“Mm,” you hummed sweetly, closing your eyes and wiggling your hips invitingly. Javi had to squeeze himself tight at the root, tried not to lose his mind when you presented your glistening pussy, swollen and stretched and desperate for him. “Need you, Javi.”

He sat up on his knees and pushed into your fluttering hole with a single thrust, crushing into the ring of your cervix and forcing a sob from your throat.

“¿Estás bien?” he panted, quaking with restraint as he held himself flush to your ass, letting you catch your breath.

“Oh fuck, yes. Cojeme duro, Javi,” you rasped beneath him.

He wasted no time. Javi withdrew quickly and slammed back into you, a deep wail spilling from your open mouth. He set a breathless pace, one hand clenched around your hip and the other spread possessively over the base of your spine. The brutal snap of his hips would’ve driven you forward across the floor if he hadn’t been holding you in place with such bruising force. His heavy balls swung and slapped against your bare skin with every thrust, and you could feel his sweat puddling at the sway of your lower back as it ran from his face and chest. The air was thick with the lewd squelching sounds of your bodies smashing together and the chorus of your breathy, rattling prayers and curses and cries.

Javi’s hips began to stutter, and he tensed his thighs and ass to try to control his thrusts. “Not gonna last. Need you to come, querida. Give me another, come on my fucking cock. Please, baby,” he rambled, an edge of desperation tinting his words. He slid a hand between your legs, bringing the rough pad of his finger to your clit to press and swirl frantically as he pounded into you. He could feel when you clenched around him, so strong he could hardly stay upright. When Javi hunched over you and pressed a hot, panting kiss between your shoulder blades, you broke apart with a hoarse scream. A burning climax crashed through you, your body going rigid with electricity, the overwhelming squeeze of your cunt ripping a howl from Javi as he came so hard his vision went white. He spurted with staggering jolts, thrusting weakly until your body went limp in his hold.

As the last of his seed dribbled out, Javier lowered you both gently to the floor, curling around your body as he pinched at the bottom of the condom and slipped his spent, softening cock from your clutch. He tied it off, set it aside, and laid back down to wrap around you again. You wriggled back into him and he tucked his arm into the plush fold of your waist, hand splayed over your panza and fingers tickling softly, no sounds but the breeze of your breaths and the thrum of your heartbeats in your ears. Eventually, you rolled over to face him, wincing as you turned.

“Won’t even have to wait until tomorrow to be sore,” you griped, rubbing at your neck. Javi reached out and covered your hand with his, dwarfing it, and massaged the knot that had started to form there with a firm thumb. You melted under his touch. “No regrets though,” you added with a reassuring snicker.

“Good,” he smirked, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Probably should put some clothes on before I get a splinter in my dick, though.” You snorted and nodded, sitting up to let him extricate himself and re-dress. Javi pulled his jeans up, not bothering to button them, and shoved his arms back into his shirt, leaving it hanging open. You scooped up your dress and pulled it over your head, your underwear nowhere to be seen. Javi sat back down against the wall and stretched one long leg out in front of him, bending the other at the knee. “Come here,” he said, his words lazy and syrupy.

You walked on your knees to the vee of his legs and turned to sit between them, letting your back rest against Javi’s warm, wide chest. He hooked his chin over your shoulder and nuzzled at the base of your ear with the tip of his nose, looped his arms around your ribs and squeezed you tight to him.

“My dad said to tell you he owes you a dance,” he muttered, dragging his teeth lightly over your trapezius muscle, his mustache ticklish against your overstimulated body.

“Ha! I knew it,” you said with a clap.

“Knew what?” Javi sucked at the thin skin at the base of your throat, just enough to make a small bruise begin to blossom there.

“We had a bet about you.”

He stopped peppering your neck with affections to look at you curiously. “A bet? What kind of bet?”

You cackled. “When I told him to tell you to meet me here, Chucho said you’d come running after me right away. I said you’d try to play it cool, sulk for a while, then when you got too desperate you’d tell him you needed to take a leak and disappear. If he was right, I’d buy him a six-pack. If I was right, he had to take me dancing.”

“Shit,” Javier chuckled under his breath. “That’s… yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I did,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re predictable, cabrón, what can I say?”

“I did talk, a little bit.”

“To Lorraine?”

“Damn,” he laughed. “How’d you know?”

You grinned and turned your face to rub your cheek against his skin, closing your eyes. “Like I said, predictable. Did you brawl?”

Javi hummed thoughtfully. “I apologized. So did she. It was… fine. It’s okay between us, I think.”

“That’s good,” you murmured, not moving from where you were snuggled into him.

He took a few deep breaths, and you waited patiently for him to say whatever it was he needed to work up to. He pressed his face to your shoulder again and kissed it softly. “I owe you an apology, too,” he exhaled against your skin.

You turned to look at him, to cup his face in your hand. “You don’t, Jav. You don’t need to apologize to me.”

His mouth began to move in protest. “I should’ve—“

“Basta.” You pressed a finger to his lips to still them, shaking it at him admonishingly when he tried to nip at it. “No should’ves, none of that. Everything brought us back here, right?”

Javier ticked his jaw, licked at his lip thoughtfully, before conceding with a half nod. “Nuestro lugar secreto survives,” he said with a soft smile.

“It does,” you agreed, running your thumb soothingly along the lines of his face, over the two creases permanently etched between his eyebrows. “You were gone, but you were still here, you know?”

“I thought about you. All the time.” His voice was quiet, somber.

“I know,” you grinned.

Javi huffed and snorted. “Oh, you already knew that, huh? How so?” he teased, pinching at the underside of your arm.

You squirmed away from his fingers, giggling. “You’re too predictable, ¿recuerdas?”

He sighed dramatically, quickly gave up his game in favor of hugging you close again. “I think you just knew me too well. Still do.”

“I know because I thought about you all the time, too,” you admitted, sitting back against him and tilting your head to look out the roof and up at the night. Javier did the same. “Eres mi vida también,” you said towards the sky.

“I fucked up tonight, though,” he rasped against the shell of your ear.

You stilled, raising an eyebrow in question. “¿De qué manera?”

Javi pressed a palm to your cheek and turned your face to his once more. “I didn’t kiss you yet.” You threaded your hands through the curls at the nape of his neck and pulled him to you, your mouths melding as easily as your bodies had. The kiss wasn’t heated or frantic; there were no clashing teeth and wanton cries. It was slow, soft, familiar. Two parts of a whole, slid back together where they were meant to be.

“So…” Javi breathed into your mouth between slips of tongues. “Pop is cooking a big breakfast. Want to come by the ranch?” He drew back enough for his eyes to focus on your face.

“Mm, a famous Chucho breakfast sounds great. What time should I come over?”

Javi grinned devilishly. “Right now.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest before kissing him deeply once more. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” you snarked. You both stood, joints creaking, both hunching over to avoid smacking into what remained of the ceiling. Your eyes scanned the treehouse for your missing thong while Javier pulled on his socks and boots, then fastened his clothes and tucked his wallet back in his front pocket.

“Missing something?”

You turned to answer him, seeing your underwear hanging from the tip of his index finger. He spun them around and smirked. “I’ll trade you for one of those cigarettes.”

“Keep ‘em,” you said with a wink. “We quit. We’re gonna try the gum thing.”

Javier beamed at you, sliding your panties into his back pocket. “Don’t have to tell me twice. You ready?” He lifted up the hatch.

“Mhm. But take that condom with you - there’s a trash can by the fence.” When he’d grabbed it, you flicked off the lantern, plunging the treehouse into darkness, moonlight just catching on the rough fibers of the rope below.

