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cineresis · 2 days ago
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Poet Simulator v1.0 (open beta)
At any time: when you think or hear a phrase with a rhythm that you like, write it down. (You may alter it later, but never erase.) Phrases, as well, with evocative imagery, impactful rhetoric. Make a list, or several.
This may constitute a poem – though probably not a good one. Play with a phrase – does it spark inspiration, alone or in any permutation? Consider each phrase. What makes you like it? How can you create such effects, or refine it?
Recall moments that changed you, stole your breath; ones you want to remember, or long to forget. Write, in stream-of-consciousness, each detail and feeling that struck you. Forget frippery like grammar, expressions, clichés; embrace your mother tongue new-born. Mark phrases that catch your attention for later, and write to the end. Add phrases to a list or poem; let your experience(s) inspire others, filling gaps.
As you permute your poem, consider its themes. What does it evoke? What do you want it to?
At any time: Record words you find beautiful, or otherwise evocative, impactful. Seek opportunities to use them.
But remember: Edit. Excise excess. Each word must be the best word for its purpose, perfectly placed.
Exactly 200 words according to 200wordrpg.github.io/wordcount and Google Docs, at least until the latter decided to parse "new-born" as one word instead of two. OK to archive offsite.
This arose from contemplation of how the specific constraints of poetry and 200-word RPGs engender similar effects on language and construction, particularly in terms of the final stanza. I'd fallen out of the habit of poetry-writing and was looking for ways to apply my usual framework more systematically; iterating sentence construction while holding it in my head long enough to write it down tends to result in my writing English in iambic meter, so the first mechanic I set down happened to match the rhythm of "If you're happy and you know it" – a useful mnemonic, one hopes, if not exactly high art. While I did briefly flirt with the idea of a self-demonstrating RPG by formatting it as a poem from the start to temper my natural verbosity, I figured that might be unbearably pretentious – only to realise, around the 170-word mark, that excising enough excess words to fit in the most important mechanics made the language read as unnatural unless I added line breaks to format it as poem. 
This was not so much playtested in the process of making it as written from experience, in hopes of making poetry more accessible to anyone who isn't as used to those habits of thought. I welcome input and critique on both the poetry and the delivery of the mechanics! It's certainly not up to a poetic standard that would demonstrate my credentials, but technical-writing requirements for comprehensibility and usefulness hold sway in this case.
Discussion questions:
Does this 200-word RPG constitute a poem? Is it a good one? Why or why not?
Can the bolded section headers constitute a poem in and of themselves? Is it better for excising the rest of the text? Would bolding the last three lines improve either poem?
Which words or phrases can be interpreted in multiple ways? What are all the ways they can be interpreted? Do you think that was intentional?
Why did the author use the word "permutation" instead of "combination"? Are the precision and multiple meanings of "permutation" an improvement over the clarity of "combination"?
Why has this game been labeled a simulator? Can an immersive simulation become reality? Would "Poet Emulator" be a better title, or would it suggest a gameplay mode too heavily involved in mimicking the style of published poets?
What does releasing this RPG as an open beta imply about it as a self-demonstrating example of gameplay?
200 Word RPGs 2024
Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.
This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.
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absurdthirst · 2 days ago
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All American Thanksgiving {Javier Peña x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 19.9k
Warnings: Sex with strangers, protected sex, outdoors sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), restraints, temperature play, begging, submissiveness, face riding, angst, heartbreak
Comments: Working on Thanksgiving leads to meeting Javier Peña.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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Javier rubs his cheek as he strides to the door of the diner. It’s Thanksgiving and he volunteered to work. He doesn’t mind sitting in a cop car instead of handling Lorraine and her family like he would’ve had to do. He walks into the empty diner and sits at the counter. You look up when you see him waiting at the counter, surprised anyone showed up on Thanksgiving, but you wipe your hands on your apron and walk along the counter to greet him. “Hey. Happy Thanksgiving. What can I get you to drink?” You ask, taken back by how handsome he is when he looks up at you with beautiful dark brown eyes.
He’s always been a bit of a flirt, but he’s tried to be good while he was dating Lorraine. However, he’s tired of her pushing for a ring, for a proposal. Wanting the wedding that Javi isn’t ready for. She keeps telling him that he can’t keep getting the milk for free when he hasn’t bought the cow. So he decided to tell her he needed a break. Right before the holiday and she keeps calling, her mother stopped him in the grocery store and gave him an earful and her father undoubtedly has been waiting to run into him. “Kind of a slow day, huh?” He asks, glancing around the deserted dinner. “Got any coffee brewed?”
You chuckle, glancing behind you to the half empty pot. “Definitely. It’s what I’ve been surviving on today since it’s been so quiet. Who knew so many people had families to see today?” You tease as you turn to grab a cup to pour him some coffee. “You got stuck with the ghost shift today too?” You ask as you set the cup down on the counter for him.
He snorts. “I volunteered.” He offers. “It was better than spending the day with people I don’t want to be around, talking about subjects I don’t give a fuck about.”
You hum, nodding in agreement, “True. Especially politics and religion. Luckily for me, I don’t have to worry about that because my parents are gone and I’m an only child.” You confess, reaching for a menu to set it down. “Me and the cook back there volunteered to let our coworkers spend the day with their families.”
“That was nice of you.” He watches as you walk away to get the coffee pot, his eyes falling down to your ass. It’s a nice ass, wrapped in your diner uniforms.
You come back, sensing his eyes on you when you walked away, and you smirk as you pour his coffee. He's attractive but you can tell he knows it. "Well, it's starting to feel like it was a good choice." You say as you stare at him appraisingly. "Always liked a man in uniform."
He wings up a brow, leaning back slightly. It’s been a long time since he’s really talked to a woman that wasn’t his family or Lorraine’s and he smirks. “You can look all you want.” He promises. “I don’t mind.”
You like his smirk, feeling your stomach twist with attraction, and you finish pouring his coffee. “See anything you like? On the menu?” You add, offering him a smirk of your own.
“Only the menu is available?” Javi hums. “Damn shame.” He glances down at your hand and sees you don’t have a wedding ring on. “He’s a lucky fucker.”
His words make you hot under your uniform, his dark eyes flicking up to yours and you offer him a soft shake of your head, "there's no lucky fucker. Single as a pringle." You hum, "and you? I'm sure your lady knows she's lucky."
“Single.” Javi shrugs slightly. “Recent occurrence.” Leaning forward, he picks up his coffee cup with three fingers and watches you while he takes a sip, “my real question is how are you single? I bet you get hit on all the time, pretty as you are.”
You chuckle, shaking your head again, "if you count old men and truckers, then allll the time. By someone I'd actually be interested in? Never. Until today." You murmur, resting your elbows on the counter to lean a little closer. "What crazy woman let you out of her bed?" You ask incredulously, eyebrows raised.
He chuckles, appreciating the comment and feeling like it might apply to his ex. She was getting more and more demanding as time went on. “I ran from it, actually.” He admits. “Felt like it wasn’t right.” His gaze turns a little more intense. “She wasn’t the right woman for me. So I’m still looking.”
You hum, "well, her loss and all..." You trail off and look down at the menu, "you want anything to eat, handsome?" You ask flirtatiously, knowing that you are both single. You have no qualms flirting with a sexy man and today has been painfully slow in the diner. You need a distraction.
“Oh, I’m starving.” Javi insists with a lecherous smirk. “And I’ll get something to eat, I guess.” He winks at you and glances behind you when the cook makes his presence known in the kitchen window.
You can sense Adrian's presence but you ignore it to focus on the customer as you reach for your notepad, "what can I get you?" You ask and he glances down at the menu. "All American Breakfast. Bacon, eggs over easy, pancakes." He orders and you nod, writing it down, "hash browns or grits?" You ask and he licks his lips, "hash browns." You nod and scribble down his order, handing it to Adrian who grunts and gets to work. "That should be up soon." You tell him and walk along the counter to grab the syrup and preserves for him to choose from.
“Fuck.” He notices the extra sway to your hips when you walk away from him and it makes his cock twitch. It’s been a slow day and he doesn’t have any calls right now, so he plans to stay and flirt with you until the dispatcher radios him. “Strawberry.” He tells you when you offer him a choice. “Sweet and juicy,  how I like it.”
You giggle, your stomach lurching with attraction and lust from his words, and you bring his selection over to him, setting it down. "So...do I get to know your first name, Officer Peña?" You ask, glancing down at his badge and you know he can read your name on your badge.
“Javier.” He’s spilled a little of the coffee on his thumb so he swipes his tongue across it after saying your name in return. “You have a beautiful name.” He compliments. “Matches your ass.”
You inhale shakily before you breathe out, "now there's a compliment you don't get everyday." You lean over the counter again, watching him as he lowers his hand from his mouth. "You have massive hands." You reach for the one he didn't lick, admiring his thick fingers, "makes a girl wonder where else is big." You flirt, caressing the back of his hand.
Javi’s no fool and that is an invitation as clear as day. Running his tongue over his teeth, he arches a brow as he glances at the kitchen window again. “Why don’t we go have a smoke?” He asks you. “Out back.”
You nod, cunt dripping for this stranger, but you feel like you need this. You spin around to talk to Adrian through the kitchen window. "I'm going for a break." You call out and Adrian waves his spatula over his shoulder to dismiss you. He's never been one with words. You reach behind you to untie your apron and shove it under the counter before you stride down the counter at the same pace he walks until you meet him at the side entrance to the dinner. He pushes the door open for you and you step outside, inhaling the fresh air. "I don't really smoke." You confess, turning towards him just as he reaches for your waist to pull you into his chest. "It's not a cigarette I want right now." He rasps, his hard cock pressing against your hip and you moan, reaching up to cup his cheeks, dragging his face to yours.
Javi leans into the kiss eagerly, having missed the physicality of sex since ending things with Lorraine. He’s almost given in and called her a few times but had resisted so far. Now, he’s wrapping his arms around you and dragging you closer, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth with a moan.
Your tongue slides against his as his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through your dress. You moan into the kiss, grinding against him as he walks you backwards towards the wall of the diner and you gasp when he kisses your jaw. “Tell me what you want, hermosa.” He demands and you whimper, “need you to fuck me.” You order, reaching between you to squeeze his cock through his pants.
Javi groans into your mouth, twitching in your hand. “I can fuck you.” He promises, breaking away from your lips to kiss along your jaw. His fingers trail around your hip and push into your panties to find your clit and slide his fingers through your wet folds to press inside you slowly. “Fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.” He tells you as your walls hug his fingers.
His fingers are thick and stretch you, making you moan his name as he starts to work you open on them. You’re dripping wet for him and you fumble with his belt, trying to get his pants open. “Fuck. This uniform is so hot.” You murmur, his gun still on his hip as he pumps his fingers. You finally get his pants open and reach in to pull his hard cock out, moaning at the girth you discover.
He chuckles against your pulse as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, curling them up. Wanting you to feel good when he slides inside you. “So is your uniform.” He pants. “Serving me coffee and pussy.”
“Better leave a good tip.” You tease breathlessly as he presses his thumb against your clit and you pump his cock, loving the way he twitches in your palm. His breaths are hot against your neck and you need him to be inside you. “Javier. Please.” You beg, walls fluttering around his digits as he works you up.
​​“You don’t want to cum like this?” He is halfway teasing but he curls and presses his fingers deeper. Pressing against that spongy spot that has you gasping out his name. “You just want my cock?”
“Oh shit.” You gasp as he presses his fingers against that spot. “Yes. Shit. Keep- keep going. I’m so close.” You pant out your confession as you grind down onto his fingers, your grip on his cock tightening. He chuckles and it makes your stomach clench, sending you over the edge and your knees buckle while you clamp down on his fingers.
Javi’s body pressed against you keeps you upright against the wall. Groaning into your skin while you soak his fingers and he pumps them in and out of you with a squelching sound. Enjoying the way you are whimpering and his cock pulses in your hand.
You try to catch your breath as he works you through it until you regain your senses. You let go of his cock to cup his cheeks, pressing your lips to his after you demand, “fuck me.”
Javi licks into your mouth again, pulling his fingers out of your dripping pussy to reach for his wallet. Always keeping a spare condom in the side pocket, he pulls it out blindly and drops the wallet on the ground in his hast to rip the foil packet open and roll it on.
You shove your dress up your hips and watch him roll the condom down his cock. He’s thick and you would go down on him if you knew him better. “Baby, please.” You beg, whining as he grabs your thigh, lifting it over his hip, and you groan when he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push into you.
Javi doesn’t just thrust into you roughly, but his hips are firm as they press you into the wall. Filling you with a smooth roll of his hips that is taking your breath and making him choke out in pleasure as he bottoms out. “Fuuuuuuck.” The curse is growled into your mouth, following his tongue as it slides against yours and his eyes close at the hot clutch of your cunt around him.
He stretches you out and you grip his shoulder as he starts to move inside you. Your tongue tangles with his and this is pleasure you haven't felt for a long time. He is strong beneath your touch as he rocks into you and you moan, tilting your head back against the wall when he adjusts his hips, "fuck, that's good."
Javi grunts in agreement, moving to kiss every inch of your neck and shoulder that he can reach while he’s rocking into you. His hands around your back, holding you as he thrusts. The jingle of his belt is loud but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care if anyone manages to see you, he’s too focused on how good you feel around him.
Anyone could see you from the road but you don't care. Adrian could come out and find you but you don't give a fuck. Not when Javier is making you feel like this. He thrusts into you, his hand sliding down to your ass and you moan, rocking your hips to meet his, his belt hitting your thigh with each thrust.
“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” He pants as he fucks you. “I can feel it. Cum for me.” He wants to feel you cum on his cock, needs to feel it because he can feel his own body tensing to cum. It’s been so long since he’s fucked anyone but Lorraine that it’s overwhelming. “Cum for me, baby.”
His words have you falling over the edge. His cock pushes deep and you clamp down on it with a cry. Your nails dig into his uniform as you cum for him, squeezing his cock inside your fluttering walls. “Cu- cum for me.” You plead, wanting to watch him fall apart.
Javi’s jaw tenses. nostrils flaring as his hips snap forward three more times before he is faltering. Burying himself deep with a groan as his cock pulses inside you. Flooding the condom with his seed.
You love the way his jaw clenches as he twitches inside you. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.” You caress his cheek as he works himself through his pleasure until he lowers your thigh from his hip. You kiss him softly and he reaches down to grip the base of his cock as he pulls out of you.
“Fuck.” Javi hisses as he slides the condom off quickly and ties it closed. “Now I do need a cigarette.” He chuckles, shoving the used condom into the trash can and tucking his cock away. He zips up and looks at you as you adjust your panties and pull your dress back into place.
You stumble slightly and he reaches out to stabilize you. “Sorry. Just not used to cumming that hard.” You confess with a giggle and he chuckles, rubbing your arms. “You want your breakfast? Come in and have a smoke and your food.” You tell him, opening the door to the diner and he follows you inside, playfully smacking your ass which makes you giggle.
Javi goes back to his seat, sipping his coffee as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. Watching you move over to the window where his meal is sitting, having obviously been waiting for him. Grinning, you turn back and bring it over to him and he smirks. “Why won’t you get a drink and sit down with me?” He asks, inhaling a drag from the cigarette. “Not like you have a ton of tables to check.”
You glance at the kitchen window where Adrian is cleaning the griddle and you nod, grabbing a cup of coffee for yourself. Your pussy aches a little as you take a seat next to him and he taps his cigarette on the ashtray sitting on the counter. "So what made you want to be a cop?" You ask, eying his badge.
“Didn’t want to be a rancher.” He snorts, picking up his coffee cup and taking another sip before he sets it back down and picks up his fork. “I studied philosophy and criminal justice in college.” He admits, cutting into his pancakes and then picking up the syrup to drizzle over the top. “Don’t see a lot of work for a philosopher around here.”
You take a sip of your coffee and you chuckle, "I don't know. Some people around here need to take a good look at their lives. Maybe you could help them." You tease, "but being a cop...it's a hard job. Not one I'd want to do." You confess, "I bet it's hard to deal with the smugglers."
“Yeah.” He frowns slightly. “I try to prevent as much as I can, but I’m not in the DEA.” He has talked with agents a lot and even been told he needs to apply, but he hadn’t decided if he wanted to leave Laredo or not. His dad would be all alone. He never said it, but he could tell that he had missed Javi while he was in college.
You nod in understanding, “I heard the president talking about stopping the cartels but who knows what will happen. If you did join the DEA, I’m sure every woman in Laredo would miss you in uniform.” You wink, taking another sip of your coffee.
He chuckles. “Yep, I’m sure old Mrs. Murphy will miss calling me out to report that someone’s walked through her flowerbed.” He tells you. “It’s her cat, every time.”
You giggle, “she probably just wants to see a sexy cop.” You tease and he continues to eat his food. “I’d definitely be calling you to my house at every chance and you’d have a different kind of pussy to deal with.” You wink playfully, resting your elbows on the counter.
After scooping up a bite of his eggs, he smirks at you and turns the fork around to offer you the bite. “I’d be having a different kind of meal too.” He promises, that smirk broadening into a grin when you take the bite off of his fork with a look of surprise on your face. “Where do you live?” He asks. “Professionally speaking, so I can keep an ear out for the call on the radio.”
You grin after you swallow the eggs he offered you. “For professional purposes?” You ask and he nods, his knee pressing against yours under the counter. You tell him your address, “so if you’re in the area, stop by.” You wink, “and you can have your meal.”
He arches a brow, making note of the address. It’s not too far from his normal patrol route. “Gotta warn you,” he takes a bite of eggs and then forks up a bite of the pancakes for you to eat. “I’ve got a hell of an appetite.”
“Good thing I can cook up a storm.” You tease, wrapping your lips around his fork to chew on the bite. Adrian had left for his break so it’s just the two of you in the diner. “And I definitely offer dessert.” You wink after you swallow, “you are welcome anytime, officer.”
Javi smirks and nods. “Definitely take you up on that.” He promises. “Although if keeping the handcuffs on is a turn on, I can always use them on you.” He jokes.
“Or I could use them on you.” You challenge playfully and he chuckles, shrugging one shoulder, “never tried that before.” You smirk, “it would be fun. I mean it, you’re welcome anytime.” You promise and he nods just as his walkie talkie beeps. “Come in Peña.” The dispatcher’s voice is muffled but you lean back, knowing your time with him is over.
Javi sighs and rolls his eyes but he reaches for the radio. “Peña here, what’s going on?”
“Domestic dispute. Thanksgiving dinner gone wrong. 112 Sanders Ave off of Clark near the football stadium.” Kathy at dispatch says, knowing Javier is on his break but the woman had been panicked.
Javi is moving, dropping his fork and standing up as he keys his mic again. “10-4.” He says. “Enroute, five minutes.” He goes to pull his wallet out of his pocket and smirks because he had to pick it up off the ground earlier. “Listen, thanks for the food and the company.” He tells you, handing you several bills. Enough to cover the meal and a good tip. “I’ll try to come back.” He promises.”
You nod, watching him shift off his stool. “Let me get you a coffee to go.” You rush around the counter and grab a paper to-go cup, filling it up and you hand it to him. Your fingers brush his and you wish he wasn’t leaving so soon. “I’ll see you around.” You murmur, glad that Adrian isn’t here to see you step forward to kiss his cheek. He smiles and nods, “see you soon.” He says and makes his way out of the diner. You watch him until his patrol car disappears and you sigh, leaning against the counter for several moments until you clean up his plate.
The entire time he’s gone to the call, he’s thinking about the sex, the conversation. He had enjoyed his time with you, more than he could have imagined in that situation. He takes care of that issue, calming down the couple that had been arguing over the man watching the game and not helping out for Thanksgiving dinner. After that, he had a call for fireworks, basically just telling the kids to space out the explosions, and not set them off near buildings so they don’t catch on fire. After that, it goes quiet and he finds himself driving back to the diner to see if you are still there.
You are refilling the condiments, distracted thinking about Javier, when the man himself strides back into the diner. Your eyes widen and you nearly knock over the sugar as you stand up, brushing down your apron. “You’re back.” You declare and he nods, walking over to the counter, “can I get you a coffee?” You ask, heart pounding in your chest.
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Too late for that.” He checks his watch and raises a brow. “When do you close tonight? I can’t see too many more people coming if they aren’t already here.”
You check your watch, “in the next fifteen minutes if no one comes in.” You tell him, “you sure you don’t want anything?” You ask as you start to put the condiments away on each table.
He smirks. “Nothing but a date.” He props his hands on his hips and looks at you as you work. “Don’t think we can go out tonight but, what do you say?” He had been thinking about you the entire time he was working and was eager to come back. It’s a step in the right direction and tells him that he was right to end things with Lorraine.
You are shocked that he came back to ask you out but your heart pounds and you blurt out a “yes” before you can even process it. He grins, nodding his head, “I, uh, I’ll give you my number.” You scramble for your notepad and write your number and address down for him. “I have tomorrow off if you, uh, if you’re free. If not, call me and we can figure something out.” You tell him with a smile that won’t leave your face.
Javi grins, taking the slip of paper that you had written his order down on, now having your number on it, and folds it over to tuck into his shirt pocket. “I’m off too.” He tells you. “Perks of working the holiday.” He jokes. “You want to get dinner? Let someone serve you for a change?”
You nod, “that sounds good.” You can’t stop smiling. You truly dreaded coming into work today but Javier has changed everything, making this a great day. “Seven?” You suggest and he nods, stepping closer to you. He glances around to see if Adrian is nearby until he cups your cheek and you lean in to press your lips to his. The kiss is sweet and short and when he pulls back, you cover your lips with your fingers, giggling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, officer.” You say and he chuckles, offering you a wink before he leaves the diner. “He’s going to be trouble.” Adrian calls out for the kitchen, “mark my words.” He says and you roll your eyes, “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” You finish your shift with a grin, planning what you’re going to wear tomorrow night for your date.
**** 
Javi hadn’t called that night since you had plans, but he’s pulling his truck up to your address five minutes before seven. It’s been a long damn time since he’s gone on a first date and Chucho had smirked when he had seen his son taking pains with his appearance and applying his new cologne. Now he wonders if he should have brought flowers since he’s already fucked you, but he can’t leave and go get some. Rolling his eyes at his stupidity, he opens the door and reaches for his cigarettes while he waits to knock on your door.
You rush around, making sure you look good. You’d picked a classy but sexy dress to impress him and it’s silly because you’ve already had sex, but you like him. A lot. You want to get to know him more and you want to make a good first date impression. You spray your perfume and when the doorbell rings, you inhale deeply, checking your appearance in the mirror before you open your front door. He’s wearing jeans that cling to his thighs, making your mouth water until you take in his checked shirt and the cowboy boots. Fuck, he looks sexy. “Hey.” You greet him softly, leaning against your doorframe after you open the door.
Javi smiles as he takes in your dress with a slow perusal of your body, up and down until he’s looking at your face again. “Hey.” He murmurs, his eyes already darkening in approval. “You look good.” He tells you. “Real good.” If he hadn’t promised you a date, he would be trying to talk you into bed right now.
His compliment makes you shiver in arousal and you’re tempted to drag him off to your bed but you need to get to know him. You want to know more about him. “Thanks, handsome. Let me just grab my purse and we can go.” You say and leave the door open as you find your purse. “You ready?” You ask and he nods, stepping back after you close the door so you can lock up.
He guides you towards the truck and opens the door for you. “So how do you feel about going across the border for dinner?” He asks. “There’s a great little restaurant on the river that serves the best food you’ll ever eat.”
You nod, “I’m down for anything.” You promise and you get up into his truck, watching him close the door and walk around. He comes across as a strong man and you love that he takes your hand as soon as he is driving down the street. “I’m really happy you came back to ask me on a date. I kicked myself for not getting your number.” You confess, squeezing his hand.
He hums as he guides the truck down the road towards the river. “I had to leave sooner than I wanted to.” He reminds you. “Asshole husband wanted to sit on his butt watching the game instead of helping set up for the entire family coming over.” He snorts. “Poor bastard never spent days making tamales at the table with mama.”
You scoff, “I feel bad for some women. They are completely stuck in their homes doing everything instead of following their dreams, doing what they want. I mean, I work in a diner but at least I’m standing on my own two feet and not dependent on some asshole who doesn’t do shit for my weekly grocery money.”
He finds that refreshing and he nods. “My mama was a “homemaker”.” He tells you. “But she ran our house, our lives.” He chuckles. “Pop would drive mama to the store for groceries because when they were first married he told her he expected the shopping to be done by her.” He shoots you a grin. “She made him eat those words and he ended up loving going shopping with her every week.”
