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absurdthirst · 3 months ago

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Online Love {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.3k

Warnings: Online dating, feelings of inadequacy, anger, upset, mentions of past bullying, Javi having restraint, oral sex (male and female receiving), tiny bit of body worship, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Comments: Coming home after Cali, Javi finds that his dad has moved into modern times. There's a computer in the house. Unsatisfied with his reputation proceeding him, he decides to go online to find out if he can be the man he wants to be. Except the one he connects with, you, has a very complicated past together.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

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.

The last thing that Javi expected to find at the Peña ranch upon his return, was a computer. He wasn’t even sure that his father had known what one was, let alone how to turn one on. But there it was. A great hulking machine that is set up in the dining room, taking up half the damn table. He had frowned at his pop, hands on his hips as he asked him what the hell he did with the damn thing. “Talk to people.” Chucho laughs at his son’s confused ire and slaps him on the back. “I got that dial up package added to the phone line. Even my accountant told me I needed one.”

Javier avoids the computer for weeks, eying it like it's going to turn on and take over the world. At least, that's what every Sci-Fi movie is about lately. He watches his pa try to cook scrambled eggs and snorts at the curses coming from his father's mouth while he flips through the paper. ‘Free Online Dating Membership. Join Match.com today!’ The ad in the corner catches his eye and he snorts again, wondering who the hell goes on the internet to find a date. He can go to any bar and pick up a woman. Well, he can get a one night stand. Every woman within fifty miles knows about the infamous Javier Peña and his reputation precedes him. The doorbell rings and Javier huffs, folding the paper to get the door. "I got it, pa." He tells his father who is still cursing the now burnt scrambled eggs.

"Oh, uh, hi. Javier." You clear your throat and Javier's eyes widen. He says your name and you are surprised he remembers you. "I have papers for Chucho." You hold up the folder and Javier steps aside. You walk into the kitchen to find Chucho rinsing out a frying pan, the smell of burnt eggs in the air, and you smile at the older Peña. "Just dropping off the quarterly report." You set the folder down.

“You’re his accountant?” Javi asks, following you into the kitchen and he can’t help that his eyes have fallen down to your ass as you walk in front of him. It is a habit when he is around a beautiful woman and you have become that. No longer the awkward and gangly girl he had remembered before he had left for Columbia, you have matured into a graceful woman. It isn’t quite fair because you weren’t too much younger than him.

“Yes.” You turn and give him a confused smile and tilt your head in curiosity at what he was meaning. You had always been good at math, enjoying numbers more than socializing.

“So that-” he points to the computer in the dining room, “is your fault?”

You chuckle a little, "don't you want to join us in the 20th century, Javier? It's nearly the 21st. A computer is the future." You take a step closer to Javier, lowering your voice, "besides, your dad can join forums. Speak to other ranchers. Other widows. There's a whole world out there and that computer brings it to him." You had noticed how lonely Chucho was and he is far too proud to say anything so you suggested the computer.

“What’s wrong with the annual rancher’s association meetings?” Javi snorts, rolling his eyes at the idea of his father courting widows through a computer. His mother was the love of his life, and he had honestly never even suggested moving on. He was still wearing his wedding ring that his mother placed on his finger nearly fifty years ago. “Going to town to the tack and feed store? Meeting people in person?”

You shake your head, "your dad is a proud man. He's loyal to your mother, even after all these years. You can't be honest about how you feel with people you've known for years. On the computer, you can be anonymous, you can tell someone how you truly feel without seeing the judgment on their face. You can be who you really are when you're behind a screen." You confess, knowing you have your own experience with that anonymity. "You wouldn't understand it. You've never had a problem with saying what you think."

That’s not true, and Javi opens his mouth to tell you that, but he stops. You said that one could be the person they wanted to be. Who they really are. Javi glances back at the computer again, contemplating that in a different light. Everyone knew Javier Peña, by his reputation, by the stories that had been written while he was in Colombia. They judged him, or treated him how they expected him to act. Every woman he had met recently just wanted to ‘see if the rumors were true’. He hadn’t taken many of them home. Looking back at you, he shrugs slightly, as if it’s not anything to him. “They are a pain in the ass when they act up.” He grunts.

