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ravengards-rogue · 8 months ago

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WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ;

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur.

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun.

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him.

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate.

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy.

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures.

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember.

Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him.

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain.

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down.

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something.

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while.

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately.

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you.

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish.

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting.

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit.

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs.

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,”

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,”

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,”

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.”

You giggle back at him

“What kinda trouble is that now?”

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice.

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.”

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly.

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn.

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted.

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it.

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily.

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show.

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp.

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms.

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine.

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that.

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.)

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did.

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it. It was just all too easy again, to be with you.

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family.

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see. Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street.

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy. John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you.

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you.

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision.

You might turn him into a literate man yet.

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life.

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself.

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck.

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?”

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you.

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,”

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat.

“John,”

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.”

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,”

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,”

“A foolish one,”

John laughs.

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving.

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get. He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently.

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.)

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters.

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living.

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is) loyal to Dutch. To the gang.

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after.

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long.

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time. He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about.

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around.

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen. If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing.

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.)

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit.

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would.

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d never find again.

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves.

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too.

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you.

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him.

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him. You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,”

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease. All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides. You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space.

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words.

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.”

Darling as you always are, you nod softly.

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ;

Wandering.

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on.

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly.

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains.

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few.

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it.

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list.

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are.

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him.

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some.

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you. And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything.

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not.

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss.

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars.

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze.

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks.

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,”

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?”

“Well, I’m not fine with it.”

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?”

“Please, what?”

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.”

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life. “Yeah, that’s good to hear.”

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto.

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head.

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,”

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires.

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you.

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed.

“Kiss?”

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #javier escuella x reader #charles smith x reader #rdr2 x reader #rogues love letters #red dead redemption 2 x reader #THIS IS THE LAST TIME. THE LAST FUCKING TIME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 2 months ago

Text

You look like a fun place to sit.

Gif credits

Pairing: Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader

Words count: 2667

Rating: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You decide to enjoy a night at the movies, your neighbor Frankie ruins it all. Or maybe not?

Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, fluff, sort of romcom vibes (?), smut, enemies to lovers, age unspecified but they are both full grown adults, Frankie is annoying but also cute and lovely and fucking gorgeous, reader has hair, breasts and vagina, other than that no other description of her is given, fingering (f receiving), sexual acts in public places (again? Again. I'm not even particularly interested in doing that irl I don't know what to say to you, please forgive me), pet names (honey, baby, princess), arguing, kissing, no use of Spanish because I terribly suck at it and I don't want to butcher another language LOL. If by chance I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

It’s my first Frankie ff and I’m so incredibly nervous to post it you all! I really hope it doesn’t sucks because I had so much fun writing it today in one sitting ‘cause I’m just an impulsive impatient mess. (Leo sun and Aries moon, what do you expect from me if not chaos? I had nothing a few hours ago, I even skipped WIP Wednesday and btw thanks for the tag @almostempty 🩷)

Title comes from a gif of Karen Walker from Will and Grace that I saw last night, it made me laugh a lot and this thing was born LOL

As usual, English is not my first language so please be gentle, no beta and no proofreading, it’s tiny and it’s all my fault, I’m sorry 💀 Thanks to anyone who will read this!

“Excuse me, you should stand up, that’s my seat”

Frankie turns, looking at you with a surprised expression “I don’t think so, you’re wrong” he replies.

Ugh, your neighbor.

Frankie lives two houses away from you. Last winter you had a fight at a neighborhood meeting because you pointed out that he keeps forgetting to put the recycling bins back in, and he told you to mind your own business and called you an hysterical witch.

A stupid fight that ended up with you not saying hello to each other and various other arguments about your flashy Christmas lights or his overgrown yard. You and Frankie fight constantly, about everything. And now he's here.

You glare at him “I’m not wrong at all, look” and you wave your ticket under his nose “P10, see? It’s my seat and you’re rude”.

A grin spreads across his face “listen, honey, I don’t know where you got this ticket, you probably made it yourself, I bought it a moment ago and it’s the same seat”

He takes a card out of his pocket and hands it to you, remaining comfortably seated with a large popcorn box.

You look at the ticket, him again, the ticket again “how the hell is that possible?! I booked it on their website a week ago”

He sneers “I told you! It must be a system error, I don’t know, I’m not getting up from here”

You are furious. The theater is filling up and you absolutely don’t want to leave, you have been waiting for this movie for months and you have inspected the theater map choosing a seat that would guarantee you the very best view.

“I bought it first, so I have more right to be here than you do,” you say firmly and Frankie laughs.

“Where are we, elementary school? Listen, honey, go buy yourself another ticket and leave me alone.” He replies crunching on popcorn.

The way he calls you “honey” irritates you deeply, it sounds like an insult.

“I’m not going anywhere, YOU get the fuck out of here” you hiss.

“No” he simply replies and then he turns back at the screen pretending you’re not there.

“Truly a gentleman, as usual. I have no words.” you roll your eyes and search for an usher to ask for help. No one is there.

The movie starts in 5 minutes and you don’t want to miss anything you paid for. If you went to the box office right now to complain it would take forever to get back in.

“Fuck” you exclaim and sit down next to him huffing. You are sure that someone will make you get up very early and it pisses you off.

Frankie continues to nibble on his popcorn and looks at you with an extremely amused expression, it seems like the show has become you.

“Why do you care so much about this movie anyway?” he asks you. “Does any of your relatives happen to be in it?“

You’re fuming.

His teasing tone, his vaguely Spanish accent, his smirk, the sound of him chewing, everything bothers you.

“No. Shut the fuck up” you tell him with a death stare.

You won’t tell him that your favorite actor stars in it, that you have every photo from the set of this movie saved on your phone, that you’ve read every article about it, and that you couldn’t wait to enjoy it on the first day of screening.

You can already hear his raucous laughter. No, you would never tell Frankie anything like that.

“You're not one of that guy's crazy fans, are you?”

“What guy?” you ask him, pretending not to know what he's talking about. “Gladiator is one of my favorite movies, that's all. I just wanted to watch the sequel in peace. Someone is stopping me, though”

“That guy, I bet you like him, what’s his name? Paul Pascal?” he stares at you searching for every little involuntary movement on your face that might give you away.

“Oh for God’s sake, what are you doing here anyway? Do you even know what you're about to see? They are Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, two different people, you uncultered swine.” You yell. This guy is impossible.

“Yeah, whatever, so which one do you fancy?”

“Fucking nobody” you lie “I just want to watch a movie after a horrible week at work, okay?” You try to play on his guilt. If he has one, you think.

“Well, I've had a rough week too, okay?” he shrugs without stopping to give you that annoying little smile. “And it's not my fault that this theater is having problems with its computer system.”

You glance at him, wondering if he's telling the truth, it's impossible to guess from his face.

People keep sitting in the front rows and you start hoping that luck will be on your side and that no one will make you get up.

“Okay, look, now we're going to watch this movie and then we'll go our separate ways, please don't bother me anymore"

“As you wish, princess” he replies ironically.

You don't even answer him, you're too busy checking that no other people come in.

Finally the opening credits start to roll and the doors close with a dull thud.

You made it, despite this unbearable guy, you feel victorious.

You begin to relax in your chair and you don't know why you turn to look at him, lingering on his face for the first time in months.

His eyes are fixed on the screen. In the dim light you observe his raven curly hair tucked under his baseball cap, his dark eyes, the line of his prominent nose, his scruffy beard, his mustache, just above a pair of lips that seem made for kissing.

Really, truly, gorgeous.

You're so busy arguing with him all the time that you never realized how handsome he is.

He's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you can’t help but admire the way the fabrics hug his body so deliciously.

He’s just your type, built up in all the right ways, you find yourself unable to take your eyes off him until the last second. Then the movie starts and you look away.

He’s still your number one enemy, what the hell were you thinking?

When Pedro first appears, you shift in your seat, crossing your legs.

“FUCK” you scream internally “here we go”

Unbelievably stunning in his armor, you’re basically drooling.

You try to stay as composed as possible but Frankie is next to you and notices.

He comes closer to you and whispers in your ear “So it was all about this guy… the fuss before” You feel one of his large hand brushing your arm that is resting on the armchair and you try with all your strength to remain still even if he causes a storm inside you and especially in your panties.

“Shut. Up.” You hiss, without moving your gaze. You feel his breath on your skin and it’s intoxicating.

He chuckles “Yeah, that was I was thinking” and throws another popcorn into his mouth.

Your cheeks burn and you're thankful you're in the cinema, in the dark.

“What’s so special about this guy?” Frankie approaches again “is his penis platinum by any chance? All my female colleagues at work are crazy about him”

You turn to look at him with the desire to slap him “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

“Okay, okay, I was just asking”

You hate people talking at the movies. You wonder if you could have a more annoying guy than Frankie next to you. Probably.

Hotter? Probably not.

This dude hits on your last nerve but he makes you horny at the same time.

Terrible combination.

Frankie settles back into his seat and resumes watching the film.

You can't help but look at him from time to time and your desire grows. even if you're offended that he didn't even offer you his popcorn. Rude.

His mouth pouted and his eyebrows furrowed as he seems all focused on the movie makes you want to cup his face and kiss him.

You can still feel the warmth of his hand on your arm and his breath on your neck.

Concentrate, you tell yourself, it's the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate. Fuck. You want him so bad. This revelation drives you crazier than Pedro half naked on screen.

At a particularly bloody scene you involuntarily turn around and hide your face on his shoulder.

You feel his arm around you “hey, it’s okay. I’ll tell you when it’s over” and he holds you tight the whole time.

He smells clean and fresh, like citrus and sage with a light hint of cigarette that you assume he smoked right before entering.

Your mind goes fuzzy and your pulse races at an impossibly high rate.

“You can look now” and it takes you a few seconds too long to register his words.

“Th-Thanks” you mutter, shifting back to your place.

Halfway through the movie the lights come back on and Frankie bursts out laughing looking at you. “What?” you ask him with wide eyes “what is it that makes you laugh so much?”

“Your face” he grins “it's clearly painted on it how much you want that guy. He turns you on, huh?”

You roll your eyes “Oh my God! Can't you go sit somewhere else? Two rows down, look how many free seats there are”

“I like it better here”

You cuss, there’s no way to get rid of him.

He has something magnetic that destabilizes you, your eyes fall involuntarily on his neck, slide along his broad chest and stop at the crotch of his pants. From the way he sits you can clearly see that he is quite big.

“What are you looking at?” he asks you amusedly.

You immediately look up. “Nothing”

“Nothing my ass. Did you like what you saw?”

Fuck. He noticed. You're done for. You hate to make him understand that after all, yes, you like what you saw. He seems pleased, proud, you would so much like to wipe that little smile off his face. As much as you struggle to admit it to yourself, you like him.

“Well, maybe…after all, you look like a fun place to sit”

You can't believe you actually said that.

Frankie's response is not long in coming, his eyes immediately darken and his smile twists in a mischievous way.

The lights go out again and you feel him tug gently on your arm “come here, pretty”

He sits you down on his lap and as the movie starts again he whispers “was that what you wanted the whole time? Were you offended that I didn’t invite you?” you can clearly feel his smile spread across your skin just before he places his lips on your neck.

You would like to say something back but his closeness makes you confused and excited.

He sucks your skin like he's hungry and you moan in the dark "shh baby you gotta stay quiet while I give you what you want”

You don't know how but you find the strength to reply, "God, you're so arrogant.”

He tightens his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him, now you are practically sitting on his cock. You feel it pressing against your ass, trapped in his pants.

A rush of pleasure wets your pussy and you bite your lips to hold back another moan, you hear his hoarse voice in your ear “Maybe. You like it though” You hate to admit that he is right.

The heat of his body envelops you pleasantly, he raises a hand to one of your breasts and squeezes it over your shirt. You like his hands. They are big, expert and eager to touch you, they make your head spin.

You completely forgot about the movie, which seemed impossible to you, if they had told you you would have laughed in their face. In no universe would you have expected this.

“God” you whine “oh my God” His hand slides under your shirt and reveals your breast pulling down your bra, it is still covered but now you can feel his skin against yours. His fingers gently grasp one of your nipples, pulling and twisting it.

“Open your eyes, baby. Watch the movie like a good girl” his voice sounds authoritative, it irritates you and another rush of pleasure floods you at the same time.