You giggle, “your mama sounds like an incredible woman.” Javier nods, his brow furrowed, “she was.” Your smile drops and you squeeze his hand, “I’m sorry. I lost my parents when I was eighteen to a car accident. They left me their house and that’s how I’ve been able to survive.” You confess, “I- I’m sorry. It hurts. You want to talk to them, tell them everything that happens in your life, but they aren’t there. It’s horrible.” You admit, feeling your eyes sting with unshed tears for your own family.
“I’m sorry.” Javi flips his hand over yours and laces his fingers through to hold your hand. He squeezes it gently. “I know you have to miss them. I miss my mama every damn day.” He murmurs quietly. “Don’t ever apologize for missing someone you love.”
You love that you can understand his grief and he can understand yours. It's hard to relate when your partner hasn't lost a parent so you feel even more connected to Javier. He pulls up outside the restaurant moments later and helps you out, his hand on your back as he guides you into the restaurant. You feel protected and you love how he takes charge as he gives his name and pulls out your chair when you sit down at the table.
He tells you what he plans to order, “it’s the best you’ve ever had.” He promises, tapping the menu. When the waitress comes up, he orders two beers after checking with you and then looking back at you as she walks away. “So, tell me how you came to be at the diner?” He asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in there before, but I work odd hours a lot.”
You tap your fingers on the table, “my friend, Pam. She’s well, she was my mom’s best friend and she owns the diner. After my parents died, she was my rock and offered me a job. I planned to go to college but that kind of got pushed aside from grief and I’ve been there ever since. Maybe one day I’ll go to college but for now, I don’t mind working at the diner. I take weird shifts since a lot of the other girls have families. I’m happy to help them out since I’m alone.” You confess, offering him a shrug of your shoulder.
He nods, knowing that he doesn't mind the long, odd hours that come with his job sometimes. Although Lorraine would constantly complain when something would interfere with her plans. Like public safety and criminals would just stop at five when everyone else got off work.
The waitress brings back your beers and you tell Javier to order so you can have the same thing. “I’ll see if your recommendation is up to scratch.” You tease, picking up your beer to clink it against his. “To first dates.” He toasts and you smile, “to first dates.” Javier smirks after he has a sip, “so what happens if my recommendation isn’t up to your standard?” You giggle, setting your bottle down to take his hand in yours, “then you won’t get the blowjob I’ve been imagining since you left the diner yesterday.”
His cock twitches in his jeans. “Blow job?” He asks, sure that you’re fucking with him. “Thought good girls didn’t like to suck cock?” He had stopped asking for a blow job after it was treated like a chore. He had taken the hint, but he damn sure hadn’t gone down on Lorraine either - just sticking to sex. He had counted it as another strike against the relationship. If the sex life dried up and they weren’t even married, what would it look like in ten years? He didn’t want to find out.
You lean closer, lowering your voice, “who said I was a good girl?” You tease and you love the way he inhales sharply. “Baby.” He murmurs and you turn his hand over, tracing circles on his palm, “you’re sexy and capable, why wouldn’t I want to be on my knees for you?”
Javi shivers, feeling his body respond to the promise in your eyes. “Then you’ll be on them later on.” He promises, imagining the way you would look up at him with his cock in your mouth. “And then I’ll see how loud you can scream my name.”
You pick his hand up to press a kiss to his palm before you lower it back to the table, “I’m excited for that.” You murmur, “I, uh, I don’t usually - this isn’t what I do.” You clarify, “you’re the first man I’ve slept with since my ex and I broke up about six months ago. There’s something about you that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.”
“I don’t think any less of you.” He promises, smirking slightly. “I was right there with you, just as guilty.” He winks playfully and tilts his head. “Why did you and your ex break up? Was he just stupid?”
You sigh, “he wanted me to move across the country to Florida. I couldn’t leave my parents’ house. I know it’s stupid but it’s the last connection I have to them. I couldn’t sell it and move. He refused to stay in Laredo and we broke up. He’s dating some girl in Miami now. It wasn’t meant to be.” You confess, “and you? Why did you break up with your ex?”
Javi knows this might be something you don’t like but he sighs. “She was pushing for marriage and wouldn’t listen when I told her that we needed to fix some things in our relationship first.” He tells you honestly. “She kept pushing for me to quit the department, go work for her dad.” He snorts. “I don’t want to fucking sell furniture.”
You nod in understanding, “you can’t just get married without sorting those issues out. That’s a hot ticket to divorce. And you definitely don’t look like a furniture salesman. Annoying fuckers.” You snort, “you need to make the right choice for you otherwise you’ll be too old with kids and look back thinking what the fuck did I do with my life?” You know life is short.
He laughs and nods. “Exactly.” He shakes his head. “What about you?” He asks. “You want kids? The life?” He isn’t opposed to it, but it’s not like he is rushing to find a woman to pump out kids for him. He just kind of assumed they would always one day happen, although one day seemed to be a far off concept.
You shake your head, “I’m not in a rush. I do want to get married, have kids. My parents had a great marriage. They were partners but they - my mom could only have me. They wanted more kids. I would like a couple of kids. A husband. A dog. All of it. But not yet. I am still figuring myself out.” You confess, continuing to trace his palm.
“And what have you figured out so far?” He asks, finding it easy to talk to you. You aren’t playing games, being coy. It’s nice to just talk about things without any expectations or debates about what he should want. He got plenty of that from Lorraine’s family.
“That I am stronger than I thought.” You confess, “after my parents died
I thought I would crumble. But I didn’t. I got stronger and I miss them so much but I’m surviving. I need to find who I am without my grief. I am slowly getting there.” You murmur, “I want to enjoy life to the fullest. That’s my goal. In honor of my parents.”
“That’s a good tribute to them.” He agrees. The rest of the dinner is amazing, both of you talking about everything and anything. Javi tells you some jokes that make you laugh and there’s plenty of flirting as well. Even as you agree that it’s the best food you’ve had. Now you are in the truck parked in front of your house again and Javi wonders if you are going to invite him in.
Javi comes around to open the passenger door and he walks you to the front door of your house, his hand on your back until you turn to face him. You step closer, placing your hands on his chest, “do you want to come in?” You ask, biting your lip, prepared for him to say no and you should be more coy but you want him again.
He licks his lips and nods. "I want to come in." He promises you, happy that he had slipped another condom into his wallet. He presses closer and leans in, kissing you softly before he pulls away. "Open the door, hermosa." He hums, his hands sliding down from your hips to your ass. "This time I want to see you naked."
His words make you grin and you fumble slightly as you grab your keys until you manage to get the door open. You step inside, his hands around your waist as you walk in and he kicks the door shut behind him, spinning you around to press you up against it. You gasp in delight and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging his mouth to yours.
This time he can spend time on you. Stripping you down and feasting on your body while drowning himself in the pleasure of it. Everything blurs in his mind, all his problems fade and you are exciting. You are just as eager as he is. His cock is already starting to hard just from your soft lips yielding to him and his tongue slides against yours as you gasp into his mouth.
His thigh pushes between your legs and you grind down onto him as his tongue tangles with yours. You moan into his kiss, your hands sliding to the buttons of his shirt, starting to work it open so you can touch more of him.
Javi likes that you are undressing him. Likes that you are taking charge even if you are the one with your back against the wall. He pushes his thigh up a little higher as you grind down on it and he can feel the dampness starting to grow. "Fuck." he groans, breaking away and kissing down your neck. "No panties?" He twitches against your stomach.
“I was feeling lucky.” You tease, shoving his shirt open and you caress his chest once his skin is bare. “Shit. You’re so handsome.” You murmur against his hair as he kisses down to your collarbone and you scratch your nails over his nipples, grinding onto his jeans.
Javi hisses your name, hands sliding back up your dress to find the zipper. He doesn't want to just push your dress up again but he needs to touch you. "You are fucking gorgeous." He finds your lips again to kiss you as he drags the small zipper down.
His words make your body heat up and you know he means it, it’s not just to get into your pants. You haven’t even made it down the hall, the chemistry between you sizzles and you arch your back to allow him to pull the zipper down, his shirt hitting the floor when he finally shrugs out of it when you whine.
He chuckles, stepping backs so he can peel your dress down and reveal your bra. "Fuck," his hands cup your tits and he is delighted to find that the snap for your bra is in the front, letting him unclip it easily.
His eyes are dark and you love how hungry he looks as he pushes your bra off your shoulders and cups your tits as soon as it hits the floor. Your hands slide down to his belt, working to open in your desperation to see all of him, feel all of him.
Your hands are hot and eager on his skin, opening his belt with a hunger that jerks his hips towards you as you pull at the belt. "Let me- let me get you to the bedroom." He grunts, knowing that he wants to spread you out.
You nod, knowing you want him in a bed so you shimmy your dress down, kick off your heels, and take his hand to guide him to your bedroom while completely naked. His free hand works on his belt, letting it drop to the floor, and you open the door to your bedroom.
"Cute bed." He hums, noting your flowery bedspread. "Maybe I should have brought my handcuffs to tie you to it."
You smirk, “next time, officer.” You promise and waste no time sinking down to your knees, working on the zipper of his jeans, “now, I do believe I promised you a blow job if your recommendation was good enough and that was the best food I’ve had in a while.” You smirk and lean in to kiss his belly while you open his jeans until you reach in to pull his hard cock out. “Fuck. It looks as good as it feels.” You murmur, gripping him until you lean in to flick your tongue over the drop of precum before you take him into your mouth.
"Oh fuck." Javi's eyes roll back in pleasure and he fights to open them again and keep his gaze centered on you. "You- fuck, you - you are good at this." He pants out, reaching out and caressing your cheek and jaw as you take him deep into your mouth and hollow your cheeks around him. "Fuck."
You moan around him, loving the way he tries to not thrust into your throat but you want it. You grab his thighs, managing to pull his pants down further so you can cradle his balls while you take him deeper, choking when he hits the back of your throat. You splutter slightly and take a deep breath, pushing his cock down your throat as you breathe through your nose.
He likes that you choke but keep going. You don’t care that your eyes are watering and your makeup is smearing. Your eyes are watching him and your mouth feels like heaven around his cock.
“Fuck, “I’m going to cum.” Javi warns, loving how you just hum around him. A few seconds later, he’s cumming down your throat, growling your name and panting breathlessly. 
Pulling off his cock once you’ve swallowed every drop, you love how he is immediately hauling you to your feel and pushing you down on the bed, “It’s your turn.” He smirks, spreading your thighs as he settles between them, finding a pretty shaved landing strip. “You groomed for me?” He asks playfully. “You shouldn’t have.” 
You chuckle, flushing and shaking your head, “just wanted to make sure your dessert was presented nicely.” You tease, watching him settle between your thighs. He kisses your skin and you whimper, “hope you like it, officer.”
Javi smirks and nudges his nose against your clit, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal. You got wet while sucking his cock and he uses his fingers to pull your folds apart to expose the sensitive skin. “Let me show you how much.” He coos before he is sliding his tongue through your folds with a pleased groan.
You whimper, running your fingers through his hair, loving how his tongue feels. It’s wet and hot and makes you gasp when he flicks it over your clit. “Baby.” You whine, “you feel so good.” You compliment, tugging on his hair.
Javi wants to make this good for you. You sucked his cock and your cunt feels like heaven. He wants to see what you look like when you fall apart on his tongue. Eager to see how you moan and thrash around for him as he flicks his tongue over your clit.
It’s mind blowing how good his tongue feels against your clit, sucking on your folds and he pushes his tongue into your pussy. You watch him, shifting onto your elbow to watch him, “fuck, handsome, you’re so good at that.”
He hums against your folds, winking at you playfully from his place between your thighs, his mouth still attached to your cunt. He loves how vocal you are, how sweet the whines are when your thighs tense. His fingers dig into your hips and hold you in place.
You rock your hips against his face as he works his tongue deep in your pussy, your fingers tangled in his hair, and his nose presses just right against your clit. “Fuck. Oh shit. That - that’s it.” You pant, loving how good it feels as he works you up.
He wants you to cum. He wants to see your cunt flutter before he slides inside you. Groaning into you as your fingers tug at his hair and his cock twitches against the sheets. He pulls his tongue out of your pussy and flicks it over your clit before sucking it into his mouth.
"Oh my - fuck!" You cry when he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You love it. You fucking love it. You gasp, thighs starting to shake around his head, and you moan his name when you finally fall apart. You cry out, thighs squeezing his head while you soak his chin.
Javi moans into your folds. He loves when a woman comes apart for him. It’s addictive and he loves that just as much as he loves cumming himself. Lapping at your juices until he pulls away with his mouth shiny with your slick, he kisses your clit and then starts to work his way up your body.
You pant, catching your breath as he kisses up your body, wrapping his lips around your nipple, and his cock is hard against your thigh. You reach down to wrap your fingers around him, pumping his cock, “need you inside me, baby.” You demand breathlessly.
“Fuck.” He groans against your chin. “Do you have a condom in your nightstand?” His pants are too far away for his liking and he doesn’t want to pull away from your grip.
You nod, stretching out after you release his cock to grab a condom from your nightstand. His hands squeezing your ass as you turn onto your side, grabbing the condom. You shove it into his hand and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours to kiss him.
Javi can kiss a woman and open up a condom without looking at it. Focusing on you as he pulls the rubber out and rolls it down his cock. Groaning as he pumps himself a few times to position himself between your thighs.
You moan into his mouth when he starts to enter you, stretching you out like he did the day before behind the diner. "Fuck." You pant against his chin, shifting your gaze so you can watch him push into you. "You're so gorgeous, baby." You murmur, kissing along his jaw after a moment of watching him until he's pressing against your cervix.
He chuckles, thinking that should be his comment to you. Turning his head to press his lips to your and give you a moment to relax before he starts to move.
You let him set the pace, lifting your thighs onto his hips while your hands explore his chest, up to his shoulders, and down his back until you’re squeezing his ass. He’s strong above you, making you feel like the world outside doesn’t exist, and that makes you whimper into his kiss.
Javi is a passionate lover, he pours himself in the intimacy with total abandon. Forgetting everything else but the way you move under him and respond to every thrust.
His thrusts are deep but unhurried, making your chest heave against his, his hand coming up to squeeze your breast and you whine his name. "Feel so good, baby. Better. It's gotten better." You moan, wrapping your legs around him.
Your comment makes him huff against your chin, smirking slightly as he continues to rock into you. “And the next time will be even better.” He teases. “And then even better the time after that.”
"Fuck, you're gonna have me addicted to you." You tease, "gonna need to keep you in my bed every damn day to use your cock." You chuckle when he twitches inside of you. "And I want - God, I want you in it every day."
He groans, completely agreeing with your line of thinking. “Works for me.” He kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. “Pussy feels amazing and you are incredible.” He squeezes your breast gently.
You smile at his words, glad he’s on the same page, and you rock your hips up to grind against him, moaning when his pelvis rubs your clit. “Fuck yes. There.” You pant when he hits something incredible inside you and his pelvis rubs your clit. “Keep - keep going. Just like that.”
He pants, trying to keep his hips angled the same way. Wanting to hear you moan again. “There?” He asks, huffing proudly when you nod. “Yes, just- oh god.” You whimper, making him rock his hips a little harder, knowing you are close to cumming.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ja-" You cut yourself out with a cry as you clamp down on his cock, lost in the sensations of your orgasm while he continues to rock into you as best he can while you squeeze him.
He grits his teeth, hissing in pleasure as he works you through that orgasm. Loving how your walls spasm around him and flutter. Your eyes skip closed and your head tilts back, letting him kiss along your chin as he works you through and pushes towards his own.
The pleasure makes your toes curl and you whimper, walls fluttering around him. "So good. So good, baby. Want - need you to cum for me." You plead, scratching down his back as you rock your hips to meet his.
Your lips meet his and he groans into your mouth, ramping up his thrusts and hearing his hips slap against the back of your ass as he fucks you. Grunting in pleasure as he gets closer and closer.
The moment he falls apart makes you moan into his mouth, your tongue sliding against his when his groan vibrates against your lips and his cock twitches inside of you. You caress his back, letting him rock himself through his climax.
“Fuck.” He hisses, kissing you again and collapsing against you for a moment. He can savor it, rest for a second and not immediately pull away. It’s not like you’re behind the diner this time. He kisses you softly a few more times before he finally reaches between you to grip the base of his cock to make sure the condom stays in place.
It’s impossible to not relax into the sheets beneath you. Your body buzzing from the orgasms and you watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it into the bin near your bed. “Come here, handsome.” You order, dragging him back into your bed so you can pull him close to kiss him. “That’s was so damn good.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair.
He chuckles, his head leaning against the headboard and his arm comes around you as you snuggle against him. “Damn good.” He agrees. “Want a cigarette but I don’t want to move.” He’s relaxed and blissful right now, body humming with pleasure and making him a little drowsy.
“I’d offer you one but I don’t smoke.” You murmur, caressing his chest, “you maybe want to come over for dinner? When you’re free?” You ask, wanting to see him again even if he’s not left your place yet. You want to keep this going.
“When?” He asks, even though he’s not even digested the last meal that you’ve shared together.
“Whenever you’re not working. I work the day shift tomorrow so I'm free tomorrow night. If that’s not too soon?” You bite your lip, wondering if he’s going to get scared off by you being too eager.
He smirks as he looks down at you. “Whatcha making?” He asks playfully. “Have to be pretty good to beat those pancakes and pussy.”
**** 
“Fuck baby, I’ve got fifteen minutes.” Javi grumps against your lips, fumbling with his belt and pushing you against the wall of the diner again. It’s been two weeks since Thanksgiving and he’s been over at your place every night since the first date. Chucho chuckled whenever he saw Javi, sometimes he was only home to wash his clothes or change. “Fuck, pull my cock out and I’ll get the condom.”
You whine when he pulls back and you work on opening his pants to pull his hard cock out of his uniform. “Shit, Javi. Hurry up. I need you.” You plead, knowing you don’t have a lot of time and you want to have him inside you again. You’ve had sex every day since the first day you met, you’re addicted to him, and you desperately need him right now.
“Hurrying, baby, fuck.” He twitches in your hand and nearly laughs in relief when he finds the condom he has stuck in his pocket when he got dressed this morning. He had known he was coming since you are working the late shift tonight and won’t be home until late. Your house feeling like home to him since he’s spent nearly every night there. “Fucking thought about this all damn day.” As he pushes your panties down, he kisses you again and pushes the condom into your hand before he slides his hand between your thighs to rub your clit.
You fumble to open the foil packet, letting it drop to the ground as you work fast to roll the condom down his length despite his fingers working your clit. “Fuck. Me too. All damn day. Think of you whenever anyone orders the breakfast.” You moan, squeezing his length. “Come on, baby. Fuck me.” You plead and let go of him.
He’s shuffling between your thighs and grips your leg to lift it up and position himself before he’s pushing deep. Swallowing your soft cry of pleasure and giving you a groan of his own as he immediately starts to fuck you.
He stretches you out and you whine, tilting your head against the wall of the diner, his lips immediately attaching to your skin there. “Oh God.” You pant, gripping his shoulders as he thrusts into you, still dressed in the uniform you love.
Javi grunts, driving into you over and over again his knees hit the wall behind you. “Fuck baby.” He’s completely wrapped up in you, hasn’t even thought about Lorraine since that second date with you. He’s been happier and lighter since you’ve been with him.
He grunts as he rocks into you, knowing there's a diner full of customers that haven't got a clue that you are outside getting fucked by the handsome cop who came in for coffee and a donut. "So good, Jav." You whimper, lifting your thigh a little higher and he pushes deeper, making you moan. You were wet as soon as you saw his patrol car pull up and you are already climbing to your climax.
“Cum for me baby.” He begs against your pulse, pressing kisses to your galloping pulse and scraping his teeth over your skin. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me.”
You can't deny his request, your pussy fluttering around his cock until you fall over the edge. Gripping his uniform in your fingers, you clamp down on his cock with a cry out his name you can't guarantee the diner didn't hear, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
Javi is cumming right after you are. Pent up from thinking about this, about you all day. He’s groaning your name and moving up to capture your lips in a searing kiss as he floods the condom with ropes of his seed as his knees buckle slightly.
You love how he feels when he cums, the way he tenses up, and you slide your hands down, caressing his badge as he pants against your lips. "That was a nice surprise." You smile, "I love when you come to see me at work."
He hums as he kisses you again. “Wanted to come see you.” He admits. “I’ll be back when you close the diner.” He kisses you again and starts to pull out of you gently. “Make sure you get home safe.”
You smile, “my hero.” You coo and watch as he ties off the condom while you pull your panties up and push your dress down your thighs. “I’ll see you later then. You want a coffee to go?” You ask and he nods, playfully smacking your ass once he’s all tucked away. You gasp, smacking his chest, and you walk back into the diner to grab him that cup while Adrian eyes you from the kitchen window. “Here you go, baby.” You murmur as you hand him the cup, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you later, officer.” You love how he winks before he strides out of the diner, eyed by several of the women but you know you’ll be in the one in bed with him later.
At the end of his shift, Javi pulls back up to the dinner again. Parking the car and turning off the engine while he watches you work through the windows. You move with grace, picking up the condiment bottles to wipe down and store for the night. It had been a hard end of shift, he had a young boy die in his arms. A drug overdose. Hours spent at the hospital and plenty of paperwork, but the worst part was telling those poor parents their son was never coming home. He sighs softly as he sets out of the car and leans against the hood, lighting up a much needed cigarette.
You see Javier waiting for you after you lock the front door and Adrian lights his own cigarette. “That one will be trouble for you, mark my words.” He says and strides off, “goodnight.” You call out to him and shove the keys in your purse, making your way over to Javier. “You look stressed.” You observe, “what happened?” You ask as you step closer to wrap your arms around him.
His arms wind around you and he drags you close, needing your warmth to chase away to sorrow. “Had a kid die tonight.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion. “Overdosed on cocaine.” He swallows harshly and sighs. “Fucking sixteen years old. In the fucking morgue.”
“Shit.” You murmur, resting your cheek on his chest, feeling his heart pound. “I’m so sorry, baby. That - I can’t even imagine.” You hold each other, knowing how his job takes a toll on his mental health. He feels helpless sometimes and doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, pulling back to look at him.
“I know.” The compassion and worry shines out of your eyes, making him fall for you just a little harder. You are gorgeous, kind, compassionate and warm. Exactly the kind of woman his mother would have picked for him if she had been alive. She would have loved you. He reaches out and cups the back of your neck to drag you to him for a desperate kiss, needing to feel something other than loss.
You kiss him fiercely, wishing you could take away the pain in his eyes, and he’s so damn brave. Not many people could handle that job. You peck his lips when he pulls back, “let’s go back to mine. Get some food.” You caress his cheek and he nods, walking you over to your car. “I’ll see you at home.” You promise and slide into your car. He waits until you’re pulling out of the parking lot to get in his car and follow you to your house.
He hopes that you don’t mind his cruiser outside your house, but you’ve never said a word about it. He doesn’t have the energy to go back to the ranch and get his truck. Drained emotionally and needing something that he can’t say out loud. He needs comforts that only you can provide.
When he walks behind you while you’re unlocking the front door, you nearly drop your keys but you manage to open it. You step inside and groan when you step out of your shoes and throw your purse down. He works on removing his holster, kicking off his shoes, and you turn around when he removes the cuffs. “Give those to me.” You demand, holding out your hand. His eyebrows raise, “you want me to use them on you, hermosa?” He asks and you smirk, “no. I want to use them on you.”
He’s surprised by your answer, but he trusts you. Only frowning slightly as he hands them over and finishes removing his utility belt and radio. He turned it off at the end of his shift, but he’s happy to have the damn thing off. “What do you plan to do?”
“I want you to strip down and I’m going to handcuff you to my bed. Make you forget about everything except how good I’m making you feel.” You explain as you step closer to him, “and I want to make sure you have the key.”
You nod, setting the key down on the counter to make sure it’s safe, and you bite your lip, “strip down. Now.” You order, “I want to see all of you, baby.” He nods, reaching up to start unbuttoning his shirt and you watch him with hungry eyes.
Stripping down is almost cathartic, the weight of his duties sliding off like his clothes. He hesitates on his briefs but you nod. “Those too.” And he hooks his fingers under her elastic band and drags them down so he is standing naked in your entryway. His cock is half hard, but he doesn’t shy away from you seeing him.