“Let me go down first,” Javi said, lowering himself through the hole, his boots finding a sturdy knot a few feet down, descending a short way before hopping to the dirt.

You grinned down at him from the treehouse. “You want to help me down? Tan caballeroso.” You dropped a pair of sandals to the ground and started to clamber down the rope barefoot.

“Of course, mi vida,” Javi said warmly, looking up at you with a wide, crooked smile. You’d made your way down a few knots when he added, “I’m also appreciating the view.” You shook your head and let go of the rope, jumping into Javi’s waiting arms and falling into another languid kiss before your feet found solid ground. When you bent down to grab your sandals from the dust, your skirt suddenly flew up, a hand cracking sharply over the bare flesh of your ass cheek, and you squealed, flying upright and glaring back over your shoulder.

“Shameless,” you tsked.

“Claro,” Javi shrugged, unapologetic. “But you love me.”

“Yeah,” you mused, slipping your sandals on and closing the short distance between your bodies to ruffle his hair. “I sure do. Always have.”

Javi leaned into your hand and purred, content for the first time in a very, very long time. “As long as I’ve loved you,” he said, quiet and firm. He nosed a kiss to your cheek and laced his fingers through yours. “Ready to go, mi vida?”

“Been ready for a lifetime, Peña. Take me home.” You walked hand-in-hand down the winding dirt road that led to the ranch, your path together lit, as it always had been, by a sky full of stars.

—————————————————————————

Some random taggies:

@timelordfreya @mothandpidgeon @hellfire-state-of-mind @maggiemayhemnj @beefrobeefcal @yourcoolauntie @jolapeno @whocaresstillthelouvre @schnarfer @jennaispunk @wordywarriorwrites @ameerawrites @survivingandenduring @freelancearsonist @artsy-girl-76 @goodwithcheese @javierpena-inatacvest @bluestar22x @carusolikey @beldroxramscal @tonysopranosrobe @toxicanonymity @for-a-longlongtime @luxurychristmaspudding @magpiepills @gasolinerainbowpuddles @oliveksmoked @sp00kymulderr @rebel-held

[deadghosy]

☆BEING MATTHEO’S CHILDHOOD FRIEND TO LOVER☆ male version||female version

Can I just say he’s immediately the type of guy of a childhood friend to just be close to the point he would just walk in on you showering, bathing, or even pissing without even caring?

He’s literally walking in to tell you some guy he doesn’t like when he sees that you are glaring at him while sitting down pissing.

“Get the fuck out!” You yell ready to throw a toothbrush at him. Mattheo groaned as he grabbed your wrists. You look up at him as he frowns a bit at you already dismissing him. “Dude listen! Y’know that arse that keeps making fun of you?” You start to realize mattheo’s bruised knuckles. His knuckles looked spilt as you look up from the hands that clasp your wrists. That’s where you see that devilish smile of his on his face. “He’s not gonna bother you no more baby…”

One time you took a shower and covered yourself up quickly only for mattheo to say in quote, “I’ve seen your dick before when we were kids. Calm down.” As he brushes his teeth in the morning with you. It can be exhausting.

Bromance ass cuddles when he wants them. Draco could try to tease the riddle about how “gay” he is for you. And mattheo would be like “hell yeah!” Cause mattheo don’t give no fucks. You’re his friend. His friend that he only cares about fully.

When he’s drunk, he’s crying and whining about where his best friend is at. He literally dragged a dude’s shirt, threatening him if he doesn’t say where the last time you were at the party, he’s gonna chop his dick off. Mattheo soon found you and acted calm asf. Just silently drinking with his arm around your shoulder

He’s the type to immediately text you “I see you online bitch.” When you swore to him that you were gonna go to sleep. Please he’s gonna go into your dorm room and force you to sleep.

Brings up embarrassing moments you two had, mostly your moments when taking to people. It’s just for fun!!

Protective of you, doesn’t matter if you’re older or younger. This fucker is literally 10 toes behind you in every step. Doesn’t matter if you were the cause or not. He’s backing you up real quick.

One time punched a drunk guy for trying to get close to you. He seen you from afar away with a girl dancing on him, when all he seen was you getting a drunk asshole all up on you.

You moved away a little from this guy who smelt like straight alcohol. It dosed your nose terribly as you tried to get away only for him to get closer. As he got closer, mattheo pushed the girl off him and strutted towards you. His bawling up fists and sharp breathing was clear as people in the party made way. As you turn to see your dear friend. Mattheo socked the guy’s chin. The angered and protective Slytherin was going to beat his face in, until you dragged Mattheo away. “Calm down!” You hissed at Mattheo who only breathed heavy. He was spacing out in rage. His nose scrunched up as he took heavy breaths. He seemed to snap out when you told him to calm down. “I can’t calm down when he got too close to you!” Mattheo then cupped your face, pressing both of your heads together. Your lips were pressed into a thin line as Mattheo’s eyes were still blazing with anger.

It took a while, with some cuddling from you and you saying how you felt safe. Mattheo having his arms wrapped around you, your neck being occupied by his face and head. It’s something that people would assume you two were dating. You both would deny before you two actually started dating at the end.

Mattheo was still protective of you, Mattheo a little too much but still a good amount.

He always has his hands on you. Literally touching you to make sure you stay by his side at all means.

He loves his boy, you are the most handsomest thing that ever came across his life. And now he gets to cherish you.

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol

"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"

You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.

"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.

You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.

Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.

You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.

Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.

"If not now, never, right?"

After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.

"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"

"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.

Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.

"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"

The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."

"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.

***

"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"

You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.

"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."

"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.

"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"

"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 

"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."

"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.

You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.

The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.

12:00. Carpe diem.

 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 

***

"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"

"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 

And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."

You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 

"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.

"Angel's wings." 

He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."

"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."

"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"

"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.

"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"

"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."

"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 

"Thanks," you hang your head.

"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.

"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.

"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.

"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 

"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.

You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.

The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.

***

You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.

He hums to himself. "Those are nice."

You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.

He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.

There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.

You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.

He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"

And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"

"A safeword. It's big."

W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.

"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Plaid Flannel Shirt - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: I drew a lot from my own struggles with dysphoria for this, which is why it’s a little more specific than my other fics. I hope it’s still relatable. Let me know if I missed any warnings

Written for this request

CW: clothing issues; Reader is implied to be smaller than Logan; gender euphoria mentions; clothes stealing/sharing; cuddling; Logan smokes cigars in this; Reader is called handsome several times; language; praise kink; explicit sexual content; smut; grinding; Reader’s parts are referred to as dick and hole; dirty talk; mentioned mirror sex; manhandling; mentioned multiple rounds; mentioned nudity; maybe ooc Logan

673 words

It starts and ends with a shirt. One of Logan’s, to be exact.

You’ve always had an issue with clothes. They’re too tight, or too feminine, or too expensive. It’s always something with clothes.

So when you first steal the shirt from Logan’s closet, it’s a bit of a deal. Until you put it on.

Standing there, in front of the mirror, gazing at yourself in Logan’s shirt, you look a bit silly. Silly, but not feminine.

It’s something about the drape of the shirt. The particular shadows of the fabric. Something about the shirt. But it’s perfect.

You look like a guy. You are one, you know this. But you finally look like one.

That’s how the whole shirt stealing starts.

Logan seems to find it cute. At the very least, he doesn’t stop you. In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s left his room open on multiple occasions right during the times when you stop by to steal his shirts.

Whatever his reasoning is, he seems content with what you’re doing.

So when he asks about your reason for doing it one day, you don’t think anything of it.

The two of you are cuddling in his room. Door shut, window open so he can smoke in peace. He’s on his second cigar and you’re all content and happy.