You chuckle, pointing to the big book on the dining room table next to the computer. "Good thing you have the instruction manual." You quip and walk back over to Chucho who thanks you for bringing the report. "We need to work on the W2's next month." You tell Chucho who nods, "thanks, chiquita." He winks at you and grabs the egg carton. "Any chance you can cook scrambled eggs?" He asks and you giggle, "I would show you but I have to go meet Maria to explain why her new RV is not a tax write off." You chuckle and Chucho winks at you, "luego." You turn to look at Javier, "see you around, Peña." You show yourself out, exhaling deeply as you recognize that you couldn't avoid Javier forever.

Over the next few days, Javi eyes the computer. Debating with himself as he smokes out on the front porch. His dad still won’t allow smoking in the house even though his mother’s oxygen tanks were long gone. Looking at the outline of the large monitor through the screen door and contemplating your comment. He could be someone other than Javier Peña, manwhore or DEA disgrace. He wouldn’t be grumpy or sarcastic, not unless he wanted to appear that way. The person he could be online wouldn’t be burdened with the sorrows and mistakes that seemingly weigh him down. He blows out a breath and crushes out the butt before he yanks the door open and steps back into the house. His father is out for a few hours and he can at least turn it on to see what all the fuss is about.

You bite your lip as you log onto the website. You never imagined you'd join an online dating website. You had seen the video tapes from dating agencies and you never allowed yourself to get so lonely that you resorted to that but the internet brought a new option. You like that there's no photos. Only an initial and a location. It's anonymous and you chat, then decide if you like each other. Sure, you've had some bad matches in person. Some not at all like they described themselves, some total assholes. You keep trying though. You want to find your person.

“Goddamnit.” Javi scowls at the computer and bangs the enter button several times. “Why won’t you do it?” He hisses, seeing the little arrow over the area he wants to go, but it’s not doing anything. “Fuck.” He rolls his eyes at himself and grabs the stupid thing called a mouse. Why it was a mouse, he will never know, but he clicks buttons until the page starts to load, leaning back with an annoyed sigh while he waits.

You have a sip of wine as you wait for the website to load. You sigh, watching the screen flicker as the website is displayed pixel by pixel. When it's loaded, you type in your email address and password. Grabbing the mouse, you click the 'log in' button and lean back, waiting again for the website to load.

It’s been nothing but a pain in the ass to set up this page. Debating on what to put, he had gotten annoyed at himself several times and almost walked away. Now he’s ready to browse available women, but knowing his luck, there won’t be anyone for hundreds of miles.

You set your wine glass down, surprised to see there's a new person online. "J" is the name and his tagline says "here to be myself." That intrigues you. You bite your lip, contemplating clicking on the profile until you select it and wait for it to load. "Name is J. Looking to be myself, find someone to talk to who wants to get to know who I truly am. Texas born and raised. Work in law enforcement so not a creep." You chuckle at the bio and decide to click on the 'chat now' button. You take another gulp of wine and select his profile, typing out a simple "hi".

A box pops up with a loud ding, making Javi sit up. Someone is messaging him already. He tries to suppress the surge of pleasure in his stomach as he remembers to click the line so he can peck at the keyboard. “Hi.” He hits enter and then frowns slightly because it seems so impersonal. “How are you?” He notices the initial and adds that before sending the next message. Frowning as he waits for a response.

You are surprised he responded so fast and your stomach clenches with nerves as you type out “I’m good. Just having a glass of wine. How are you?” You type, glad for those hours you spent on typewriters back when you were a teenager trying to write a novel. It sucked but your typing skills are excellent.

“Well shit.” Javier huffs, slightly amazed at the speed of the reply. He’s used a computer, he had to in those final years with the DEA. Hated it, preferred the typewriter, but he had never really talked to someone online like this before. “What do I say now?” He asks himself, wishing he could light up a cigarette. Hunching over the keyboard, he begins a two finger pecked response. “Wine sounds good right about now, although a glass of whiskey and a cigarette is more my speed.”

You have another sip of wine, waiting for his response. It takes a while and you wonder if he’s walked away from the computer but it soon pings through the speakers and you read his reply. A chuckle escapes your lips, “typical man.” You snort to yourself and reply quickly, hitting enter to send the message. “I don’t smoke. Never have. I don’t care if someone does smoke. So what brings you to this website?” You chew on the skin of your thumb as you wait for his response. It’s nice to talk to someone different. Someone you haven’t known your whole life growing up in Laredo.