You love how strong he looks but you want to break him down, let him take the weight of the world off his shoulders. “Go lay on my bed.” You order, “I’ll be in there in a second.”
He nods, turning and walking down to the bedroom and pulling back the covers to lay in the familiar sheets. He watches the door, getting even harder at the prospect of turning everything over to you and letting you control his pleasure
You strip down to your underwear, leaving him to wait for you, and you grab a cup of ice, bringing it with you along with the handcuffs. You want to take him out of his mind and you love how he looks in your bed, his cock resting on his lower stomach as he waits for you. “Hey baby.” You smirk, striding over to the bed and you set the cup of ice on the nightstand. “You wanna give me a safe word in case you want out of the handcuffs?”
He’s rolling his eyes and snorting. “Let me out of the fuckin’ cuffs.” He chooses, smirking when you huff at him. “I’m good, baby. I promise.”
You giggle, “whatever you say, babe.” You straddle him, loving the way he groans and you grab his wrist, lifting it to your headboard to cuff one hand. You work fast to secure his other hand and you look down at him, “fuck. You look good like this. At my mercy.” You scrap your nails down his chest, loving the way his cock twitches against your ass. You bend down to press your lips to his for a moment until you pull back, reaching for the cup on the nightstand. “What-?” He asks but you shush him, taking a piece of ice in your hand. You shuffle down his body, pressing the ice to his chest, chuckling when he hisses, and you slowly drag the ice cube over his nipple. He clenches his jaw at the coldness but you remove the ice cube and flick your hot tongue over it.
He hisses at the sensation, drawn to the contrast of hot and cold and how it makes his skin ache. You are distracting him, you are his distraction. Blanking out his mind to everything but your touch. “Take off your panties.” He grunts. “Want to feel your pussy on me.” He begs but you just smirk and shake your head. “I’m in charge baby.” You coo, caressing his cheek and dragging the ice cube down the edge of his jaw. “You just lay there and let me take care of you.”
He groans and you giggle, dragging the ice cube down his neck, your tongue following its path. He hisses and you smile against his skin while you circle his other nipple with the ice. It’s melting fast and soon you are flicking your tongue over his nipple while you grab the cup of ice to get another cube. With the new cube in hand, you drag it down his belly, pressing hot kisses in the wake of the cold until you approach his cock. You settle between his legs and drag the ice along the underside of his cock that rests on his belly. He hisses and you smirk, removing the ice to drag your tongue along the same path, taking the head of his cock into your hot mouth.
“Fuuuuuck.” Javi hisses, eyes closing and his head tilts back against the pillows. His arms are stretched above his head and he loves how you are making him forget everything. It’s beautiful, all he can think about is what you are doing to him and how he wishes he could touch you. “Fuck yes baby,” he groans, opening his eyes and looking down. “Try- try the ice in your mouth.” He pants.
You pull off of him, shoving the small ice cube in your mouth then you take him again. The hot and cold are a striking contrast and you groan at the way his cock twitches in your mouth while you drag the ice cube down his length.
“Shit- oh fuck!” The handcuffs rattle slightly as he tugs against them and he can't help but try to rock his hips up. “You are - fuck - you are so goddamn perfect.” 
He would deny he has ever whimpered in his life, but an almost tortured sound comes out of his mouth. Jaw slack and eyes closed again in pleasure as you suck his cock. “Fuck- I want- fuck, I want to lick your pussy.” He groans.
You should deny him. Make sure this is only about him, but his whimper and plea are so delicious. You pull off his cock and shift off the bed, shoving your panties down and taking your bra off. “You want me to sit on your face, baby?” You ask as you straddle his stomach, letting him feel how wet you are. “Please baby.” He huffs and you giggle, shifting up until you’re straddling his face. His hot breath washes over your folds and you lower your cunt to his mouth while gripping the headboard.
Javi can be generous, but he’s more so with you. He’s a little submissive. Something he had never had in a relationship before, something he never even thought about wanting but it seems natural with you. Sometimes you need him to give you what you need and right now, you are giving him what he needs. His tongue slides through your folds greedily, hungry for the taste of you and to give you a bit of the pleasure you give him.
You gasp his name as his hot tongue slides through your folds and flicks over your clit. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, trying not to grind down on his face when his hands are cuffed. You let go of the headboard to squeeze your breast with one hand, closing your eyes at the sensation, and you squeal when he sucks on your clit. “Javi, baby, you’re so good. Such a good boy.”
His neglected cock twitches at that statement and he should be pissed but he’s not. He’s liking it. He groans into your folds. Licking at your clit as much as he can.
You rock your hips, grinding down onto him as you reach back to wrap your fingers around his cock, wanting to feel him twitch in your hand while you rock on his tongue.
Javi groans happily into your cunt, bucking his hips up into your grip. Right here is where he could die happy, buried in your pussy with your hand wrapped around his cock. He’s never had the kind of feelings for someone like he feels for you, wanting to put you first instead of himself.
You work yourself on his tongue and it doesn't take long for you to fall apart above him, squeezing his cock as your thighs smother his face. "Fuck!" You cry, nearly falling backwards as you cum on his face.
Javi chuckles breathlessly, knowing that if he was uncuffed, he would flip you over and push into you right this second. He loves how you cum shamelessly, loving orgasms and sex as much as he does and you don’t play coy or demure.
You pant as you relax above him, releasing his cock from your grip, and you shift off his face. “I’m gonna ride you now.” You tell him, moving to grab a condom from your nightstand. “Gonna need a new box.” You tease as you straddle his thighs, opening the condom to roll it down his cock.
“That’s because we fuck all the time.” Javi groans as you wrap your hand around him and roll the rubber down his length. He smirks. “You’re addicted to my cock.”
“Don’t hear you complaining, officer Peña.” You snort and shift closer until you’re positioning him at your pussy so you can sink down onto him. “Fuck. I am addicted.” You confess breathlessly as he stretches you out. “I love it.” You whimper, shuffling a little until your knees are digging in the mattress so you can start to move on top of him.
“You look good on my cock.” Javi praises breathless. “Feels even better.” He watches your tits bounce slightly and groans when you swivel your hips and clench down around him. “Fuck, one day-“ he pants. “One day I’m gonna feel you without the condom.”
“I’m on the pill. I just - I wasn’t sure what you wanted.” You confess, “you want to feel me bare? Fill me up? Cum inside me? Officer?” You coo as you lean closer, pressing your lips to his chin as you rock back onto him.
Javi groans and chases your lips, huffing out a curse when you pull away from his reach and he can’t drag you back. “Yes, fuck yes.” He hisses. “Want to feel you bare around my cock.”
You know it’s a rash decision but you’re lost in the lust and security that you take the pill like clockwork. You shift back and lift off his cock, pulling off the condom, and you moan as you notch him back at your entrance, slowly sinking down to feel all of him without the barrier between you.
Javi moans your name, his hands curling into fists and he curses that he can’t touch you. “Fuck baby, yes.” He groans. “Just like- fuck- move.” He begs.
You chuckle, loving how wrecked he looks, and you shake your head. You stay still on his cock and he tries to rock his hips but you clench your thighs to stay still. "Hermosa." He whines and you lean forward, pressing your lips to his, "fuck, I love to hear you beg. Now I want to hear you moan." You murmur and rock back onto his cock, starting a pace that makes you look like you're in the Kentucky Derby.
His toes curl in pleasure and his entire body tenses. “Fuck!” He yelps, wanting more and not sure that he can take it. You are perfect, tight and hot around him and like a vice when you roll your hips just the right way. You’re beautiful and he loves it.
You love how wrecked he looks, his eyes glazed over as you rock on top of him. “Feel so good, Javi, baby. Oh shit. Feel like you’re in my guts. I love this.” You pant, your palms slapping against his chest as you ride him.
He’s never been such a passive participant in sex but all he can do is let you ride him, his hips are planted against the bed. His cock twitching every time you slam back down on him. “Fuck you need to cum.” He begs. “Cum baby, I’m not gonna last.”
He’s so whiney and you love it, reaching down to rub your clit, and you moan his name. “Feel so good, baby. I’m gonna - shit. Oh - oh!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock and you soak him, loving how you feel every vein and ridge of his cock.
You clamp down around him and his feet curl in pleasure and he can’t help but rock his hips up. Your hips have stalled and you aren’t moving as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck baby, fuck, fuck.” He hisses, feeling his body pulling tight.
You want to see him fall apart, feel it inside you, so you grip the headboard over his head, stretching over his body. You slam your hips down against him, the sound filling the room and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up. Want you to cum inside me.”
It’s like he needed your permission. Rocking his hips up, your name is called out loudly as he buries his cock deep and paints your walls with his seed. Panting and whining as he rides out the best fucking orgasm he’s ever had. “Fuuuuuuuck.”
The sensation of his hot cum filling you up has your walls fluttering around him again, a soft cry escaping your lips while you grind back against him. “Oh God.” You pant, shifting to press your lips to his as his cock twitches inside you.
Javi takes control of the kiss even if he can’t pull you closer. His tongue sliding into your mouth possessively and his moans flowing into your mouth as he rides out his orgasm. Only tempering the kiss when you collapse against him in pleasure.
Panting against his jaw, your body is buzzing but you manage to shift off him, fumbling for the key you placed on the nightstand next to the cup of now melted ice. You reach up, wanting to release him from the cuffs, and manage to free him after some struggle to get the key in during your post orgasm haze.
Javi watches you fumble with the key, his smile soft and he lifts his head to kiss right above your breast. “I love you.” He murmurs softly.
You are surprised, eyes widening and you stop what you’re doing to look down at him. He stares back and you see the apprehension in his eyes until you grin, “I love you too.” You surge down to press your lips to his, “I love you.” You murmur between pecks. “Let me -” You manage to finish unlocking his hands, the handcuffs heavy as you set them down on the nightstand.
His arms go around you, pulling you close and rolling you onto your back so he is hovering over you. Caging you with his body. “You have been the best thing to happen to me.” He promises, kissing you again. He’s not a man who gets sappy or waxes eloquent poems or constantly says ‘I love you’ but he shows he cares and he is happy you feel the same way. Feeling like this is supposed to be.
You can’t stop smiling, sliding your fingers through his hair and down his shoulders, “I love you, baby. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” You promise and sigh, feeling safe and warm in his arms. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have met him, to have him.
He kisses you again, rolling over and tucking you into his side. “Give me about ten minutes and I’ll show you how bad I can be.” He teases playfully, closing his eyes and sighing happily.
You giggle, caressing his chest, and you close your eyes. You never imagined you’d find someone like Javier and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. You hope he’s your person.
**** 
“Why are you nervous?” Javi chuckles as he holds your hand, pulling up to the small ranch house. “He’s going to love you.” It’s only two days later, but Javi knows that it’s the perfect time to introduce you to his dad. Wanting this to be permanent and let you get over the big ‘meet the family’ fear that you have.
You squeeze his hand, “I don’t want him to think - we got together so soon after you broke up with Lorraine and I just - I don’t want him to think less of me.” You confess with a shrug, “it’s, uh, it’s important that he likes me.” You bite your lip and look at his childhood home.
“Baby, he’s gonna love you.” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “He never really liked Lorraine, to be honest.” He flashes you a grin. “So you’re already better.”
You chuckle, relaxing a little, and you let him open your door before you walk to the front door and Chucho opens it, a big smile on his face. “So you’re the reason my son can’t stop smiling nowadays.” He winks and Javi blushes, “Pa.” He says and Chucho tuts, “he’s never here but I can see why. He didn’t exaggerate your beauty.” He says and you fluster, reaching for his hand and he pulls you in for a hug. You tear up a little, reminded of your father and how long it’s been since you had a hug like this, and you hug him back. “Javi said you are a charmer. I guess that’s where he gets it.” You tease and Chucho chuckles, guiding you into his home, and you immediately feel at ease.
Javi smiles at the way his dad is flirting with you. He would barely talk to Lorraine and it’s just another indicator that he has made the right choice with you. “Let me get everyone a drink while you two talk.” He winks at you and goes into the kitchen.
You sit down on the sofa with Chucho and demand he tells you about Javier and he chuckles, “Oh, I have some stories.” He begins to tell you about a teenage Javier and you hear the phone ring.
Javi rolls his eyes as he picks up the phone. “Peña residence.” He answers like he has his entire life. “Javi.” He groans and turns towards the kitchen door to make sure you don’t hear him. “Why the fuck are you calling, Lorraine?” He demands quietly.
“I’m surprised I got you. I’ve heard all about your little diner skank that you’ve been fucking. My friends have seen you around town. Told me all about your little dates. You never took me bowling.” She huffs and Javier rolls his eyes, “what do you want?” He demands again and she snorts, “I was calling to tell you I’m pregnant. I just found out. Went to the doctor to make sure and I’m about ten weeks.”
Javi’s stomach drops, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut. “Bullshit.” He huffs, “we used a condom every time.” Lorraine scoffs. “You know it’s not one hundred percent.” She reminds him and he shoves his hand through his hair. “So what? You need money for an abortion?” He asks, hoping that she wants to get rid of the baby.
She scoffs, “I’m not getting rid of it. I’m keeping the baby.” She declares, “and I want us to meet. Try and work this out. I know your dad will kill you if you don’t stand by me, do the right thing. You need to take responsibility for your actions, Javier.” Lorraine announces and hears his heavy breathing through the phone.
Fuck. Javi’s eyes close and he screws his face up in anger and confusion. She's right, Chucho would kill him. “Goddamnit.” He hisses, angry at himself because he’s going to have to break up with you. “Yeah, fine.” He spits out. “Tomorrow.” He hangs up the phone and sighs.
You are laughing at something Chucho says when Javi walks back into the room, looking a little pale. “Everything okay, babe?” You ask and frown when he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah.” He murmurs and hands you a coke and his pop a beer. “Everything’s good.” He shrugs. “Got asked to take a double shift tomorrow.”
You nod, not sure if you believe him, but you can ask him later and you watch him as you sip your drink. He’s tense, like when he’s had a bad shift, but you try to focus on Chucho, wanting to make a good impression. Soon enough, you’re saying goodbye to Chucho with a promise to see him for dinner and Javier guides you to his truck to drive you home and you’re hoping he stays the night again since you don’t have an early shift. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, reaching out to caress his arm as he drives, “you seem so tense. You need a blowjob?” You tease, sliding your hand down to his lap.
“No.” He grabs your hand before you can touch his cock and laces his fingers with yours. “No, I’m good, baby.” He promises you. “I just have a headache.” He’s fucking praying that this is some kind of horrible joke or desperate attempt to get him back and he can tell her to fuck off and then explain everything to you. “I’m sorry I’m not better company tonight.”
You stare at him until you nod, “it’s okay. I have some Advil if you want.” You offer but he shakes his head, “I think I need an early night. Too many damn long shifts.” He says and you bring his hand up to kiss the back of his. “Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you later.” You promise, not wanting him to get sick because he’s working too hard. He pulls up outside your house and you shuffle closer, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. “It was great to meet your dad. I really like him. Good thing when I love his son.” You smirk and nudge your nose against his when he turns towards you.
“I love you.” The gruff words come out a little desperate, like he wants you to remember that in the future. He kisses you, devouring your mouth in one last kiss like it will be his last and he hates to break away. “Goodnight baby.”
You peck his lips, “goodnight, handsome.” You pat his chest and grab your purse, shifting out of his truck and you make your way to your front door, feeling his eyes on you as you unlock your door. You wave to him before you step inside and he sits there for a second until he finally pulls away. He needs to speak to Lorraine.
**** 
It takes him two days to call you. Swallowing harshly as the phone connects, his heart leaps when he hears your voice but he hates what he has to do. “Hey, it’s me.” He announces. “Hey baby, I’ve tried to call you.” You pout softly, and he closes his eyes. “Yeah I know. Listen - I, this isn’t working out. Okay?” He tells you. “I’m not gonna string you along. So yeah.”
You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut when you hear his words. You choke, trying to get your voice to work, “I- I don’t understand. What’s - why?” You blink, trying to stop the tears. “It’s just too much. I don’t want anything too heavy. I want to have fun.” He lies and you frown, “I didn’t want - I didn’t - okay.” You choke on a sob, “uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He hums, “yeah. Goodbye.” He says your name and the line goes dead. You sob, letting the phone hang from the cord and you collapse on the wall.
**** 
“Why the fuck do you want to go here?” Javi protests, pulling away from Lorraine as she steers him towards the dinner. “What does it matter?” She smirks at him and reaches for his hand again. “You’re through with her, right? So she’s just a waitress.” Javi shakes his head. “Goddamnit Lorraine.” He hisses and she pouts, stroking her flat stomach. “Don’t curse, it’s not good for the baby.” She’s been smug about their relationship, happy that he is back with her, even if she knows that he is unhappy. 
You are clearing a table when the bell above the door rings and your eyes widen when you see Javier and Lorraine. “Son of a bitch.” You mutter, unable to believe he’s back with her. He told you stories about how she would bully him into working for her dad, or calling in sick. She is controlling and you can’t believe he’s gone back to her. Maybe you were just a bit of fun. Your coworker offers to take the table but you shake your head, knowing you can’t run and hide. You walk over to their table and set some menus down. “Can I get you anything to drink?” You ask after you introduce yourself, feeling Javier’s eyes on you as you look at Lorraine.
“Baby, what should I have?” She asks coyly. “You’ve been here so much more than I have.” She flutters her lashes at Javi and he huffs, pulling his hand away when she reaches for him and leans back. “Just order a fucking drink.” He hisses, wishing that she had chosen any other restaurant in Laredo, but he’s sure she’s done this on purpose.
“I can’t have coffee. Maybe decaf.” She hums and you nod, “I’ll get you a decaf.” wondering if she has sleeping issues. You grab Javier a coffee without him asking and set them both down on the table after you breathe deeply at the coffee pots. “Can I get you anything to eat?” You ask, trying not to cry at how insane this situation is. “There’s a lot of things I can’t have but I’m starving. I’m eating for two.” She grins, placing her hand on her lower stomach. Your eyes widen and you nearly drop your pad, feeling like your heart has been crushed and you finally look at Javier.
Javi wants to just disappear, his eyes find yours and he begs you to understand. “Ten weeks.” He chokes out, wanting you to know that he didn’t cheat on you. This is a fucked up situation and he wishes it was you sitting opposite him.
You swallow harshly, knowing he got her pregnant just before he met you and it stings. You want to crawl under the table and sob but you won't give Lorraine the satisfaction. "Co-congrats." You offer him a weak smile and she beams, "we are so happy." Javier doesn't look happy but you tap your pen on your pad, "food?" You choke and Lorraine hums, ordering the oatmeal and Javier orders the All American just like he did the first time you met him. "Coming right up." You squeak and slam the ticket down for Adrian who offers you a look that says "I told you so" and you rush out the back door, covering your mouth as you try to not cry.
“Where are you going?” Javi is halfway out of his seat when Lorraine grabs his arm. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He hisses, jerking his arm away from her. “Quit being a bitch.” He turns around and strides towards the back door, bypassing the bathrooms.
The door opens and you are leaning against the wall when you see him walk towards you. "Don't" You plead, shaking your head. "Don't make this worse. Just go back in there and - and be with her." You plead, knowing that hearing his excuses will make you cry.
Javi stops and takes a breath. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He promises you. “I’m so fucking sorry, hermosa.” He whispers before he turns back around and leaves like you want him to.
You watch him go until he heads back inside and you tilt your head back, refusing to let the tears fall and give Lorraine the satisfaction. You know he didn't cheat on you and that's what makes this worse. You love him but he has to be there for his child. Javier isn't the kind of man to walk away from responsibility and you know that's what he is with her. Time wasn't on your side and that's tragic. You compose yourself and walk back in, grabbing the food from the hot plate and you set it down. "Enjoy." You say flatly and walk off, leaving them to eat. When they are done, you remove the plates - Javier's food is hardly touched- and set the check down, not saying a word. Javier grabs his wallet and sets down more cash than the check. You don't walk over there to grab it, watching as Lorraine makes a show of getting out the booth and placing her hand on her stomach like she's seven months gone. "Thanks so much." Lorraine smirks, "maybe we will be back here with our baby for breakfast after church. We will see you then." She chuckles and grabs Javier, his eyes meeting yours and he nods before she is dragging him from the diner. You don't see Javier again. You decided, just before Javier's wedding day, to go on a trip. Get out of town and escape from the news that your love had gotten married. You don't hear the news that he didn't marry Lorraine until you return. When you're back. you hear that Javier had left to go join the DEA. Timing was never on your side.
**** 
“Where do you want to go eat?” Chucho asks and Javi shrugs. “Don’t know too many places open on Thanksgiving.” He answers, although he immediately thinks of the diner. He’s driven by there a few times in the days since he’s been home, but he’s never stopped in. “Well, damnit, I’m hungry.” His dad grumbles and Javi shakes his head. “Come on.” He huffs, grabbing his jacket. “Since you didn’t go grocery shopping, let’s go somewhere. Maybe they are still open on Thanksgiving.”
You smile at the old man who gives you a large tip for the holiday. You shove the money in the tip jaw to be split between you and Adrian when the bell rings. You turn around and your eyes widen when you see Chucho followed by a man you haven't seen in years. You inhale sharply, walking over to them. "Chucho. It's good to see you." You smile at the old man who you've seen at the store and around town several times. He never tried to justify his son's behavior and you never held malice towards him. "Happy Thanksgiving." You say and glance around, "pick any table. I'll get you some menus."
Javi stares, unable to believe that you are here. It’s like he’s dreaming like he has so many times before, coming into the diner to find you waiting for him. He murmurs your name and nods. “Good, uh, to see you.” He tells you, his heart pounding but you have to hate him, or at least think he’s an asshole. He is an asshole for what he did to you.
You finally look at him and God, he's still so fucking handsome. He has more lines on his face, but he still makes your heart pound. You hadn't heard about a child being born so you don't know what happened but you had heard Lorraine is now married to some big wig oil guy living in Dallas with two kids. "Good to see you." You murmur, turning around to grab some menus.
Javi’s eyes drop down to your ass before he looks away guiltily. He doesn’t need to be eying you like he had a chance, you’re probably married and have a couple of kids by now. “You shouldn’t have let that one get away.” Chucho tells him, having watched the way his son watched you. “Colombia might have been different.” Javi sighs and leans back. “Yeah, I know.” He grunts, glancing back at you as you come back with the menus, “believe me.”
You set the menus down, “coffee?” You ask and both men nod. You walk off to grab the pot and two cups, hating how your stomach feels like lead around Javier. It’s been years but you still think about him. You’ve been in and out of relationships but no one ever stuck in your heart like Javier did. Ridiculous considering you were together for two months. “What can I get you to eat?” You ask, grabbing your pad.
Chucho orders the Thanksgiving special and looks towards his son. Javi doesn’t even glance at the menu, too busy staring at you. “The All American if you still have it.” He tells you softly, glancing at your hand and noticing that you aren’t wearing a ring. You might just not wear one at work, but he’s selfishly hoping you are single even though you deserve someone to love and worship you.
Your heart twists at the familiar order and you nod, “hash browns, not grits.” You remember and he offers you a soft smile that makes your throat tighten. “That’ll be right out.” You nod and take the menus, handing the ticket to Adrian. “She owns the place now.” Chucho tells his son, not having spoken to him about you until today.
Javi’s brow shoots up and looks over at your back, watching as you methodically organize the condiments to bring over to them. “She deserves it.” He murmurs, thinking that you deserved a lot of nice things in life. “How often do you come here?” He asks.
“Couple of times a month when I want breakfast.” Chucho confesses, “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business. She’s a good girl and I think you made a huge mistake letting Lorraine drag you along but it wasn’t my life. She is single, in case you were wondering. No husband or kids.” Chucho reveals quietly, tapping his fingers on the table.
“Pa.” Javi hates how his entire body thrills at the news that you are single. “She hates me. She has to fucking hate me after what I did.” He reminds his dad. “There’s not a chance in hell I would ever have another chance with her.” He watches as you turn back towards him and swallows. “Shit.”
You set the condiments down, feeling Javier’s eyes on you, and you smile at Chucho, “it’s good to see you again.” You tell his father, “your food will be out soon.” You walk away from the table, feeling Javier’s eyes on you and you reach for the menus, deciding to clean them off while you wait for their food.
“The least you could do is apologize.” Chucho huffs, making Javi’s shoulders round slightly. He knows that he owes you an apology and he sighs after a moment, tapping the table and standing up to walk over to you. “Can I talk to you?” He asks, sure that you will tell him to fuck off.