“You like wearing my shirts, huh?” He plucks at the fabric of the plaid flannel you’re wearing. It’s his, of course.

“Mhmm.” You don’t open your eyes, head resting on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, low and steady.

“Any particular reason why?”

“They make me feel good,” you mumble. “Like a man. All rugged and fierce.”

He chuckles quietly. “They make you feel like a man?”

“Mhmm.”

He hums thoughtfully. “You look good in them. Handsome and shit.”

Your face heats up. Sure, he’s complimented you before, but he’s never directly called you handsome.

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. “Say it again?”

“Say what again?” He glances down at you, taking a hit from his cigar.

“That I’m handsome.”

He studies you for a moment, then smirks. He leans closer. “You’re the handsomest goddamn man I’ve ever met.”

It goes straight to your dick, sending heat flooding throughout your body. Like a shot of pure lust.

“Again?” Your voice comes out raspy.

He chuckles and stubs out his cigar. He pulls you up, kissing you firmly on the lips as he guides you on top of him.

“My handsome. Fucking. Man.” He punctuates his words with kisses, sliding his hands down to your hips. “Thought I was dreaming when I first saw you. So sexy and fine as hell.”

You moan into his mouth, shifting to grind against his hardening cock. You’re ridiculously wet, just from his words.

He nips at your lower lip, thrusting up against you as well. “And then you, fuck, go walking around in my shirts. Making me go wild. Can’t tell you how many times I had to excuse myself ‘cause you looked so goddamn hot.”

You smother him in kisses, sliding your hands into his hair. You lick into his mouth, tracing his teeth with your tongue as you practically hump his dick. “Logan…!”

“I got you, handsome.” He groans back, rocking up into you. “Gonna fuck you so good after this. Stuff that delicious fucking hole of yours so full you can’t breathe. Maybe even do it in front of the mirror, so you can see how fucking handsome you really are.”

It’s enough to send you toppling over the edge, and oh do you cum hard. You fist your hands in his hair, crying out his name as white hot pleasure seeps into your bones.

Logan gives you one moment before pulling you up into his arms. To manhandle you into place so he can fuck you like he wants. He makes good on his promises, fucking you twice on the bed and once in front of the mirror.

The only piece of clothing you have on? His plaid flannel shirt.

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic May 1 - prompt 1: Accidental Eavesdropping [word count 487]

“Come on, Remus,” Lily nudged him with her foot. “Tell me.”

Remus opened one eye, narrowing it under the bright spring sun barely shielded by the tree they had settled under, not too far from the banks of the lake.

“Why? You hate him.”

“I don’t,” Lily waved her wand in the air. “Do I think Black is as obnoxious as Potter? Yes. Do I wish them harm? Only occasionally. Do I judge your pining after Black? Of course no, it wouldn’t be nice of me. Besides, it’s not like you actively chose to have a crush on him.”

Remus chuckled and looked at the banks of the lake, where May lay sprawled in the sun and Marlene sat with her feet in the water, quite blatantly eying Dorcas Meadowes who had left her group of Slytherin friends behind and was now swimming in lazy strokes not too far from them.

No, he definitely hadn’t chosen to fall for Sirius Black. Of course, he didn’t agree with Lily’s opinion of him or James but that was because she had never gotten to experience the fierce loyalty the both of them were capable of. Lily didn’t know about his furry little problem, as Sirius called it, and the lengths to which the Marauders had gone to help him and stand by his side. Still, she was right about him not actively choosing to have a crush on Sirius fucking Black of all people. Who in their right mind would subject themselves to endless pining after the handsomest guy in their year, always popular, always the centre of attention, always with a cohort of girls following him around.

“I don’t have a crush on Sirius,” he sighed.

“Right,” Lily rolled her eyes. “And Dumbledore has notoriously cropped hair.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Remus forced himself to look into Lily’s green eyes. “I think I’m in love with him.”

“Oh,” Lily stared back at him. “Oh, shit.”

She twirled her wand between her fingers and opened her mouth again in the same moment a loud crack came from above them. In the following second they managed to move away before a huge branch fell between them, along with a tangle of limbs and robes. Remus stared, recognising the human-shaped tangle on the grass.

“Pete said it would end up like this…” James’s voice groaned, half-muffled by Sirius’s stomach.

“Yeah, well, we never listen to him,” Sirius’s voice answered from the grass, a bit clearer.

“What the fuck, Potter?”

Lily had gotten to her feet and was glaring at them.

“Alright, Evans?” James managed to smile as he removed Sirius from his chest.

“You could’ve killed us! And you were eavesdropping on a private conversation!”

Remus felt his cheeks heat up as Sirius managed to sit up, the echo of his declaration of love still ringing in his ears.

“Come on, Evans…” James raised his hands in an appeasing motion.

“Fuck no!” Lily pointed her wand at him. “You’d better run.”

For once, James did as he was told and scrambled to his feet, ending up running along the bank with Lily on his heels.

“You arsehole!”

“It was innocent, Evans, I swear!”

“Bullshit!”

Remus grimaced at the thought of what ugly spell-induced boils he would have to remove from James’s face later on and turned away from the scene, coming face to face with a grinning Sirius, still sprawled on the ground in that annoyingly elegant way of his even if he had literally just fell out of a tree.

“So…” Sirius cocked his head. “How about Hogsmeade next weekend, just the two of us?”

Remus’s heart skipped a beat.

“You mean like… a date?” he managed to whisper.

“Yes, unless you were lying to Evans about your feelings for me.”

“I wasn’t,” Remus forced himself to say. “But I didn’t think…”

He saw Sirius’s cheeks redden, and his grin soften.

“I just didn’t think you’d ever like me this way,” he said. “I thought you’d go for someone calmer, less… chaotic. I mean, I’m always around causing some mischief or trying to get a party together.”

“Yeah, that’s probably why,” Remus smiled.

He saw Sirius hesitate then he leaned slightly forward, carefully putting his hand over his.

“So… Can I take you out on a date to Hogsmeade?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded, his heart pounding in his head. “Definitely.”

[soft-mafia]

Crushing On The Captain

warnings: fem reader, mentions of nsfw but nothing explicit

a/n: Got lazy and decided to do a bullet post again hehe

• When word got around that you had a crush on the good captain, Buggy had the ego trip of his life. It was only logical that the ladies would flock to him, right? He was the most powerful and feared pirate in the East Blue.

• He crept up behind you, putting his hand up on the wall and blocking your way.

• “So, you’re in love with me aren’t you?” He says with one of his giggles, “I mean of course you are! Aren’t I the handsomest man in the seven seas?” He cooed, sliding a hand over the top of his hat as if he were brushing his hair back.

• However, after his little ego-high had worn out, he began to question things. As he saw your naked form laying next to him sound asleep, cuddled up next to his side, he wondered. Why?

• As much as he liked to tell himself that he was good looking, the self hatred always got the better of him whenever he was alone and not surrounded by his adoring crew hyping him up as well. There were so many men out there that Y/n could have chosen, but why him? Even some of the other men on his crew were better looking…

• He starts trying to act more macho around you, an attempt to try and keep you attracted to him as the new fear of suddenly having you lose interest in him begins to fester in his mind.

• What if you saw who he really was? A crusty old man with a bulbous red nose in clown makeup, you never got to see him behind his confident speeches, or his flashy persona up until now. He didn’t want you to see behind that exterior, so he tries desperately to play that part whenever you’re with him.

• The only time he ever breaks down these walls and truly confides in you with his worries is when he drinks. He gets so drunk that the only thing coming out of his mouth are his fears.