“It’s not that easy” you mutter between your teeth as you feel his other hand dangerously approaching the hem of your skirt. He slowly goes up, as you try to hold back and make sure no one notices what he’s doing to you. Luckily, everyone seems enthralled by the film.

At this moment you don't even know why you started arguing so fiercely, if you had known before you would have tried to smooth things over a long time ago.

His fingers reach your panties, you feel them barely touching you and you already feel yourself burning with anticipation.

They move under your skirt, pushing your panties aside, grazing at your outer lips and then dipping inside you “Fuck, you’re soaking”

He moves them up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit.

You feel his heavy breathing on your neck, his tongue running over your skin and his teeth nibbling on you.

“Fuck, Frankie” you cry

“Eyes to the movie”

You want to turn around and straddle him but there isn't enough room and Frankie holds you firmly anyway.

He applies pressure on your clit just right, starting to move two of his thick fingers in circle over it, the motion of his hand is partially hidden by the fabric of your skirt and your moans die in your throat one after the other. Frankie is rubbing away your sanity, you feel possessed and delirious under his touch.

Your last shred of control is torn by his fingers entering inside you, claiming your cunt as his, curling and scratching at your spongy spot.

Your eyes are still fixed on the screen but your vision is totally blurred, you see nothing, you understand nothing, you only feel Frankie pumping incessantly inside you while continuing to rub your clit with his thumb.

You feel the soft reverberation of his voice behind you, close to your ear “good girl, you're taking me so well”

The subtle Spanish accent in his voice now seems to you the most erotic sound in the world, sweet, melodious, addictive.

He takes you to the edge, you throw your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes so everything goes black and you only feel him, until even biting your lips doesn't help anymore. He covers your mouth with his hand as you explode in a devastating orgasm, you moan against his skin, between his thick fingers that have just left your breast and you already miss them, feeling full and satiated by him.

He uncovers your mouth and kisses your neck, pressing his hand to your hip to keep you from slipping off his lap as your body trembles against his.

“Shit” you mutter “Frankie…oh my god”

“Do you think we can stop arguing all the time now?” He playfully says as he nuzzles at your hair.

“I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked, you know, I’m just like that” you reply, grinning and turning around to finally fix your eyes on his.

“I noticed it”

You take off his cap laughing and put it on backwards and before he starts to protest you kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth, tasting butter and salt on his tongue.

“Take me home”

“The movie isn't over yet,” Frankie observes, and you reply, “that means you'll have to take me to see it again and you’ll pay”

“Fine to me, princess”

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #francisco morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #one shot #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu

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women-are-hot · 1 year ago

Text

INSTAGRAM LIVE • A. PUTELLAS

request: “I can ask that the reader and Alex do a live together and Alexia looks at the reader with loving eyes and answers questions together all with cuteness.”

pairings: alexia putellas x fem!reader.

genre: pure fluff.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: just alexia and you being so in love that it makes fans sick lol.

note: this was in my drafts, so decided to edit it and post it for y’all. hope you like the small surprise fic <3

you were just casually laying with your head on alexia’s lap while she ran her fingers through your hair. it was your favorite thing to do when you had time. laying with your girlfriend and her running her fingers through your hair.

just when you had fallen asleep, alexia decided to wake you up by caressing your cheek. “mi amor” she whispered, but enough for you to hear. you hummed a ‘yes’ into her stomach, wanting her to continue running her fingers through your hair.

“should we go live on my instagram?” alexia asked you, making you rub your eyes and sit up on the couch beside alexia with your head still on her shoulder. “do you even know what you’re talking about la reina?” you teased her which earned you a light flick by her finger on your forehead.

you fake gasped, but the gasp was quickly wiped away when alexia kissed your forehead, then your nose and lastly, a passionate kiss on your lips. “you’re forgiven” you said with a smile.

“yeah, i know” alexia responded with a cheeky smile, making you roll your eyes at her.

“anyway, should we go live on instagram?” alexia asked, repeating her question. “si. it would be fun, but i won’t help you with anything. you have to figure it out yourself” you answered, trying not to laugh as you knew alexia wasn’t the best at instagram yet even if she tried a lot, especially after getting so many followers.

“mi amor-” alexia started complaining, but you responded with a simple ‘no’. after more complaints from your girlfriend, you two agreed that if she made everything a very big disaster, you would eventually help her.

alexia also decided that she should do a quick story before going live, so her fans would be ready to watch the two of you and send questions. “i want you to be in it too” alexia said and literally took her arm around your waist, dragging you into her without any warning, but you couldn’t complain as she started the video.

“hola everyone. y/n and i are going live here on instagram in a few minutes, so we hope y’all will come and ask us questions and hang out. adios, see you soon!” alexia announced while you just stared at her with a big smile. what did you do to deserve her?

“you’re so cute!” you mumbled into her shoulder, still with a big smile on your face. “qué? why?” alexia asked, worried that she said something wrong as english isn’t her first language.

“calm down babe. you didn’t say anything wrong. you just sounded so cute while talking english in your hot spanish accent” you answered as you tried to cheer up your worried girlfriend. she always get so worried about saying something wrong in english.

“my hot spanish accent?” alexia mumbled confused at you. you just gave her your usually cute little smile with a simple nod. “you really think my accent is hot?” alexia asked as if she was surprised.

“ale, everything about you is hot” you answered in a low voice, failing to keep a shy smile off your face. alexia’s confused look was now replaced with a smirk, looking you right in the eyes, almost making you weak.

“is that so?” alexia asked while you just nodded as you looked down at your feet, feeling alexia’s eyes burn through you. alexia then took her finger under your chin, making you look back up at her.

she then smashed her lips into your in a slow and passionate kiss. just as you had started kissing her back, she stopped kissing you and walked away. “what the- ale, where are you going?” you yelled at her.

“i’m just going to make us some iced coffees before we go live. that is okay right miss y/l?” alexia asked in a teasing tone while you just huffed at her with an annoyed face, sitting down on the couch with your phone, posting alexia’s story on your profile.

after eight minutes, alexia was back with two iced coffees and ready to go live. she opened her phone and started the live with 35,000 people already watching. alexia just somehow didn’t know that.

“do i have something in my teeth?” alexia asked, putting her face close to the camera, finally making you crack a big laugh. “why’re you laughing?” she asked and after wiping your tears from your laughs, you answered her. “do you know that 35.000 people just heard and saw that?”

“huh? are we already live?” alexia asked. you just slightly nodded, before going into another laughing attack full of tears. “why didn’t you tell me, idiota?” she mumbled with a frown.

“i told you that you had to figure all of this out yourself” you said with a big smile. “you’re annoying” she said. “but you love me” you responded with an even bigger smile that even alexia couldn’t resist as she started to smile herself a bit.

“i really don’t know anymore to be honest” alexia mumbled, but you could still hear it, making you hit her shoulder. “woahhh. that hurt so much” alexia said in sarcasm while you just rolled your eyes at her.

“save that for later mi amor” alexia whispered into your ear, making you blush a bit, but enough for the fans to see it.

@ alexia4ever - what did alexia just say to make y/n blush like that?

@ putellasluv11 - you guys are really making me feel so single

@ aleandynschild - cutest couple ever! literally my parents!

“alright, we thought we could answer some questions, so ask a few things and we’ll try to answer as best as we can” alexia explained with a tomato colored head beside her. then questions started flowing in.

“what’s the best thing about living and playing in barca?” alexia readed out loud. “you should answer that, amor” alexia said, putting her arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer.

“well, there’s quite a few things, but first of all, the sunny weather is amazing, especially when you come from Sweden or the nordic countries in general” you started while alexia chuckled a bit at you and looked at you with what the fans called ‘heart eyes’.

“of course there’s more than amazing weather! barcelona has always been my dream club to play for as my parents always cheered for them, making me a fan automatically. so when i got the offer to play for barca, i was so excited and of course couldn’t say no to such a big offer. the club just means so much to me and i’m so grateful for all of my teammates that i get to call my friends. and of course, there’s la reina de barca, alexia putellas. my best friend and other half” you rambled, leaning into alexia during the last sentence.

“so yeah, basically everything about living and playing in barca is the best thing” you added, looking up at your girlfriend as she always looked down at you with a big smile. “am i talking too much?” you asked her.

“no. tu respuesta fue perfecta, mi amor” alexia answered, taking some of your hair behind your hair, giving your head a kiss, making fans feel very single again. after that little sweet moment, the two of you went back to answering questions for about an hour and a half while making fans awe over your relationship.

@ ynputellas0 - the way y/n was talking about barca and alexia was so cute, i can’t

@ alexiabiggestfan - alexia is being a romantic girlfriend ulalalala

@ lareinaaayn - i’m literally so in love with both of them

@ alelovesyn - alexia’s heart eyes for y/n are just so cute. i want what they have!

#woso imagines #woso imagine #woso masterlist #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #espwnt imagines #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #woso #gxg

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shveris · 2 months ago

Text

my jjk headcanons, part 4

some of these can be seen as modern!au AND canon universe things

part 1

part 2

part 3

when yuuji cries, it rains blood/red water (???) in sukuna’s inner domain

shoko can handle human bodies without issues but animal bodies? she tears up every time without fail

languages satoru is fluent in, besides japanese: english, korean, mandarin. he can also hold simple conversations in spanish, portuguese, italian, german, russian and ukrainian. he’s not sure if he should give french a try (because 1. it sounds awful, 2. it’s a difficult language, 3. he’s made too many “i hate the french” jokes and he’d feel low-key embarrassed if he ends up speaking it)

in addition to the hc above, satoru also regularly gets really confused about kanji & hanzi (iykyk, someone please end my suffering)

modern!au yuuji uploads song covers on niconico & youtube because gege said yuuji has the best singing voice + it’s canon that he likes to sing. his most popular uploads are deep coma, overdose, odoriko and asu no yozora shoukaihan

click the song names to get redirected to youtube in case you don’t know any of these

he’s an awful rapper though so whenever there’s rap parts, he makes sukuna record them since their voices sound almost the same

megumi cannot sleep unless it’s completely and utterly dark in his room. no LEDs, no lights coming through his blinds, no nothing. when he gets fed up with all the light sources, he just disappears into his shadow and sleeps in there

modern!au satoru can play a dozen of instruments (canon satoru can’t because his clan deemed learning those things as unnecessary for the holder of the six eyes)

modern!au sukuna would make those “cooking because murder is illegal” tiktoks

it’s a coping mechanism he copied from his twin because yuuji bakes when he’s in a bad mind space

suguru keeps a plethora of house plants and they’re all thriving (his place looks like a jungle)

satoru names his pets & suguru’s most used cursed spirits after characters from his fav movies & shows (click here for a more detailed post i did for this a while back)

sukuna can take control over yuuji’s reflections and shadows (non-shamans can’t see it though)

sukuita twins in modern!au would be the same height until they hit 12 — sukuna gets a growth spurt because he eats his veggies. around 17 yuuji’s suddenly taller than him and he’s just ��????!!!!”

adding onto that (cuz i love twins!au): sukuna buys lots of kirby merch because it reminds him of yuuji — he would never loudly admit it though. he just puts it in yuuji’s room and doesn’t talk about it ever

suguru has lots of things twice because shoko and satoru tend to accidentally buy him the same things for his birthday

shoko knows how to play the ukulele. it started out as a joke but she’s actually really good at it. she rickrolls people when asked to play something

modern!au sashisu would be like the plastics

suguru and shoko used to roll their cigs (it’s cheaper) until they befriended satoru. he uses his family’s assets very well by financing all their nicotine addictions

satoru only smokes cigs with those balls inside the filter — you have to break them before smoking — because they taste sweet(er). he dislikes the ones with menthol though

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk hcs #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #shveris’ blue spring #blue spring hcs #gojo satoru #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #itadori yuuji #ryomen sukuna #fushiguro megumi

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redclercs · 1 year ago

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

viii. 'cause I know that it's delicate

— the one where he is rooting for the anti-hero.

❝𝘉𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳. 𝘔𝘰𝘳�� 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘴.❞ —𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴

warnings: did somebody say charles-centered chapter? third person pov, hate, mention of last chapter's panic attack, misogyny (i'm sorry!!! i'm going to let y/n have peace eventually i swear!!!) foul language, cheesy taylor swift references, 2.4k words (+articles as always!).

masterlist ✢ next

Can we stop proving Taylor Swift right for once? When she wrote 'My reputation's never been worse' back in 2017 we thought that would be the end of it. But in more recent times (2017 was AGES ago, guys, come on) the lyrics are still relevant and being applied to actress y/n y/ln's life. Her reputation truly has never been worse.