You glance at the empty diner and nod, gesturing for Javier to walk out the back door with you. You will let him give you his explanation, curious about why he didn’t end up marrying Lorraine. “Talk.” You order when you’re outside.
He’s nervous, rubbing his hands on his jeans and chuckles slightly. “Uh, so- uh, I owe you an apology.” He starts off. “I’m sorry. Lorraine called me, that day you met Pa and she told me she was pregnant.” He explains, knowing that it’s no excuse. “I was - shit, I was so angry at myself, because she wanted to get married for the baby, and I fucking just knew I had to marry that bitch.” He sighs. “And?” You prompt. “The night before the wedding she claimed she ‘had a miscarriage’.” He snorts. “I knew then that she had been faking the entire thing. Her cousin confessed. She knew we were together. Someone had see us out in town and she lied because she knew I wouldn’t shirk my responsibilities.”
You cross your arms, letting him sweat. You’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened. You huff, “did you not get her to take a pregnancy test?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she had a scan and a doctor’s test result.” You snort, “she’s inventive. Smarter than I gave her credit for.” You rub your forearms, “you really hurt me. I thought we had something. I really loved you. You devastated me and I had to work hard to recover from that, which is insane because we only dated for two months. You’ve been on my mind during every date I’ve been on. Compared every man I’ve been in a relationship with to you. I hated you for so long because you haunted me.” You shake your head and lower your arms, stepping back.
Javi sighs softly and doesn’t reach for you. “It’s safe to say you haunted me too.” He admits. “I- I came by your house.” He confesses softly. “The day I- my wedding day. I came to tell you how stupid I had been. How I wasn’t marrying her and that if you could take an idiot back, I would love you forever.” He flashes you a rueful grin. “You weren’t home that day. Or any day for the week that I came to your door.” He snorts. “Almost thought you had sold the house and moved.”
You stare at him, seeing the truth in his eyes, "I left town. Went away so I didn't show up at the church and try to get you to call it off." You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head. "I loved you so much I even considered telling you I'd be there for your child with Lorraine but I didn't want to be selfish and break up a family. I left and when I came back, I heard you'd joined the DEA. figured something had happened to the baby and you'd left Lorraine."
“Never was a baby, just a woman jealous that I had moved on.” He shakes his head. “I haven’t even dated since then.” You snort in disbelief and he nods. “I’m serious. I- fuck-“ he shuffles slightly in embarrassment. “I paid for sex when I needed it.”
Your eyes widen, "you paid for sex? You could've gotten sex for free every day night here." You chuckle and he shakes his head, "did it for intel on Escobar and for company, I guess." He shrugs and you smirk, "guessing you learned a few things down in Colombia?"
Javi smirks back at you and nods. “I have.” He admits. “Gave me a discount if I made them cum more than once.” He jokes.
"You must've gotten it nearly free." You playfully roll your eyes, remembering how good he was. "I've missed you. You look - you look like you've got the world on your shoulders." You observe, "not as carefree as I remember you."
“Colombia was tough.” He admits, shuffling slightly. “I’ve missed you too. A lot.” He had thought of you every day but figured that might be a little creepy. “You look good. Happy. You bought the place?”
“Yeah. Took some equity from my parent’s house to buy it when the old owner wanted to sell. I couldn’t imagine working anywhere else and I love it. It’s home for me.” You smile, glancing back at the diner. “I’m happy but not as happy as the time I spent with you.”
“Me neither.” Javi shuffles again and looks down at his feet before peering back at you. “I have no right to ask, and tell me to go to hell if you want, but how about I take you on a date?” He offers. “You might find I’m a miserable son of a bitch and the best thing I ever did for you was leave.” He shrugs. “And then you’ll at least get dinner out of it.”
You are shocked and bite your lip, uncertain of giving him a chance after how much he hurt you but you remember it wasn’t him, it was Lorraine. You nod, offering him a soft smile, “I’d like that. Just - just don’t hurt me again.” You plead softly, “you want to go get your food? It should be ready.”
“Only if you sit down with us?” He asks, smiling in relief that you are willing to give him another chance. Those two months were the best of his life and he still loves you now. Your memory helped him through some tough times and you didn’t even know it.
You nod, “okay.” You open the back door and Javier follows you inside. Adrian has the food ready so you grab it, carrying it over to the table, and Javier sits down, winking at you. You head over to grab a cup of coffee, “Adrian. You can take a break.” You tell the cook who grunts and eyes Javier through the window. You make your way back to the table with your cup of coffee and you take a seat next to Javier. Chucho’s eyes widen and you smile, flustered by the knowing look on the old man’s face.
“You apologize?” Chucho huffs and Javi rolls his eyes. “Yes, pa, I apologized. I have a lot to make up for.” He glances at you and smirks. “But I’ll grovel as long as I need to.”
You look at Chucho, “he has a lot of grovelling to do.” You tease and Chucho nods, “he absolutely does.” He raises his eyebrows at his son as he cuts up his food. After they eat, you clear the plates and Chucho goes to take out his wallet, “it’s on the house. Happy Thanksgiving.” You smile and Chucho shakes his head, “she’s always giving me free food.” He opens his wallet and pulls out some cash, “get yourself something nice or put it in the tip jar.” He says and it’s clear this is a routine the two of you have.
“How long are you going to be open for?” Javi asks after Chucho makes a comment about being out in the truck and leaving his son behind.
You glance at the clock, “not too much longer. I like to shut earlier on Thanksgiving nowadays.” You admit, “give Adrian time with his boyfriend and I was planning on having a bath.” You chuckle, “got myself some new bath bombs.”
Javi frowns for a moment before he understands. “Oh, those little fizzy things, right?” He asks, not having taken too many baths. He mainly sticks with showers. “That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be able to unwind.” He comments. “You still have the day after Thanksgiving off?” He asks. “Or does the boss work all the time?”
“I have Jean opening tomorrow so the boss has the day off. I was thinking about doing some Black Friday shopping. Unless someone else would like to do some groveling?” You hum, tilting your head at Javier.
He grins at you. “I think I should probably start, don’t you think?” He asks, shrugging slightly. “I can hold your bags if you want.”
“You hate shopping.” You remember and Javier chuckles, “exactly. Part of the grovelling process.” He winks and you smirk, looking at Chucho who is grinning. “Very well, Peña. Pick me up tomorrow at 10am. Bring your badge. I think it could come in handy in standoffs for the good stuff.” You wink and Javier snorts, “it’s a date.” You smile, “yeah. It’s a date.” You murmur softly, heart thumping again.
**** 
You hadn’t been lying when you said you wanted to go shopping. You’ve dragged him to every store in town, but Javi hasn’t complained. He’s let you shop and given you his opinion as you look through different items. The grin you throw at him occasionally tells him that you are testing him, but he just smiles back and offers to hold whatever bag you are carrying.
When you pull up outside your house, you turn towards Javier. He’s told you some things about Colombia during the day and you can see how haunted he is by his time there. You haven’t pushed but he’s not the Javier you knew, he’s deeper, darker, but there’s times where you see the funny, lighthearted Javier you loved and you know you’ve changed too. You still love him but now there’s more to love, no matter how dark those parts may be. You turn to look at him, “I think I need help taking all these bags into the house.” You hum, grabbing your purse.
“Of course.” He climbs out of the car and opens the back door. You’ve also got a ton of shit in the trunk, but he doesn’t complain as he starts to pile bags onto his arms. Hopefully he can get it all in two trips. Maybe three with that new coffee maker you bought at Belk.
You grab some bags and make your way to your front door, unlocking it, and you punch in your alarm code while Javier walks in behind you to place your bags down. You walk into the house to turn on the lights while Javier finishes his last trip for your things. He shuts your front door and you walk over to him, “thank you for doing that. Very good groveling.” You tease, placing your palms on his chest.
He huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes at you. “At least you’re having fun with this.” He tells you. He licks his lips and his eyes slide down to your mouth before he looks up again. “You need me to do anything else for you?” He asks, voice dropping slightly.
You bite your lip, knowing you shouldn’t rush into anything but you’ve lost so much time with him thanks to Lorraine. He left to go fight the bad guys in Colombia and you can’t blame him for doing what he thought was best. “You could kiss me.” You murmur and he nods, leaning in to press his lips to yours.
Kissing you is like coming home. Javi groans as you soften against him, folding you up in his arms and deepening the kiss. Almost fearful of being rejected he takes his time and slowly slides his tongue against your lips to beg for entrance.
You eagerly open your mouth, your tongue sweeping against his and his groan vibrates against your lips. The kiss makes your heart flutter and you slide your hands to cup his cheeks, pressing yourself against him and you’re brought back to that first night you slept with Javi.
Kissing you know is just as addictive as it had been so long ago. Maybe more so because he knows exactly what he has. He curls you into him, eager to taste every bit of your mouth and overwhelm you both with the passion the is mounting.
​​You can tell he’s changed. His kiss is harsher, more desperate, and you can sense the turmoil behind it compared to the playfulness of so many years ago. You let him back you against your front door, your fingers working on the buttons of his shirt while he hardens against your thigh. You whine when he pulls back from your lips, kissing down your neck while his hands fumble with the button of your jeans. You moan when his fingers slide under the denim, finding your clit, and you manage to get his shirt open, trailing your hands along his chest.
He needs to pull away and ask if you are okay with this, if you want him, but he can’t. Too afraid of rejection right now as his fingers caress your folds and rub circles on your clit. He promised you he would grovel and he huffs to himself as he kisses down your chest and mouths at your breast over your shirt and bra, biting sharply before he’s sinking down to his knees in front of you.
You look down at him in surprise, shocked that he’s on his knees, working on pulling your jeans down. “What are you doing?” You ask breathlessly and he looks up at you, smirking, “I said I’d grovel on my knees.” You chuckle, nodding as you step out of your jeans and he hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down. “I’ve missed you.” You gasp when he leans in to kiss your thigh.
“Missed you too.” He groans. “Missed this pussy. Your taste.” He presses his nose to the thatch of hair between your thighs and inhales. “Your smell. You have the best fucking smell, baby. Missed your laugh. Your smile.” Everything that he lists is punctuated with kisses around your pelvis and thighs. “The way you would curl against me to sleep.” He looks up at you. “I wasn’t lying to you, I loved you. I still love you.” He promises. “I never stopped.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at him. No one has ever compared to him and you know you'll always love him. You run your fingers through his hair, "me neither. Always loved you." You promise and he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. "Fuck." You pant as he flicks over your clit, his hands grabbing your ass to tilt your hips. You lift your leg onto his shoulder and you whimper when he wraps his arm around your thigh, burying his face in your cunt.
He’s sloppy and eager, rushing to make you moan his name again. He has dreamed of that sound for years. Closing his eyes and humming as his tongue flicks over your clit again and moves lower to push inside your wet walls. Drowning in your essence happily as he grovels before you.
It's been so long since you were worshiped like this and you tilt your head against the door, closing your eyes. "Fuck, Peña. Missed that tongue. You've gotten better." You observe, loving how he laps at you and it doesn't take long to work you up. You're soon panting, chest heaving, and your thigh shakes when he sucks on your clit. "Oh fuck!" You yelp, stomach twisting as you fall apart on his tongue.
His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as your knees threaten to buckle and he moans into your cunt. Working you through it with determination until you’re whimpering and then he’s pulling back with a satisfied grin. “Still tastes so good.” He praises, kissing your hip.
You drag him up from the floor, lowering your leg and you press your lips to his while you push his shirt off his shoulders. "Bed. Want you in my bed." You order, letting his shirt drop to the floor as you grab his hand and drag him to the same bedroom he knew those years ago.
He chuckles as he lets you take him wherever you want to go. “I want to be in your bed.” He promises, reaching out with his free hand and snagging your waist to drag you closer and pressing his lips to your again. Sliding his hands up your back to unclip your bra beneath your t-shirt.
You let him pull your shirt over your head after he breaks the kiss, dragging your bra down your arms, and you toss them to the floor as you stumble into your bedroom. "Fuck, you've gotten more handsome." You observe when he pushes you onto your bed and you bounce while he works on taking off his jeans as he kicks off his shoes.
​​“That’s you.” He huffs. “Prettier than the day I met you.” He kneels on the bed after he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it. “Fuck- I - I don’t have a condom.” He groans, eyes slipping closed. “I’ve been tested, but I-“
"I'm on the pill. I'm clean. I trust you. Please Jav. I need you." You know it's reckless but you want to feel him again. "If not, I have a condom." You add, wanting him to be comfortable and you bat his hand away to pump his cock.
“Fuck, you know I want to feel you.” He groans and rolls his hips into your firm grip. “Lay back and spread your legs, baby.” He begs. “Let me fuck you.”
You nod, spreading your legs, and he shuffles closer. When he notches himself at your pussy, your eyes flutter closed when he pushes into you. “Look at me.” He demands gruffly and you whimper, opening your eyes as he shifts to hover over you. You immediately cup his cheeks, bringing his mouth down to yours. You shouldn’t forgive him for breaking your heart but you need to. He was trying to do the right thing which was being with the mother of his child but you know he didn’t love her, he loved you.
Javi gives you everything in the kiss. Everything he has emotionally. Pouring himself into you as he slowly inches into your body. Sliding into your heat and feeling like he's come home again.
You caress his shoulders and down his back, loving how he feels. Your walls flutter around him as he stretches you out and you close your eyes, “love you, baby.” You murmur, feeling surrounded by him and you love how he starts to move. He feels more experienced and stronger but you don’t mind.
“Feel so good, so perfect.” He grunts, trying to keep from thrusting too deep or too hard so quickly. You probably haven’t had sex in a while and he doesn’t want to make even a second of this uncomfortable.
You can see how tense he is with the way he clenches his jaw and you want him to fuck you, to claim you. “Need more. Want you to make me yours.” You order, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Once you give him permission, Javi lets himself go. Snapping his hips harshly and filling you with hard strokes that gave him grunting as you clung to him. “Fuck, fuck.” He hisses. “Need this, need you.”
He takes your breath away as he thrusts into you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Your heels dig into his ass and your nails scratch down his back. “Javi!” You cry, watching his nose flare as he rocks into you. “I- shit - so close. Keep - just like that.”
He grunts, it’s all he can do right now as he rocks into you. Feeling like your walls gripping him is his salvation and losing himself in the soul searing pleasure.
Your walls flutter around him as you are pushed higher and higher. His lips press against your neck, shifting his body to kiss down and take your nipple into his mouth. It’s hot and he bites down, making you react immediately. You clamp down onto his cock, your moan of his name echoing in your room as you soak him.
It’s what he needed to feel. The hit clench of your walls around him, the slick drenching his cock. Javi groans your name, pushing deep as his thrusts falter and he starts to pulse inside you. Closing his eyes and your name becomes a prayer on his lips.
You kiss everywhere you can reach as he twitches inside you, painting your walls. He pants when he stills above you and you caress his back, your body buzzing with emotion. Tears sting in your eyes and you sniff, making him jerk his head up to look at you, “did I hurt you?” He asks immediately and you shake your head, “no. No. I’m just - I’m happy.” You murmur, “so happy that you’re here.” You confess and he kisses your lips, nudging his nose against yours before he kisses your forehead. “I’m not leaving.” He promises and you caress his cheek, closing your eyes. “I’m home, baby.” He vows. 
**** 
“Javi!” You call out, “can you get your Pa another beer?” You ask and Javier comes back from the kitchen to set a beer down on the table for his father and he sets your glass of wine down on the table. “Thanks babe.” You peck his lips when he leans in to kiss you and his head caresses the baby that you cradle. “How is he?” He asks and you smile, looking down at the baby. “Fed and ready for a nap with his daddy. Mama needs her wine. Good thing I have milk stored.” You chuckle and you adjust the baby in your arms to slide him into Javier’s arms so you can tuck your breast away. 
Chucho looks away to be polite and Javier carries the baby into his room, laying him down in his crib. He watches his son for a moment and caresses his cheek, grabbing the baby monitor. He walks back into the dining room and sets the monitor down, picking up his beer, “the food looks delicious, baby.” He says and you smile, “Javier did most of the work today. Adrian helped me prep. We split the cooking so he could take some home to his boyfriend.” You confess and Chucho hums, “it looks incredible, mija.” Javier raises his beer, “happy Thanksgiving.” He toasts and you clink your wine glass against his bottle and Chucho’s bottle. “To the day we met.” You toast back and Javier smiles, leaning over to kiss you softly. This Thanksgiving is very different from past ones. No longer hanging around a diner for a breakfast during his shift, this year he’s spending Thanksgiving with his Pa, his son, and his beautiful wife. He’s truly blessed.
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derinwrites · 7 hours ago
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Do you have any advice for writing in a web serial format?
Let’s look at this in two sections – the business part, and the actual writing part.
The Business Part
1. Consistency. Consistency in updates. Have a schedule and STICK TO IT.
If your schedule is too hectic and starts affecting your health or otherwise adversely affecting your life, change the schedule; update less often. Don’t update in spurts and then randomly stop. The audience will far more easily tolerate a slow schedule than an inconsistent one; an inconsistent one will lose many readers. You’re not Andrew Hussie and you can’t get away with that bullshit.
There may be times where you need to take a hiatus due to some emergency, life event, or health condition. This is fine – your wellbeing is more important than your story. But you need to be up-front with your audience about this; tell them you’re taking a hiatus and tell them exactly how long it’s going to be. If you can, you should tell them in advance (this isn’t possible for things like a car accident, but is very possible if you’re planning to, say, move house in a month). If you’re taking too many hiatuses, then it’s better to slow down your schedule and update less often. Audiences prefer fast and consistent, but if they have to choose, slow is better than inconsistent.
The #1 helper to consistency is having a big buffer – that is, have several weeks’ worth of unpublished chapters. The length of your buffer is personal taste, but I like to keep mine as long as possible so that if there’s some problem that stops me from writing for several weeks, it won’t upset the schedule. It keeps my stress down to know that I have that leeway. Other writers prefer to only write a week or two ahead, though, so different things work for different people.
2. Decide on your monetisation system early and prioritise it.
The most popular and most effective method for monetising a web serial seems to be the patronage method, which is the one I use. You set up a patreon, ko-fi, or whatever sponsorship system you prefer, and offer rewards to those who support you. Having their names in a credit list and getting access to advance chapters are very common rewards. Some people also lock access to their discord behind a paywall, or offer extra stories or let supporters name story characters.
This model is not the only way to make money from web serials. Some people make money via advertising, or selling merchandise, or use the web serial itself to advertise stories that they sell. You can of course use several revenue streams – you can have both a patreon/ko-fi and run ads on your website (I don’t because I hate ads, but you can), or start selling merch related to your story once there’s a demand for it. Many web serial authors (including myself) sell their completed works as books. But the important thing here is that one of these systems will be your main system, and you need to know what it is and behave accordingly. If you run ads AND have a patreon, are you more focused on ad revenue or patreon revenue? You’re going to have to put your time and attention into one of them over the other. You’re going to have to make decisions that will help one and harm the other. So know in advance which one is most important to you.
You don’t have to monetise your story at all, of course. Plenty of people write fiction on the internet for free every day with no thought to making an income at all. But if you’re serious about this, I would recommend monetising it, because that makes a better and more consistent product. The reason I’m still able to keep writing these year after year is that my supporters pay my mortgage; without Patreon and ko-fi, I’d have to get a different job, and wouldn’t have time or energy to write consistently. Also, the reason I can write and update even when I don’t feel like it, and the reason I always push to make my stories as good as possible even when I’m not interested, is because I owe it to my supporters who are paying me real actual money to read my work. If I didn’t owe my readers anything, none of these stories would ever get finished, because writing is only fun about half of the time.
3. Don’t expect to be able to turn this into a career.
This advice sounds silly coming from me, who has through sheer luck, as well as the generosity and passion of my readers, somehow turned this into a career. But I need to emphasise that that luck is not typical. Most web serial writers will not be able to support themselves solely with their writing. It can make a good side hustle, but if your primary goal is “low barrier to entry work-from-home career where I don’t have to answer to a boss and can support myself comfortably,” then web serial writing is usually all of those things except the last one. There’s no harm in trying to turn this into a career – I did it, as have many other web serial authors – but don’t expect that result, is all I’m saying.
Still, if you can do it, it does have a lot of advantages.
4. Don’t expect to make money fast.
I remember when I finally started making an entire $100/month on Patreon. It was a fantastic day.
It was when I’d been writing web serials for four years.
5. Your most valuable resource is your readership.
Your readership will grow and gather momentum over time. The best business decisions you can make are those that grow your readership and allow your readers to participate in community, even if you have to give up opportunities to make money to do it.
A good example of this is discord. Some people have private discords that only their patrons can access; while this is a useful anti-spam and anti-harassment tool, I don’t recommend doing this if you don’t have a major spam or harassment problem. Some people will pay for discord access, yes, so you might get a handful of extra dollars per month that way – however, you will also get a far less active discord. When it comes to readers, population density is critically important; the more activity, the more people talking about your work together (or talking about anything and bonding with each other), the better. Plenty of people have joined my free discord just because it was there and only read my stories after seeing people talk about them there. Then they go and get their friends to read the stories. Enthusiastic readers are inherently valuable, and the best thing you can do is give them the resources they need to talk to each other and share their interest.
This principle applies to a lot of things. I have a lot of free stories on my website that aren’t the usual web serials, and more than once I’ve considered whether they should be paywalled. The answer I always land on is ‘no’; I couldn’t tell you how many readers have been roped into my web serials because they liked Copy <|> Paste, or The Void Princess, or Drops of Blood. These readers may or may not then become monetary supporters, but even the ones who don’t will increase activity and discussion about the stories, have fun and tell jokes in the discord, and may even produce fanart. A thriving community is always going to be more valuable to you than a few extra dollars; make sure to support them accordingly.
Your readership will start very small. In terms of marketing, this is your hardest time. A big readership does the majority of the marketing for you, but when you’re on your own, it takes a lot to convince anyone to give your stories a shot. It helps if you have an existing readership to leverage, which is what I did – I’d been writing Animorphs fanfiction on AO3 for years, and many of my first readers followed me over from there. If you have such a community that already has faith in your writing, leverage it. If you don’t, you can gain one my writing in a place where people go to read stories similar to your work, such as an appropriate subreddit, or a web serial site like Royal Road or Scribblehub. You are looking to gain as high a number of enthusiastic, engaged readers as possible.
And now, the fun part – the actual craft!
The Writing Part
1. Always remember that you are writing for two audiences
A web serial author has to keep two audiences in mind; the serial readers, and the bingers. You are writing a story that needs to be fun and engaging when read very slowly, at the pace of whatever your update schedule is, but that also needs to be interesting when read all at once.
This is not an easy task.
It’s something I fucked up pretty significantly with Curse Words, which was my first attempt at this. Curse Words has a lot of complicated political stuff happening throughout pretty much the whole story, as well as a complex save-the-world plot that’s reliant on a lot of secrets, mysteries and extremely speculative information. With so many wheels spinning, I decided to make the protagonist not particularly smart and move him very slowly through the plot to make sure that the reader would be able to keep up.
This was a mistake.
‘Pretty slow and simple’ at a novel reader’s pace is torturous at a web serial pace. Readers got a full week to discuss the mysteries and implications of each chapter with each other, doing the detective work of ten chapters between each one. The frustration with Kayden’s slow pace was clear, and he came across as an outright idiot rather than an average teen. Personally, I think this lesson was one of the biggest reasons for the difference in quality between Curse Words and Time to Orbit. Don’t slow down for your audience; they’re already slowed down by your update schedule.
At the same time, though, you don’t want to move so fast that you lose the bingers. You can’t assume that your readers will have time between chapters, or that they will discuss each chapter with other readers, or that they will go back over previous chapters looking for clues. Interested people reading update by update will do this, but bingers absolutely will not. So you still need to make sure that everything is comprehensible on a binge read with no backchecking or outside investigation.
My advice on this matter is to move as fast as possible, but take care to make sure that readers are reminded of everything important a few chapters before it comes into play. That way, both audiences can keep up. If you have to make a decision, it’s best to favour your update readers; they’re your most active community. They’re doing the up-to-date discussion, and probably doing the most word-of-mouth and fanart, although binge readers will do that too (I have plenty of dedicated readers who wait five or six weeks to binge a bunch of chapters on purpose, just because that’s their preferred reading style, and they’re still very engaged). But if you plan to publish your story later as a complete work, you also need to keep in mind how it’s going to read as a binge – and also, new readers will binge the earlier chapters of your story to catch up to the current one, so make sure it’s a good experience for them or they won’t get a chance to become update readers.