• You walked in on him one night, slouched over his desk with a bottle gripped in his hand, his head detached from his neck and was laying on the map. When you go to pick him up and help him to bed, he sits up and wraps his arms around you, crying into your torso.

• “I’m not the man you think I am, I’m not the type of guy you need…” he sobs, his words slurred, “I’m pathetic… I’m a loser I-”

• He pauses when you shush him and hold his head in your hands, wiping away all of that smeared makeup from his under eyes with your thumbs.

• “Buggy, you’re everything that I want.” You whisper to him sweetly, trying to get through to his drunken mind, “Don’t torture yourself over this, I love you.” It’s not like you haven’t noticed Buggy trying to show himself up every time he sees you…

• Buggy wakes up with a bad hangover and doesn’t remember anything from last night, but he sees you still laying beside him, gently tracing his jawline with your fingertips in a successful attempt to relax him.

• “You don’t have anything to worry about Buggy, I’m not going anywhere.” You say to him, then kiss him on his sweaty forehead.

[hyacinthoideshispanica]

A modern Feysand au where Rhys just took over his father's company and is trying to make it his own. So, he's creating new job titles, firing people who only work there because of nepotism, and in his free time, he likes buying paintings from CursebreakerArt.com to decorate and liven the building up.

Feyre is a struggling artist who is only able to afford rent because some random guy keeps ordering from her shop and she's not complaining, but he's bought so many, and who needs that many paintings?

One day, after mailing the latest orders out, Feyre decides to walk around the city and eventually notices the help wanted flyers for Velaris Co. everywhere she looks. She's curious. She's heard of this company before, and apparently, the ceo is an absolute prick, but the pay and benefits are supposed to be fantastic. So, she takes a flyer, and after a few days of no new orders, schedules an interview.

Rhys goes through the list of the days scheduled interviews. Normally, a ceo would be too busy to conduct interviews on their own, but he wants to show he's different from his father, and he wants to know every employee as a friend, not just someone who works for him. He scans through the list, and one name suddenly catches his attention. Feyre Archeron. He knows that name. He's seen that name elegantly signed on almost every painting on this floor and has seen it scribbled on a little thank you note that comes with each order. Feyre Archeron, creator of CursebreakerArt.com, is interviewing at his company that afternoon.

Feyre walks into the interview room slowly, suddenly self-conscious about her paint stained sweater and leggings. This place was really nice and really professional. She was way in over her head to even think of trying this! She should have washed the paint out from under her nails! She should have worn a pencil skirt and blouse!

Feyre's thoughts are cut short when Rhys enters the room and then suddenly stops. Then, their just staring at each other in silence. Feyre thinks Rhys is not only the handsomest man she's ever seen but that he must also be appalled by her appearance and it was definitely a mistake to come here.

Rhys, on the other hand, was 100% prepared to gush about how much he loves her work, that is, until the moment he actually saw her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he had not been ready for that at all.

Feyre gets up, starting to apologize for wasting his time, saying she'll see herself out, but Rhys stops her with only two words. "You're perfect."

Feyre blushes fiercely, then Rhys clears his throat and begins talking to cover up what he just said.

"For the job. You're perfect for the job. You see, a lot of my employees have young children who spend the day in our care center or go there after school. I was hoping to hire some new employees, people who are passionate about something like art, cooking, or music to come in to spend time with the children during the day and teach them."

"I see... and you think I'm perfect for that job from just one look at me? Without even looking at my portfolio?"

"Ms. Archeron, off all the interviews I've conducted today, you have been the only one to dress appropriately for children and not an office. You're covered in paint, so you're clearly passionate, and I already have most of your portfolio hanging in my office or in the hallways."

[bloodchapell]

piercings are scary - armin a.

brief summary: after spending so much time with whom he considers the coolest person ever, armin gets corrupted and wants to be cool too. he gets interested in piercings

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning, mention of needles

your sword’s note: alt armin I LOVE YOU, he is getting there i promise. all past and future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

“How many piercings do you have?” He asks looking at the sky as he lays down under the tree in the middle of the campus.

“Well I have three lobe piercings in each ear, two helixes in each ear too, a septum, snake bites and a belly button one.” You count trying to cover his face with a book from the sun.

“Did they hurt too much?” He asks almost innocently and you take a glance at his pristine ears, he has nothing.

“Just a little but it’s more of a momentary burn and then you just kind of forget about them… which you shouldn’t.” You summarize. “Why?”

“Maybe I got a little envious of how the vkei guys look like and I want to be cool too…” He admits furrowing his eyebrows with seriousness to hide the embarrassment growing in him.

“That is actually so cool…” With your face a few inches away from his you say; he blushes. “I will take you literally right now.”

The bus is delayed and the store closes at five on Sundays, but somehow you guys manage to make it on time. You discuss in the bus what piercings he wants and even though he starts listing a whole bible, you stop him and tell him to settle for three; he chooses his earlobes and a vertical labret.

The tattoo and piercing parlor is for sure one of the most intimidating places Armin has been to, and being guided to the leather chair on the back feels like he is walking the stairs down to hell. He sits down and you stay at a good distance so the piercer has room to move around but it is still good for you to watch. The piercer starts marking two dots in his ears with the little blue marker and asks Armin if the placement is good, he nods hesitantly and the piercer proceeds. He seems extremely nervous and his eyes close unconsciously when the piercer takes the needle. Soon it is done, and he is paler than a sheet of paper.

“Are you okay ‘Min?” You rush to ask when the piercer says she will look for the jewelry for his lip piercing.

“I don’t know… it burns.” He says weakly and you can’t help but laugh.

“You got this, you’re almost done.” You say as the piercer comes back.

He genuinely almost faints when his lip is pierced, but alas, he now feels cooler than ever.

“Does it look good? Does it suit me?” He asks constantly on the ride back home, checking himself on the front camera of his phone while his other hand is being held by yours because he WILL faint and fall if you don’t hold him (he refused to accept holding your hand but did fall walking out of the parlor)

“You look the handsomest.” You affirm and he goes red.

[forever-rogue]

Hello! Could I request something where Eddie is Bi and he’s dating female reader and Eddie used to have a crush on Steve and reader knows and teases him about it such as in the boat where Steve takes off his shirt and throws it at him and reader knows he’s low key freaking out about it and she finds it cute how he reacts. Yk he obviously won’t cheat but he’s reminded of why he had a crush on him, that kind of thing you know?

AN | Okay but Bi!Eddie is canon to me and it would be so fun to tease him about his little crush 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Bi!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hello handsome,” Eddie practically melted when he heard your sweet voice cut through his thoughts. You walked into the back of his shop, trying not to startle him if he happened to be under a car; luckily you heard him closing a hood before you were greeted with his smile. You weaved your way over to him, all soft and smiley and sugary sweet - a complete contrast to his current environment. You held out an ice cold bottle of water to him, which he eagerly took and started to chug, “figured you could use that today.”

"You're right baby," he closed his bottle and leaned in to give you a wet, minty kiss. You grabbed the front of his coveralls and pulled closer, kissing him again, "you're killing me."

"You've been gone all day," you teased softly, playing with a chocolatey rogue curl that had escaped his bun, "can you really blame a girl for missing her man?"

"Fuck no," he scoffed, "missed you too, baby. You look pretty today."

"You think this looks pretty," you dragged your fingers along the soft fabric of your dress' strap. Eddie was a simple man at the end of the day, and seeing you in a dress sparked some sort of primal urge, "you should see what's underneath."

"You're playing dirty," he groaned, trying to control himself so he didn't get a hard on in the middle of work. He wondered if it was either pretty lingerie or nothing at all. He'd find out soon enough he hoped, "I'm going to get you back for this."