One thing is being called bad at your job. Which, okay, she is not (I am not biased, I'm just not stupid). y/n is great at being a RomCom actress, she has a stylist that sells her well and has good social media presence. Or had, since that's all gone now.

Even if she was lucky enough to really start making it in Hollywood, we can't ignore the fact that for the past two months y/n has been exposed as a really bad person. AND SHE'S LETTING IT HAPPEN!

While a lot of people in social media have come to her defense in the rejected marriage proposal topic, saying she doesn't have to say yes if she doesn't feel like it, others say it's what she 'owed' to Aidan Kim.

Sources, who are still yet to be revealed, have talked to magazines and celebrity sites about her romance with the guy she only sees as a toy. Does y/n have feelings at all? I guess Charles Leclerc didn't like what she said about him, since there were no pictures of them together at the Spanish Grand Prix. Losing your boyfriend and your reputation in the same week must hurt.

But that's not even the main issue here, why is y/n letting all of this happen right in front of her eyes? Hello, girl, speak up! Does she really have nothing to say in her defense?

People are eating her alive and what she does is post her luxurious breakfast in Monaco, Elix cans and Ferrari Special Edition merch. y/n doesn't care what is being said as long as people keep talking about her. You're going to regret this, girl. That's all I'm saying.

For now, let's say goodbye to the 'Queen of RomComs' reputation (2019-2023).

By Bridget Garcia

Matilde Bassi comes in the defense of y/n y/ln after last week's new discoveries on her breakup, a turmoil that has followed y/n for months now.

"She owes nothing to Aidan Kim. She's a self-made woman, and it's frankly disgusting how people want to give her achievements to some man." The former Broadway star said in an Instagram Live on Sunday June 4th.

After comments asked for her thoughts on the rejected engagement, Bassi didn't hold back: "y/n, just like every woman, has the right to say no. It's a proposal, not a sentence. Good for everyone who is brave enough to know what they don't want in their lives anymore."

Matilde hasn't walked away unscathed after such brave statements, people have started to crucify her on social media. Comments go from how she doesn't deserve to keep playing Juliet to how they're glad she lives in Italy now so they can't come across her on the street, Bassi is suffering similar repercussions to that of her beloved friend.

Let's remember Matilde and y/n were seen together in Europe in May, enjoying a short break in Rome before attenting the Monaco Grand Prix, where y/n went to see alleged boyfriend Charles Leclerc.

What do you think? Is Matilde Bassi right, or should she have kept her comments to herself and held on to whatever amount of love the public still had for her?

FROM CHISMETIFOSO ON TIKTOK: "THE FERRARI BOYS TALK ABOUT Y/N Y/LN" PT.1 & 2

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝Charles went back to Monaco for the week off before Canada, and stopped to take pictures with fans like he usually does. Someone was brave enough to ask him what was up with y/n, besties, you won't expect what he said.❞

[Charles Leclerc, in english]:❝I am lucky to have a woman like y/n in my life, she's an amazing person and a great friend—[cut off]❞

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝The Carlos video was sent by a fan that met Carlos in Spain, she also asked about y/n and Charles and Carlos assured she's loved by everyone.❞

[Carlos Sainz, in spanish]: ❝y/n is friends with everyone at Ferrari because we spent a lot of time together, I like her a lot she's fun to be around.❞

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝Well, what do you think besties? Are our Ferrari boys on a PR stunt or do they really like certain actress that has brought nothing but drama to the table since they met her?❞

June 7th, Maranello, Italy.

Charles was already having a bad day before they told him about the PR meeting. Although it seemed impossible, this season's car got shittier every time and it made his confidence drop a little more every time he got on it and failed to drive properly. Was winning Monaco really just a lucky strike like everyone kept saying?

Spain was definitely a whole weekend to forget, not only for the shitshow that the Grand Prix had been. He couldn't stop thinking about y/n's panic attack and the way she had cried in his arms that same night.

Charles is not oblivious to everything that is happening around her, and how it did seem to get worse every time. When he first met her, he didn't think it would get to this point where people who didn't even know her would inflict torture and mental abuse on her all day every single day. And although Charles has been through a fair amount of online bullying as a professional athlete and public figure, it's not in the same way that what y/n is being subjected to right now.

"Are you listening, Charles?" the Ferrari PR manager asks, tapping her fingers in front of him, a few drops of coffee jump from his red styrofoam cup and into the white surface.

He nods, uninterested. Charles couldn't care less about whatever the Elix guys have to say. He sees the way the worst of them, Stuart Schaffer, looks at y/n. Lascivious, filthy. Charles has thought about punching him more times than he would like to admit.

There was a whole presentation on how Ferrari is being perceived by fans all over the world right now, touching on several points starting with Carlos and him, the last three races and finally, the people that surround Ferrari.

"Elix is experiencing a drop in sales, and we believe this to be due to a certain public figure that has been seen around the Paddock..." the Elix representative is saying, pointing at a graph that ends at the bottom of the page.

"Maybe it's just that your drink is shit," Charles' mouth is quicker than his brain, and he knows he's completely fucked himself over by the gasps that run through the table. Except for Carlos, Carlos has to hide his laugh with a cough. "I don't know."

The only reason he drank it so often, even when cameras were off, was because he didn't know what to do with his hands when talking to y/n.

"Charles!" the PR manager hisses. There have been several times in which he has earned that hawk-like look from her, but it still fazes him.

Yet, he doesn't back down.

"If you were going to talk about y/n and blame her for whatever disaster is happening with your company, you should have at least asked her to come. Talking behind her back is low."

y/n's absence didn't surprise him, she was back in L.A. first thing Monday. And although he's glad she's not here to listen to these bunch of assholes blaming her for their mistakes, he wishes she was just to see her, to make sure she'll be okay.

His name is passed through the table again in hisses and warnings, and finally he lets go.

"This is your fault too, kid," Stuart Schaffer has his hand in a fist on top of the table, red blotches coloring his face and neck.

Charles loathes the word kid coming out of his mouth. Him and y/n are of similar age, and she's not a 'kid' in his eyes.

"If you weren't fucking that bitch while she had a boyfriend, this wouldn't be happening."

His ears are ringing and he knows it's his face now that's tinted red.

"Get out, please Charles," the manager intervenes before another word can come out of his mouth, or worse, before he reaches Stuart Schaffer with his hands. "Now."

Charles' veins feel on fire as he gets up from his seat and walks out of the conference room. Biting the tip of his tongue so as not to curse Stuart in every single language he knows.

Carlos makes eye contact with him as Charles closes the see-through door and shakes his head. 'They're going to give you so much shit,' his eyes say. And he's right.

The meeting takes an hour more and he's in one of the offices, buzzed with caffeine and bored out of his mind. He has, regretfully, scrolled down the hell that is Twitter. He's even more pissed off than before, and the caffeine is making him desperate to get out of his seat.

“How bad is it?” Charles asks when Carlos crosses the door.

“A little bad,” Carlos isn’t stressed, he even smiles. “For you mostly. But looking at the bright side, no more Elix.”

No more Elix also means no more money from them. Which won’t make a difference, he thinks.

“Thank God,” Charles lets his head fall down the back of the couch. His nape hurts.

“It also means no more y/n,” Carlos’ tone has changed and he’s looking at Charles with that puzzled look that means he wants Charles to expand on his thoughts.

“She can still come if she wants to,” Charles replies, still feigning tranquility. “I’ll give her a pass.”

And he really hopes y/n wants to. Because all he's done lately every time he goes back to the Ferrari Suite during race weekends is look for her around the room, hoping that she'll be looking at him already. It’s like pieces fall into place when it does. He knows he'll miss her if she's not there anymore.

"Yeah, me too," Carlos plops down on the couch next to him, putting his hands behind his neck. "Do you think she's okay?"

Charles shrugs, an impassive gesture that doesn't reflect the turmoil inside his brain and heart. He is worried about her, and has been for a while. "I'm sure she is, she's back in Los Angeles." They have texted often since he left right after the Grand Prix, but it isn't the same as hearing her voice tell him it's alright.

Carlos stares at him for a few seconds more, thinking his next words through. It's not like he doesn't notice the way Charles looks at y/n every time they're in the same room, he also isn't ignorant to the get-together they shared in Monaco—the one Charles shared zero details about—or what happened in Spain when neither made it to dinner.

But he wonders if Charles is aware of how hard he is falling and what kind of a mess he's getting into.

Carlos likes y/n too, although it took them some time to become acquainted. y/n knows how to throw the exact words at him to tease him, she's brilliant, and when people aren't putting her down, her good mood is contagious. She's like sunshine coming through the curtains on a warm morning.

Yet, it's obvious he'll feel more protective over Charles. He knows it's a mistake to spend so much time on social media, not only looking at what people say about himself, but about Charles and y/n, the cruel lies and twisted truths. He has thought about asking Charles whether he's really aware of the way things look to the outsiders, or how they're tearing him down too.

"What is it?" Charles asks, frowning.

Carlos shakes his head. It's not his place to say anything about his infatuation, if that's what this is. "Why don't you give her a call?"

"Yes, I might." Charles nods absently, looking at his lock screen. Pierre has sent him another link to more news about how he's a homewrecker. Pierre calls him 'loverboy' and makes fun of every new article that comes out about y/n and him. Charles hasn't found it entertaining once.

"Charles," the PR manager doesn't have to raise her voice in the silence of the room. "Come here, right now. Please."

"Told you," Carlos mutters, crossing his legs.

Charles groans and gets up. A reprimand isn't the end of the world when his car gets progressively shittier and luck left him a while ago.

And when he's not sure of when he'll see y/n again.

Charles knows he doesn't need to 'fight' in the name of y/n, or that she even would like him to. She warned him weeks ago that he shouldn't get into the nightmare that this situation is. But he'll be damned if he's going to continue letting people put her down at his expense.

y/n is not a damsel in distress, he knows. And standing up for her doesn't make him a knight in shining armor. It makes him a decent human being and a good friend.

Charles thinks really hard about this, way often. Is it okay that his friend makes his heartbeat quicken every time they're together? He feels like a teenager again, with butterflies flying around his stomach when he thinks about her. Not to mention the fact that he's tried to flirt with her several times, to no avail.

There are many things in the world that Charles wishes he could change. His luck, to begin with. But he really wishes things were different when it comes to y/n. He wants her to have peace, he wishes she'd never had to deal with panic attacks or anxiety induced by hate. He wishes they'd met in another time, when things weren't so fragile and the world could stay away from them, and wherever he knows he wants things with her to go.

And he wishes he knew if he's brave enough to deal with all of it.

"Hello?"

The wave of emotion hits him from head to toe and it takes him a moment to catch his breath. He's worse than a teenager, he knows. Charles has never acted this way before, and it makes him vulnerable in a way he doesn't completely dislike, but isn't comfortable with either.

"Hello y/n," he says, after clearing his throat. "I was um– I was just thinking about you."

There is a pause on the other side of the line and Charles looks at the clock on his nightstand. He did the math to figure out the timezones three times, yet he does it again.

"Hi Charles," her voice comes after a sigh of relief, "Were you?"

"Uh– yeah, I– I just wanted to know how you're doing."

Another prolonged silence and Charles adds: "Is that okay?"

y/n chuckles, "Of course it's okay."

"So, how are you?" Charles continues, anxiously pacing around the room. He wants to ask the right questions. "How's L.A.?" maybe that's not one of them.

"Well, it's Lalaland, what can you expect?" there is movement in the background and then a door shuts. "How's Maranello?"

"Well..." Charles isn't sure if Elix has called her already and he doesn't want to be the one to break the news. "The usual. Praying for improvement every week."

"That's something we have in common," y/n's chuckle comes without humor this time. "But I'm going back to New York in a few days, so that's something to look forward to."

Charles smiles. "Do you need any help with moving?"

"Are you flying from Italy to help me move back to New York?" y/n laughs and her genuineness is back.

"I could, if you needed me to."

He has never felt more awkward in his life, or giddier.

"Thank you, Charles. But I have two suitcases with me, I can handle it like a big girl."