Two audiences. Mind your pacing and information reveals accordingly.
2. Chapter length
The general rule of web serials is that the more often you update, the shorter your chapters should be. The generally agreed ‘sweet spot’ is 1-1.5k words, 3 times a week, but this depends heavily on individual style. I update once or twice a week (depending on what stories I’ve got going) and try to keep my chapters between 2 and 2.5k words. If you update once a month, your sweet spot is probably about 10k words.
Don’t hold religiously to what other people tell you the ideal word count is – this will vary drastically with genre and personal style – but it’s best to try to stay fairly consistent. It’s not always possible to stay exactly on target because the best break points between chapters will vary (I’ve got 1.8k chapters and 3.5k chapters), but readers like to be able to predict about how long an update will be and they like it to not vary too wildly too often. As with choosing your update schedule, choosing your chapter length will depend on what suits your personal schedule, and what suits the story you’re writing.
“The shorter the chapter, the more frequent the updates” is a good rule for attracting the widest audience. Short, infrequent chapters will have a lot of readers losing interest between updates; long, frequent ones will have a lot of readers feeling overwhelmed. But the most important thing is finding something that you can consistently output year after year (remember, it took me 4 years to make $100/month; this is a long game).
3. It’s a TV show, not a movie
This advice is less useful in our age of Marvel movie franchises and made-to-binge Netflix series, so pretend I’m talking to you in the year 2010 or earlier. If a novel is a movie, a web serial is a TV show. What I mean by that is that a novel is shaped primarily as a complete experience, whereas a web serial is shaped as a chapter-by-chapter experience.
It’s best, in both cases, to have a well structures and paced story that is made of well structured and paced chapters. But sometimes you have to choose between the structure or a chapter and the structure of the story as a whole; making one better will cheapen the other. When you’re writing a novel, you should choose the structure of the whole, but when you’re writing a web serial, you should choose the structure of the chapter. Web serial readers will prefer a chained series of excellent chapters, over a beautiful story of chapters with mediocre individual structure.
In fact, whether you want a structure to the overall story at all is personal taste. My stories have strong overall structure and move towards a planned conclusion because that’s how I prefer to write (and it also makes the story bingeable, since it’s basically a novel being released really slowly), but plenty of web serials out there have no real planned ending and will wander about for years and years in no obviously consistent direction, occasionally throwing in a big twist or major change to freshen things up. These would make absolutely horrible novels, but make very popular web serials. Whether you write like me or like them, the rule is the same – the experience of each individual chapter takes priority.
Come to think of it, this might be why people call my stories “ADHD crack”

4. Okay, so how do I structure a good chapter?
I generally try to do three things in every chapter.
- Hit the ground running
- Give them something new
- End on an open question
Hit the ground running – Unless it’s the very first chapter of the story, you don’t have to be coy getting into the action. Open the chapter as if it’s the middle of the chapter; start at full momentum. Catch the high point of the last chapter before it falls. It your last chapter ended with “We checked the fingerprints on the candlestick. It’s Colonel Mustard.” then you can start this one with “But he was in the library at the time!”, you don’t need to recap or slow down or anything.
Give them something new – Every chapter should give the reader at least one thing to talk and think about. A new choice, some new information, a shift in perspective, whatever. People are reading these updates one at a time so it is vital that they feel like they got something out of the experience. A chapter in which nothing is learned will make readers feel like their time was wasted, and they have all the time until next update to reflect on that.
This is also true of a novel, but it’s much more critical in a web serial. A novel with nothing chapters in it is just frustratingly slow-paced; a web serial with nothing chapters in it leaves the reader feeling cheated for long stretches of time.
The thing to talk about doesn’t necessarily have to be a big plot reveal or major advancement. An incredibly cute scene, or sad scene, or funny scene will work just as well. But you have to give them SOMETHING. If you’re giving them nothing, consider cutting the chapter entirely and integrating any important foreshadowing or whatever into the next chapter.
One major hurdle of mine with this rule is recap chapters. If you’re writing a very complex plot over a long period of time, you need ways to occasionally take stock and make sure everyone is on the same page and nobody’s forgotten or misinterpreted anything important. This information can be recapped or conveyed in the middle of an action sequence or something, but I personally find that putting other stuff in the scene makes it too distracting and therefore less effective. I like to literally just sit the heroes down in a room and have them go, “okay, we’re spinning a lot of threads at once right now; what do we know, what are we trying to figure out, and what are our next steps?” This is the literary equivalent of the save point or room full of health packs right before a boss battle. Game designers don’t put that room there to be nice; they do it so that they know exactly how much health you’re going to have going into the battle, and can structure it accordingly.
You can make these chapters entertaining with character banter, but you can’t really introduce new threads to talk about, except possibly as a twist right at the end. Introducing new information mid-recap distracts from the recap and makes it pointless. You might have something similar in your stories, chapters that are essential but don’t give the reader anything new to work with.
My advice for these is to just bite the bullet on this one. Release the chapter with nothing new to talk about. You can get away with doing this occasionally, if the chapter has a clear purpose (I get a lot of readers tell me that they appreciate my recap chapters). Readers who get nothing out of the chapter will shrug and talk about older stuff instead, so long as you only do this occasionally. But a chapter with no new information has a cost in opportunity and in reader patience, so only pay it if the chapter’s worth it.
End on an open question– End the chapter with a reason for the reader to come back. You want them to think about the story afterward and be eager to read the next chapter when it comes out. Adhering to this principle is probably why I have such a reputation for cliffhangers, although truth be told I don’t use nearly as many actual cliffhangers as people say, I just try to end by opening a question. By that I mean, the audience should always end a chapter asking a question, which can be something that will span dozens of chapters (“How can Colonel Mustard’s fignerprints be on the candlestick? Is he being framed? Does this mean that the candlestick was in the library and isn’t even the murder weapon?”) or span a single paragraph (“How will the narrator react to learning that Colonel Mustard lied about never touchign the candlestick?”) This could be the emotional height of a scene, or the point at which new information recontextualises everything. It could be the moment where the stakes are raised or an important assumption turns out to be false. Anything that makes the audience eager to learn what happens next will do.
There should always be at least one open question in your story, more if it’s thematically appropriate. You know how mmorpgs and crafting games and suchlike keep you playing for hours and hours by making sure you’re always near the end of an activity – keep playing til you reach the next level, oh but now we’re nearly at the end of this quest so we should complete that, oh but now we’re just 20 gold short of being able to buy that cool new armour so we should just
 same trick. Readers should always have at least one ‘quest’, an open question that they’re following, and should always be close to an answer.
You don’t have to dramatically introduce an entirely new question each time; you can end a chapter by reminding the reader of an existing open question. I tend to be a fan of the Big Dramatic Reveal On The Last Line method (cliffhanger reputation), but you don’t have to do it that way. Indeed, it’s a good idea not to do it that way every single time, lest you get stuck in a rut; every chapter ending doesn’t have to be incredibly tense and snappy. Somebody mentioning that they wish they knew how they could get enough food to make it through the winter before a full paragraph of cuddling and falling asleep in their mother’s arms works just as well.
5. It will help if your story is good, but it isn’t required.
You don’t have to be very good at writing to do this.
It helps to be good at writing, of course, and I assume that since you’re asking me for tips, you’re the sort of person who wants to be as good at writing as you can. But there is some true hack garbage out there doing absolute numbers in the web serial circuit. I try not to harp on about this too much because Curse Words fans get really upset at me when I do, but I think most of us can agree that Curse Words kind of sucks. And that just sucks in an ‘author is still learning how to do this’ kind of way; there’s much worse writing, real bullshit Ready Player One-level writing, trucking along out there brilliantly.
The point I’m trying to make here is that this isn’t an industry where there’s any value in hesitating and wringing your hands and asking yourself if you’re a good enough writer to do it yet. You are. You can just start writing a web serial right now and so long as you consistently update, you’re probably already above average for the market. And your first one probably will suck (mine did), but it’ll teach you how to make a better one. I think that Time to Orbit: Unknown is passably okay, and it absolutely would not be passably okay if I hadn’t written Curse Words first. Just go for it. Try to write a quality story if you can, but if you can’t, it’s honestly not that big of a deal. What matters, truly matters, is that you are committed to improving your craft. And that means actually practicing your craft. Which means writing some chapters and setting up a release schedule.
Good luck.
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aurynsia · 2 days ago
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Like The Movies
Sirius Black x Bookworm!Reader
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——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ àŁȘ ———————
Summary: You meet a mysterious man in a bookshop who falls for your sunshine personality

Warnings: Nothing serious (pun intended), grumpy x sunshine dynamic, Marlene once again being the best wingman (it’s a tradition atp), reader is referred to as a girl with she/her pronouns, reader is oblivious to Sirius’ flirting.
Word count: 0.7K
Masterlist
A/N: I couldn’t get this meet cute idea out of my head so I had to write it! Basically all fluff and no plot, Sirius just thinks you’re adorable <3
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ àŁȘ ———————
Ding!
The bell above the bookshop’s door rang in an echoing call as you stepped inside, a giddy smile spread across your face. You had finally finished your summer reading list, with a chilled breeze marking the end of your book-buying ban.
Preparing to hibernate in your cosy bedroom with a stack of classics, you skipped your way through the aisles to the counter of the store’s joint cafe.
Ordering a hot drink to keep off the chill of the midday breeze, you flashed a grateful grin at the blonde behind the counter as you rounded the aisles, making a beeline for the classic fiction.
You stumbled through the maze of novels, making mental notes of each book you had already read. You found yourself passing three aisles before you discovered a title you didn’t recognise.
Lifting the book to flick through the pages, your gaze intuitively lifted at the presence of someone further down the aisle.
That’s when you saw him.
A dark stroke of hair dropped down his shoulders, collecting in sweet spirals at his chest. His bright eyes held a dark splash of mischief in their depths as he towered over the shelves. His gaze was focused on the book in his hand, eyes flicking over the blurb on the back cover.
Peering over with curiosity, your eyes lit up at the title on the front as he flipped the book in his hands. “That’s my favourite! I’ve read it six times,” you blurted at the mystery man.
His gaze flicked to yours in an instant, a flash of surprise gracing his features before he relaxed into a soft smirk at the sight of you. “Would you recommend it, Dove?” He spoke with a lighthearted and teasing tone as he leisurely stepped closer to your ecstatic self.
“Absolutely! It’s a masterpiece, the author is so talented! You should totally read it,” you rambled, not catching the amusement mixed with adoration in the stranger’s eyes as he watched you.
His head tilted to the side like a curious puppy, listening intently as you gushed over the plot, the characters, the handsome romantic lead, and the optimistic heroine.
He slyly reached for a second copy of the same book on the shelf as you spoke, tucking it under the one already settled in his grasp. You were in your own world at this point, and the man couldn’t help but fluster at your adorable excitement over words on a page. What is this girl doing to me? he mentally asked himself.
She’s got me wrapped around her finger and she doesn’t even know it.
He was beginning to grow soft.
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ àŁȘ ———————
You eventually remembered to introduce yourself after a series of rambled facts about the book tumbled out of your mouth. The stranger found you to be the most endearing creature he’d ever met.
“I’m-“
“Sirius? Y’Iced latte’s ready!” He hurried over to the blonde behind the counter who finished his sentence, flashing you an apologetic smile over his shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks.
Marlene’s gaze fell on the books held tightly in his hands with an arched eyebrow. “Sirius Black, reading a book? My, I thought I’d never see the day!” He laughed while motioning for her to keep her voice down, leaning in closer while you browsed.
“It seems I’ve taken a liking to the little bookworm over there, wriggled her way right into my heart,” he motioned towards you with a smirk as Marlene spots you curiously reading the blurbs of various classics. “Said this was her favourite,” he held up the books in his hands with an uncharacteristically bashful smile, brushing the gesture off nonchalantly. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her I was buying it for Moony’s birthday.”
Marlene rolled her eyes, passing him his drink along with a napkin and a pen. “You’re hopeless, Black, really,” she whispered, turning around to pick up another order.
His eyes lit up at the sight of the pen, “You really do know me well, Marls! And to think I only keep you around for the coffee,” he quipped, though his tone held no bite. He scribbled on the napkin before Marlene passed your drink into his grasp, sending her a final look of gratitude before turning back to you.
“Here you go, love. Now, what was that sequel about again? What happens next?” You glanced up as he handed you your drink with a sweet grin, oblivious to the napkin sitting on top with a phone number scrawled across it, waiting to be discovered as you launched into an explanation with a giggle.
“Wait- no! I can’t tell you, spoilers!”
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ àŁȘ ———————
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dianagpeppermintnightmare · 3 days ago
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I'm not gonna disagree with the validity of some of these points, but I still feel the need to make some of my own.
So, "shonen", of course, is merely a demographic. It isn't a genre. When people outside of Japan use "shonen", they're often just using it as shorthand for what's an actual genre: battle manga. Shonen encompasses a great deal of genres, from sports manga, romance manga, slice of life manga, and gag manga, and even those can blend together. It still amuses me a bit that smaller slice of life gag series like Nichijou or Azumanga Daioh are both shonen and nobody seems to notice. Even a yuri manga like Bloom Into You is shonen, and was published in the same magazine as Azumanga Daioh.
It should also be noted that the vast majority of battle shonen that takes off outside Japan are the ones published by Weekly Shonen Jump, which has a particular brand and image. When people harp about alleged clichés in battle shonen (regardless of whether these clichés are actually that prevalent or if they're just going solely off Dragon Ball and Naruto), it's usually the tropes frequently utilized in these particular mangas. Which, to be honest, reflects a very narrow view? It's like simplifying American comic books to just Marvel. I'd also argue that some of them don't get enough credit for their female casts (I'd point to Gintama and Black Clover as good examples), but overall...well, splitting mangas by gendered demographics naturally leads to the aforementioned issues with female representation.
Dandadan is an example of a shonen that exists outside of the Weekly Shonen Jump bubble. It's published on Jump+, which has a looser guideline for what fits the image. It could never have been published in Weekly Shonen Jump. And I think that's a big reason why people are touting it as being this big shakeup, because it's from a different publication (still by Shueisha, sure) with more room for experimentation. There's still only a limited amount of Jump+ series that have been big hits, which is partly down to it being relatively newer. It could be a good sign for the future if Jump+ keeps having hits with this level of good writing and representation.
But seriously, don't limit yourselves with the shonen manga you read. There's still a couple with genuinely good female characters, some even protagonists! I'm gonna list a few for people to check out:
1. Undead Unluck. Great romance, great action, genuinely insane plot twists, very well-characterized female cast who all get moments to develop, and Fuuko Izumo is genuinely one of the best shonen protagonists out there. 10/10 character development. There's definitely some iffy stuff early on, but hey, same with Dandadan. And if you like romance, Undead Unluck does it VERY well.
2. Akane-banashi. So imagine a sports manga, except it's not about sports, it's about rakugo. That's this series. Incredibly engaging, Akane is a fun MC, and then you delve into deeper themes about the power of art and storytelling and you start crying.
3. Magilumiere Co. LTD. More proof that locking anime adaptations of good manga to Hulu and Prime is bullshit. A Jump+ series about magical girls as an actual business for responding to monster attacks, the main protagonist is a newbie to the world of adulting and job hunting before becoming part of a small magical girl startup. The only manga I've read where "privatizing the magic industry" is an actual plot point. And yes, there is commentary on aspects of capitalism and how valuing profit over people is bad.
And those are just the ones I'm reading. That's without going into Kindergarten Wars or Shy, both series with their own cult followings and female MC's. Or hell, Frieren got super popular, and some people don't seem to realize it's published in Weekly Shonen Sunday.
So, in short...yes, Dandadan bucks a lot of clichés associated with the most popular battle shonen, but it's still speaking from a limited point of view. There IS more variety out there, you just have to look. Don't just focus on the stuff that gets the big social media reactions from the anime adaptations, focus on the smaller cult hits too.
Ways I can think of that “DanDaDan” differs from other shonen series:
* Female MC is as important as male MC
* Canon romance gets consistent development through the series. I think that’s part of the reason why the MC ships with the rivals (Aira, Jiji) aren’t as popular with the fandom for once. The main ship is actually getting good development, so the fanbase doesn’t have to make up headcanons to fill in the space.
* Flips the found family trope on its head by having the main group despise new people whenever they show up and they even actively try to kick them out. The new people only end up staying because they keep lingering around to the point that the main group just gives up and lets them stay.
* The rivals aren’t emo or angst-ridden. Aira is a delusional tryhard popular girl while Jiji is a himbo drama queen. I’d even go as far to say that the MCs are the ones who are emo and angst-ridden.
* Supporting cast is more than just important, they become integral to the story. I’d say that the further you read into DanDaDan, the more it becomes an ensemble cast where everyone is a protagonist in their own right.
* World-building is all over the place, but in a good way. Most other shonen are pretty consistent with what kind of world their characters live in. MHA is superhero-based, Naruto is ninjas and magic, Bleach is spirits, and so on. DanDaDan feels like the author just throws whatever cool shit they can think of into the story. That’s actually the reason why I wrote in a different post that DanDaDan reminds me more of Marvel/DC than any other shonen series, it manages to capture the catch-all insanity of those comics.
* Doesn’t rely on hidden power-ups. The main characters either have to outsmart the villains or they have to train to get better with the powers they already have.
* The pervert comic relief guy is actually endearing for once. Not because of his pervert tendencies, but because he’s so oblivious to how socially inept he is that it’s kind of funny. This is gonna sound strange, but he sorta reminds me of Thor in Thor Ragnarok. Full of himself and oblivious to how dumb he can be. He’s Thor without the good looks lol.
* Flips the “nerdy outcast loser somehow gets a harem” trope. Instead of making Okarun cooler than how he actually is, the story emphasizes that the women who fall for Okarun are as weird as him. Momo is a weird outcast, Aira has main character syndrome, Vamola doesn’t understand how to human because she’s literally not one, Rin thought Okarun was a vampire (and wanted him to be).
* Flips the “elderly figure in charge of the teenagers” trope. I don’t really get motherly figure vibes from Seiko Ayase, I get more “cool wine aunt who is stuck with her niece” vibes. In fact, there was the arc where Okarun showed up to her in spirit mode to get her help with fighting off the alien invasion and Seiko’s response was, “Well, I’m not in the area and I have other shit to do, so you kids figure it out.”
* The series takes the piss out of the trope of mystical/magical items that the group acquired to get their powers. I mean
the main mystical MacGuffin in the series are Okarun’s balls.
* Okarun was about to go into an “I’m weak / I wish I was stronger / I want to get stronger for my friends” breakdown, but Turbo Granny told him to shut up and keep fighting.
* Not afraid to put the “cool girl” in as many funny situations as possible. Off the top of my head, the series built up Momo as this cool, tough girl who doesn’t take shit from anyone
then several chapters later, Okarun found out she got a job at a maid cafe.
(Feel free to add to the list!)
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puck-luck · 2 days ago
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wait plz for your 1k celly can I request your example of 7 of hearts Quinn breeding kink like that’s rlly EVERYTHING
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warnings: no actual fucking, but allusions to previous encounters. the third installment of this breeding kink/pregnancy thing that i've been writing through these cellys. here is part one and part two. might even write a fourth if there's another request for Q's breeding kink in my list! (there probably is).
wc: 897
It’s a Sunday and Quinn doesn’t have a game today. Things are already wonderful just from those two facts alone, but you have a third little fact that you’ve been waiting to tell Quinn since last week. During his short roadie down to California, you’d peed on the stick and that second line appeared. An indescribable feeling washed over you– it was a rush of emotion that tapered off into a consistent feeling of happiness. 
You were excited to tell Quinn what was happening, but you wanted to make sure that it wasn’t a false positive. You’d made an appointment at your doctor’s office, a rushed one, and asked them to do some bloodwork to see if you were really pregnant– you were. After two months of trying, you were knocked up. Quinn’s baby was growing inside of you. It’s weird when you think about a baby actually growing in your body, but you’re ecstatic that it’s Quinn’s baby and you get to experience this together.
You’re tangled up in bed now. Your head is on Quinn’s chest, hand on his stomach, and his arm is wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes are closed and his breath is even. He’s awake, even though it doesn’t look like he is. 
“Quinn?” You murmur.
“Mm?” He hums. “I think my dick is broken, baby. Can’t fuck you right now.” He shifts, moving towards the edge of the bed. “Gonna go make us breakfast, I think. What do you want? Pancakes?”
“I wanna stay in bed with you,” you reply, tracing the birthmark on his chest. 
Quinn snuffles out a laugh, dropping a kiss on the crown of your head. “Not possible. We have to eat something. Let me go make something, then we can be lazy in the living room together.”
“Let me give you a reason to stay in bed,” you say, voice growing to a normal volume. You pick your head up and set your chin in his sternum, looking up at your boyfriend. 
Quinn’s eyes open a sliver, glinting down at you. “My dick doesn’t work anymore. Fucked you too good last night, sweetheart.”
He’s right, he did fuck you too good last night. You'd had no idea how much better sex was when you’re pregnant– but maybe it was the confirmation bias. You’d read that it was better and you were excited that Quinn was so eager to fuck you full of his child, unaware that he’d already succeeded, so you felt like it was better. You’ll have to keep track of your opinion during the pregnancy, just to make sure.
“Don’t need your dick to work anymore, Q,” you tell him coyly, a tiny little grin on your face. 
Quinn’s eyebrows pinch together, confused. “What do you mean?” He asks. “You don’t want to keep trying?”
You lay your head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Not that,” you tell him. “I just don’t think you can get me pregnant again.”
Quinn goes quiet and still. His heart is pounding beneath your ear. “What?” He questions, seeming like he’s holding his breath. “What did you say?”
You smile, turning and burying your face between his pecs. Your lips kiss over his sternum and where his heart is pounding against the bone– at least, that’s how it feels. He’s racing. “I wasn’t sure if it was a false positive, so I went to the doctor the other day, and I’m pregnant, Q. There’s a Hughes baby inside me right now.”
He stares at you, eyes wide and disbelieving. His mouth is open, jaw dropped wide.
You snort out a laugh and grab his arm, placing his hand on your abdomen. “The baby and I would like to be lazy in bed with Daddy all day, please.” You’re just teasing him now, trying to get a reaction from him.
“Are you actually?” Quinn demands, springing back to life. His eyes are darting all over his face and he’s craning his neck so that he can look down at you properly. “You’re not just fucking with me?”
“Do you want me to go get the pregnancy test and the doctor’s note?” You ask, laughing.
“No! No,” Quinn says, his voice loud and excited. “I can get it. You relax.” He kicks the covers off, but you wrap your arms around his stomach and try to hold him there. He’s strong, so he moves anyway. “Where is it?”
“It’s only been a few weeks, Q, I can still move around,” you laugh. “They’re in the bottom drawer in the bathroom with all my random things. Come back here when you’re done, I wasn’t kidding about cuddling with my baby-daddy all day.” Your last sentence is a call after him, because as soon as you told Quinn where the items were, he was on the move. You can hear him throwing open the drawer and rifling around. 
You laugh, laying flat on your back and placing a hand on your belly. You’re not showing, not even close, but you know that there’s something in there. A little baby, made completely from yours and Quinn’s love. That knowledge, paired with Quinn’s excitement when he comes rushing back into the room and pounces on you, wrapping you in a hug and kissing over your face, pregnancy test clasped in his hand, makes this the best day of your life.
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fastandcarlos · 1 day ago
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"I Can't Sleep Without You" : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo
summary: after watching you walk out after an argument, daniel finds himself unable to settle knowing that you're not there with him
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Your eyes found themselves fixated on the ceiling once again, unable to push your argument with Daniel away from the forefront of your mind. It replayed again and again, the things you said, the feelings that surfaced, the hurt that Daniel had caused. 
Soon enough you found yourself walking out of the apartment, deciding to spend the night at a friend’s house. You thought it would be the perfect thing to do to forget about it, but you couldn’t have been further from the truth. 
Just like you, Daniel laid wide awake, struggling to believe what had happened. The bed felt empty without you, all he wanted was for you to be back there with him again. He couldn’t remember the last night he spent without you, although he knew the reason for it was all down to him. 
Arguments were rare between the two of you which was why you were both so overwhelmed. You’d shouted at Daniel louder than you ever had done before, likewise he’d said things you never thought you’d hear come from him leaving you both clashing. 