Javi feels slightly guilty about smoking as he reads your reply. He will have to air the house out before his pa gets home. Wondering why he’s actually here. “Want someone to get to know me and not what they think they know about me.” Javi types out slowly. “Like I’m trying to quit smoking again, and everyone tells me that I shouldn’t try.”

Your heart clenches at his honest reply. You glance over at the photo of you and your parents when you were younger, remembering how you’d get made fun of for being too geeky. For liking numbers instead of boys. “If you want to quit smoking, you should try. Do it for you. Not anyone else.” You hit send, and then type out “everyone tells me I need to get laid but I don’t want meaningless sex. I want a real relationship. Someone I can talk to and be real myself with.” You hit send before you can think too hard about your reply.

Javi snorts to himself. “Meaningless sex doesn’t help.” He types out. “Not in the long run. I know. Sometimes it just makes you feel worse.” He’s had plenty of time for self reflection and regret. “So who is the real you?”

You sigh and type out “I guess that’s what I’m wanting to figure out. I have been so sensible my entire life. I want to let loose a little. Enjoy life. I struggle to trust anyone and it’s led to me to isolating. Hence why I’m on here.” You hit send and take another gulp of wine, feeling vulnerable.

Javi understands that. “People always call me an asshole, not understanding that I’ve seen shit that would make grown men cry. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them I’ve cried.” He tells you and continues the message. “Letting loose sounds like something I need to do too.”

“Were you in the armed forces?” You type out and he replies, “something like that.” You hum, typing again, “well at least you know yourself. You should be able to cry. Doesn’t make you any less of a man because you cry. As for letting loose, maybe we could help each other out with that.” You hit send and take another sip of wine, glancing over at the clock. It’s getting late.

“We could do that.” Javi hums to himself as he starts to type out his response. “What’s your idea of fun?” He asks. “Or the theory of fun.” His idea of fun is so far removed he doesn’t remember anymore. “I like watching movies.”

“Watching movies is good. I love bowling. I haven’t been since I was a kid.” You confess when you type, “or just a day out in the sun. I work so much. It’s hard to relax. I want to succeed. Stand on my own two feet.” You hit send and exhale, realizing how long you’ve been holding this inside of you.

“Do you like the beach?” Javi asks in return, smirking to himself about going to the bowling alley a few towns over. “Or more of a swimming pool kind of girl? You are a girl, right?”

You giggle, imagining J furrowing his brow. “I’m a girl. It says so in the bio.” You hit enter and continue typing, “you’re a boy?” You ask him to confirm and he responds, “yes.” It said so in his bio but you can’t trust anything on the internet. “I love the beach. And the swimming pool. Pool is better for sex. The beach…sand gets in places you don’t want to imagine.” You shudder, remembering when you went to the beach with your first boyfriend and got sand in too many crevices.

Javi’s brows shoot up when you admit that. He chuckles to himself and decides to be completely honest. “Never had sex in a pool or at the beach.” He types. “Fucked in a swimming hole, does that count?” He asks, remembering the time him and Lorraine went down to the local swimming hangout.

You giggle, typing back, “it kinda does. So, what is the true J? A man of mystery. Perhaps you’re a spy and that’s why you haven’t let anyone close to you.” You smirk as you hit send.

Javi chuckles as he reads that and shakes his head like he is in the room with the other person. “Hardly. No one could ever accuse me of being Bond. I don’t have the patience for it.” He pauses, considering your question. “I’m secretly a romantic. Wishing that I had someone to share a future with. I want to love someone, have them love me. I want laughter and fun, quiet nights reading books, early morning cups of coffee with someone.”

You smile softly at the way he says he wants romance. You want the same thing. You want someone to be happy with, to make happy. You quickly type back “that’s exactly what I want. A partner. I want someone to laugh with, to share my day with.” You hit send before you can think too hard about it.

Smiling as he reads the message, he feels like someone is listening to him for the first time. Really listening to him. He licks his lips and feels like he’s crazy for feeling connected through a computer screen. “Until you find that partner, maybe we can share our days?” He offers, biting his lip and wishing he could unsend it just as soon as it’s posted.

“Absolutely.” You type back and hit send before you think twice. You have a good feel for J and you want to get to know him more, be that person he can talk to. It’s nice to have someone want to talk to you that doesn’t even know what you look like. You yawn, the wine and the long day getting to you, and you type out “I’m exhausted. Long day today. Chat tomorrow?”