It's Charles' turn to laugh, he has stopped pacing. “Just let me know if you need me, y/n.”

“I think I will.” y/n says, and after some consideration: “Can you stay with me on the phone? Just for a little while.”

And Charles is embarrassingly willing to drop everything and stay on the phone for as long as she needs to.

“Yes, sure,” he replies instead, “What do you want to talk about?”

And they talk about everything and nothing. Silly commercials, pet-peeves about airports, favorite colors and long forgotten songs. It takes more than a little while, but neither care about how much time has passed.

It’s not mental gymnastics realizing he likes her. Likes her, likes her. He feels like he’s inside one of her RomComs; already pining for her. What would the name be? Something cheesy and catchy, like 'Racing Hearts'. He likes it. And hates it, too.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” She interrupts her story about the nightmare that Paris was when filming Parisian Valentine, not minding cutting her story short.

Regret comes immediately because he doesn’t know how to fill the silence now, not with the words he wants to say.

That he knows how delicate things are right now. That he likes her for who she has shown him to be and how he is impatient to know even more about her. But he knows he’s probably going to scare her away if those silly words actually come out of his mouth.

“I like talking to you,” Charles says instead. The caffeine hasn't left his system, but he knows the new buzz comes from something else.

“But?” Y/n prompts, he can hear the change in her tone.

“No buts. I like it, I like you.”

“I like you too, Charles.” She says softly, and he pictures the small smile on her face. The one she saves for the times she's one hundred percent comfortable, like when they were at the lake in Monaco.

“And I want you to be okay,”

y/n lets out a shaky breath that makes the microphone crackle. “We are okay, though, aren’t we?” She’s thinking about the tabloids again.

“We are okay. We’ve been on the phone for two hours,” he laughs, and, regretfully, lets out a yawn before he can help it.

“Get some rest, Charlie,” y/n lowers her voice too. “Thank you for staying with me.”

The endearment, although common when people try to be cute to him, sends another wave of giddiness through his body.

"Anytime," he doesn't fight her goodbye because it's a lost cause, especially after he let on his tiredness. "I mean it."

"Thank you," she repeats, "You're a good friend."

Charles smiles, that's enough for now, more than enough for now.

"See you soon, y/n." Charles assures, a smile on his face.

"Goodnight Charlie."

─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! are we loving charles or not? thank you to everyone who lets me know their thoughts and interpretations of Delicate, it's incredibly motivating for me to keep writing and it makes me super happy! if you're a ghost reader, i also appreciate you, but don't be shy to interact♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar-2 @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxula @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorrizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste

want to join the paddock club? click here!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x you #cl16 fanfic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

Text

jollibee, madrid and all that romance fiasco ! oscar p. x ofc (filipino!gen z!ofc)

summary: carlos sainz and his wife, magda, were heading back to spain after taking her and her cousins to the final race before the summer break. they hoped to have a decent break but their wishes were long gone as soon as the mclaren drivers told them about their plans to spend their week in madrid - where the couple conveniently lived.

OR oscar piastri had the fattest crush on magda's cousin, paloma 'lomi' san pedro, and needless to say, he wasn't even making it less obvious as he purchased a ticket to madrid just so he could spend his time with her. was he only looking for that summer romance or did he just fall in love with carlos' in-law?

content warning: use of explicit language, oscar and ofc shitting on each other, tagalog dialogues and translation ahead (i'm not as good as i used to be at speaking it, sorry lads), carlos sainz x ofc, mentions of alcohol use, fictional brother character (niño san pedro), carlos has a close relationship with his in-laws, A LOT OF JOLLIBEE, lando norris and oscar piastri being cultured (filipino), filo humour, lowkey protective!carlos

note: melody is in progress and i gotta let this out because i've been looking at too much unhinged filipino memes today. enjoy xx

masterlist

tagged carlossainzjr, charles_leclerc, landonorris, monamagdalena, ninojames

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, charles_leclerc

monamagdalena "rich in-law" 😭 liked by lomisanpedro

carlossainzjr you weren't "forced" to wear my number 🙄 get it right hermana liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro ur right. i asked for charles' number and they just conveniently "ran out" of my size 🤔

landonorris look at that handsome man in papaya and black tho 🥵 liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro i'm gonna pretend i haven't seen this comment 😕

landonorris guys i think she's a charles leclerc fan liked and pinned by lomisanpedro

oscarpiastri i have a lot of oscar piastri shirts in your size 😊 liked by lomisanpedro

ninojames what 😄

lomisanpedro how do u know my size 🧐

oscarpiastri i've been looking, observing and mentally measuring

carlossainzjr oscarpiastri compadre do you wanna repeat what you just said?

landonorris don't mind me i'm just watching 🍿🥤

logansargeant so you're the girl he's ogling throughout the week??? liked by lomisanpedro

lomisanpedro and you're the florida boy? 🤓

logansargeant fair enough. nice to meet you though 🤠

lomisanpedro likewise sarge 🤠

carlossainzjr posted a new story !!!

tagged ninojames, lomisanpedro, landonorris, oscarpiastri, carlossainzjr

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, georgerussell63

user1 i just know it hits different spending your vacation in a filipino-spanish household 😭 liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena there's a lot of "ordinary" volume arguments that's for sure 😅

user2 rip oscar's vocal chords. i know it's barely there but it must've abandoned him the moment the sainz-san pedros pulled up the karaoke liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena landonorris might have slipped some tequila to get the party going for oscar 🙃

mclarenf1 lando we taught you better than this

landonorris mclarenf1 what happened to "one more shot lando!"

mclarenf1 i don't like these accusations, lando.

user3 i can just imagine lando, carlos and oscar yelling "THAT'S NOT HOW DRS WORKS" at your cousins lmfaooo 🤣 liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena yeah my cousins live to give carlitos a headache every once in a while - seeing as they live in philippines and all

carlossainzjr we should have a daycare, mi corazon, because we don't get paid enough for this liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena i agree bebe, if anything we lose more than we earn money 🥲

ninojames stop lying to me carlossainzjr you literally helped me get my tourist visa because you said "you wanted to see your favourite cousin"

lomisanpedro oop- lemme just send this to caco rq 🤭

carlossainzjr ay lomisanpedro you do that, i'm not gonna set up the ac in your room 😒 see how long you'll withstand the heat in spain

lomisanpedro i live in ph but yes po master 😇

lomisanpedro if i have to go golfing one more time, i'm gonna hit you with the club landonorris carlossainzjr ninojames

ninojames speak for urself lmfao

landonorris it's ok i can take it paloma 🤪

carlossainzjr watch your words landonorris

landonorris that's not what i meant ??? 🤬

oscarpiastri barca did good last night no? liked by monamagdalena

monamagdalena heheheh carlossainzjr what do you think?

lomisanpedro carlossainzjr you should've shot him in the foot with the paintball when you had the chance 🤡

carlossainzjr i really should have.

landonorris that's tactical and against the fia rules carlos know better.

mclarenf1 yeah what landonorris said ^^

oscarpiastri that is incredibly mean of you, lomisanpedro 🥲

lomisanpedro show me how you cry rq??

tagged landonorris, oscarpiastri, lomisanpedro

liked by carlossainzjr and monamagdalena

monamagdalena putang ina pati pa naman sa spain, y'an pa din kinakain niyo? what the fuck, that's (jollibee) what you guys are still eating even in spain? liked by ninojames

ninojames patingin nga kung pa'no yung galit na mukha ate hahahaha ate, show me how you make an angry face

lomisanpedro ba't ka inggit lmaooooo why are you jealous

monamagdalena hoy lomi at niño, nagluto ako kanina di niyo ba kinain 'yon? i cooked earlier today, didn't you guys eat it?

lomisanpedro maarte yung mga bisita mo madam bertud. your guests are picky, madam bertud.

oscarpiastri monamagdalena I AM NOT picky, do not listen to what that gremlin is telling you

landonorris we ate and even washed the pot of sinigang so that gremlin is lying

lomisanpedro this gremlin is her cousin and how tf do y'all know what we're saying-

landonorris we're very smart men

oscarpiastri i'm a diplomat on the side

carlossainzjr NIÑO YOU AND LANDO JUST RACKED UP OUR BILL FOR DOING THAT TO OUR OVEN 🤬 liked by ninojames

ninojames lando was teaching me his dj skills 😕

carlossainzjr DONT MESS WITH THE OVEN LANDOOOO

landonorris we were trying to get lit 😭 you literally had nothing in there but uno and monopoly wtf were we supposed to do???

carlossainzjr i don't know? not play with fire and not rack up our house bill?

oscarpiastri are we having a filipino language session tomorrow then? liked by ninojames

ninojames with tequila?

oscarpiastri i found their stash so yeah with tequila- we should get some bucket of chickens for the session too :)

landonorris wag puro pulutan, dapat inom din. don't just eat, you have to drink too. liked and pinned by ninojames

lomisanpedro I HAVE TAUGHT YOU WELL, YOUNG PADAWAN 🤩

ninojames monamagdalena rate my teaching skills ate magda

monamagdalena what are you guys teaching these two??? 😭

oscarpiastri the basics magda 😊

INCOMING: dog show 😎 (oscar) SENDER: my pal(oma) 🐝 (paloma)

tagged jollibee, lomisanpedro

liked by carlossainzjr, logansargeant, landonorris

user1 BRO HARD LAUNCHED HIS CRUSH WTF 😭 what god did you pray to?

user2 puro jollibee si bro edi sana nag pinas ka na lang 😭 bro eats a lot of jollibee like you should've just gone to philippines instead

user3 madrid is paloma san pedro, in case you guys didn't know 🤭

landonorris god you are so whipped

mclarenf1 jollibee x mclaren when? 👀

jollibee when there's a philippine grand prix 🐝

ninojames oh so you ditched our session for this? for this ugly ass? liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri we got some palabok and two buckets of chicken joy and we're otw home 😅

ninojames ok maybe i can let you slip for once

lomisanpedro you are so annoying liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri annoyingly considerate when it comes to you because you wanted jollibee this morning 🤭😊

user4 there is too much filipino rizz within pastry guys i think he wins this one

logansargeant was this why you've been rejecting my facetimes today?

oscarpiastri you can wait. jollibee can't.

user5 i'm sorry logan but i agree with him this time

user6 him tagging jollibee 😭 this man is clearly obsessed

bonus !!!

PS the fictional san pedro people

ramona magdalena 'magda' (ibañez) san pedro sainz (carlos' wife)

niño james (balagtas) san pedro (carlos' cousin-in-law)

paloma 'lomi' (balagtas) san pedro (also carlos' in-law)

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the-ellia-west · 5 months ago

Text

INTRO POST!!1!!!!!1!

Hello! I'm Ellia! Welcome to my weird-ass writeblr blog! Here's some things to know about me:

I am an Aspiring author and Devoted Christian Woman. I live in the USA (CDT time zone) I am a minor, and the only other language I know is some very spotty spanish.

I mainly write Fantasy, and I'm working on four main projects (Listed Below)!

I like: Jesus, Bright Colors, People, Writing, Reading, Cats, Music, Warm Weather, Rain, Flowers, Dresses, and my Moots!

I Dislike: The texture of wool, Heavy Lifting, Baked Beans, Sin, Satan, Demons, and the Time Travel Trope

Hey! Pst! Before you continue! I have a side blog! Check out @jakkon-and-rose-topic if you want to read some stuff!

Tags:

Ellia Writes - Any talking or sharing of any aspect of any of my WIPs

Ellia's Construction Company - How I make stuff, tutorials, ect.

Ghost Party - Chatting and geeking out with my friends/Moots

Ellia answers - Answering questions

Ellia's Rambling - Me talking about stuff (a little too much)

Ellia's Haunted house - Any posts that I could slot into my story and character/world building. And my pile of creations (Including shitposts)

Ellia's mind palace - Stuff I'm adding to my mental Library :]

Ghost gardens - Aesthetic Pictures and stuff

Ghost scribbles - Art/Drawing Practice

My Wips:

TCOT - (The Cursed One's Throne) - TCOT is a low fantasy Novel Series I have been working on for 5 years, and I hope to publish in the next year, and the Main Wip I will work on and talk about on this blog (Tags: #elliatcot, #ellia tcot, #ellia's tcot, #the cursed one's throne)

J&R - (Placeholder Title) - High fantasy Adventure with Sass, spunk, and a heck of a lot of conflict (To be turned into a comic one day)

StF - (Steel and Feathers) - StF is a High Fantasy project about a Chosen one And stuff (Tags: #stf, #elliastf, #ellia'sstf, #ellia stf, #ellia stf)

Fallen - (That's the title) - A High Fantasy Romance between a Runaway Noble and a Disgraced (probably Criminal) (Tags: #elliafallen, #ellia'sfallen, #ellia fallen, #ellia's fallen, #rustpearl)

StF Short story Masterpost!