On his chest, Daniel’s phone kept lighting up. Each time he looked in anticipation that it might be a notification from you, only to be left disappointed each time he checked. 
No matter how many times he closed his eyes, Daniel soon found them open again as he thought about your argument and the things that he regretted. He knew now the things that he should have said, angry at himself for not saying those things rather than what he ended up saying to you. 
He knew the blame landed on him, but that didn’t stop Daniel feeling sorry for himself laying in the cold bed all by himself. The feeling of being without you was horrendous, hoping that you were struggling just as much as he was not being by his side. 
As another hour passed, Daniel picked up his phone again, scrolling through his list of contacts. His finger hovered over your name for a moment, silently debating with himself whether calling you was the best thing to do or not. 
Your eyes grew heavy once more when suddenly you were disturbed by the vibrations that came from underneath your pillow, reaching your hand under and pulling out your phone. 
When you saw Daniel’s name, your immediate response was to answer, that was until you remembered what had happened. You toyed with the idea for a moment, deciding to accept Daniel’s call on the last ring, gently pressing your phone to your ear, greeted by the sound of Daniel heavy breathing. 
“Dan,” you sighed, “what are you calling for at this time?” 
“I’m sorry, I know it’s late,” he replied, stunning you with how his voice wavered with upset. “I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I’ve been such an idiot love, and now I’m lying here, unable to sleep without you here.” 
As he fell silent, you could hear Daniel sniffing as he tried to fight back the tears. You couldn’t begin to imagine how hard he was being on himself, unable to remember the last time that you heard Daniel upset, let alone crying and wiping away his tears.  
“It’s probably really selfish of me to ask, but is there any way that you could come home? I can’t sleep without you, and judging by the fact you answered my call, I'm guessing that you’re the same.” 
A sigh came from you as you thought for a moment, as much as you loved your friend’s home, it wasn’t the same as being in your own home and in the comfort of your own bed. 
“I’ll be there shortly.” 
Daniel muttered a thank you before leaving you to start heading home. You grabbed a couple of your things, writing a note for your friend before heading to your car. You were careful as you drove, keeping yourself composed as you dreaded to think how things would go when you got home.  
There was a light on as soon as you pulled up outside your home, locking your car and heading to the front door. You barely opened the door before Daniel greeted you, his face red and blotchy from where he had been crying. 
“Hi,” you murmured. 
A lump ran down your throat as your eyes met Daniel’s, walking into the apartment and taking a seat on the sofa. The place was a mess from how Daniel had left it, with him sitting on the seat beside you, but keeping a bit of distance between you both.  
His hands brushed through his hair as he tried his best to stay composed beside you. “I’m glad you decided to come back,” he whispered, “thank you.” 
“It’s fine.” 
You were blunter than Daniel had hoped, although it was the least that he deserved for how he had treated you, it still hurt him. 
“Love,” he slowly whispered, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I should never have said what I said, I was selfish, stubborn, inconsiderate, just an awful boyfriend. “ 
“You were an ass,” you agreed with a faint chuckle, glancing across at Daniel. “I shouldn’t have pestered you so much though, you obviously needed space and I didn’t give that to you, I probably just wound you up more.” 
Despite Daniel insisting that he was fine, you refused to believe him. You nagged and nagged, reminding him that he could open up to you. Daniel’s frustrations only grew though as he told you that he was fine, deciding to deal with things all by himself. 
“I wish things went differently tonight, Daniel,” you admitted, “this is our home, it’s where we should be spending every single night together.” 
“I agree, no matter how angry we are at each other.” 
Despite the early hours, the time apart was exactly what you needed. Both of you had some time to reflect, reminding yourselves just how much the two of you hated arguing with one another. 
Daniel’s hand slowly reached across and rested against your leg, shuffling along the seat so that the two of you were sat next to each other again. His smile turned up as your head rested down against his shoulder. 
“Can we go back to just being us? To cuddling in bed and falling asleep side by side.” 
You hummed in reply to Daniel, feeling his arms wrap around your frame as he lifted you up off of the sofa, resting you against his chest to keep you still. 
He didn’t let you go as Daniel dropped down onto the bed, resting you into his side as he pulled the duvet over you both. It felt like home again, smiling at how warm it was again with you right there with him.  
“This is much better,” Daniel murmured as he rested his head on yours, allowing his eyes to close once again. 
Your smile grew as he spoke. “Don’t ever let me complain about uncomfortable our bed is again, she had me sleeping on the sofa and I think if I’d have spent the night there, I’d have ended up with a broken back.” 
A chuckle came from Daniel, “that’s because nowhere can compare to our bed, no one makes you feel as comfortable as I do anyway.” 
“That’s true, you’re the best.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ®ˎ˗
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purinfelix · 2 days ago
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can i request hot cocoa + let you break my heart again + franco colapinto
perhaps the both of them are at some kind of gala/event/party for f1 with a mix of yearning maybe some mutual pining 🙈
one day âŠč àŁȘ ˖ - franco colapinto
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w/c: 800 a/n: UGH this idea was just sooo scrumptious i loved writing it sm (and maybe got a bit carried away since this was supposed to be a blurb) BUT thanks bff hope u like <3333
this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!
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Stuffy formal events were something you thought you'd escaped by choosing a career in motorsport.
Little did you know, becoming an F1 driver meant signing up for a lifetime of them - a fact you were sourly reminded of when the annual gala rolled around, and despite it being your first, proved awful every step of the way. Somewhere in between the pretentiously tiny portion sizes and long, boring speeches, you found yourself growing more restless, desperate for an escape.
That's how you ended up here - leaving the toilet cubicle that had been your safe haven for the last half an hour, following a less-than-kind text from your pr manager demanding your return. As you washed your hands, your eyes glazed over your reflection in the ornate bathroom mirror. A small smile perked at the side of your mouth, satisfied with the job your stylist had done - even if the outfit she had chosen was suffocatingly tight and only added to your long list of nightly grievances.
Leaving the bathroom, you took in a deep breath, mentally preparing to sit through several more insufferable hours of this event.
"I was wondering where you went," came a voice from the other side of the hall, emerging from the men's bathroom. Looking up you locked onto a pair of green eyes, a coy expression on his face.
"Didn't think you'd notice in between all your flirting, Franco," you spat, though you couldn't stop yourself from offering a sly smile. You feel his eyes run over you, trying to maintain your composure as you feel your cheeks heat up under the weight of his gaze.
"You look good," he lets out, a little softly, almost like a confession. You're tempted to reply back with something snappy, though you stop yourself.
"You too." And you're not lying. In a black suit, cleanly pressed and fitted, he looks almost unrecognisable from the normal race weekend outfit. Though his deep brown curls, which you can tell his stylist has tried their best to tame, still fall carefreely onto his forehead.
He brushes a couple away as he lets out a shy laugh. "Well, it seemed a good time to clean up, hm?"
There's a moment of silence that seems to indicate that the two of you should return back to the event - but you don't. Neither of you move, just standing there looking at each other, almost daring the other to say something else. It's unlike the two of you since usually any space between you is filled with snarky comments and quick insults - the result of being two rookies from opposite teams, fighting to make a name for yourselves.
But sometimes you wish it weren't. Sometimes, in between the snide remarks and menacing stares, you think about how maybe if fate had favoured you just a little more, Franco might've been your teammate. And maybe, just maybe, you might've gotten along.
Though being 'rivals' meant being similar, even if you refused to admit it, and knowing each other deeply - on a level that being friends wouldn't come close to.
He reminds you of this fact when he pipes up again, hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. "I really don't want to go back in there," he confesses.
"Me neither," you sigh in agreeance, relieved he feels the same.
"It's just so-"
"Stuffy."
"Yes, exactly!" he replies, a thankful smile on his face, "plus, I feel like this tie is trying to strangle me."
"But I guess we have to go back, my media manager is going to be looking for me."
"Right," he says, looking down, "unless."
You quirk an eyebrow, intrigued at what he's implying. "Surely not."
"What are the chances of us actually being needed tonight, we're two rookies, it's not like they're going to give us any awards."
"You really haven't been listening in those media training lessons of yours, hm?"
"Oh, because you care so much about my image," he laughs, "c'mon let's get out of here, do something else, something that isn't so mind-numbingly boring." As he speaks, he brings a hand to his neck, loosening his tie, and you suck in a sharp breath as you watch him.
"Franco," you say softly, almost begging him not to make you make this decision.
"Fine, if you want to head back in there, be my guest, but I'm going." He turns around, giving you one last look, almost daring you to follow him with one eyebrow raised and the corner of his lips quirked up.
As he does you're struck by the feeling that maybe one day the two of you won't be posed as rivals, that maybe you might truly get along.
That maybe one day he won't have such a strong effect on you, that the way he looks at you won't make your heart flutter and brain stop as much as it does now.
But today isn't that day.
"Franco, wait," you call out, jogging up to him and letting out a defeated sigh, "where should we go?"
"Anywhere you want," he replies, looking at you with a smug yet endeared smile - almost as if he knew you'd join him all along.
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taglist: @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle
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karikitdemonrp · 2 days ago
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Kari gave a small giggle at when Adam talked about her tailbone. She shook her head and let it be, trying to ignore the outside chaos right now.
She took the notepad and pen and hummed softly, writing down whatever came to mind. "Well... We will need to have plenty of rope to reset or repair any traps that use rope, sticks to sharpen into stakes to use in traps, rocks could be useful ammo for slingshots which are a good backup for guns which we don't have. Smaller rocks for ammo, bigger rocks might be useful if we can chip them and shape them into arrow heads or something to use for weapons. If we happen upon any knives or sharp things those could be good. Any sort of container or thing for storage is useful..." Kari paused for a moment, looking over her list.
"Then we need foods, preferably canned and non perishable or with a really long shelf life. If we find something that requires a refrigerator grab it anyway but it needs to be eaten quickly since I'm not sure how long we will have electricity. Flashlights, candles, matches, anything like that is needed. If there are some hand-crank flashlights go for those first since they're our best option right now for a reliable source of light. Any parts for machines or a solar generator or anything like that grab it. We might have to build our own generator for electricity so you don't have to keep using your powers and tiring yourself out. If there are books to help us, like medical books or books on building, anything that can give us survival information grab it. It's better to have the information. Uh, any medical supplies like first aid kits or stray bandages or medicine will help, hoard what you can when it comes to medical supplies, food, and water." Kari took a breath, trying to think of a good priority list before speaking again.
"So, in order of priority it's; Water, Food, Medical supplies, Weapons, Items for Traps, Information on anything we don't know." Kari looked up at Adam and sighed. "I don't thing we need a detailed list. Right now anything could he useful, we just need a set priority list and that might change as things happen. But right now this is the best I could come up with." The child chirped softly and showed Adam the list. It was just what she said was a priority right now and in the order she said.
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Adam raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Kari as she mentioned her tailbone. He immediately smirked, leaning back slightly to get a better look at her. “Yeah, that’s a hard pass from me,” he said with his usual sarcastic edge. “I don’t touch tailbones, kid. Pretty sure that’s fucking illegal even before the apocalypse. And now? Well, not much law left, but I’m still not getting arrested by some zombie cop who’s weirdly dedicated to his job.”
He ruffled her hair lightly, trying to shift her focus. “Besides, I’d rather not be remembered as the angel who got locked up for inappropriate tail touching. No thanks.”
Adam leaned forward and grabbed a nearby notepad and pen, handing them to her. “Now, instead of scratching at yourself like a flea-ridden hellhound, let’s be productive. We need a list. Supplies. Weapons. Traps. You know, fun apocalypse stuff. If we’re gonna head out at some point, we might as well grab everything in one go and not die trying.”
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yourfatherlucifer · 14 hours ago
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| đ’źđ‘’đ“đ’»đ’Ÿđ“ˆđ’œ 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter One
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Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x Female!Reader
Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.
Warnings for this chapter: Slight Parental Abuse, kidnapping, mental breakdown, MDNI
My Thankful Help: @potatomountain @kitten4sannie @rems-writing
WC: 1.7k
AU: Mafia
Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork
AN: This chapter is under 2k because as I said, the first chapter would be short.
Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia-16 @daniela-f-uwu @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx
@hyukssunflower @witchbxtch0701 If I cannot tag you, please fix your settings.
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“Dad, please, this is all I have left!” Y/N’s dad didn’t care, he snatched the few bills she clenched in her palms, then shoved her to the floor.
“I don’t care. I need it more, you brat.”
Her father left her on the cold hard floor without another thought as he exited her home.
This all started five years ago, when her mother died and her father became a huge gambling addict. Every bit of death insurance money that was left for their daughter was stolen by the father for excessive spending.
Whatever, his ass can forget it.
Y/N had to return to work if she wanted to keep her home, rent and bills were definitely no joke. With a sigh and groan, she grabbed her apron and hat. As much as she hated her customers, she had a good job. It paid well and gave her a nice home: small, but nice. The best part is that it’s away from her fathers run down house.
Oh the family home..it used to be so beautiful. Y/N’s mother always kept it so extravagant and beautiful, her father actually built it for her mother. Alas, once she died, Y/N’s dad let it fall into disrepair. Holes in the floor, broken windows, no working appliances. It truly was just, not hospitable in any way shape or form.
The walk to the car was miserable, with her pockets robbed of the last cash she had, her bank account stripped clean of its currency. Y/N hated her father in these final minutes to her car, “Piece of shit, hate his ass.”
Her car struggled to start, pissing her off even more. Her hands smacked against the steering wheel and she let out an agonizing scream. Tears streamed down her face that signified her further frustration. Why? Why not was her life like this? Y/N stepped out of her car with a slam of the door. Bus transposition it is. She could only count on the money she made tonight to make it back home. Her bus card only had enough for one ride.
Y/N grabbed her coat before heading back outside to the bus station, it better not be packed. Her day was already shitty and she didn’t need to be jostled around by people on the way to work.
The moment she stepped onto the bus and scanned her card, only then could she breathe a sigh of relief. There was no one on the bus which gave her momentary tranquility. A peaceful silence if you must.
After the jostling bus ride and arriving to work, Y/N prepared for a long day ahead of her. Hopefully having no shitty customers and ending the day with a good pay.
She needs it.
About six hours later, she was clocked out of work with some cash in her pocket, she had made about one hundred and twenty four dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get her home and maybe something ordered to eat. Tomorrow's payment would have to go to rent no matter what. She absolutely cannot afford to be homeless.
It had turned dark outside on the way home which she didn’t mind but alas, men. She never had to worry about that but she still worried regardless.
With her home in sight, she let out another sigh of relief and stepped inside. Why was it so dark? She knows she left the lights on. She was sure she left them on. Y/N was about to bolt when hands grabbed her and the lights turned on.
Three men resided in her home entrance and she panicked, “Who the hell are you people and why are you in my home?” She tried her hardest to break away from the man’s hold, she couldn’t see what they looked like and that scared her.
A short one with orange hair pushed himself off the couch with a frown, “You’re not Mark..” His face grew cold, “Might I ask who you are instead?”
Y/N could only scowl before giving in, “I’m his daughter. What do you want with my father?”
“Well, you see, he owes us a hefty bit of money. He listed this place as his home but he’s not here. Do you know where he is?” He came face to face with the girl as he scanned her body up and down. Quite the specimen indeed, he thought.
Y/N shook her head, “Why the hell would I know where that deadbeat is? He’s nothing but trouble and continues to steal my money.”
This made the man laugh, the others stiffening.
“Oh, yeah, sounds just like him.” He thought for a moment before nodding to himself, “Well, guess we’re gonna have to take you instead! Maybe we can lure him out with you.”
Before she could protest and scream for help, something was bashed against her head and she fell to the floor in a blackout.
Time flew by quickly.
The moment she woke up, she realized she was in a cell, her body wrapped in a tight rope and her legs barred together tightly.
Y/N began to cry, of course her father would get her in this situation. What a dickweed.
A light quickly flashed into the dark room, someone stepped in.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” The voice was monotone, “Captain wants to see you.” The sounds of keys jingling rattled her ears, swearing she had a concussion.
She was quickly yanked up and taken outside of the cell, “Do not attempt to flee, I will just shove you back in there with nothing to eat.”
Y/N gave in and let him take her upstairs. She was astonished by his beauty once they reached the light. No, no, do not think that way, she thought to herself. She was kidnapped.
She was taken to a room that was secluded from the rest, chandeliers lining the hallway as she walked, well, was forced down. Still, a beautiful place that astonished her.
Once she was shoved into the room and the door slammed behind her, only then could she look up from where she fell.
The other man stood up from his seat and helped her stand up, “I told you to be gentle, Jongho. Follow my orders next time or you know damn well what happens.”
“Yes, Hongjoong, sir, I’m sorry.” The voice spoke from behind the girl.
This guy was the boss?
“I’m Hongjoong, I’m the leader of ateez and you’re in our home. You can thank your father for that.” Hongjoong gently brought Y/N to a seat and sat her down, sending shivers down her spine.
“What do I have to do with my father? He’s not going to rescue me. He only cares about his money.” He didn’t like those words but quickly gathered his cool.
“No matter, fathers always come back if they want to escape our wrath.” Hongjoong cleared his throat before he stood up once more, “You’ll be staying with us until he makes an appearance or pays us back.”
She knew neither was going to happen. She’d be stuck here forever until the day she died.
Tears lined her eyes as she tried to fight them back, “Then you should just kill me.”
Hongjoong laughed in such a maniacal way that it scared Y/N, “I won’t be doing that either, you’re too pretty to kill. I like you.” He wasn’t sending any red flags but still, he scared Y/N.
“Fine.”
“Good girl. Jongho, take her to the room I had prepared and have the maids clean her up and feed her.” With a wave of his hand, Y/N was back to being yanked around, “Be gentle, dammit!” His fist smacked against the desk and Jongho was frightened once more, being more careful than he had before.
When the two of them were out of sight, Jongho was harsh once again, “I don’t like you. I don’t see why Captain has such an interest in you, I would’ve just killed you if I was in his position.”
Y/N couldn’t say anything, she was too scared, too afraid to die in all honesty. She could only wonder what would happen to her home, her job, everything she had. Would she just be reported as missing? What would happen? Would anyone even care?
“You’ll be staying in here.” She was shoved into a room once again but maids rushed to her this time, helping her to the bed, almost as if they were also afraid of Hongjoong.
She didn’t blame them.
Y/N didn’t even fight back, she let them undress her, too hollow of shell at the moment. They led her to a prepared bath, it was..big. Too big.
They helped her inside and began washing her body before she shouted, “I can do it myself, thank you.” The maids didn’t scamper off unfortunately.
“We’re so sorry, but Mr Kim wants us doing this. We have to.” They spoke with such a frightening tone, almost as if they were gonna get their heads chopped off on a stand.
They scrubbed her body with such ease and care, not wanting to hurt the girl. Too scared to do so. Then again, they haven’t had another girl in the house in so long. It was nice.
Once they were done, they had her step out, drying and dressing her in a gown. Something she normally would never wear, alas she has no choice unfortunately. If this is what the man wanted her to wear then so be it.
The several maids took their leave for a moment and Y/N took that as her chance to escape. She bolted out of the bathroom, out of the room, then into the hallway. Her heavy breaths carried her in a panic, but what she didn’t expect was to run in a hard chest.
Y/N screamed in defeat as they grabbed her tight. She recognized the hold as the person who captured her home.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” The voice snickered in such a mimicking tone, “Mm, captain is gonna love to hear about this.”
Y/N stared up into his eyes, yet another beautiful man and this one was definitely tall.
“You do look delicious.” However, he shrugged and dragged her back into the room, “I’m Mingi, though, next time you try to escape, I won’t be so lenient.” The door was slammed as Mingi left her in the cold and dark room once more.
Y/N could only cry as she came to the conclusion she was never leaving this place.
Ever.
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waynes-multiverse · 21 hours ago
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Hi, I first wanted to say that I’m a big fan of your work, I’m constantly rereading your fics and they have really helped me escape from my busy Uni schedule. I was hoping you could write some smutty head canons about dean, no pressure ofc. I hope you enjoy your day and thank you for taking the time to create and post fics for people like me who need a way to escape their hectic lives.💕
Aww, thank you so much, lovely! I gladly support the escapism đŸ„°
Sorry this took me so long! I was on a bit of a break there, but I was so excited to get into this. God knows I have so many headcanons 😆
Hope you’re doing well and hope you enjoy this đŸ€
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18 for some smutty content (duh)
Main Masterlist || Tag List
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Headcanon: Gettin’ Down and Dirty with Dean
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Dean is very hands-on, which means he’ll touch you whenever he can, even if it’s just a hand on the small of your back while you’re pumping gas or walking into a bar.
This also means he takes PDA to a whole new level. He teases you under the table when you’re doing research in the library or eating in the kitchen. He weaves his arms around you when you’re doing dishes. He trails kisses down your neck while you’re cooking.
Especially while you’re cooking. Something about food just turns him on. So much so that every once in a while he stands in front of your door with some whipped cream, chocolate sauce, a cute wiggle of his eyebrows, and a giant grin, begging you to be his dessert.
Sam is mostly annoyed by his brother’s indiscretions, though. Too many times (almost every damn day) Dean has walked into the kitchen in nothing but his gray robe and announced his morning wood to you, not seeing Sam sitting in the corner. That’s when Sam usually folds his paper, takes his coffee, and hurries to the library before Dean’s hands find their way to your body once more.
Sam suffers the most, however, if there’s only one motel room available and the three of you have to share. Dean has zero self-control (and also doesn’t care what Sam sees or doesn’t see). While he cuddles you, he holds you so close to his body that it’s hard to breathe. And again, hands and lips – they wander. Constantly. The man doesn’t possess an off-switch.
It got so bad that Sam has established a rule that the two of you are not allowed to share a bed anymore and Dean has to take the couch for the night. But as soon as his little brother has dozed off, he crawls right back into the warm comfort of your bed.
Speaking of rules, Dean loves breaking them. If there’s a sign that says “Do not enter,” you can be sure as hell he’ll shove you in there and will enter you. For Dean, there’s no such thing as bad timing or an inappropriate place. He even breaks rules that don’t exist and are just common sense like, “Do not have sex in a museum while you’re breaking into said museum.”
And while he loves breaking rules, he also loves following them. Especially when it’s “sexy rules.” He loves when you playfully push him around, when you shove him backwards onto the mattress and tell him what to do. He will smirk at you giddily all the way through and be the best damn boy you’ve ever seen.
Overall, he’s curious about your fantasies and constantly asks you want you want to do. He enjoys it when you take the lead in the bedroom and loves to see what you come up with. He loves being underneath you and watch you ride him with his bottom lip tugged behind his teeth. It barely hides his huge grin. He loves to see your tits bounce from this angle. According to him, it’s the best goddamn view in the world – forget the Grand Canyon.
However, when he’s had a bad day or a rough hunt, he actually likes to be in charge. It all depends on his mood. But taking control of you helps him cope with the things he can’t control in this world. So whenever he comes home with tense shoulders and a tightly creased brow, you know you’re in for a treat.
When he orders you around with his deep voice and sharp tone, you melt into a puddle and only all too happily oblige to his every command. Your legs grow weak when he dominates you with just a look. God, he loves the way you whimper and squirm underneath him, loves how you moan his name when you’re on all fours in front of him, and loves how your lips feel around his cock when you suck him off.
You love to give him comfort in whatever form he pleases. And Dean loves that you trust him with all your heart – and he knows to never betray it. He will always respect your limits, even though he gently pokes them sometimes, testing how far he actually can go.
Sometimes he bends rules like he bends you.
And truth is, he can go pretty fucking far. There’s not much you won’t let this man do. His dirty mouth can convince you to do all kinds of things – things you would for sure refuse if anyone else was asking. But it’s Dean, and one look of his sparkling green eyes will have you on your knees for him.
But honestly, Dean is the same kind of whipped for you, too. He will do anything for you, short of moving actual mountains. Massages, hot baths, ice cream at midnight? He’s got you covered and doesn’t expect anything in return, except for your unconditional love. He’s got it either way, but you do have to reassure him sometimes.
Dean’s a giver, not a taker, so you do have to force him sometimes to ask for the things he wants. But boy, when he gives, he goddamn gives with both of his massive hands. After he’s done with you, there’s not a single inch of skin left on your body that hasn’t been worshipped. You always come first – literally.