"I hope you do," you patted his chest and gave him a soft, playful little push back, "so -"

"Aha," he sighed dramatically as he often did, "you have an ulterior motive. I should have known."

"Calm down, Edward," you laughed fondly, a sound that seemed to go straight to his heart and made butterflies flutter in his tummy, "its a good thing! I was talking with Steve and Robin today and they suggested we all spend the long holiday weekend at the cabin. What do you think?"

"You've already said yes for us."

"I've already said yes for us," you confirmed sweetly, "I didn't see why not. Unless you can't handle being stuck with your little boyfriend all weekend.”

“Stopppp,” he groaned, cheeks turned a pretty shade of bubblegum pink as tried to pull up his coveralls over his warm face, “I regret ever telling you I had a crush on Steve Harrington.”

“Baby boy, I am not blind,” you pulled the dark blue fabric away from his pretty face, “I know when you’re looking and when you’re looking. I think it’s cute, Eddie. Besides, you have good taste - Steve is a handsome guy.”

“Excusez-moi?” over exaggerated, in a horrible French accent. You loved this absolute dork.

“You didn’t let me finish,” you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, “Steve is a handsome guy but you, Eddie Munson, are the handsomest and hottest man alive. My loins burn for you!”

“I…I can’t believe this is how the love of my life, my future wife, and the future mother of my children is acting,” with a hand on his chest, he hung his head and sighed deeply. Meanwhile your heart was rapidly pitter-pattering as your bones felt like jelly at the future wife and mother of my children comment. Eddie, loud and boisterous, had many times declared he was going to marry you and that you’d have all the children you wanted. But hearing it now still felt as electric as the first time. 

“I could say the same for you, future husband and father of my children,” but you were all fond smiles and soft eyes, “I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t work too hard, okay?”

“I’ll be home soon,” he reached for your hand and squeezed it gently, “wanna do Chinese for dinner?”

“Hell yeah,” you cheered excitedly, “I’ll call in and order-”

“And I’ll pick up on my way home,” he grinned.

“Excellent teamwork,” you loved him. You really, really loved him, “don’t forget - this weekend at the lake house!”

“Ugh!” 

He was still grumbling under his breath as you waved and walked out of the garage. How was he going to survive a weekend with you and Steve in bathing suits? He wasn’t going to, short and simple. 

But it would still be fun. Right? Right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 “Alright,” Steve Harrington was a natural leader. It was something he’d picked up quickly when he’d begun being everyone’s babysitter. But it was a role that suited him well and he looked so natural standing on the dock in front of the whole gang, arms outstretched as he tried to gather everyone’s attention. You were standing off the right with Eddie, hands entwined and fingers laced together. Robin was square in the middle, Nancy shyly tucked into her side; the newness of their relationship still strong. Jonathan and Argyle rounded out the group along with Chrissy Cunningham. A ragtag group of survivors that had turned to friends to found family. 

You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You knew Eddie was excited to be with everyone but you also knew that he was lowkey freaking out about Steve. Sweet, golden, wonderful Steve that was oblivious to the fact that Eddie had harbored a crush on him for several years before you came along. Steve was his best friend and his former crush, but you were the love of his life. He knew that much, and so did you. It was still just a little fun to tease him. 

“Listen up nerds,” Steve looked between all of you as you started to playfully boo him, “this weekend is all about being lazy and having fun. So, don’t drown, remember sunscreen, and if you’re going to have sex keep it down and safe.”

“Hell yeah,” you heard Argyle and Jonathan snickering among themselves as you pressed a kiss to Eddie’s bare shoulder. Your friends were absolutely ridiculous sometimes but loved them all.

“And don’t forget - bonfires at nine o’clock sharp. There will be s’mores and beers,” that had you all excited, “now go and have fun, children!” 

Everyone started to scatter as you took Eddie’s hand and started to pull him along to the house. He pretended to huff dramatically as you grinned at him. He looked so good with black shorts and a cut off tank, tattoos on full display, dark ink against pale skin. His mess of curls was pulled into a bun at the stop of his head, a few curls framing his face. He had on a pair of black ray bans and beat up vans on his feet, the pure essence of cool. 

“Come on handsome,” naturally he obliged you and let you drag him along, “let’s get changed and go swimming. It’s so hot and the water looks perfect.”

“Did you bring-”

“The red two-piece that has you practically drooling?” you barely managed to get your words out before squealing as Eddie picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, practically running into the house, “Edward! I didn’t even give you an answer!”

“I presume the answer is a big, fat yes?” He opened the door to the room where you would be staying during your trip. You huffed as he gently set you down on the bed before caging you in between his arms and kissing you softly. You leaned into his touch, pressing to pull away from him until you were in desperate need  of a fresh breath of air, “baby, baby, baby.”

“The answer to your question is a big fat no,” he rolled on his back and threw his arms out in mock exasperation, “calm down and let me finish.”

“You’re a cruel mistress!”

“I got a whole new bathing suit,” you rolled onto your stomach so you could face him. You reached up and touched his face, tenderly brushing your fingers along his cheek, “and I think you’re going to like it.”

“Sweetheart, you could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the entire world,” your entire face softened at his world and you almost melted into a puddle, “and on top of all that, you’ve got the best and biggest heart of all.”

“And great tits-”

“And great tits,” he confirmed as if there was ever any doubt to that, “you’re the whole package baby. I love you.”

“I love you, Eddie,” you took his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “you are the best man. Just so you know.”

He smiled at you, letting out a small wistful little sigh, “before we get too mushy, let’s get changed and get some sun.”

“That sounds excellent, my love.”

-

Okay. Okay. You hadn't been lying when you'd told Eddie that he would like this bathing suit. Bright pink and looking like it was made for you, fitting just as you liked and showing off all the curves you wanted to. You owned it and that in and of itself made you dangerously sexy. Eddie had to work to make sure he didn't get a hard on in front of everyone; he was glad for the cold water of the lake. He might have been drooling though…that was hard to control when you looked like that.

But - but - it got worse. He didn't think it could get worse than trying to control himself around you but then it did. He wasn't sure whether to curse you, Steve Harrington, or everything out in the universe. 

Once he'd calmed down enough and the two of you were playing around in the water, Steve Harrington came out to join you. He was wearing a pair of navy blue swim trunks and nothing else besides a pair of flip flops and sunglasses. He looked good and he knew it. 

And so did Eddie. His eyes raked over Steve's lithe, tan figure, which you quickly caught onto. Eddie studied his golden skin, littered with freckles and delicious chest hair. He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat enormous.

You hadn't realize that Steve had come out at first but when Eddie suddenly fell silent you knew something was wrong. 

"Babe?" On his back on his float, chest already getting tan from the hot summer sun, was Eddie with his mouth hanging open as he stared straight at the dock. You followed his eyeline and almost laughed out loud when you realized what was going on. He quickly glared at you as you stifled your laugh which turned into a horrible snorting sound, "Edward."

"Sweetheart," he huffed like a child, pretty plush lips pulled into a pout as he looked at you, "affectionately - shut up!"

"You are the least conspicuous person ever! At least try to act like you're not drooling!"

"I am not drool-"

"Hey there."

You grinned at Steve as the boy swam over to you, a lazy smile on his face as he treaded water without effort. You splashed some water at Eddie as he remained silent, only a pained look on his face.

"Hey," he snapped to attention and looked between the two of you, brain overloaded with the amount of attractiveness between the two of you, "looking good, Harrington."

If there had been a wall in front of him, he would have been banging his head already. You snorted in amusement before floating onto your back and slowly swimming away with a wave. You were going to let them have their own moment.