Javi looks at the clock and is surprised by how long he’s spent online. Soon, his father will be back. “Sounds good. Sweet dreams.” He types out, sending it and wondering if whoever the other person is will sleep soundly or toss and turn like he normally does. He hopes that it’s the former.

You log off, getting ready for bed and you fall asleep to dreams of a partner who loves you and makes you happy and you make them happy.

****

The entire day you spend thinking about logging back onto the website. You try to concentrate on the numbers in front of you but it’s almost impossible to calculate when you think about what J might look like. His bio said brown eyes and brown hair. You wonder if he’s tall or short. You don’t care, you like talking to him. When you arrive home, you eat dinner and disconnect your phone so you can connect to the internet. The shrill tone of the dial up is a familiar sound to you but still makes you wince until you can log back on the website, tapping your fingers as you wait for any sign that J is online.

“Pa! Don’t pick up the phone, I’m going to be online!” Javi calls out from the dining room to the living room where his dad is laid back in the recliner in front of a soccer game. “I thought it was stupid?” The rough laugh of the older man feels like teasing but Javi rolls his eyes and huffs slightly. His reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he had a headache from staring at the screen last night. “Just don’t pick up the phone!” He demands again and starts to connect the computer so he can see how his online friend is doing this evening.

You smile when the speakers chirp with a new message alert. “Hi. How was your day?” He asks and you type out a quick response. “Long. Boring. But it’s looking up right now. How was your day?” You respond, wondering if he had a good day or if he found it as laborious as you did.

Javi has been looking forward to this all day, if he’s honest with himself. It was what had gotten him through another day of repairing fences and trying to fix everything on the ranch that his pop hadn’t been able to get to. “Seemed like it would never end.” He grins to himself when he thinks that you might have been looking forward to talking to him. “But I’m settled down with a beer, how about you? Got a glass of wine?”

You smile at his response, quickly typing “of course. Cheers, J.” You hit send and type another message. “I was thinking about you today. Wondered what kind of movies you like. What kind of music you like.” You know these questions are juvenile but you like chatting to him and getting to know him without any pressure.

Javi hums to himself. Intrigued that his mystery friend was thinking of him. He taps his chin, wishing for a cigarette, but he had put on a patch this morning, and starts to list them out. “Grew up watching westerns, but I think I like dramas.” He types out. “Action is alright, but they always depict shit wrong. Shooing a car’s gas tanks isn’t going to make it blow up.” He goes on. “Music, I’m still an easy listening, 70’s kind of guy. What about you? What’s your taste in movies and music?”

You snort at his answer about action not being accurate. You type back, “I love dramas. And romance. Westerns…my dad used to watch them so I’ve seen almost every western out there. John Wayne was a big hit in my house growing up. As for music, 70s, 80s. I’m not sure about the 90s. Music is changing. I miss the ballads and classic rock.” You hit send and take a sip of wine, the dial up crackling in the background.

Javi snorts and shrugs slightly, like he’s talking to someone in person. “80s music is a little too peppy for me.” He admits with a grin as he types it out. “Power ballads are amazing.”

You nod as if he’s in the damn room with you and you fluster as you catch yourself. “I can’t imagine you as a Huey Lewis listener.” You type out and he types back, “how do you imagine me?” You bite your lip, “well, your bio says you have brown eyes and brown hair. So I’m guessing your eyes are a little jaded from shit you’ve gone through but also soulful, like the key to your emotions is in your eyes. Most men are guarded but their eyes tell their story.” You hit send, hoping he doesn’t think you’ve overstepped.

Suddenly, he feels like this person is in the room with him and has stripped him naked. Not of his clothes, but of his armor. “I rarely look in the mirror. Except when I’m shaving.” He admits. “But my momma used to say she could tell everything I was feeling through my eyes.”

Your heart aches for the man, clearly he’s been beaten up by life and you want to hold him, tell him it’s all okay. You type back, “wise woman your momma. I understand how you feel. I’m not haunted by demons but I was bullied as a kid until I left school. Too nerdy, not pretty enough. Not thin enough. It still affects me to this day.” You hit send and take a large gulp of wine.

Javi frowns when he sees your words and hates how that could be possible when you are a sweet person. “Size doesn’t matter. Every body type is beautiful in some way.” He types out. “I love women of all shapes and sizes. Pretty only lasts as long as age. It’s the soul that makes a person beautiful.”