Dean takes pride in making you cum, and it doesn’t matter with which body part of his he does it. They are all equally skilled – his fingers, his lips, his tongue, and his dick. He eats you out and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, because you both know in a life full of monsters, there actually might not be one. He makes every night and every day count.
Then, there’s his mouth. It should be no surprise, but it’s goddamn filthy. He could make you come with words alone, and not rarely, he sure likes to try. A lot of times it’s stuff you haven’t even heard, dreamed, or thought about until Dean’s said it and put it in your goddamn head.
And yes, Dean’s very sexual and a great lover through and through. He enjoys sex, but most of all, he enjoys going to sleep and waking up next to you. He loves cuddling with you on the couch during a movie, he loves holding you close at night, and he loves that special moment when you’re both coming down from your highs and are still connected, bathing in the afterglow.
Dean has been so touch-starved all his life that he enjoys the little things. He loves when your fingernails caress his back and massage his scalp. He loves using you as his freaking pillow. At this point, you’ve learned not to drink too much water before bed, because you know you won’t be able to escape his prison of strong arms – not that you’d ever want to (unless you really do have to pee).
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I honestly could've went on and on and on with this one... 😂
MORE HEADCANONS? 👉 Put 'em here.
Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕
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TAGS:
Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
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malusokay · 2 days ago
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Haiii !! I'm obsessed with your blog. Do you have any tips for staying motivated? I wanna better my life and I have all the resources to do so. it's just motivation that's the problem 😓😓
surround yourself with inspiration.
for me, my friends are one of my biggest motivations—having people around who inspire and encourage you to grow is everything.
it’s not just about support; it’s about energy. being in a circle of people who push you, directly or indirectly, to be better is so important.
don’t lose sight of your goals.
always keep in mind what you’re working for, whether it’s an academic milestone or something personal. knowing your “why” makes the process so much easier.
when you have a clear picture of what you’re striving for, working hard feels purposeful instead of just tiring.
set HUGE goals, and then work backwards.
start with the biggest, boldest goal, then break it down into smaller, manageable steps that fill the gap between where you are now and where you want to be.
here’s what I mean: let’s say you’re in high school, and your ultimate goal is Cambridge.
you now → finishing an essay → getting a specific grade → finding balance → acing exams → writing your personal statement → Cambridge.
this is a very vague example, but the idea is to create a roadmap where every step feels doable—and every step brings you closer. you guys get my point hahaha
find balance to avoid burnout.
I’m a total workaholic, and spending time on things that don’t align with my main goals usually makes me feel horrible. but balance is non-negotiable.
for me, balance means baking with my friends, diving into hobbies that challenge me outside of academia, reading something complex but unrelated to my studies, or creating content like this to inspire others.
whatever it looks like for you, find something that lets you reset and recharge.
visualise, but don’t let it become procrastination.
I’m all for making Pinterest boards and visualising your dream life and I highly recommend doing it because it ties into the whole “don’t lose sight of your goals” idea.
BUT: overplanning can become its own trap. making endless lists, moodboards, or ideas without ever starting the actual work is just procrastination in a prettier outfit.
so yes, make your Pinterest board, set your goals, but don’t stop there. Start taking action, even if it’s just one small step today.
I hope this is helpful to you, and I wish you the very best on your journey, if you (or anyone else hahah) have more questions regarding this, just let me know, and we can dive into this topic a little deeper. <3
my insta @ malusokay
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siriuslysmoking · 3 days ago
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eeeeeee ok so i’ve been reading a lot of ur stuff and i was wondering if u could write more blaise stuff?? maybe smut if ur comfortable but really whatever is fine. ty!!
Tied Together
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Summary: After Voldemort had won the war, everything felt uneasy, being forced into a marriage wasn't in the plan, but after a war, nothing goes according to it.
Pairing: Blaise Zabini x Reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Warning: Smut, breeding kink, pet names, forced marriage, name calling.], so many words, the summary sucks ASS, not edited cause I worked an 8 hr shift before I wrote this.
A/N: OFC BABES!! I spent all day trying to figure out what to write about! A classic trope with my own spin to it! This is a long one so buckle in.
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Graduation was supposed to be exciting—a milestone filled with relief and hope. But instead, you sit stiffly at your assigned table in the Great Hall, your face carefully blank as the drone of Ministry officials announcing the newly mandated marriages fills the air. One by one, names are read aloud, paired off with cruel indifference.
You barely register the first half of the list, staring down at your clasped hands, the parchment crinkled beneath your fingertips. They go in alphabetical order, and as the names inch closer to your own, you feel your chest tighten. When they reach “X,” your name still hasn’t been called.
Then it happens.
“Blaise Zabini...” the official says, then finally it arrives, your name.
Your stomach drops.
Oh, fuck no.
Your head snaps up, unwilling to believe it, but there’s no denying the truth. Your eyes immediately find Blaise across the hall. He’s already looking at you, his sharp features unreadable save for the slight twitch in his lips—a subtle, disdainful reaction that speaks volumes.
Disgust. Of course.
After years of enduring his thinly veiled insults about your bloodline, his smirks whenever he edged you out for top marks, and the cold indifference he perfected whenever your paths crossed, this feels like the final humiliation. It could have been anyone else. Anyone. But fate—or, more likely, the twisted whims of the Ministry—had chosen Blaise Zabini.
You bite the inside of your cheek, determined not to let your emotions betray you. He, of course, looks as collected as ever, his face a mask of cool disinterest. But beneath it, you know he must be livid. No one in their right mind would want this, least of all him.
The thought offers little comfort as the reality of the situation settles over you. Graduation wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be your first step into freedom. Instead, it feels like the chains around you have only tightened.
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The wedding was nothing like you’d imagined it would be.
Everything felt cold—the ancient stone walls of the ceremonial hall, the piercing stares of the pureblood guests seated behind you, and the delicate lace of your dress sticking uncomfortably to your damp skin. The enchanted candles floating above did nothing to dispel the oppressive atmosphere. Their soft glow felt harsh, illuminating every detail of this forced spectacle.
The officiant's droning voice blurred into the background as you stared straight ahead, refusing to meet Blaise Zabini’s gaze. He stood beside you, his posture perfect, his expression as unreadable as ever. If he was as horrified by this union as you were, he didn’t show it. His face was carved in cold indifference, as though this moment meant nothing to him.
You clenched your trembling hands together, the smooth lace gloves doing little to hide the anxiety coursing through you. The crowd’s eyes burned into your back, no doubt judging every move, every breath. Were they thrilled to see a half-blood like you bound to one of their own? Or were they disgusted by the pairing? You couldn’t tell, and you weren’t sure which possibility made you feel worse.
“Do you, Blaise Zabini, accept this bond as law dictates?” the officiant intoned, his voice sharp and unyielding.
There was a brief pause. You could feel Blaise shift slightly beside you.
“I do.” His voice was steady, emotionless.
The words felt like a knife, cutting away any hope you had that he might fight this, that he might object, that anyone might. But Blaise Zabini was no fool. He knew better than to challenge the Ministry.
“And do you," He spoke your name with no emotion, moving his eyes to you, "accept this bond as law dictates?”
Your throat tightened. The words felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until you forced the response from your lips.
“I do.”
The officiant raised his wand, the tip glowing as he muttered the incantation that would seal your fates. You felt the magic take hold, wrapping around your wrist like an invisible shackle before fading into nothingness. It was done.
“And now,” the officiant said, a note of finality in his tone, “to seal the bond with a kiss.”
Your stomach lurched. You hadn’t forgotten this part, but you’d desperately hoped it would be skipped—maybe Blaise would refuse, or some exception would be made. But no, tradition demanded it.
Blaise turned to you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of discomfort, or perhaps resentment. He leaned down, his movements slow and precise, giving you no time to brace yourself.
The kiss was brief, a mere press of lips against yours, cold and devoid of anything resembling affection. It felt more like a command than a gesture of unity. You fought the urge to flinch, standing rigidly until he pulled away.
As you parted, your lips tingled—not from passion, but from the bitter taste of obligation. You didn’t look at him, focusing instead on the floor as the crowd offered polite, stifled applause.
Blaise offered you his arm, as tradition dictated. You hesitated, staring at it as though it were a venomous snake. But with the weight of the crowd’s gaze pressing down on you, you relented, placing your gloved hand lightly atop his. His arm was rigid, his touch devoid of warmth.
As you walked back down the aisle together, the reality of your situation began to sink in. This wasn’t a wedding—it was a sentence. A chain around your neck that tied you to someone who didn’t want you, just as much as you didn’t want him.
And yet, as you glanced up at Blaise’s perfectly composed face, you couldn’t shake the thought that, behind his mask of indifference, he might feel just as trapped as you did.
The ceremony ended in a blur of cold stares and stifled applause. You and Blaise were whisked away to the government-mandated home—a pristine, lifeless manor nestled in the countryside. The house was grand and silent, its dark wood floors creaking underfoot, the high ceilings echoing every sound. The Ministry had spared no expense, making sure it was a perfect symbol of your forced union. But inside, the house felt empty, lifeless, like a cage waiting to trap you both.
The silence between you grew, stretching on for weeks. Blaise rarely spoke, his evenings spent reading by the fire or writing letters, while you kept yourself busy, avoiding him as best as you could. Meals were quiet, punctuated only by the clinking of silverware, your eyes avoiding each other at all costs. It was easier that way—no need to pretend things were normal when they were anything but.
But then, Blaise started to notice something.
You’d begun slipping out after dinner, your footsteps quiet on the wooden floors. At first, he didn’t think much of it, chalking it up to your desire for space. But after several nights, he grew curious. The rules were clear: infidelity, whether real or merely suspected, could be disastrous for both of you. He couldn’t afford for that to happen.
One night, he decided to follow you.
He trailed quietly behind you as you made your way out into the darkened streets, your silhouette framed by the flickering light of nearby lanterns. He kept a careful distance, just enough to not alert you, but close enough to see your every move. You stopped outside a small, hidden entrance, casting a quiet unlocking charm. Blaise hid behind a nearby wall, watching as you entered the building.
Inside, you were with a group of Muggle-borns—children, huddled together in fear. He saw you hand them food, speaking to them in soft, urgent tones. His chest tightened as he realized the danger you were putting yourself in. This wasn’t just reckless; it was beyond dangerous. If anyone found out, it wouldn’t just be you who suffered. He clenched his fists, his mind racing with thoughts of what could happen if this was exposed.
But he didn’t intervene. Instead, he silently backed away, leaving the scene without a word.
The next morning, Blaise said nothing. It would be easier that way. But something lingered in the air between you both—a silent acknowledgment that there was more to this union than either of you had anticipated.
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The evening had dragged on longer than you'd anticipated, and with each passing minute, the weight of the silence between you and Blaise seemed to grow heavier. He’d been quiet for the most part, which was unusual for him, but you could feel his presence like a shadow at the edge of the room. You couldn’t focus on the book in your lap any longer, so you closed it with a soft snap and glanced at Blaise, who was lounging on the armrest of a chair, one leg hanging casually over the side, his eyes glinting with that signature arrogance.
“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” you said, trying to break the oppressive silence.
Blaise didn't look at you at first, his gaze still lazily fixed on the flickering fire. “Just trying to enjoy the peace and quiet, Mrs. Zabini.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and you could practically hear the mocking smile in his words.
You rolled your eyes, not bothering to dignify the title with a response. "You know, it’s not that hard to act like a human being once in a while."
Blaise’s head tilted just slightly, and you could tell he was assessing you. “Oh? You’re one to talk. You’ve spent more time hiding in this room than doing anything remotely
 social.” He smirked at you, the usual edge in his voice.
“I don’t need your commentary, Blaise,” you shot back, crossing your arms tightly. “I’m just fine without it.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your defensive tone. “Are you?” he asked, pushing himself off the armrest and taking a few steps toward you. “You don’t seem all that fine. Actually, you look more
 miserable than usual.”
You stood up quickly, throwing the book on the nearby chair in frustration. "I’m perfectly fine, thanks for asking,” you bit out, voice sharp. “Not that I expect you to understand anything about personal space.”
He took another step forward, his eyes gleaming with that mix of amusement and challenge you were starting to despise. “Personal space?” He laughed, but it wasn’t a friendly sound—it was mocking, dismissive. “Are you really going to pretend like you’re not just avoiding me? You think I haven’t noticed?” He leaned in just a fraction, his face now inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re hiding, and it’s pathetic.”
You pushed him away, more out of irritation than actual force, but he didn’t budge. “I’m not hiding. I’m just... trying to deal with everything without tearing my hair out.”
He leaned back slightly, his posture still relaxed, but his gaze never wavered. “You’re so dramatic. It’s not like you’re the only one stuck in this mess.”
The words hit harder than you expected. “Don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying this,” you said, your voice lower, eyes narrowing. “I know you, Blaise. You thrive on this power.”
Blaise chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a smirk. “What, you think I enjoy being shackled to you? Please.” He stepped back, just enough to give you some space, but the mocking look never left his face. “You’re the one who can’t handle the fact that you’re stuck here with me, and it’s funny to watch.”
Your eyes flashed with anger, and before you could stop yourself, you snapped, “Funny? You think I’m enjoying this too? It’s not a bloody game, Blaise. I have other things to do, but no, instead, I’m stuck here with you and your... smug face. Every damn day.”
Blaise’s expression darkened slightly, but he quickly masked it with another smirk. “Is that so? You don’t like being stuck with me? I guess that’s a shame. I was just beginning to think maybe we weren’t so different after all.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, turning away from him as you grabbed the book off the chair again, though you had no intention of reading it. You just needed something to hold on to, something to distract yourself from the tension in the room.
But Blaise wasn’t done yet. He followed you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight on your back. “You know, if you weren’t so hell-bent on hating me, we might actually get along,” he teased, his voice low, almost too calm. “But no, you’ve got this chip on your shoulder, don’t you? I can’t imagine why.”
You spun around, finally losing your patience. “Maybe I have a chip on my shoulder because you have been the biggest pain in my arse for the past several years. You think I’m just supposed to sit here and pretend like everything’s fine?”
Blaise smirked, his posture still languid as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes flicking lazily over you. “You’ve got a temper, don’t you? I like it.”
Your jaw clenched, and you resisted the urge to lash out at him physically. Instead, you just glared at him. “What do you want, Zabini?”
He raised both hands in mock surrender, though the smirk never left his lips. “Nothing at all. I’m just trying to figure you out, that’s all. You’re so... prickly, it’s almost charming.” He looked at you as if you were some kind of puzzle to solve, his gaze calculating but with an edge of amusement.
“Well, don’t get too comfortable. I’m not one of your little games, Blaise.”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you two, thick with the unspoken tension. Then, with one last glance, Blaise straightened and pushed off the doorframe, his lips still twitching with a smirk.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he said, turning to leave, but his words hung in the air, sharp and cutting. “You’ll get used to it, eventually.”
You stood there, fists clenched, watching him leave, knowing that every word he said stung a little more than you wanted to admit.
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The ballroom was grand, the air thick with perfume and whispers, swirling with the clinking of glasses and the soft shuffle of shoes against polished floors. You stood at the edge, feeling every bit the outsider in this glittering sea of purebloods, all dressed in their finest, exchanging polite smiles and subtle glances.
And then there was Blaise Zabini.
He moved through the crowd like a shadow, effortlessly commanding attention. His dark suit seemed tailor-made for him, perfectly fitting, and yet somehow, he managed to look entirely unbothered by the extravagance of the event. He caught sight of you standing alone near the columns, and, after a moment’s hesitation, he sauntered over, a slight smirk on his lips.
“Enjoying yourself, love?” he asked, his voice low and laced with mockery. His dark eyes glinted, a subtle challenge in his gaze as he came to stand beside you.
You shot him a withering look. “Oh, absolutely,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve always dreamed of this—trapped in a room full of people who wouldn’t spit on me if I were on fire.”
Blaise raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your response. He leaned closer, just enough for his breath to tickle your ear. “Careful, darling. Someone might think you’re not as happy to be here as you should be.”
You stiffened, your jaw tightening. You hated how he seemed to know exactly how to needle you. “And why would that be, Blaise? You think I’m thrilled to be married to you?”
His smirk widened. “I can’t imagine why not. I’m quite the catch.” He spun on his heel, eyes scanning the room as if seeking someone else’s attention. “But I suppose you’d prefer to be alone, wouldn’t you? No one to witness your charming temper or—”
"Why don’t you keep that smug mouth shut for once?" you snapped, your patience thinning. "You’ve been making my life miserable for years, and I’m just supposed to stand here and pretend like everything’s fine?"
Blaise’s lips quirked upward again, clearly enjoying the moment. “Oh, I’m not making you miserable. You’re doing that all on your own, darling.”
A tight laugh escaped you. “How generous of you.”
He shrugged, feigning innocence. “It’s true, you know. You’ve always been a bit of a walking disaster, haven’t you?”
“Right,” you said, cutting him off before he could continue. “And I suppose I should thank you for pointing that out. Because nothing says ‘I love you’ quite like constant criticism.”
Blaise glanced down at his watch, as if toying with the idea of leaving. "Perhaps you should take a walk with me, then. Just to show me how 'miserable' you are," he said, his voice suddenly softer, but the teasing edge never quite leaving it.
You narrowed your eyes, unsure of his intention. "I’m sure I’d rather chew glass, but thank you for the offer."
He chuckled, clearly unbothered by your sarcasm. “You know, it’s almost cute how you think you have any control in this marriage."
“Control?” you scoffed. “You think I have control over this—this farce?” You looked around the room, where the pureblood elite swirled around you, pretending to be so important, so dignified. You leaned in slightly, keeping your voice low. “You’re just as stuck here as I am. So don’t act like you’re above me.”
Blaise studied you for a moment, his dark eyes piercing. “Oh, I’m not above you. But I know one thing,” he said, his voice a little quieter now. “You’re just as trapped as I am, and no amount of pretending will change that.”
You held his gaze, anger and something else bubbling just beneath the surface. “You’re right,” you muttered, swallowing hard. “But at least I’m not pretending to enjoy it.”
Blaise smirked again, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Oh, I’m enjoying it just fine.”
Before you could snap back, the music shifted, signaling a new dance. Blaise extended his hand to you, his fingers elegantly poised, his expression unreadable.
"Shall we?" he asked, his voice low and purposeful.
You hesitated for a moment, glancing around the ballroom. The gaze of everyone in the room felt oppressive, their judgment hovering just over your shoulder. Finally, you sighed, taking his hand begrudgingly.
The moment your hand touched his, you felt the shift in the air. It wasn’t the soft, graceful kind of dance you were used to; no, this was more like a carefully calculated battle. He led you into the center of the floor, his steps sure and steady, as you struggled to keep up with the quick pace he set.
“Not so good at this, are you?” Blaise teased, his lips curling into a smile that bordered on cruel. “I thought you were supposed to be the top student.”
You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to focus on the steps, trying to ignore the way his hand on your waist felt far too possessive. “I don’t see you dancing with anyone else, Zabini. So, what’s your excuse?”
“Oh, I have many,” he replied with a smirk, twirling you just a little too sharply, making you stumble for a moment before you regained your balance. “I think it’s just funny how you always act like you’re in control.”
“I am in control,” you snapped, meeting his gaze with as much venom as you could muster.
“Prove it,” he murmured, pulling you a little closer, his hand slipping just a little too low on your back. The move was calculated, deliberate, meant to make you uncomfortable. You couldn’t deny the rush of irritation that swirled through you, and the way your heart sped up—not from desire, but from the sheer frustration of being so close to him.
The music swirled around you, the other couples gliding effortlessly, while you and Blaise stumbled through every step, each move filled with tension and hostility.
“You know,” Blaise said with that infuriating smirk, “if you spent as much time trying to enjoy yourself as you do trying to be miserable, this wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad,” you retorted, voice tight, “if you weren’t so insufferable.”
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You’ll get used to me. You’re already halfway there, I can tell.”
You shivered, unwilling to admit he might be right. The dance continued—awkward, tense, filled with barely contained animosity, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew he was right.
As much as you hated it, you and Blaise were in this together. And no amount of mean teasing or cold shoulders would change that.
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The dinner at the Zabini estate had begun like any other—polished silver gleaming under the soft light, crystal glasses catching the flicker of candle flames. You sat at the long, elegantly set table, Blaise beside you, his mother across, smiling as if she had rehearsed this moment in her mind for weeks. There was a quiet anticipation in the air, and you could feel it, even if nothing had been said yet.
Blaise’s mother—always so poised and calculating—wasn't one for pleasantries when it came to matters that truly mattered. She had a way of making the most innocuous conversations feel like high-stakes negotiations. Tonight, though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that this dinner was meant for more than just food and idle chatter.
Finally, after a few rounds of safe topics—politics, the harvest, and the state of the family business—she cleared her throat, setting her glass down carefully.
“I trust you both are well,” she began, her tone a bit too casual, almost as if testing the waters. “But there’s something we must discuss. It’s time we talk about the future, about the next generation.”
You exchanged a quick glance with Blaise, but his expression remained unreadable, as always. His mother had been hinting at this conversation for months, and you had a sinking feeling you knew where it was heading.
Her voice softened as she continued, a subtle but deliberate note of authority in her words. “As you know, the Zabini family is quite
 traditional in some ways. One of those traditions, which we hold in the highest regard, is the continuation of our bloodline.”
You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise. You could feel Blaise stiffen beside you, and the air in the room shifted, thick with the weight of what she was about to say.
“By law,” she continued, her eyes locking onto yours, “every couple of noble standing is required to have at least one child. It is not simply a preference. It’s a requirement.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You had been prepared for this, but the weight of her words hit you harder than you expected.
Blaise’s mother leaned back in her chair, watching you closely. “It’s the law of the land now. For families of status, it is a non-negotiable expectation. The bloodline must be preserved. It is your duty as a couple, as future heads of your respective houses, to ensure the continuation of that legacy.”
You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. The idea that you—both of you—were being forced into such a decision was infuriating, and yet, you knew it was coming. This wasn’t just a suggestion. This was an ultimatum.
“I’m not having a child,” you said, your voice cool but steady, every word sharp with defiance. You looked at Blaise for support, but his expression remained unreadable. You could feel the tension building between you and his mother, but you refused to look away.
His mother’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it seemed to tighten, like a mask slipping into something more calculated.
“You misunderstand,” she said, her voice smooth but sharp. “This is not a choice, darling. The law is quite clear. You will have one child. You are obligated to, for the good of both families.”
Blaise shifted uncomfortably beside you, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t speak. His mother was an immovable force, and he was used to navigating these conversations. You, however, had never been good at swallowing injustice.
“You can’t force us to have a child,” you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. “This world is a prison. We can’t bring a life into it, not when it’s nothing but a chain around its neck. Not when—” you broke off, your voice rising in frustration. “This is insane.”
His mother’s smile remained, but the edge in her eyes darkened. “The law is the law,” she said, her tone final. “It is non-negotiable. And let’s be clear: failure to comply with the law has consequences. I’m sure you understand the weight of those consequences, dear.”
You swallowed hard, your mind racing. The truth was clear. Refusing to comply with the law meant more than just a personal choice—it meant rebellion. It meant a loss of status, a severing of ties with everything you had ever known. The weight of it pressed down on your chest, but your resolve didn’t waver.
“I’m not going to be forced into this,” you replied, trying to ignore the heavy thrum of your pulse in your ears. “I won’t be part of a system that treats life like a commodity.”
Her gaze never wavered, cold and calculating. “You may think you have a choice now,” she said quietly, her words like ice, “but soon you’ll realize there is no escaping this. Not for you. Not for Blaise.”
You turned to him, finally meeting his eyes, searching for some sign of agreement, some flicker of support. But he only looked tired, resigned. He knew the stakes, perhaps better than anyone.
“You don’t have to agree with it,” his mother continued, her smile returning, sharp as ever. “But you will comply. It’s for the family, for the legacy. For the future.”
The silence stretched for a long moment before Blaise spoke, his voice low. “We’ll do what we have to.”
But even as he said it, the bitterness hung in the air, heavy with the understanding that, in the end, there was no real choice. There was no escape. And as much as you wanted to fight it, you knew it wasn’t a battle you could win.
The law was clear. You would have to have a child. There was no way around it.
And the thought of it made your stomach churn.
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When you both arrive at the house it feels cold, even with the fire lit it still doesn't feel like a home. You go to head to your seperate room, but you stop in the middle of the staircase. "We'll do what we have to do?"
You turn to look at him as he takes his coat off, "What did you want me to say?"
"I didn't want to speak for me." You huff, walking back down the stairs meeting him in the middle of the foyer.