"You too man," Steve had a smile so pretty that it was almost cruel. Eddie returned the grin with what he hoped was an equally lovely one, "being in love looks good on you."

"I-I'm not in love with you," Eddie's voice stammered and shook as he looked at Steve with wide, worried eyes. Steve tossed his head back with laughter. Oh. That wasn't what he was insinuating? Awkward.

"I know that," he reached over and gently tugged on one of Eddie's loose curls, "still hope you've got some love for me though."

"Duh," the two of them exchanged shy smiles, "always."

"Me too," Steve agreed and Eddie's heart started to rattle wildly in his chest, "wanna know a secret, Munson?"

"S-sure."

"It would have been cool if it would have been you," and just like that, Eddie was sure his heart stopped beating. The flow of the river around him seemed so loud and he was trying to convince himself that he was hearing incorrectly. Judging from the look on Steve's face, he hadn't heard incorrectly, "but I think we're on the right path regardless."

“Yeah,” Eddie knew that Steve was already devoted to Chrissy. The two of them clearly shared a deep bond despite only having been dating for a few months. When Eddie first learned that Steve was dating someone new, and then when he realized it was another of his friends, he could admit that some jealousy flared up. It was natural, and that was what you tried to explain to Eddie. Even though the two of you had each other and you both knew that you loved each other, it was a normal human emotion to still feel things for other people, “I agree.”

“And just so you know, you’re the most attractive guy I’ve ever met,” Eddie’s cheeks were already pink from the sun he’d been getting - he wasn’t good at remembering to apply sunscreen despite your insistence - but they just turned about ten shades darker when he heard Steve’s confession. Steve bit his lip as he blushed as well, “and you’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too, handsome,” Eddie broke the bit of awkward tension that had settled in between the two of them. There was a moment of silence before the two of them broke into a fit of laughter. You’d found Robin and Nancy and the three of you were watching the boys in amusement. You’d all been taking bets on when, if ever, they’d reveal that they had had crushes on the other, “wanna go and grab a beer?”

“Hell yeah,” he agreed as the two of them high-fived. Steve started to swim towards the dock but Eddie paused for a moment as he turned around to wave at you, a goofy smile on his face. You couldn’t help but return the smile, your heart melting with nothing but affection for your man. 

He might have been a fool but he was your fool.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late by the time all of you made your way back to your bedrooms. The bonfire had gone late into the night and all of you had been reluctant to go to bed despite the fact that you’d be there all week. This was a much needed trip for everyone.

“Hey,” you let yourself fall into the bed, laughing as Eddie copied you and jumped in next to you, easily putting his arm around you and pulling towards him. You couldn’t help yourself as you pressed kisses to his forehead, cheeks, and nose. He giggled at the soft touch of yourself before sighing softly as you draped yourself over him, “I love you, honey boy.”

“I love you,” he reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a small squeeze, “did you know that Steve had a crush on me?”

“I didn’t know,” you stretched out his arms and pressed kisses to his pale, inked skin, “but I knew. We all did. Wasn’t hard to see the two pretty boys oogling each other all the time.”

“We didn’t…oh,” his face between a range of emotions as he processed what you said. Suddenly it all seemed so obvious, “we did, didn’t we. Well, that would have been good to know a few years ago.”

“Excuse me?” you pretended to be shocked and hurt as you turned floppy in his hold, “are you telling me that you think Steve would have been the love of your life and the two of you would have been together living happily ever after?!”

“No way, princess,” he tenderly put his hand on your cheek and turned your face up to his, “you and I were meant to be. That’s never going to change. You’re it for me, baby.”

“I know,” you offer him a cheeky grin, “I just wanted to hear you say it, my love. Never gets old.”

“Then I’ll continue to remind you,” he pulled you down to his lips and kissed you sweetly, “every single day of my life.”

“Promise?” and yeah. He would do absolutely anything in the world for you.

“Promise,” he replied, voice low and soft, “but I’m still mad at you.”

“Mad at me?! Why?” you huffed and started to tickle him, causing him to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Because it should be illegal to be this good looking,” he huffed, “gonna be the death of me.”

“What about you?” you kissed him slowly, “you’re just as bad. Good thing we’re stuck together.”

“Forever,” he confirmed, “ahh, baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Eddie. Lots and lots and then some more, goofy boy.”

[rimouskis]

I lost my best little guy today. it was a long time coming, but it was so long that paradoxically it felt like it might never happen. I didn't know that the last time I saw him would be the last time I ever saw him; that's one of the hard parts of living away from home, I suppose. he was the weirdest dog ever, but he was the only one I ever knew. he was my guy. I thought he was the prettiest, handsomest, most inquisitive little guy. I gave him his name. I picked him out from the shelter. We had him for seventeen long years. I'm going to miss him so very much.

everyone, meet Copper. he was my sunshine boy ♡

[verycharismaticdragon]

@mandlien: Op where is the essay 👀 @latitudeoctopus: An essay I would like to see 🙏

Glad u asked! <-guy who was totally angling for someone to ask

OG post this continues from, for those just tuning in now:

actually SQQ's first encounter with LQG perfectly illustrates which of SY's idiosyncrasies perfectly converged to make him absolutely obsessed with Binghe, in this essay i will

So, to start with, the explanation for why I think this scene in particular is more illuminating than all of SQQ's interactions with actual LBH. 

That's because there's not a single scene in the novel where his interactions with LBH-the-person are not colored by pre-existing bias of already being obsessed with LBH-the-character. Like, consider the scene where he appraises Shen Qingqiu's looks, and finishes it off with:

He still couldn’t compare to Luo Binghe. (vol.1, ch.1)

despite not having seen Luo Binghe in person yet. But no, he's already convinced his beloved blorbo is of course The Handsomest Ever!

Simply speaking, we never encounter Shen Yuan pre-Binghe Syndrome (when instead of brain there's binghe). So it's difficult to tell whether any particular way he thinks or feels in Binghe’s presence is the standard for him, or owed to the fact that he already likes Binghe in at least one way.

But the same can not be said of Liu Qingge: while SY did have some interest in his character, he didn’t really think of him before encountering him in Lingxi Caves. Plus, unlike Binghe who seems to have fully aligned with SQQ’s expectations of him, LQG had given him a little shock — which prompted some re-evaluation of his prev thoughts on SQQ's part.

(cont. under cut)

Now is a good time to mention that I arrived at thinking about this scene while considering Shen Yuan's relationship with toxic masculinity — and remembering I jotted down 'Shen Yuan's fascination with masculinity' in my reread notes for this scene.

[Bai Zhan Peak] was the most warlike of Cang Qiong Mountain's branches, as well as the branch with the greatest martial ability. Every single generation's Bai Zhan Peak Lord was a world-class swordmaster, a victor of countless battles, an undefeated legend. How hot-blooded—how dashing!  Male readers always fervently admired strong characters. Even though Liu Qingge never officially debuted on page, he hadn't lacked for fans, and Shen Yuan had been especially fascinated with him. In his headcanon, Liu Qingge had been a sharp and manly man, powerful and magnificent. A war god, right?! (vol.1, ch.2)

So, Shen Yuan’s fascination with Liu Qingge’s character — or rather his headcanon version of it — is about Liu Qingge being someone who (in SY’s mind) embodies masculine qualities. And what qualities are those? From this section, being “strong” (has to be physically powerful) and “undefeated” (can’t be a loser) — yeah, pretty standard toxic masc starting kit. 