Alkain - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Raavas - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 3.5

Old Pinned post Copy-paste below (followed by my moots)

------------------------------------ Hey there! Hi! You! Tumblr user!

Are you a fan of epic fantasy? Want a story with romance, action, and sassy heroes and villains? How about some good old-fashioned ANGST?

If so, you're in luck! Get ready for the upcoming release of The Cursed One's Throne (TCOT for short), coming... well, eventually!

A story of trauma, war, recovery, trust, and love intertwined with curses, magic, sacrifice, and a few too little hours of sleep. Who needs a release date when you've got me, the very entertaining author, right?

------------------------------------

Wtf is TCOT?

TCOT sneak Peek

Worldbuilding

Music

TCOT Ships

Post this comes from

✨️Moots✨️💫

@agirlandherquill - HER WORDS ARE ART, GO FOLLOW NOW

@aredeemantagonist - Fun to talk to! AMAZING IDEASSS

@artsandstoriesandstuff - AWESOME ARTIST WITH AMAZINGLY CREATIVE IDEAS, FOLLOW THEM NOW!!!

@bigwipscholar - Yes

@bloodmoonloveletter - Slay

@blue-kyber - READ IT ALL

@corinneglass - Why is she so amazing and sweet?!??!? I do not deserve her 😔

@cosmolumine - Extremely Creative with wonderful ideas you can't help but get hooked on :]

@cybercelestian - I don't talk to her as much as I'd like to, but I live her <333

@darkandstormydolls - AN AMAZING WRITER, Her research on medieval clothing and settings is really cool and useful too! <3

@fantastictrashpolice - I need to talk to her more often too because she is very sweet and wonderful <3

@homelessnerdwrites - Very kind and wonderful, and I don't think I've seen any of her writing yet but she still ROCKS!!!

@i-hate-happy-endings - A wonderful author with FANTASTIC ideas that you all should check out!!

@illarian-rambling - ALL OF HER IDEAS MAKE ME WANT TO SCREAM, I WISH I COULD BE THIS CREATIVE AND WONDERFUL

@lunaeuphternal - A wonderful friend who I don't speak to often but is an amazing person you should check out!

@pastellbg - A Wonderful artist and friend all of you Need to follow!!!! (Slay Queen)

@phoenixradiant - His ideas and writing is amazing and poetic in EVERY SINGLE WORD he chooses

@rivenantiqnerd - YES

@savepoint-has-died - ALSO YES

@sl-vega

@somethingclevermahogony

@sunflowerrosy - Why does she follow me, I am so LAME?!?@?@?

@sunglasses-in-the-bentley - My beloved adopted daughter who deserves all the attention :]]]

@supercimi - A WONDERFUL friend with ALL the Amazing ideas you could wish for

@thecoolerlucky

@thelazywitchphotographer

@thepeculiarbird - Amazing Artist, I deeply admire her every word and movement

@urnumber1star - The author I can only wish to be 😔✊️ Follow Her

@vyuntspakhkite-l-darling - THE MOST CREATIVE AND WONDERFUL AND AMAZING IDEAS I THINK I HAVE EVER SEEN

If you made it all the way to the end, have a wonderful day, don't forget to drink water, have a little snack, sleep, take a walk, and Don't forget that I love you :] <3333

#creative writing #fiction writing #writing community #writer things #writerscommunity #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writer

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spotsandsocks · 7 months ago

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @tizniz @diazsdimples @wikiangela @hippolotamus @bi-buckrights @exhuastedpigeon Thank you lovelies 💖

How many works do you have on ao3?

89 that’s not too shabby is it. Three years of writing this summer.

What's your total ao3 word count?

902,255 that is quite a few words isn’t it.

What fandoms do you write for?

911

Top five fics by kudos:

If You Break It 3.2k Chris overhears a something and gets upset, then he tells Buck who gets upset too.

They say the Truth will set you free 2.3K Buck get a dose of something at work and gets emotional and chatty

Could Have Should Have Would Have 3.2k an unexpected“I love you” but it’s too late. Isn’t it?

Just Ask 1.7K Eddie's having thoughts, he wants to touch. Buck's ok with that, all Eddie has to do is ask.

Looking from the outside 2.4K TWhat happens when everyone you meet thinks you’re married to your perfectly platonic best friend. Most of these are quite old now, I think I’ve written some just as good or even better but fics don’t seem to get as much kudos these days

Do you respond to comments?

yes everyone is really important to me

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

No fics really end angsty round here but this one’s pretty emotional along the way.

Alone With Your Thoughts Buck gets very badly hurt (for plot reasons) and trying hard to stay alive he realises he’s not as alone as he thought.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

See above! All happy can’t choose the happiest.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet- think I’m too small to get noticed maybe!

Do you write smut?

Um yes I certainly do 😏 and quite well I like to think 😉 in fact an example will be popping along in FIF shortly

Craziest crossover:

Nope - now AUs is a different story

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of! Can’t imagine anyone noticing my fics enough to steal them

Have you ever had a fic translate

Someone asked to once but who knows!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope

All time favourite ship?

Gotta be buddie hasnt it. They just inspire me

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of my wips languish right now and are crying out for attention but I fully intend to finish them all. I do!

What are your writing strengths?

Not sure?! I think my more canon style fics are quite consistent with the characters in the show. Think that I’m pretty good with a complicated plot but you tell me?? I like the way I can wrap a bit of humor around the more tense bits too.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Long sentences? An over enthusiasm for the comma? Too long? Poor tagging?

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Maybe controversial but I’m not a huge fan of eddie using Spanish terms of endearment in fics. If he ever does it in show I’ll feel better about it, but it doesn’t actually feel very him, apart from that I don’t mind

First fandom you wrote in?

911

Favourite fic you've written?

How can I chose!! But these old chestnuts I’ve gone on about before but I, very proud of them actually

The Lost and The Found werewolf/shifter au

Good Knight Sweet Prince Prince/knight au

Tied To You From The Start smutty paranormal shenanigans

And obviously dragonriders au… see FIF post shortly

Thanks for tags you lovely lovely people you’re all so so talented I adore you you make my days so much brighter ☀️💜☀️

@rogerzsteven @hoodie-buck @thekristen999 @loserdiaz @weewootruck

@shipperqueen6 @stagefoureddiediaz @underwaterninja13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990

@bidisasterevankinard @bekkachaos @elvensorceress @rainbow-nerdss @honestlydarkprincess

@saybiwithme @loveyouanyway @lover-of-mine @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33

@monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @shortsighted-owl @fiona-fififi @the-likesofus

#buddie #buddie fic #fic writer game #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #911fic

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elbiotipo · 6 months ago

Note

So when it comes to distance in a fictional setting, is metric king? I wrote some fantasy post-apoc recently where the protagonist measured it in Oranges and Aevums (the latter being their own name), but more generally speaking is it worth it to hash out bespoke measurement systems for fictional cultures, do you think?

Oranges as a measurement unit sounds so funny, and a measurement based in... yourself makes surprising sense, given all the measurements based on body parts. Why not YOURSELF?

Well, I would think in a real post-apoc world metric would be king indeed, scientific and technologic instruments are in metric even in the US and you could always get a ruler from a school or scales from a grocery store, so eventually you could get back on track to reforming the metric system. It would be interesting, though, if every society during isolation had slightly different measurements for the same units because of faulty equipment (say, ohms or amperes or even grays) and they had to make a congress to clear things up.

Returning to your main question. My perspective here is the same as conlangs. It's very, very fun to have them, but it's not fun to force your audience to read them. When I write something set in a fantasy or science fiction setting, in my head I'm assuming the characters are speaking different languages and I DO explain them and even give examples of them, but the story itself is written, for both the reader's and the writer convenience, in a language we can understand (Spanish in my case, and then it can be translated). Same with units of measurement. I seldom use direct units of measurement like writing "the ship was 110.3 meters long" (in science fiction, it's often a trap as they force you to stay true to them), when more descriptive language can be used...

In any case, you could do, for the kind of immersion I love, say something like "she was 14 oranges* tall, rather small for her age" and do an asterisk like "*A.N. : 1.39 meters tall". This is very fun when used sparingly, because it gives the worldbuilding obessed reader something to play with, you can do the conversion yourself and learn more about the world, without interrupting the story. Some understandably dislike this approach, but I think that if you know what you're doing, you can hide some pretty deep lore behind it. In one of my favorite retro games, The Ur-Quan Masters, there is an alien race called the Slylandro who live in a gas giant. When they tell you their ancient history, they use their own system of measurment based on the rotation of their planet with its own names like Dranhasa and Dranh. The game actually provides you with the rotation time on "Earth" time, so some dedicated fans did the conversion, and found out the dates fit with major events in the game's past. I thought that was an awesome bit.

But I digress again. Does this mean you should not talk about measurements in your story? No, it can do for very fun plots and digressions, as well as make things more realistic and beliveable. A fantasy world sharing all the same measurement units can be as unplausible as everybody speaking "Common". Let's remember that the current metric system is a modern invention which took a long time to be adopted (and some, well one, country, still resists it). Just take a look at the many, many historical systems of measurement:

This was especially prominent in places like the Holy Roman Empire, where every statelet, county, principality, free city, prince-bishopric, duchy, archduchy, etc. may and most often did have different measurements from each other. Just take a look at how measurements varied from each German region, it's crazy. The systems of weight where particularily important. Before the introduction of standarized coinage, coins also varied not only between kingdoms, but between regions, and even towns, and coins made at different times with different alloys had different values. Rather than money in our modern sense, you could think of them as some kind of 'asset' that could vary in value depending on the circumstances. What's more, those values had to be checked by people who knew what they were working with. Silver and gold content could be weighed, ah, but you need good scales and weights, and someone who knows how to work them! And these people could easily rip you off, or you could lose value accidentally if those scales weren't done just right or fiddled with on purpose. In fact, this is where the word 'Mark' comes from.

It wasn't as easy to take say a 100 something bill and get the change in 1 something coins. There is a very interesting subplot in the anime Spice and Wolf where Lawrence, the trader character, has been paid in gold coins, and he has to trade them into lesser denominations. However, he has to be REAL careful so that nobody scams him given all I told you above. Even getting 'gold' coins was a gamble before modern coinage and banking (another long topic). How much of that is REALLY gold and not an alloy with silver or other metal? Who can you trust to tell you how much your coins are worth? Are they compatible between borders or even time, is this version worth as much as the others? Things that characters in fantasy who have just plundered a dragon's hoard almost never think about. Except in Spice and Wolf.

(here is a gif of Holo to break the wall of text)

This all of course, as again you can see in Spice and Wolf, can make trade very tedious and even unstable. This was one of the reasons why the metric system was so quickly adopted in Europe and then elsewhere; consistent units just allow for easier trade. Lots of other things involving measurement can have a major impact on your story. For one, you NEED consistent and accurate measurement to create even the most basic industrial and scientific equipment. You can wing it for a time like alchemists (and even they knew their measurements) but eventually, you need to measure things to understand them. To have working steam engines, steel production, chemical industries and more, you need to know your temperature is. If you want to do electricity, you need measurements for current, resistance and charge. If you're doing engineering, you need to have lenght, weight and volume very, very clear, or people will die. They don't necessarily need to be universal like the metric system (though it has lots of advantages, being coherent between units and decimal so it doesn't jump between different denominations) but they need to be standarized and measurable.

Most of the above, unless you're writing some kind of encyclopedia about a fictional scientific revolution (BASED BASED BASED) will not affect your characters directly. But IT IS worth keeping in mind for what kind of world your characters are living in. The standarization of measurement units always means SOMETHING in the state of your society, the strenght of the state and centralized authority, the state of scientific understanding (one could say that trying to measure the world was perhaps THE scientific revolution, "Man as a measure of all things"), the capability for industry and the standarization of coinage and trade.