His words melt your heart, a man who doesn't just want the pretty Playboy bunny girl to fuck. He seems genuine, unlike most men you meet. "Exactly. That's how I feel. You are attracted to their aura, their personality...looks are a bonus." You hit send and smile into your wine glass, wondering if you should suggest meeting up. His bio shows that he is within 20 miles of you.

“Exactly.” Javi types back immediately. “I want someone who will build a future with me, but also be willing to jump into the truck with a cooler of sodas, a full tank of gas, a map and no destination in mind.” He had imagined taking a road trip once, with Lorraine and she had immediately vetoed it. It might be one of the things that caused him to start rethinking their upcoming marriage so many years ago.

Your stomach twists at how perfect he seems, how he seems to completely understand you. "Well, if you ever need a road trip buddy. I'm your gal.” You type back, a grin on your face and you know you look ridiculous. His chat goes offline after that and you frown, confused and wondering if you did something to upset him.

"Pa! Get off the phone!" Javi yells at his father who picked up the landline, forgetting that Javi is online. "Sorry mijo. I forgot." He admits, slamming the phone down.

“Damnit.” Javi hisses, hoping that you weren’t insulted by his internet dropping out. He listens to the modem dialing and it seems like it’s taking forever. “Hurry up, hurry up!” He growls, his stomach flipping unpleasantly at the idea of you thinking that he’s just done with the conversation. It takes forever in his mind, even if it’s just a few minutes and he’s relieved when the chat reconnects. “Fuck, I’m sorry. My dad picked up the phone.” He types out quickly.

You’re surprised that he lives with his dad but you can’t judge, you lived with your parents until you finished university. His bio says he’s over 40. “It’s fine! Shit happens.” You hit send and giggle slightly, wondering if he was frustrated that the connection dropped. “Thought you didn’t want a road trip buddy.” You tease, watching the message go through for a few seconds until it says delivered.

“Get me out of here!” Javi types back quickly, chuckling to himself. “I never thought living with my dad again would be so frustrating.” He admits. “I moved back to help him and it doesn’t make sense to live somewhere else. He’s stubborn and doesn’t want to admit he’s getting older.”

You like that he is living with his dad to help him. You like that he seems to be a family man. “One day you’ll miss him when he’s gone.” You type, hitting send. “Do you want kids? Marriage?” You ask, curious if he’s interested in that.

Javi frowns as he contemplates that question. It had been one that Lorraine had sort of asked him, in a way, when she asked him if he had imagined their life together. He had. He would have never had kids while he was DEA, but he’s done with that part of his life now. He could have that if he wanted, so does he? He flexes his fingers and starts to type. “Never really thought it was going to happen for me.” He replies. “But I could see it. Now. Had a dangerous job for a long time and I wouldn’t have ever thought about it then. But yeah, I would want that. You?”

You ponder his answer, appreciating his honesty and you aren’t rushing him down the aisle but you like to know if you’re on the same page because you like him. You type back “I want kids someday. If it happens. I’m a big believer that things that are meant to be, happen.”

Javi leans back, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about that. There’s been plenty of times he probably should have become a father, by accident, but it had never happened. He had made sure not to leave any kids behind for the mothers to take care of while he had moved on. He notices that your profile says you are in your 30s. So there’s still time. “One? Two?” He types out. “Boy? Girl? Both?”

You are surprised he’s not running a mile at this conversation. Most men would. “Two. One of each ideally but I’d take healthy babies any day.” You hover to hit send before you add, “what about you? Any ideas on kids?” You hit send and rub your cheek, hating how much you like this guy. Someone whose name you don’t even know. You have no photo, no additional information.

Javi never really thought about it before, not sure if it would matter. He shrugs slightly. “Happy, healthy, safe.” He replies. “Not sure if you really have any options. You’re gonna get what you get. Least that’s how I look at it.”

You chuckle, replying back, “very true. Healthy. Happy. Safe. That’s what everyone wants.” You like that he didn’t say “boy” like every other man would. You chat for another hour, turning the conversation to the best movies of all time until you look at the clock. “I could spend all night talking but I have to get up earlier to get to work. Goodnight J.” You hit send, deciding to wait for his response before you log off.

****

Javi is happy that he installed a second line to the house for the internet. Now he doesn’t have to worry about his pa picking up the phone and kicking him offline. He’s been talking to the woman online for weeks, deciding to call her ‘sweetheart’ instead of just by her initial. It’s funny, because he’s received messages from other women, but he isn’t even interested in responding. Despite his playboy ways before, he had no desire in getting to know anyone else. Grinning as your chat pops up, his typing improves, he quickly greets you. “Hey sweetheart, how was your day? That client’s son still being an asshole?”