And something of interest here: though SQQ describes it mostly as his own feelings, even in this excerpt, he slips in a “male readers always [...] admired” — which, when considering everything else we know about his relationship to masculinity, kind of gives off an insecurity vibe. He seems to be either trying to justify his own feelings (i.e., ‘other men feel the same way, i’m in-group not out-group, i’m not failing at being a man by feeling this way [admiring another man]’), or else emulating other male fans and trying to convince himself he relates to the story the same way they do (i.e., ‘male readers admire strong characters and im a man therefore i definitely also admire the same things’).

Speaking of emulating other male fans, there’s another quality that SY seems to associate with masculinity, this one not very related to Liu Qingge — though SQQ does make a mental detour into it in the same scene, when talking about other Peaks.

Yeah, when he mentions Xian Shu, and the fact that the popularity of self-insert erotic/lewd fics about Xian Shu "compared to that of the original work” in PIDW fandom, or possibly even in general on ‘Zhongdian’ (since afaik you can publish fanfiction on Chinese webnovel sites alongside original works, you just have to tag it as such). In other words, among male fans. 

But we know SY doesn’t like sex scenes, right? Hell, his favorite wife is Liu Mingyan at least in part because she doesn’t have sex scenes:

There was one more appeal factor. Liu Mingyan was the only female character for whom Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky didn't write detailed sex scenes. (vol.1, ch.2)

Of course… that’s what SQQ says in his head where nobody can hear him. We actually have evidence of him singing a different tune when among other fans:

Most of the female protagonists are stupid sexy lamps, and the male lead doesn't even bed Liu Mingyan, the only breath of fresh air? He doesn't bed the rightful empress? Are you fucking kidding me? (vol.4, ch.26, part 1)

(speaking of, this is why ‘peerless cucumber is SY’s true self’ takes baffle me. his toxicmascsona is his true self, really?)

So SY has another qualifier for ‘manly man’ in his head: being sexual (of course, in a straight way). Which is not something that comes naturally to him, as evidenced by him cringing away from any actual action even when he tries to emulate the thought pattern, e.g.:

Qi Qingqi? She was indeed slightly junior to him, and their first meeting...he'd long forgotten how it went. "Often together" wasn't quite right, though. Perhaps he at times dared to think about going to Xian Shu Peak so they could be "often together," but while he had the wicked intentions, he lacked the courage required to follow through—and he could never commit an act as depraved as stalking. (vol.4, ch.23) 

Riiiight, SQQ, you totally have those 'wicked intentions' that you merely can't follow through on because you just invented reasons not to.

But that does give us an image of SY’s ideal of masculinity. Extremely powerful, undefeatable, and hypersexual… yeah no points for guessing who. I’m pretty sure SQQ even directly equates Bing-ge with masculinity somewhere, I just can’t remember the exact spot. And he also believes that any man should definitely want to be in Bing-ge’s place, like for example here:

Every man dreamed of being caught between an angel and a devil. To watch them jealously vie with each other over him one moment, then risk life and limb for his sake in the next—that was the highest, most sacred, perverted fantasy of every male organism.  (vol.1, ch.2)

…though I must note, once again, “every man”, “every male organism” — but does SQQ actually feel the same way? I think that the answer is he thinks that he should, and is trying to convince himself that he does.

Which must be difficult considering he finds men more attractive than women, returning back to that scene with Liu Qingge.

In any other state, Shen Qingqiu might have declared, "What a beautiful man!" (vol.1, ch.2)

Really bestie? You would've declared it? Because I don't see you show the same enthusiasm about women. In fact, you usually jump right into how they were described in the novel, as if you don't have your own opinion. 

Now, I must note that I personally don’t think finding someone attractive equals actually being attracted to them. But this does imply which way SQQ's tastes veer. In fact, we can even see that he has a type. First, he describes LQG's face as "as beautiful as a fine woman's"; then adds:

This was clearly the face of a charming young master who arranged flowers and plucked farewell willow branches! (vol.1, ch.2)

Of course, if we are talking about charming young masters with feminine looks, their bearing that of a classic Chinese gentleman (warrior-scholar ideal who’d ‘pluck farewell willow branches’)...

That firm yet humble countenance, demonstrating his noble and unyielding spirit. That pencil-straight back and stance, evincing a proud core that would rather break than bend! (vol.1, ch.1)

[SQQ] saw a glimpse of the future Luo Binghe's unique grace, that of "eyes like cold stars, a soft and radiant smile, with muted words and quiet laughter." (vol.1, ch.1)

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge's fair and clean pretty-boy type didn't really suit the tastes of "Great Master" Airplane Flying Towards the Sky. He had only assigned this sort of configuration to the protagonist to meet his stallion hardware specifications. The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (vol.4, ch.26, part 2)

…there’s no question who is superlative in SQQ’s heart. To boot, he doesn’t even realize that he’s biased about LBH’s attractiveness, as we can see from Airplane-bro’s musings above. So that’s Cucumber-bro’s type: cultured, pretty, a bit feminine.

See, a fun little discrepancy here: what SQQ sees as a masculine ideal and therefore can admire plainly — again, powerful, undefeatable, and hypersexual, — and what he finds attractive in a man, under all those layers of denial, are two pretty different things.

Liu Qingge, despite his appearance unveiling a side of both to us, doesn’t actually fully embody either type: on the masculinity side, he is missing the hypersexuality, on the attractiveness side, his looks fit but his bearing doesn’t match.

But you know who hits all of SY’s qualifications on both counts?.. yeah, once again no points for guessing, it stars with "Bing" and ends with "ge".

So: the source of Shen Yuan’s obsession with LBH-the-character is the intersection of those two factors. Like you know that old wlw joke “I can’t tell if I wanna be her or date her”? Thats Shen Yuan with Luo Binghe, but, yknow, unconsciously. He admires LBH as an epitome of masculinity, an image of a Perfect Male to strive for; he also very much finds him attractive in a gay way. 

In fact, I would even say that an important component of Binghe brainrot is that he is an acceptable target for admiration. How can SY be accused of being gay over liking a horny stallion novel? So it’s totally normal that he thinks of Binghe a lot, obviously that’s just because he looks up to him! Because Binghe is such a perfect iteration of a male stallion protagonist! Who wouldn’t want to be in his place, thinks Shen Yuan, never ever having imagined being in Binghe’s place even once. Ofc that’s only because Binghe got insane game though! Shen Yuan couldn’t hope to compare. LBH is just so admirable and sexy,, for the wives of course, the wives find him sexy, not Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan is just stating facts— etcetcetc.

Point is, LBH is a man that Shen Yuan can like without shame, because he has a whole bag of above-the-board reasons to prove that he's not liking him the wrong way. A perfect target of convergence for Shen Yuan’s conscious and unconscious thoughts (and desires).

And this is how SY ended up with the years-long hyperfix we see in the beginning of the novel. 

[running-tweezers]

Ok time for the DamiHux bitch to relisten to the DamiHux Bonus Audio for the 3rd time and record her every thought

(NSFW obvs, minors DNI)

First of all I feel like the opening of this one is a great opportunity to remind everyone of this little thing I managed to write bc holy shit. Good Morning.

Huxley’s sleepy morning voice is so fucking cute 😭

The way they laugh together!!!! They’re in love!!

Damien dodging saying he’s “the handsomest” in every way possible, but Hux is NOT letting him off the hook. Huxley really said “I am going to help give this man the self-confidence he deserves, so help me god”

When they call each other baby??? My brain = 2 liter of Diet Coke, ‘Baby’ = a pack of Mentos. It happened so much in this one I thought I was gonna take off into the atmosphere.

Damien with the Uno Reverse Card Surprise. No You.

It’s their 2 year anniversary I’m gonna cry.