Even if you don't have your characters interact directly with those things, they will interact with them. It's also, like I've said in the examples, fun to imagine characters having to learn or deal with different units of measurement, just as it is fun to imagine them learning new languages or cultural quirks. It's something I've done in the past, in my space opera setting, the worlds descended from the United States STILL use the imperial system, much to the frustration of the rest of the metric human sphere. There is also an alien character who has a hard time to learn human measurements, and that makes her melancholic about her past, as they can't intuitively see the now-extinct measurements she does. Again, man as a measure of all things... this does include other thinking beings...

There's more I could talk about here regarding time, but I did a post about that, though I'm not satisfied with it and will probably redo it in some time at the future. In any case, there's lot to talk about why every calendar in science fiction has 365 days and 24 hours.

As always, if you found this interesting and helpful, I would be very thankful if you gave a tip to my ko-fi! And feel free to ask about anything you'd like!

#worldbuilding #measurements #conlanging #writing #writer advice

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read-and-write- · 15 days ago

Text

A few ramblings about fanfic and learning to write it

I have this voice in my head that I can't get rid off telling me lately that my fics are not good enough, a combination of the general insecurity of posting something smutty for the first time and the general lack of engagement, that unfortunately affects me, despite repeating to myself 1000x per day that numbers don't make a fic good.

So I think "What if I just stop writing this and go back to what I normally do? What if I just convince myself again that I can't do this?" But I don't want any of those things.

The thing is, if I stop trying to write smut because it's not "good enough" then I will never write because it will never be good enough if I don't ever try. So I have, I want, to keep writing, because not only I have the right to learn but I deserve it, I (and everyone) deserve to have fun while exploring what my own writing voice sounds like while writing explicit fics, or horror, or a new POV, a new genre, anything.

I started writing fic in Spanish at 13, roughly 10 years ago (yes I am indeed a gen z)and I wrote terrible quality pieces in my school notebooks. But I learnt from it. And I had so much fun it awakened something in me. I started to love fanfic and writing, I would fill notebooks with stories and always enter the world of a new piece of media through what people created from it.

I started writing in English at 15, way before I could call myself bilingual, way before I was able to read a full YA book in English without struggling or watch a full movie without subtitles, I didn't have nearly as much of a grasp on the English language as I do now, but that didn't stop me and I learnt so much from it. And I had fun, no matter if I couldn't differentiate between in/on/at (I still can't sometimes)

So, seeing as I didn't let a whole language barrier stop me, I am damn sure I'm not letting an imaginary voice in my head and an arbitrary method to measure my worth determine whether I should keep writing or not, the real measure is me enjoying and as long as I'm enjoying it then I'm going to keep doing it.

With Red, White and Royal Blue I have written more fics that I've written since the pandemic, I have met so much people I am very glad to call my friends, I've connected with incredibly talented writers who have also become my friends, beta readers, cheerleaders, people who tag me in Tumblr games, names that I see frequently on my daily "you've got Kudos!" email.

And I'm going to keep writing because I love it, because I love the people and I love the stories, and I still have a lot of stories to tell.

And if someone else feels the same way, I hope you keep writing too.

And that's the end, if you read this, I love you, I don't care who you are. And now we go back to our regular scheduled programming: gay fic.

#ramblings #fanfiction #don't perceived me much #i just needed to put it out there #in a place where probably I will see it in a few years #and go #“damn past me was onto something”#i feel like you can truly see that i have a communications degree here

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reverie-starlight · 2 years ago

Note

hello ^^ May i request night routine with semi, oikawa and suna?

of course! this is so cute, I love it!! also I wasn't sure if you wanted HCs or not, so I did a little drabble/scenario for each <3 also, oikawa’s ended up being MUCH longer than semi and suna’s and for that i’m sorry, i just had so much fun writing his section.

also I’m SO sorry this took months to post, I’ve been extremely busy with midterms and exams and school in general. Thank you so much for requesting!

{nightly routines with them- suna, oikawa and semi}

warnings: none! just fluff. and i’m sucker for oikawa using spanish pet-names after learning the language and living in argentina, so shush let me enjoy it.

gn!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

suna

You checked the time on your phone and sighed. It was getting late, but you didn’t want to move from your position on top of your boyfriend. His hand stopped running along your back. You made a noise of protest and buried your face further into his neck. He chuckled.

“Y/n, we should start getting ready for bed. We both have an early start tomorrow.”

You frowned and shook your head. “No. Please, can we just stay here for five more minutes? I’m so tired.”

“I’ll carry you to the bedroom if you’re that tired, baby, but we really do need to get ready.”

“Fine, I guess.”

There was some shuffling and murmured apologies as Suna got up and disrupted your comfortable position, then you were up in his arms and being carried away.

This is often how nights with your boyfriend started- one too tired to leave the couch the other dragging them to get ready. It had been integrated into your nightly routine at this point.

He plopped you down to the bed and kissed you on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

You reached out for him and took his hand. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To get the bathroom ready so we can get our routine done? Are you that tired that you forgot?” He teased, snickering when you swatted his finger away from your face with the hand you were holding.

“I don’t want you to go, though, can’t we skip it tonight?”

“Baby, you’re going to be frustrated tomorrow when you realize you went to bed without doing it.”

“But I don’t want you to be far awayyyy,” you dragged on and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’ll carry you there, then, you clingy baby. But we’re not skipping a day.” He picked you back up from the bed and journeyed to the bathroom.

“Mhm, I love you, Rin.”

“Love you too.”

He sat you down on the counter and kissed your cheek. “Open,” he requested.

You obliged, and he started brushing your teeth for you, making sure to be gentle while still doing a good job. When he was finished with that, you rinsed your mouth out and leaned against him as he brushed his own teeth.

He sighed as you nuzzled into his neck, fairly certain you were falling asleep on him again. If his mouth wasn’t full of toothpaste he definitely would have given into the urge to kiss your head. He rinsed and wiped his mouth. Since you were facing the other way, you couldn’t see the slight smile on his face or the adoring look in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around you and stared at the sight in the mirror, eternally grateful that he was lucky enough to spend yet another night with the love of his life.

oikawa

Nights with Oikawa had become... chaotic since moving in together in the best way possible. You had your doubts that this part of your routine wouldn’t get old quick, but nearly a year later you were still taking part in this silly little tradition that you both adored.

You tried to be nonchalant as you looked at the time on your phone. It was getting late now, and in the Oikawa-L/n household that only meant the games were about to begin. You felt bad for your neighbours downstairs who had to put up with this at least four times a week.

“Tooru, can you get me some water please?”

“Of course, my love, with ice?”

“Sure, thank you.”

The second he was out of sight, you were sneaking off to the bathroom. If you could just get there undetected, you might have a chance at winning-

“Going somewhere?”

You shrieked and looked over to where the voice came from.

There he was, leaning against the wall with an annoying smirk and a quirked eyebrow, water in hand. “Did you seriously think I would fall for the water trick? You did this last month too... are you running out of ways to best me, beautiful?”

You scowled. “I am not, I was just retesting it.”

Truthfully, you knew he’d catch on- he was insanely observant, sometimes to his own detriment, and slightly cocky, too. That’s exactly why you had to use it to your advantage to win your little game. He needed to be humbled after almost a month of consecutive wins.

He was clever but you knew how to work around it almost better than anyone.

Taking the water from him, you rolled your eyes as he laughed. “Retesting it, right. Are you sure you’re not just getting complacent? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoy losing to me, baby.”

He lead you back to the couch and sat you down. “Oh please, you wish. Besides, how do you know I haven’t just been letting you win?”

“We both know you’re way too competitive for that, my love, but it’s a nice sentiment.”

You grumbled under your breath and took a small sip of your water. He’d eat his words by the end of the night and you’d be living like royalty for the next 24 hours.

Honestly, you lost sight of the rules after a month of your game. It wasn’t even really anything serious, just a little bit of fun- a way to keep up the playfulness in your relationship. And despite the teasing and your determination to win, neither of you ever took it so far that it turned into resentment.

It was only a race to see who could finish their routine and get under the covers first, after all.

Some nights were more strategic and planned out, others were just straight up feral. It really depended on the mood of the instigator (it was pretty evenly split between you and Oikawa starting it from night to night).

Tonight you were going for a mixed approach.

“Tooru, I love you.”

He smiled over at you. “I love you too, Y/n. So much.”

“So much,” you agreed. “Keep that in mind, please.”

He side eyed you. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you said, slowly getting up from the couch, him following suit almost immediately.

You took a sip of your water again. “Hmm, it’s perfect, thank you baby.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Don’t you da-” he was cut off by some water being splashed in his face.

You wasted no time running for the bathroom, cackling the whole way as your boyfriend took off after you. “You’re going to pay for that!”

The adrenaline pumping through you right before bed was worth the past few days of purposefully losing and biting back remarks that would give you away.

You squealed as you felt a hand grab at you from behind and you tried to shut the bedroom door, but Oikawa was a pro athlete. He easily opened it against your full weight and lunged for you.

You giggled and dodged, running to the bathroom and starting on your face. He came in two seconds later and grabbed your hands. You struggled against him, trying to get your facewipes back, but he pinched your sides and you gave up on that idea pretty quickly.

He picked you up and pulled you into the shower, laughing along with you. “If I had to get wet, so do you! Stop squirming!”

You couldn’t even put up a fight with how hard you were laughing at that point. He stood with you under the water, shoulders shaking and trying to catch his breath.

He finally composed himself a couple seconds before you did and all he could do was admire you. The sound of your laugh was music to his ears and your smile was contagious. Even with messy hair and soaking wet clothes, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

“I’m sorry I splashed water in your face,” you said through the last of your giggles.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into the shower while you still had your clothes on.”

You shrugged and started pulling them off. “I had to shower tomorrow morning anyway, now I can sleep in a bit longer.”

He followed suit once again. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, I’m feeling a little clingy now, actually. I love you so much.” You wrapped your arms around him and pecked his cheek.

“I love you too, mi vida.”

semi

It was already hours past when you had said goodnight the first time, but you just couldn’t fall asleep. After a while of tossing and turning, you decided to wake your fiancé up.

“Mmm, what’s wrong? You okay?” He sat up when he felt you shaking him and rubbed his eyes then leaned over to turn a light on so he could see you better.

“I can’t sleep. I’m tired, but every time I think I’m about to drift off I wake back up.” You said with tears in your eyes. Not being able to sleep when you’re exhausted was extremely frustrating.

He frowned and stroked your cheek in sympathy. “I’m sorry baby, you should have woken me up sooner.”

“You were so peaceful, I didn’t wanna disturb you. I’m just all out of ideas on what to do now.” You leaned into his hand and his heart fluttered.

He thought for a moment. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and wash your face with warm water. It should soothe you a bit. I’ll have something ready for you when you get back.”

You pouted. “You don’t have to get up, it’s okay. I don’t want to make it harder for you to get back to sleep.”

“No, don’t worry about me, sweetheart, I just want to make things better for you. Meet me back here, okay?”

You nodded and went to wash your face. Five minutes later, you were drying your hands and focusing on the warmth of your freshly rinsed skin.

“Baby, are you almost done?”

“Yeah, I’m coming now!” You called from the bathroom.

When you walked out into the bedroom, you were greeted with a smile from your fiancé. He was ready and waiting for you on the bed with his guitar in hand.

“You’re gonna play for me?” You cuddled into his side after getting back into bed.

“Mhm, you’ve said before it relaxes you when I play. I thought we could give it a try tonight.”

You thought back to all the times he’s played for you before and how you always felt a wave of calm wash over you. You nodded up at him and got comfortable, still attached to his side.

He began playing a slow, soft melody that you recognized as one of the first songs he ever wrote for you in the early days of your relationship. He hummed along to it and you felt it from where your head was on his chest. The vibrations mixed with his voice and the guitar were enough to get you sleepy, and this time you were able to drift off without any issues.

When he noticed you were finally asleep, he carefully set his guitar down under the bed and slowly shifted so he was lying down with you. He reached over to turn the light off.