You scoff to yourself as you type, “hey handsome. Yeah, he is. God, he thinks he knows better and he’s always been that way. He was best friends with my brother when we were growing up and he was a dick back then.” You hit send, glad you can vent about Javier Peña. He questioned the amount of write offs his dad was submitting with his quarterly filing.

“Just ignore him, he’s probably unhappy.” Lord knows he’s fully aware some people are just unhappy with being questioned. He had tangled with his dad’s accountant again today, frustrated because he knew that the assholes he used to work with wouldn’t stoop to hit his dad to get back at him. Of course, Miss Priss had looked like she was sucking a lemon talking to him about everything. Like he was just trying to make her job harder. He didn’t want his dad to get audited. “Wine or something stronger tonight?” He asks.

“Stronger. Whiskey.” You confess, “he really annoyed me. He thinks he knows best and I wish you could go head to head with him. I think you’d come out on top.” You hit send and take a sip of whiskey. You sigh, rubbing your eyes as you look down at your nails, you really need to get a manicure soon.

Javi chuckles to himself, grinning at the screen and feeling oddly proud to have the confidence of his sweetheart. “I’ll talk to him, see if I can’t get him to back off.” He volunteers. “Can’t let someone upset my sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at the way he calls you his sweetheart. You have talked every night for weeks. You know that he struggles with the things he’s seen. “You’re too sweet, handsome. He wouldn’t know how to handle you.” You giggle as you hit send and take another sip of whiskey, feeling brave. “I know we have been talking for a few weeks. Would you like to meet up?” You hit the backspace, changing your wording, “would you like to meet me sometime?” You hit send and exhale shakily, nervous of his response.

Swallowing harshly, Javi’s eyes must run over your worse half a dozen times before he can grasp that you want to meet him. He types “Yes” before he thinks about it and changes it to “Yes, absolutely.” He doesn’t know when you want to meet but as soon as he sends it, he’s immediately typing again. “You said you haven’t been bowling in forever. Why don’t we do that?”

You are shocked that he remembered what you said from one of your first conversations together online. You immediately type back, “yes, absolutely! I would love that. Are you free on Friday? 7 pm?” You hit send before you think twice about it and you feel giddy at the thought of finally meeting the mystery man you’ve been talking to for weeks on the computer. Hope that you can meet his expectations of you and that he is some kind of creep. Normally you would never meet someone off of the Internet without knowing their full name but you do like the aspect of mystery of him and also you trust him. As insane as that sounds, you trust your mystery man.

Javi hasn’t grinned so widely since he was a teenager, feeling his stomach flutter and twist in pleasure. He types out the name of the bowling alley that is in the next town over, he’s heard that one is better. “Is that one close enough for you? I’ve heard there aren’t as many bowling leagues there, taking up all the lanes. We can bowl and have a few drinks, nothing too fancy.” He sends that and then chuckles. “I’ll even get some nachos and hamburgers.”

Your face hurts from grinning and you type back, “you are spoiling me, handsome. That works for me. I’ll see you there on Friday at 7pm. I’ll wear red lipstick so you know it’s me.” You hit send, reaching up to touch your lips. J had said he loves when a woman wears red lipstick.

Javi can’t even stop nodding at the computer screen. It’s a dumb habit, but he always feels like he is talking to his sweetheart face to face instead of through a screen. “I’ll get there early to make sure we’ve got a lane.” He promises. “I’ll be in a red shirt to match your lips.”

****

Friday comes around and you are nervous all day. Exhaling shakily, you check your red lipstick in the mirror of your car before you lock it up and head into the bowling alley. You’re here to meet J and you are nervous as shit. What if he doesn’t like how you look? What if you don’t live up to expectations? You enter the bowling alley and glance around, not seeing a red shirt so you make your way over to the front desk, hovering as you wait for your mystery man.

He’s got the lane and for some damn reason, Javi had decided to have too much coffee. Now paying for it with having to piss right as he sat down to wait. Trying to hurry as he washes his hands and rushes out of the bathroom. Scanning the people eagerly for the sight of red lips. His sweetheart will be early, he can tell from getting to know her over the past few weeks.