“I’ve been known to swallow my pride.” “You’ve been known to swallow more than that.” Ay Yo

“Dress for a hike” “Why?” “…… bc we’re going for a hike, baby.” “Oh! 😄” Huxley the man you are.

They’re both graduated!!! And they have careers!!! Damien’s working at DAMN!!! He’s trying to fix things like he’s always wanted to!!! They’ve both come so far!!!

“I’m here to help pull you back onto steady ground” What if I cried

The WAY I have wanted these two to fuck outside like that non-canon Huxley BA!!!!!! FINALLY!!!

“Come on Nature Boy. Let’s get natural” DAMIEN PLS

Damien using his powers to turn the water into a natural hot tub, I CAN’T

THAT SMACK CAUGHT ME SO OFF GUARD OH MY GOD. HUXLEY

Hux is so sweet I’m getting a cavity. I don’t care tho, rot my teeth out, big guy.

THE THROAT GOAT RETURNS -air horn noises-

I swear every time Damien engages Throat Goat mode, Huxley sounds like he’s ready to write his goddamn vows.

“Pick me up. Turn us around. Press me into this wall. And Fuck. Me.” WE LOVE A POWER BOTTOM DAMIEN MOMENT

I’d like to introduce you to my favorite thing in the world ✨Damien Whimpering✨

The IMMEDIATE concern from Huxley when he said the rock was digging into his back??? And the healing??? I don’t think we’ve ever seen Hux heal before??? HELLO?? Aftercare King?? I’ll cry??

THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IM GONNA THROW UP /POS

Also HUXLEY HAPPY TRAIL CONFIRMED LETS GO BOYS

In conclusion: this is my new favorite piece of Damien/Huxley anything he has ever made, they are disgustingly cute and in love, and I’m never gonna stop being feral and annoying about them bc they’re everything in a ship I’ve ever loved, thank you goodnight.

[selfishpresley]

Cuando Calienta El Sol/Hentai/Desafió

Her bite reflex got worse when he looked so good. And Judith knew that he loved it when she lost control and just started biting. 

But she couldn’t do it now, she had to give him a massage for working so hard. Pushing himself to get on that podium and place a hand over his heart for her. 

Sergio’s usually tanned skin getting darker with the sun. Her hands were massaging some luxurious and amazing smelling sunscreen lotion. All over his arms. Then shoulder. Then abs. Then his chest. 

She squeezed his pecs and saw him raising a brow behind his sunglasses.

“Amorcito,” She started, hands moving by themselves as she ran her hands over the waxed skin and growing muscles. Her mouth watered. “Te voy a comer vivo. Te vez–” She shook her head in wonder. (Little love, I’m going to eat you alive. You look–)

He smiled his little shy smile. Embarrassed. “Ya estoy viejo.” (I’m old now.)

She rolled her eyes, her sweet man. “Pues yo también.” (Well, me too.)

“No, pero– Mirame.” He gestured to his body. (No, well– Look at me.)

All she saw, she wanted to bite and mark. If she brought her knife, he could be at her mercy. “Estas super sabroso. Te la quiero mamar.” She didn’t know which part of him she wanted to suck. Judith was in the mood to give him the sloppiest– (You’re super delicious. I want to suck on it.)

“Judit.” he looked around at the private beach. Red faced that made her worry that she needed to put some sunscreen on his cheeks again.

“Just the tip.” It was soo freeing being his cockslut out in the open. Knowing that she was the only person to taste him and touch him like this. 

The flush reached his chest, as under her butt, she felt him harden at the thought despite his disapproving frown.

“No querias cogerme aqui.” She tried not to pout. He hadn’t wanted to fuck her for the past couple of weeks. Being too tired from his sims and work. She understood and tried not to let it get to her. There were moments in their relationship where they cuddled and went to sleep. But now she was horny and riled up after he whined to her about not wanting to put on sunscreen. Laying there, being all sexy as she hovered over his lap and gave him a much needed massage. (You didn’t want to fuck me here.)

She loved this man. Loved him so much, and desired him. Wanted to consume him. Eat him up. Bones and all. She would be trying to burrow her way into his chest. Sleeping like a tinkerbell in his chest cavity. 

If she had a dick, she would be trying to get him pregnant at all moments. Now, he looked a bit unsure. “What’s wrong?”

“Me senti,” His downturned eyes turned sad. “No me sentí muy bien. Me estoy envejeciendo.” He shrugged, trying to shrug it off. (I felt, I didn’t feel too good. I’m aging.)

Her possessiveness had to be put to the side for this. “Sergio Michel,” God there weren’t many times that she cried but tears wanted to burst from her eyes. “Eres el hombre más guapo con quien yo he estado.” (You’re the handsomest man that I've ever been with.)

“Soy el único hombre.” He interrupted. (I’m the only man.)

“And for good reason.” She could have her pick of the assholes at the agency. The sharp suits, the senator’s sons. Prospective precedents. Millionaires. Billionaires that still had hair. “Out of all of the guys that wanted, I wanted the Mexican man with thick fingers and thick co–”

“Judit.” 

“Eres el mas guapo. Eres Tom Cruise sin la religion loca.” She thought about that. “Con una religión menos loca.” (you’re the most handsomest. You’re Tom Cruise without the crazy religion. With a less crazy religion.)

He laughed at that.

“Tienes– ¿Que? ¿Treinta tres?” People were talking about her retiring, back home. “Estás en la mejor etapa de tu vida. ‘Sos un adulto’.”(You have– What? Thirty three? You’re in the best stage of your life. ‘You are an adult.’)

“No me hables como Javi.” He groaned and covered his face with his large hands. Thick fingers, indeed. (Don’t talk to me like Javi.)

She pulled a hand so he would look at her again. “Eres un hombre, te sientes viejo porque no tienes veinte años. Pero te faltan muchos para que alguien te mire y diga que ya estas muy viejo.” (You’re a man, you feel old because you’re not twenty. But a lot of years are left until someone looks at you and says that you’re too old.)

The only wrinkles on his were on his balls and around his eyes. Crows feet from smiling. Judith didn’t tell him that. He knew how obsessed she was with every inch of him.

“A veces me siento como una pervertida, quererte tanto. Ser tan posesivo contigo. Porque sé que si posteas esas fotos de nuestras vacaciones, la gente se volverá loca.” (Sometimes I feel like a pervert, wanting you so much. Being so possessive of you. Because I know if you post the pictures of our vacations, the people would go crazy.)

He shook his head like what she was saying was ridiculous.

“Es la verdad. ¿Por qué crees que me enloco por estar tan cercas de ti siempre? ¡Alguien te va robar!” (It 's true. Why do you think that i get crazy to be near you all the time? Someone is going to steal you!)

“Estas loca.” He laughed. In a better mood now. Calmer. He exhaled and released some tension. “Me senti, no se–” (you’re crazy. I felt, I don’t know–)

Cont. in AO3

[cherubharrington]

I can just imagine Steve getting jealous about you gushing over a cute celebrity. Something romantic happens on screen causing you to squeal. And he just scoffs.

“Oh please, I have better hair than he does.” He says, grumbling. You turn to him and place your hand on his cheek. He’s still pouting as you do so.

“Aww, it’s okay baby. You’ll get cute like that, one day.” You joke and his mouth falls open.

Robin burst into laugher and he pouts even more. He buries his head onto your chest, your fingers running into his hair.

“Just kidding, I think you’re the most handsomest, most sexiest guy ever. I promise.” You whisper into his ear. He looks up at you from your chest.

“Yeah, I know.” He smirks, you push him off. He lets out a little laugh. Robin smiles at the two of you before looking back at the movie.