He kissed the top of your head. “Goodnight, baby, sweet dreams.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#suna x reader fluff #oikawa x reader fluff #semi x reader fluff #suna fluff #oikawa fluff #semi eita fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #suna x reader #oikawa x reader #semi eita x reader #reverie requests

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ravengards-rogue · 7 months ago

Text

i lose control (when you're not next to me.)

javier escuella x reader

✧ tags : afab + fem!reader (gendered language + wearing dresses etc), established relationship, religious imagery (maybe sacrilege)takes place in ch.4 of rdr2, submissive!reader, soft dom!javier, some spanish petnames (mi amor mi vida, and hermosa i think), pillowing humping, penetration, very lovesick sex lol, veryy established dynamic, praise kink, written like. sooo explicitly for @nanamimizz, 18+

✧ wc : 5.2k (after editing mind you)

✧ a/n : this is fucking nuts LMAOO. i wrote this like. no bullshit in a day. i don't know how that happened. mentioned in the tags that this is for my beloved best friend but i think it's still okay to post. im losing it a little. i have hw due in an hour

✧ synopsis : javier can't help but feel some ways about the way you miss him. so dreadfully obedient. so apparently needy. how could he not adore you?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

There’s something a little pathetic in the way you pine after Javier that makes him a worse man than he is.

He’s good to you though. Always. Down to his bones, the core of him. The soul of him. It’s hard to be anything but good to you.

In all of his life, across lovers, men and women - he doesn’t think he’s met a single soul who simply likes him as much as you do. Who preens so pretty with so little, who doesn’t need much at all. Never met a woman who tucks and folds herself into corners just to be polite. Never thought he’d find it so fascinating, either - but you prove him wrong often.

It’s testament to Javier’s adoration that he can’t help but notice you anyway. That even when your featherlight footsteps and darling voice fall off and get caught on the wind and blown away - Javier will still manage to find you. Even with all of your attempts to make yourself small and unrecognizable, his sharp brown eyes will still catch on the linen of your skirts and the threaded gold of your cross necklace. Javier’s own body betrays him in his love for you, in his wanting.

Even though he’s not interested in pretending he doesn’t love you, his eyes and mouth and hands would look and call and search. They’d never give him the opportunity to be anything but in love.

It’s important that he makes that known. He’s only ever interested in being a good man to you. Holding you and kissing you and worshiping you until you’re melty between his fingers. Javier loves loving the resistance out of you and you always make it so easy for him.

He’s a good lover by nature and by practice. Passionate and maybe a little conceited, it’s not his first brush with romantics. He can only hope it’ll be his last.

Even so, he’s never been liked the way you like him.

You like Javier in a way you seem embarrassed by when you remember. It causes you to act in ways out of character on the surface, emboldened. Maybe just needy. Enough to bask in his praise and affection once a little liquor has touched your mouth. You like Javier in a way that makes you lovesick and puppylike, all honeyed gazes and pouty lips. He’s never met somebody who likes him the way you do, without grandstanding. Just pure, puppy love. Almost innocent if you don’t look too long.

Almost being what matters most.

Javier knows the way you were raised, after all. Knows the intimate ways in which you fold yourself and tuck your wants between the pages of your diary and slip your requests under your tongue. It’s hard for you to want for anything too much because you’ve been told your whole life that wanting at all is a sin. Wanting may even get you killed. A good woman should want nothing but salvation. Anything more than that is indulgence and there’s nothing good about that. It translates in the way you carry yourself. You’ll stop and fumble and shy away before even fixing your lips to ask, like you’re planning on being rejected or told no.

A good girl like you being told no so often, it’s made you all sacrifice and empty prayers. Javier often feels grief about your lives before each other but nothing makes it so evident as that. A good woman, a beautiful and kind and soft one like you should never hear the words no without the best of reasons. That’s what Javier believes for all of his lovers, but you’re special.

And that makes it worse.

For you he’d do anything. No price he wouldn’t pay, no place he wouldn’t go, nothing that’s too far out of his reach. He thinks maybe he’s so eager to give it to you because he knows you don’t have it in you to take it yourself. You won’t whine greedily even if Javier tells you too, so Javier’s giving is only a partial virtue. It’s mostly pride, after all. It hurts his ego a little when you refuse to bask in the love he so enthusiastically wants to drown you in.

Despite his complaints though, it’s a part of you that makes him so weak to you. That you want with such desperation but don’t allow yourself to take - so it makes you pliant and willing and terribly, adorably pathetic. You’re so weak for Javier. Just for him, you always say. Always with a hand in his, or wrapped around his bicep. All yours, Javi. Always his.

That’s the thing. Javier wants to give everything in the world to you. He wants to be good to you, and he so often is. But you do things sometimes, all collapsed under the weight of your own desire that drive him insane. Make him act in ways he normally wouldn’t dream of doing. Depraved and filthy and unromantic in all senses of the word.

It’s really not very polite for Javier to stand and watch you at his door - humping his pillow with weeps and huffs. It’s not kind to embarrass you. He’s a good man, and a good man would cover you with his coat and maybe smile about how much you care for him.

But there’s just something about the look on your face when you do it, something about the tear stains in your lashes and the way your cheek is pressed in his jacket. Something about that needy, incessant little ache in your voice as you call and call and call for him. As if you’re hoping you’ll answer despite him not being there.

Javier is a good man to you. Maybe he could be better. Maybe he’s not good enough.

He stands in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a soft, gentle grin. There’s no question he’s behaving a worse man than he is. Than he ought to be.

He’s quiet as he shuts the door, balancing his weight to remain noiseless.

Javier doesn’t particularly like being all the way out in Saint Denis nor is he fond of intel missions. The city is loud, the people unfriendly - though he likes the music and art. He prefers staying in camp if he can help it, but this big bank heist has everyone busy. He’s at least thankful that it’s given him an excuse to be with you. Your knowledge of herbs and poisons and the like have been helpful to gathering information. Been a lot of slipping things in drinks and making people forget. The sort of dirty work he’s accustomed too, while also getting a chance to be with you in a place with four walls and a bath. A dream for the future, maybe.

It’s been nice, but he’s been out now for two days - out in the streets gathering information about Bronte’s people. A bunch of lowlifes just like them, but with their hands in the pocket of the city. He’s only been gone for two days, so there’s no reason you should miss him this much. And yet he hears it anyway. And it pleases him, truthfully.

He takes off his coat as he listens to you at the doorway. Shrugs the middle-weight material of his sheen suit jacket over his shoulders and lays it on a chair, takes off his wingtip-gaiter shoes, undoes the yellow puff tie from around his neck. Nothing but a white linen dress shirt and the dark black slacks he’s been wearing for days now, some parts covered in bloodstains he only barely managed to wash out in the river not long ago.

He’s thankful he took a bath before getting in now, listening to you moan. His hands being clean feel like a blessing - just his luck.

He manages to remain quiet as he steps into the main room - a single bed in the center. Javier finds you there in a heap as he rests his body along the wall of the entrance to his right. He crosses his arms over his chest as he takes a minute to take in the scenery, admiring the soft lowlights and the way they cast shadow on your body.

The wooden bed frame creaks slightly as you rut your hips. You’re out of it, Javier can tell, since you’ve yet to sense the fact he’s come in. The paintings along the back wall click against soft red walls themselves, over and over in an arrhythmic tic. Javier tries not to laugh. Gives himself a minute to admire the moment for what it is, the vulnerable desperation of your lust. He has to get over the disbelief, too. Over the fact your face is buried in the open part of his bluecoat and that you’ve got a hotel pillow(his hotel pillow) between your legs. One that you’re humping so frantically he can’t help but feel sorry for you.

You’re making a mess.

You are a mess. The way the white chemise falls over your back and hips, and the lack of finesse in your gestures. If Javier had to bet money on it - he’d bet money on the fact you probably didn’t start this way. He figures you nested with his coat and pillow to go to sleep and then worked yourself into something senseless and desperate. And he’d figure if he didn’t show up, you wouldn’t cum at all. You’d go to bed all frustrated and tired and just wait for him like always.

Any man would be pleased by it, he thinks. And a good one would never embarrass you about it. Javier tries his best. Weighs his options, but the words slip from his mouth before he can think to stop them.

Pure elation in his words wrapped up in a smug delight. “Aye, hermosa - you’re gonna ruin my things you know?”

Your reaction is what he expects. You jump out of your skin first, sitting straight up. Javier bites back a laugh as you do, big wide eyes like a deer caught in the scope of a rifle. You look around the room, worried you’re imagining him. Once you’ve come back to reality enough to realize he’s real and tangible - all the neediness washes right back into your expression.

“Javier,” You sniffle and god. Javier hopes the heavens are more merciful to him than he is to you. “Javi,”

“I’m home,” He voices in a partial tease, walking towards you. He can tell you want to run to him. To crawl into his arms and lap and collapse there forever, but the dull throbbing between your legs is stopping you. “I would ask if you missed me but, somehow I get the feeling you did.”

You let out a soft, sniffly whine as Javier sits in the bed next to you. He turns his body to face you a little better but keeps distance. You turn your face towards him. Javier cups your cheek in his palm, eyes tracing your features. Your lips are bruised like you’ve been biting on them to keep the noise down and your eyes are wet with tears, red stained in the waterline. His thumb brushes along the thin skin of your lower lip, clicking his teeth at you.

“Look at you,” He reprimands, his voice tender as he leans in to give you a little relief. You kiss Javier too eagerly, impatient and lacking your usual timidness. It’s how he knows how far you’ve fallen. How simple and easy your reactions are. “You’re going to hurt yourself pushing so desperately,” He laughs again, a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Does it feel good, at least?”

“It’s better when you do it,” You admit, falling forward. Javier doesn’t let you drop, but he doesn’t comfort you right away either. He laughs and lets a hand rest on your lower back, relishing in your reaction. You shiver, sensitive and overstimulated with so little at all.

“I know,” He coos with as much faux-sympathy as he can manage. “Couldn’t wait for me a little longer? I’m hurt.”

“Nooo,” You draw the words out, pitiful and upset “I’m sorry. I missed you,”

“It’s okay,” Javier says, knowing he wasn’t mad in the first place. Not even a little. “Ahh, what should I do with you now, do you think?”

It’s hard not to laugh at the immediate noise of disapproval. He’s sure you’d be able to ask him for what you want if he coaxed you into it. One whispered word of tell me what you want, and you’d be begging for his cock with ease. Filthy words from such a pretty mouth, he likes the idea.

But he’s feeling… something. Something on the border of sadistic and loving that has him instead thinking.

Pretending to think.

“Maybe you should keep going, hm? You’ll think clearer once you’ve let it out, don’t you think?”

“I can’t,” You bemoan, pleading with him. “I’m trying but it’s—it’s not enough, Javier, please.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, man. What am I gonna do with you? Should I help you, mi amor?”

You nod your head rapidly. As if he’d ever leave you out to dry when you look all pretty helpless. He doesn’t mention it to you. “Please,”

“Yeah? I’ll help you then.” He offers, taking your hand and guiding you to his lap with his legs stretched out. He sits you over his thighs, glancing back at his jacket and pillow, brows raised when he sees how sticky they both are. Your habit of drooling and your cunt soaking his pillow case, he laughs just a little seeing the state of them. You must notice because you hit his shoulders weakly. “So needy,”

“Javier.”

“Alright, alright,” He laughs again, kissing your cheek as he brings you to him. You frown but comply with his handling of you, strong hands pulling you over his thigh. He sits you down until your bare cunt is pressed against the clothed muscle. It dawns on you what he’s doing as he’s doing it, a noisy little whimper sounding as Javier pulls you close. Close enough to wrap your arms around his neck. He puts a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to bury his face into the space of his shoulder. He can feel the relief in you when you do, slumping into him a second time today. “You have to move on your own, you know? I won’t help you.”

“You’re being awful,” You say with no real malice or bite.

“I’m a little hurt, that’s all. And I’m helping you aren’t I? Is that not what you want?”

You groan against the skin of his neck. “I want your…ngh,”

He hums against you, decides to be merciful since he’s teased you plenty and he’s going to tease you more.

“Wanna feel me right here, don’t you?” He puts a hand between your bodies, pressing the back of his hand into your stomach. “I know, I know. But I want you to cum like this first.”

“Can’t do it by myself,” You sniffle. Don’t even try to push back, so obedient and willing. Javier hums sympathetically.

“I’m here right? I’ll help you, mi vida. I’m not that mean, am I?”

You shake your head no. He most definitely is, but maybe he can keep that a secret from you a little longer.