"You are my wife, I am your husband, we speak for each other." He shakes his head, it feels almost demeaning.
"You do not speak for me."
"So what you want to get locked up? Them to make us have a child?"
"I'm not scared of them."
"You should be." He speaks softly, "I am. You don't know what they're capable of."
"I know! You think I don't! They killed my friends, forced me into marrying you under the threat of death!" You raise your voice.
"That's just the fucking start." He rubs his hands on the back of his neck. "Listen, I may not like you as much as I should with you being my wife and all, but that doesn't mean I want you to die."
"God, that's the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me." You roll your eyes. You turn to move back up the stairs.
"Where are you going? We're not done with this conversation." He follows you up the stairs.
"What you want, getting it over with." You enter your room as he still follows you. You start unzipping your dress, he makes a noise and you see him turn around.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He looks towards the door.
"You're gonna get me pregnant, so we don't die or whatever."
"Not like this." He sighs, holding his head in his hands.
"Jeez, Zabini, never seen a girl naked before?"
He just lets out a laugh, shaking his head. "Turn around." He shakes his head. You take a step towards him, your hands on his shoulders, "Blaise, look at me."
He reluctantly turns around, when he faces you he tries to keep his eyes on your face but he can't help but let his gaze trace your frame. You stand there only in your underwear, totally vulnerable in front of him. "This is doing what he have to do, Blaise."
You move your hand to his jaw, to guide his eyes back to your own. "This can't be why we do it."
"Then think of something else, someone else, it doesn't matter." You shrug, even through the thought of him thinking of someone else is gut wrenching to you.
"I can't." His plead sounds so desperate, so light. Suddenly you think you've crossed a line, something you can never come back from. You move back but his hands shoot back to you, holding your waist, pushing your body against his. "I can't think of anyone but the person I really want."
"Wha-" You go to speak, but he pulls you in for a bruising kiss.
He lifts you up in his arms, turning around so he can hold you up against the door. You start to unbutton his shirt as he moves his thumb back and forth on the back of your thighs. He turns around and crawls on his knees up the bed with you still in his arms, he sets you down softly, and crawls down your body with his lips.
"Fuck, you're beautiful." He murmurs into your skin, you groan and push your body into his lips. "Get it over with, my fucking ass. Imma take my time with you."
"Try not to take too long?"
"Oh? Are you feeling needy today?"
"Use your mouth for something better than talking." You grab the back of his neck and pull his back up to your lips. He laughs into you are he slowly- too slowly, taking off his clothes. "Blaise, I swear if you don't do something I will kick you out of my room."
He chuckles again and releases his cock out of the confines of his pants, "Already ready for me, Darlin? Such a good girl."
You moan into his mouth as you feel the tip of his cock toy with your entrance. You buck your hips in the air, making it slip into you even more, "You greedy lil' thing, huh?"
"Zabini." You growl, looking at him with heavy eyes.
"Yes?" He smirks up at you.
"Shut your mouth." You grab his jaw tightly.
"As you wish, princess."
He enters you with a force and a groan, you just lay there and feel every single inch, every single vein and curve. He sits inside of you without moving, letting you settle, but you decide that he's taking too long and you flip yourself over so you're sitting on top of him.
Blaise throws his head back at the site of you, you place your hands on his stomach as he places his on your hips, guiding you back and forth in a rocking motion. He leans up and puts his chest up to your front as he starts to whisper encouraging words in your ear, feeling you up and down, grabbing your ass, helping you move.
"Let go f'me, sweetheart." He sounds drunk on you, as you can. feel him letting go. "Gonna put a baby in you."
"Fuck, do it." You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck. You feel his release inside of you and you finally let yourself go as well.
You both fall to your backs as Blaise uses his shirt to clean you up. Once he settles back into bed he finally speaks, "Wanna talk about it?"
"Tomorrow, I'm tired." Your falling asleep on his chest and he's completely content with that in this moment.
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When Blaise wakes up he moves his arm to feel your body but all he feels a cold sheet next to him. He gets up and puts on his underwear to walk down to the kitchen, figuring you'd be there. Only to see dishes in the sink and an empty house. He knocks on the bathroom door, looking for you.
He turns the entire house upside down, looking for you, but with no luck he doesn't find you anywhere. He decides that maybe you went somewhere and forgot to leave him a note. He makes breakfast for himself, but there's a bad feeling in his gut, but he knows it's probably all in his head.
But when the clock turns to noon, then to three... when the sun goes down is when Blaise finally lets himself worry, he writes letters to everyone he knows. His last resort is those Muggles in town, when no one knows where you are he heads to the abandoned house. He doesn't know the incantation so he just desperately knocks, when he receives no answer, he heads pathetically back home.
On his walk back home he notices a tray of food on the ground. Then the bad feeling finally lands, something is wrong, something is so wrong.
When he arrives back home after looking all over the streets and alleys he finally walks inside to see a brown owl set on a perch.
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He knows the code name, Draco and him have been using it for months, passing information back and forth from the ministry, keeping each other in the know.
He grab anything, he drops the letter and runs to the floo network.
He arrives at the Ministry after a sickening trip. He walks fast, but not too fast to be suspicious.
Blaise works his way to the elevator only to find a familiar face when he walks in. Rodolphus Lestrange sends him a sneer. Ever since the Zabini’s decided to be a neutral party during the war they don’t have too many friendly faces in the ministry.
“What brings you here, Zabini.” Rodolphus sounds accusing.
He doesn’t speak too quickly, not wanting to raise suspicion. “"I’m looking into some old family records in the Department of Magical Transportation. Family business, you understand, I’m sure."
“I do.” The rest of the ride is silent, just sneaky glances from Rodolphus to Blaise, he can tell the man doesn’t believe him, but at this moment he doesn’t care.
Once it lands on Rodolphus’ stop and the man slowly exits, Blaise can finally let out a breath.
He tries to calm his breathing as he walks out on level 2, Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Blasie makes his way down a long, cold, dark hallway, trying to walk like he belongs here, which he absolutely does not. After turning a corner he sees one of the only friendly faces here.
"I can't go in with you." Blaise understands why Draco can't help him, he's already doing too much, he's jeopardizing so much just by letting him in. Blaise nods, giving him a look of gratitude. "78."
After opening the door, Draco walks the opposite direction of the door.
Blaise feels like he's walking for years, one number after another.
75...
76...
77...
78, he finally sees the number he's looking for. He tries to hear through the door, but he knows it would be no use. He just opens the door and what his eyes spot is something he couldn't even imagine. You are shackled from the ceiling, almost unconscious, he would think you were dead if he didn't here your laboured breathing.
His hands start to shake as he approaches you, he speaks your name softly, You try to lift your head, trying to look at him, but you can't smother the energy to do so. "I'm getting you out of here."
But he didn't think of a plan, he has no idea how he's going to do that
He uses the only spell he can think of to get the shackles off of you wrists, then he grabs you, wrapping your body around him. When he walks you out the door he hears echoing footsteps coming from behind him.
Instead of going the way he came he moves the other way, away from the entrance. He walks faster and faster as the footsteps get closer. He finds an office and hurriedly hides in there. God, luck is on his side today. There's a floo network in the office, he hurriedly floos back to your house, but he knows neither of you are safe there.
When he gets back to your house, he sees someone he hasn't seen in years sitting on his couch. Hermione Granger meets his eyes, "Granger, wha-"
"Draco sent me, I have a safe house for you." She stands and walks over to you both.
"I don't understand." Blaise shakes his head, looking to you.
"It's time you finally meet The Resistance."
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Reblogs and Likes are appreciated
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ttrashlord · 2 days ago
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STEB SFW/NSFW HEADCANONS
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A/N-This is my first time writing smut so,pls be kind with critics <3 (@moonstrider9904 its the owner of the gif)
P.s-i was listen to Lana del rey while doing this ;)
Warnings:mentions of kinks (cockwarming,bdsm,oral sex,etc),oral sex (Female and male receiving),
Pairing:Female!reader x Steb
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-SFW-
Steb is such a gentle lover,he won't just do anything without your consent or go too rough or fast,he won't go slow either,he will adjust at your rythm,just as you are.
He will steal you kisses all time at home,at all time.Youre cooking? A stolen kiss. Reading at the couch? Don't look behind you,because a Wild Steb will be waiting there.
He is not a coffee lover ( as i said in another headcanon) but he surely loves tea!,so whenever you two decide that you want to do a lazy day or just thake breakfast in bed (most of the times,he does the breakfast),he is ready!
He enjoys going shopping,and even more if it's with you! He makes a whole list but you don't take different parts,no,you do the whole shopping TOGETHER.
I saw an account saying that Steb would have french accent (SORRY I DONT REMEMBER THE ACCOUNT) which i believe 2 things:
He can SPEAK french,because it's one of the lenguages he can speak,but he has British accent (just imagine ladies)
Have you seen the manhwa sign? Well,hearing his voice by the first time has the same reaction that yohan did on soohwa
He Will listen to whatever music you listen to
But he is a lana del rey boy
He likes tickle wars,but only when he's winning >:/
He didn't used to have a lots of things in his wardrobe until you came to his life,then you started to be like a fashion designer to him and started to tell him what could fit him and what he should try/buy.
He really apreciates this,because It feels like it's worth It to worry how he looks apart from his enforcer uniform
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-NSFW-
(pls let me get ready for this)
If in his normal life he is a shy,a man of poor words,but believe me when i say this,he is comunicative in bed
If he needs you/something he'll say,he won't do any rodeo about It,he is kinda shy about being too explicit,but he makes sure to let you know what he needs
Imagine that is been a long,tiring day,you two are enforcers and right now are working at the "peanut partro"l with cait as a Commander
Sure,she was great,but sometimes a pain in the ass as a boss.
So,when you two arrived home,you shouted to him as you lead your steps to the kitchen "i'm making dinner"
You put your apron on,and started to make something,but suddenly,a pair on blue,warm hand were embracing you stomach
Steb:mhm...you...mhm..
You didn't undertood a word of what he said because his head was pressed on your shoulder
You left your hands from the sink and put the on his hands,and asked him: honey,what did you say?
And as clear as water,he told you,putting his chin on your shoulder and his lip very near your lobe:
Steb:I need you....now....
He doesn't speak very much but damn he know how to use his mouth.At first,he was very shy to go down on you,saying he never didi It on anyone else,but the more he thinks about it,the more he wants It.
The very first time he went down on you he was inexperienced,but he is someone that learns pretty easy,so the first time uses It to learn as much as he can for you,what do you like? What reaction what can he get from you?
BUT when you first when down on him? Girl are you trying to kill him?
You did It the very first time you two has sex,and he hated to admit how fast he did came when your Lips touched his tip.Only using your hands,going Up and down was...such a view,and even while you were looking at him with such pretty eyes,but when you decided to use your Lips,he fainted.
The first time you had sex you decided to go missionary.It's confortable,it's intimate and he can be as close to you and look at you
Saying this right now ,MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM,he loves it,he loses it.
His favoutire positions are:
Cowgirl,the Lotus,any variation of the missionary,and any position where he can see your face.
I believe that he has Big dick energy (DON'T KILL ME) but not THAT much,just above avarage.but the () it's pretty normal.
I believe he has the prettiest dick, i mean,i can't say look, but think about It:
More than avarage lenght,let's say () while not erected,but when it's erected It passes to be ().
And it's pretty firm,very curvy,just a prefect curve that helps you to make your own climax even better.
His () as on the avarage side,making It ().
Meanwhile the colour tip it's a pretty pinkish colour,not a full Pink but It shades into Pink.
He loves eye Contact,but most of all kissing you and showing to you how much he loves your body,in any way possible.This is like mosning your name as loud as he can (yes,he doesn't only moan,he groans,growls,do any sounds you can imagine) worshipping you,telling you how good you feel,etc.
And kissing you is something that he does:
1-when he is about to come,he feels It,and he needs to show you how good you make him feel
2-if it's a very intimate sex session (like,you're not only fucking but "making love")
He is such a gentleman,he can adjust at your rythm with any problem, did you tell him to go faster? For sure faster It is. You told him you don't want to come yet? He understands,he slows the pace and waist for you.
His kinks are on the "normal" side:
Praise kink,slight bdsm (chokers,blindfolds,and sometimes shibari) oral (receiving and giving),cockwarming,slighlty erotic asfyxiathion (on him)
But most of the times,he enjoys "normal sex" and always will prefer to "make love" with rather than just "fucking"
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HEYYY THIS IS MY VERY FIRST TIME WRITING NSFW DON'T HATE ME ON THIS!
this took me soo long because i had no idea what to write for him so,here it is!
Hope you like it!
Also! I wanted to thank @saradika-graphics for this beautiful dividers,if need any, she surely has! (Or ask a request).
That's all loves,bye!
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eatmyheartoutjpg · 8 hours ago
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𓇻 đ—§đ—„đ—ąđ—šđ—•đ—Ÿđ—˜đ— đ—”đ—žđ—˜đ—„ i á”ƒÊłá¶œá”ƒâżá”‰ ËŁ á”âż Êłá”‰á”ƒá”ˆá”‰Êł
𝙎đ™Ș𝙱𝙱𝙖𝙧𝙼 ;; Multiple short chapters. Platonic. In which you're a teenage troublemaker who ends up on Silco's radar. He ends up taking you in (unofficially adopted). đ˜Œ/𝙉 ;; Will be a multi-parter! This is a short series and collection of dynamics, interactions, and scenarios. I really wanted to write something about the reader being an unofficial adopted child of Silco's. These are also longer than what I usually post!
11.30.24 Masterlist
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You were an orphan, like countless others scraping by in Zaun. But unlike some, you didn’t mourn the absence of family. Having never known your parents or having a guardian figure, you thrived on independence, learning to fend for yourself from an early age.
Without any guidance, you grew up doing whatever you pleased—and that often meant getting into trouble. Fights became your playground, and through sheer stubbornness and repetition, you honed your combat skills. Street scuffles were your life, and though you didn’t start all of them, you were always ready to finish them. You’d end up earning quite the reputation. People either cursed your name or watched their backs when you were around, wary of a flying fist coming their way. To some degree you enjoyed that wariness. 
One day, your bold attitude landed you in the wrong scuffle—or the wrong crowd, so to speak. After an intense fight, you realized (too late) that the people you just beat down weren’t random street thugs; they were Silco’s henchmen, and worse, they were highly respected in the Undercity.
For someone like you, it wasn’t personal, it was just law of the land in Zaun. You didn’t even keep tabs on Zaun’s power dynamics. But your little “incident” painted a target on your back—and it got Silco’s attention instantly.
Now, teens causing trouble wasn’t anything new for Silco, but your knack for stirring chaos caught his eye. The more he heard about your raw combat skill and reckless attitude intrigued him—and irritated him in equal measure. He ordered Sevika to track you down, wanting to know more about the unruly fighter who was making waves across the streets, still debating on what to do with you. Sevika couldn’t help but be somewhat interested in who you were as she gathered intel. The laundry list of curses and complaints thrown your way amused her—maybe even reminded her of herself back in the day. Still, orders were orders, and soon, she was on your trail, something you were not aware of.
It was a quiet moment for you, perched on the splintering wooden railing of a dock, snacking and enjoying a rare moment of peace. The dull noise of the Undercity buzzed in the background, but here, it was calm. Or so you thought.
You didn’t hear the heavy footsteps behind you– it was masked by the sound of the waters below– and didn’t register the looming presence until–
“Gotcha.”
The world tilted as a rough hand yanked the collar of your jacket. Your snack fell into the water below, splashing quietly as you were unceremoniously hauled off the railing, landing hard on the dock with a loud thud.
The impact let out a shock of rippling pain down your spine.
“What the hell?!” you snapped sharply, coughing and groaning as you scrambled to your feet.
Towering over you was Sevika, her imposing figure blocking out the dim glow of the lights behind her. She stood with arms crossed, her mechanical arm gleaming faintly, flanked by a few henchmen you didn’t recognize. 
“Guess you’re the little punk everyone’s been complaining about,” Sevika said, voice dry with amusement, though the amusement didn’t fully reach her eyes.
You narrowed your own. “What’s it to you?”
“You’re on Silco’s radar now, kid. Consider this a courtesy call.”
“Fuck.” you uttered under your breath, holding back a loud groan at your own recklessness. You weren’t the type to keep up with Zaun’s underworld hierarchy, but even you knew the name. “I don’t work for anyone, it wasn’t a hit job or anything, just another street fight.”
Sevika tilted her head, unimpressed. “Right. Let’s just make this easy. You’re coming with us.”
Your fists slowly clenched as you narrowed your eyes at her. “Like hell I am.”
And before anyone could react, you swung at Sevika, aiming squarely for her jaw and landing a very solid hit.
It didn’t faze Sevika in the slightest. She responded with a calculated strike to your side, knocking the air out of your lungs. The henchmen moved in, but you weren’t going down without a fight.
One swing after another, you landed solid hits. One of the henchmen doubled over, clutching his ribs, while another stumbled back with a forming bruise on his cheek. You grinned through the pain, exhilarated by the chaos.
But you were easily outnumbered.
Sevika grabbed your wrist mid-swing and twisted, forcing you to your knees. “You hit harder than you look,” she said, almost impressed, before shoving you toward one of the henchmen.
“Let’s go.”
You struggled and cursed as they dragged you away, your ego bruised more than your body. You lacked self preservation, but you did feel somewhat satisfied that you somewhat held your own.
They dragged you through the dim, twisting back corridors of the Last Drop. The faint hum of machinery and the murmur of voices blended with the steady clink of Sevika's boots. You didn’t bother to struggle much anymore—you’d exhausted your strength fighting them off earlier. Instead, you focused on memorizing every twist and turn, every detail of this place.
Finally, the henchmen shoved you through a large iron door into a dark, smoky room. At the far end sat Silco, reclined in a high-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other. His mismatched eyes, one fiery and orange, the other cool and calculating.
“Ah, so this is our troublemaker,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair. “You’ve been... busy.”
“You’ve been meddling,” you shot back, ignoring Sevika’s warning glare and subtle shove. 
Silco chuckled softly, gesturing for the others to leave. 
“Stay,” he added when Sevika started to follow. She stepped back to the corner of the room, arms crossed but watchful.
You crossed your arms, refusing to show weakness even as your body ached from the earlier fight. “If this is about your guys, tell them not to pick fights they can’t win.”
“Bold,” Silco remarked, a smirk playing on his lips. “But misguided. They weren’t the aggressors, were they?”
You hesitated but quickly masked it with a defiant glare. “You’ve got something to say? Say it.”
Silco stood, slowly walking toward you. He stopped just short of entering your personal space, his hands clasped behind his back. Up close, his presence was even more unnerving, his calm demeanor belying the power he held.
“You’re reckless,” he said, his voice low but firm. “No regard for alliances, no understanding of consequences. And yet...” He tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle piece. “You’ve made it this far. Alone. That takes talent.”
“I don’t need your approval,” you quipped..
“No, but you need someone to temper that fire,” Silco replied. “Without guidance, that strength of yours will get you killed. And quite frankly, I’d rather not waste such potential.”
You frowned, unsure where this was going. “What’s your point?”
“My point,” he said, stepping back slightly, “is that Zaun doesn’t need another wild card running loose. You’ve proven your capability. Now it’s time you prove your loyalty.”
You blinked. “Loyalty? To you?”
“To Zaun,” Silco corrected, though the distinction seemed thin. “But under my guidance, yes.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he raised a hand to stop you.
“Let me be clear,” he said, his tone icy. “You can continue down the path you’re on, burning bridges until there’s nothing left—or you can accept my offer. A place in my network. Protection. Purpose.”
“And if I say no?” you challenged.
Silco’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Then I let the Undercity decide your fate. The enemies you’ve made won’t hesitate to tear you apart. Sevika, for one, seemed to enjoy your little scuffle.”
You clenched your fists, glaring between Silco and Sevika. The room felt suffocating, the weight of the choice pressing down on you. You hated getting bitten back for all the shit you’ve pulled, and this seems to be the hardest bite.
You’d always been independent, always fought for yourself. The idea of working for someone—even someone as powerful as Silco—felt like a betrayal of who you were and what you pride yourself on. But his offer wasn’t without merit. Protection in Zaun meant everything.
“Well?” Silco prompted, his patience clearly finite.
You stared at Silco, jaw clenched, weighing your options. The fight in you wanted to refuse outright, to spit in his face and walk out the door. But the logical part of you—the one that had kept you alive so far—knew better. You’d already pissed off too many people, and the promise of protection wasn’t something you could dismiss lightly.
“Fine,” you muttered, glaring at the floor rather than meeting his eyes. “I’ll... work with you. But don’t think for a second I’m bowing down or calling you ‘boss’ because that’s really corny.”
Silco’s smirk grew, and you hated how satisfied he looked. “Good,” he said simply, turning back toward his desk. “I don’t need your indifference, just your cooperation. For now.”
Sevika let out a quiet snort from the corner, clearly amused.
“And what exactly am I supposed to do?” you asked sharply, crossing your arms. “Run errands? Break kneecaps for you?”
Silco waved a hand dismissively as he sat back in his chair. “Nothing so crude. You’ll start small—learning how we operate, understanding what it means to be part of something greater than yourself.” His mismatched eyes fixed on you again. “In time, we’ll see where your particular talents are best put to use.”
“You mean I’m on probation,” you said dryly, unamused at your situation.
“Call it what you like,” Silco replied with a shrug. “But consider this: I see potential in you, and I don’t waste resources. Prove you’re worth the trouble, and you’ll find more freedom under my wing than you ever had on your own.”
You hesitated, the words lingering in your mind. Potential. Freedom. They didn’t sit right with you—not yet—but you couldn’t deny the opportunity he was offering.
“Fine,” you said again, more firmly this time. “But don’t expect me to like it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Silco said, his tone light but his gaze piercing. “Sevika will guide you. Welcome to the fold.”
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˹ᔉᔛᔉⁿ
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dpspcehntr · 1 day ago
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In the spirit of being premenstrual and irritable, what do you think would be the cause of the LaDS and MCs first serious argument and who would snap first?
For Zayne, I believe it would be MC getting injured and Zayne being fed up with her "reckless" behaviour fighting wanderers. Even though he knows how capable they are, it's borne out of worry.
Xavier is so chill, I can't imagine him being angry even if MC gives him a Pennywise makeover while he snoozes and says nothing as he walks down the street looking like nightmare material. What would set him off, though? MC eats the last hotpot?
Sylus would snap because MC threatened to set him on fire one too many times lol
And Rafayel... The clouds aren't the right shape? MC cuddled her plushies more than she hugged him? The list of possibilities are endless with this dramatic fish boy, but what would make him really angry and not just pouty?
Hello again friend! Arguments with the boys I feel are rare, mostly because all of them seem to communicate well for the most part. Take all of this with a grain of salt as I am not an expert!
Zayne is kind of a no brainer. The first serious argument would be over MC’s reckless behavior during a mission. It would start as a stern “talking” to as MC’s doctor to which MC just blows him off. It would turn into a major fight because MC does’t take how serious the situation could’ve been. I don’t think it reached screaming match but the folks at the hospital do start to worry about the tone of his and MCs voices. Obviously Zayne is going to continue to be concerned for her health so she instead has to do a bit of work to understand where he’s coming from and be nicer when he does lecture her on her health.
Xavier is a tricky one cause I don’t think the thought of an argument is even possible for him. If anything it’s MC who is upset with something and lashes out. It’s because of his easy going nature that makes MC even angrier. Eventually they talk it out but yea an argument between these two will be because he hardly ever expresses his own emotions and goes for soothing and problem solving first.
Sylus would have an argument with MC about not taking the dangers of the N109 zone seriously. It would be something MC sees as not that deep but he would be quite upset at how little she cares about her well-being. Again not a yelling fit but you both don’t speak to each other for a few days after. Eventual apologies occur and then a discussion on how dangerous the N109 zone really is and reaching an agreement where MC can protect herself but not be smothered by Sylus’ need to be in control.
Rafayel early into his relationship with MC would have some small disagreement that he just harbors on for a while. He just kinda disappears for a few days and when he does resurface the issue has only gotten bigger. It would be a very tense and heated conversation for quite a while before both of them come to an understanding. After that, they both bring anything that bothers them to each other right away and hash it out.
Yea this stuff is not my forte but I tried 😭! I love angst but I’m so bad at it. I hope I did this some justice!
My ask box is open! Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS main 4! I might even write some of them up!
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