“Here,” He says. Javier pulls your chemise up until it’s pooling at your waist. Strong, tan hands hold at your hips, squeezing the soft skin with a warm sigh. You keen immediately. He pushes his thigh up just slightly to give you the right kind of friction. Hiccuping in his lap, he sets a pace for you to grind yourself on him. A slower back and forth. When you get too wet, too needy - you get sloppy. Sometimes he can give it to you hard and fast but you’re sensitive. Sensitive to the point it’s easy to make you hurt, make yourself hurt if you’re too clumsy.

You’re always chasing pleasure but you don’t know anything about build-up. For a girl who tends to keep to herself and is always so meticulous - there’s something about seeing you get so sloppy that turns Javier on. When you’re wet and can’t think straight “Not too fast, okay? You’re sensitive, need it slow at first to make it feel good if it’s like this. Did you forget?”

You nod, then moan hotly against his throat. Javier shivers at the way your tune changes. He can feel you breathe in his scent and relax as he guides your hips. He eventually stops touching you. Lets you take control of the pace just like he shows you. You manage to pace yourself despite how much you want to cum. Javier can feel how pent up you are. The fabric of his slacks going sticky, tacky from cum and arousal.

You smell nice and soft, like baby powder and something floral.

Javier’s been hard since he got in the door, but it’s starting to fog his mind up. Feeling your tits press against his chest, feeling your skin against his. Soft and pliant and beautiful. He kisses against your shoulders as you slowly start to build your orgasm up again. Not that it’s hard.

You pull away from him, briefly - and your face makes his dick twitch. You’re always pretty but you’re especially pretty like this. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth, eyes lidded and barely blinking.

“Javi,” Your words are slurred. Javier laughs but doesn’t clean you up. “Kiss me,”

“Sure,” He replies, though he’s all too happy to do it. Javier kisses you with tongue. He knows it’s what you want. Your hands curl up at his chest as he brings his own to cup your head and pull you to him. His tongue in your mouth is invasive but precise, knowing all the ways you want him to nip and kiss and suck on your mouth. You whine in complete pleasure, drunk from the sensation and he’s hardly touched you at all.

He thinks of how he’ll fuck you as he kisses you. He’ll touch you more than he is now and you’ll fuck like lovesick rabbits until sunrise. It’s less something Javier decides and more something he knows. Like once he opens the door to pleasing you like this, it’ll be tough on him to close it again.

“Javi,” You keep calling his name. It might be the only word you remember. Always seems to be when you get like this. “It feels so good. Feels so good when you touch me,”

Javier kisses against your bare shoulder and neck, teeth scraping soft against your clavicles. “Mm. You’re doing well. A very good girl today,”

You shudder at the praise, all the hairs on your neck raising from the drop of it. Javier laughs. You whine his name again but he doesn’t reply. He can feel you more than he can see you. Your body is twitching against his thigh and your muscles are tight where you hug against him. Javier calms you.

“Gonna cum soon, huh?”

You nod over and over, but can barely keep your head up to do it. And he laughs, full of fondness and affection as he peppers your face with kisses. He doesn’t have it in him suddenly, to tease you about it any more. He encourages you instead, hand on your hips to give you more friction as you start to grow erratic in your breathing. You pant hard against his ear, like you’re chasing something. Little bunny rabbit, he thinks. Your voice is little more than a croak.

“Oh,” You moan, loud and helpless and needy as you cling to him. Your hands fisted in the back of his shirt as you cry out his name one more time. A prayer, maybe. Or a curse. Something in between. “Javier, oh,”

“Shhh, that’s it. Just like that. Good girl. You’re so good to me.”

You weep into his neck as you cum, your whole body tightening before breaking out into aroused shakes. You’ve completely lost it in front of him. On the brink of insanity with nothing but pleasure filling your empty-head. You hump against him thoughtlessly as you ride out your high, then finally lean against him when you’ve managed to reach the end of it. You don’t move. Javier can feel how big the wet patch of his pants has grown and tries not to laugh.

You’re only barely coherent when you’ve finally pulled away. Your pupils are blown out and your face is flushed, sweat making your hair stick to your skin in the places it’s not tucked away. Javier laughs at the state you’re in, brushing his thumb along your cheek just beneath your eyes.

“Are you with me still, do you think?”

You nod, seemingly exhausted. He laughs again and kisses your temple.

“Want you,” You say, despite your state. His eyes widen again at how soon after you’re asking him. He was planning on taking his time, but that plan might just be out of the race. He’s not above you begging him so sweetly. “Please, Javi. Need you, need you so bad.”

You sound like you’re about to cry. He speaks in soft murmurs. “I thought you’d be too tired to keep going right away.”

“No,” You mumble and shake your head. “Please. Please, want you so bad.”

“You’re exhausted, mi vida.”

“Please,”

He chuckles. “Okay. Okay, don’t cry. Whatever you want, remember. Unbutton my shirt for me, mi amor.”

You sniffle, your hands shaking as you fulfill his request. You’re exceptional at listening. Javier smiles at you, your eyes meeting as you do. You flush and pout, only barely managing to maintain his gaze without looking away. You unbutton his shirt dutifully. He puts a hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly. “You must’ve missed me a lot, huh.”

You nod. “It’s bad, you know? Two days shouldn’t feel so long. It didn’t use too.”

“Just means we love each other,” Javier assures, a safe place for you to express your neediness. “That’s nothing bad,”

You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “That’s true,”

“See? And it’s nice you know. Having someone miss me. Wait for me. Makes me want to come home instead of, I don’t know.” He feels his throat tighten at the sincerity but pushes through anyway “Dying for the cause. Or even just because.”

It’s the first time you’ve smiled all day and god. Might be the only thing that’s ever mattered. Above all forms of love prior and past. Above revolution. Above god. Just you. You smile, happy and elated and keep unbuttoning his shirt with a coquettish-ness to you. Comfortable and safe.

You help Javier out of his shirt, and wait for his approval to go after his pants. Undoing the buttons, you free his cock from the confines with a soft gasp. Javier laughs at the reaction, cat-like grin on his features.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“It’s so big,” You say, your hand wrapping around it briefly. Javier swears, head against the headboard.

“Careful,” He warns, laughing thickly. “I’m pretty pent up too,”

“Want it inside me,” You say so easily it startles him. You blink up at him through your lashes, too pretty for your own good. “Please?”

“Should open you up a little.”

“Want it to hurt,” You reply instantly. Javier feels his breath hitch.

“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, trying to keep himself from cumming in your hands. “We’ll go slow.”

You nod quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. Javier curses himself for not being more polite.

He guides your arms around his neck, his own arm around your waist as he lays you down on your back. You look up at him, surprised by his handling of you but not upset by it all. You mumble something he doesn’t catch, but it sounds pleased.

Javier finds that he’s fond of missionary. He didn’t think he was the type, but there’s something about seeing you laid on your back that he likes. Likes being able to look at you and be close to you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you curl into him. He lays you down gently on his spine, laughing at the way your legs wrap around his waist the second you’re comfortable. His hands go up under your knees but don’t push you too far. You spread your legs for him naturally, eyes fluttering with exhaustion and leftover stupid want. He looks down at you and smiles.

“One more, okay? Just the one.”

“I can’t,” You whine “Too sensitive. Just want you to cum on me,”

“Are you doubting me?” He challenges, only partially. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “Of course you can. One more,”

You whimper, suddenly realizing you had no choice in the first place. But you nod, relenting to him like you so often do. Javier kisses you. It means more things that he’s comfortable telling. Means thank you, and that he’s sorry, that he loves you. He kisses you one more time after that, and smiles at how happy you seem because of it.

Finally, when Javier lays you down on the sheets beneath you - it feels like finding religion all over again. The loose material of your chemise has given up on covering you, exposing the soft mound of your chest and hardened nipples. He can see your neck and shoulders and everything else above and below. You’re so beautiful his cock twitches again, hard.

He sits back up on his knees and takes a deep breath as he lays his cock against your puffy folds. You breathe soft, an aching sound from the back of your throat as you pull your skirt up to give him better access. He laughs gently at that, examining how nearly seven inches measures up to you and feels a little dizzy in the process of it. He’s done this with you so many times now, practically trained your body to take him without too much trouble. A welcome change from when you could barely fit the tip, too inexperienced to do it but even more determined.

Even still some part of him worries about it. It’s not enough to stop him though, not nearly. His cock twitches against hard, wanting for you. He looks down at you and sees you stare up, admiring his figure. He laughs.

“Like the view?”

You nod. “Mm. Uh-huh.”

“I’m glad,” He replies, then adds “Deep breath,”

So you take a deep breath, and Javier pushes the tip of his cock into you with a loud grunt. You’re so soft. Wet, and pliant and soft around the swollen head of his cock, he can’t help but shudder with relief and desire. Can’t help but grit his teeth and grip onto your hips to steady himself.

You breathe like the air has been punched out of your lungs, saying his name dreamily. “Oh, Javi,”

He swears under his breath, something incoherent as he pushes the tip push into you evenly. It’s not easy. The resistance is there, but you don’t whine in pain right way - so it means it’s not too hard on you. Perhaps loosened by the previous orgasm, or simply so needy that it doesn’t bug you. Still, Javier makes sure to keep himself tight. He rocks, back and forth, ignoring the agony of that sensation to keep him from thrusting up into your soft, welcoming cunt. If he listened to what he wanted, he can’t be confident it wouldn’t make you ache. He already knows you will with this much.

It takes a few minutes, and some whimpering from you before he finally manages to bottom out.

You feel good. God, you feel good.

He can’t imagine heaven, but he thinks being inside of you might be close enough. There’s certainly all the makings of religion when he makes love to you. You, a soft and loving deity, and him - a man laden with sin who longs to be saved. It makes sense to compare you that way. And it feels just as euphoric as the always described, being wrapped in you. Being part of your completion. What's religion without worshippers, anyway?

Javier groans as he bottoms out inside of. When he manages to peel his eyes open and look at you, you’re debauched. He’s debased you this completely and he doesn’t know if you can even tell. He laughs, leaning down to kiss your neck and run pecks against your jaw.

“Feel good?”

“Feels so good,” You moan, then hold him tighter. “I love you. Love you Javier,”

“Me too, mi amor. Para siempre. ” He hums, kissing your forehead before looking at you. “Can I move?”

“Please,”

“Touch yourself for me,” He tells you patiently. “Make yourself feel good.”

You nod, dazed - a hand between your bodies as Javier sets a pace to fuck you. He knows you in and out. At least well enough to know exactly the ways to make you feel good. Only a few thrusts for him to find the perfect pace, perfect rhythm, perfect spot. You make a noise like a songbird, deep in the back of your throat and Javier can feel you pulse around him in pleasure.

You stay like that, with him. Javier fucks you to his hearts content in deep, long thrusts - angled against the softest parts of you and wanting to make you feel good. He whispers sweet nothings as your nails dig into the muscle of his back. You feel good for him. You are good for him, wet and perfect. It takes all of his strength to fuck you consistently, the bed rocking underneath you both as he gives it to you hard.

“I’m close,” You whimper, not seeming to believe yourself despite. “I’m so close, oh god, Javier.”

“That’s it,” He whispers, chuckling against your skin “One more. Just one more and I’ll give it to you.”

It’s the promise of his cum that drives you over the edge. You gasp and groan, shuddering as Javier pounds you through your second orgasms. He groans as he feels your pussy spasm and tighten around him, practically begging him to put it inside. He’s nearly lost his sense enough to do it, unhelped by the way your sweet voice begs him for it. He practically has to pry himself away from you, out of you to keep himself from cumming inside as deep as he can possibly go.

He manages, barely, to stave off his own orgasm. Long enough pull himself out of you with a broken gasp and cum outside of you. Making a mess of your stomach and your soft, swollen cunt with his seed. He paints you in thick ropes of whites as he swears loud in the process, euphoria rumbling through him uninterrupted.

“Fuck,” He moans, finally getting to the end of it. A little embarrassed by how much of a mess he’s made right along with you. “You do something crazy to me, you know that?”

You stare at him, bleary eyed and giggly despite your exhaustion. “I know. Me too. I missed you,”

He laughs, and can’t find the words to say anything but the same back. Of course Javier is a worse man when you’re around.

Any man loved this much is bound to be a little ruined.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#javier escuella x reader #javier escuella smut #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 smut #rogues love letters

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