You glance around and see the one and only Javier Peña come out of the bathroom. You huff, "fancy seeing you here, Peña. Did not take you as the type for bowling." Your eyes drift down to his red shirt and your eyes widen, "J?" You choke, realizing he's the only person wearing a red shirt. This has to be a joke. Surely your online companion isn't here yet.

Javi’s eyes widen and he glances down at your lips. “Sweetheart?” He frowns slightly and wonders if this is some kind of sick joke. You hate him, think that you’re better than him because you deal with numbers all day. He could tell you things about numbers that would have your stomach churning. “What are you-“ he can’t even finish the question.

Your eyes widen at the nickname until you shake your head and let out a sarcastic laugh, "is this some kind of joke? Someone hiding with a camera? Did you - did you set up an account to mess with me? Manwhore Peña making out like he wanted something real? Please, you gotta be dreaming. I - oh God. You did this to mess with me. Well, fuck you handsome." You spit the nickname that once held affection for you and you spin on your heel, making your way out of the bowling alley, cheeks burning with mortification and tears stinging in your eyes.

Embarrassed at the people who are staring, Javi rushes out of the bowling alley, abandoning the lane he had already paid for. Spotting you as you hurry to your car, he admires the dress you are wearing even as he calls your name, breaking out into a jog to catch you. “Will you stop, goddamnit?”

You spin as you fumble to unlock your car. Your hands shake as you try to get the key in the lock. "What?" You hiss, knowing that you'll be a funny story he tells his friends tomorrow. The way it's always been. Javier used to make fun of you when you were in high school, your brother his best friend. Hell, your brother was supposed to be his best man until the wedding never happened.

He’s breathing harder as he comes to a stop in front of you, not panting but almost there. “Don’t- don’t leave.” He tells you, not reaching out but the anger on your face cuts deep. You loathe him, but there had to have been something you liked when you were talking to him online. “Look, if you’re - you go in and bowl.” He offers, holding out the slip to claim the shoes from the counter. “I paid for two games, there’s a pitcher of beer and nachos that should already be waiting.” He explains. “I’ll leave, okay?” His eyes slide away from yours, unable to continue staring at you when you despise him so much.

You shake your head, your heart clenching. You really thought you had something special with J. You don’t take the slip from his hand, your eyes stinging with unused tears. “I’ll go. You go bowl, enjoy the beer.” You spit and growl as you try to open your door, managing to yank it open after a while. “I don’t want to be the butt of your jokes ever again.” You hiss as you get into your car and slam the door, turning on the engine.

Javi frowns as you throw your car into gear and pull out of the parking spot, swallowing harshly. His jokes? Yeah, he teased you when you were both younger, but you still take that to heart? He steps back and shoves the claim ticket into his pocket, turning to walk to his truck. The date is ruined and he feels like shit even though he doesn’t know why.

You make it home and when you enter your apartment, you start to sob. Embarrassed that your entire online relationship has been a big joke. You know Javier is probably laughing about leading you on. You collapse on the sofa, burying your face in your hands, and you spend the first night in a long time not on the computer.

Javi comes into a dark house, his pop already in bed and he sits down in front of the computer. Staring at the dark screen and wishing he had never agreed to meet. Now that he knows that it’s you, he doesn’t regret that he created the profile, but he hates the image of your distraught face. Sighing, he turns the computer on, deciding to send you one last message.

You sniff as you log onto your computer after dialing up, wanting to send an email to your mom to vent about what happened when your email pops up with “message from ‘J’ waiting.” You huff and log into the website. You open the message and rub your cheek, hating that the mascara you so excitedly put on is now smudged all over your face.

“Sweetheart….I want to apologize for ruining your night, and your life it seems. I’m sorry that the night was ruined and I wasn’t the man you had been looking for. Your dress was very pretty. I want you to know that I’ve enjoyed getting to know you over the past few weeks and you are wonderful. I hope that you don’t give up looking for that special person that you can explore and share with. Javier.” The message is simple and straightforward, but Javi worries that he might have overstepped by contacting you again at all.

You read his message a few times. Your heart pounding in your chest and you bite your lip as you ponder what to say to him. You thought about what happened during your drive home. You try to reconcile the Javier you know in the daylight to the man you’ve been speaking to for weeks. You clear your throat and type your response, “Javier. I didn’t know it was you when I was messaging you. I guess I was shocked because you used to make fun of me when we were teenagers. You joining my brother to make fun of his geeky sister. I thought you weren’t interested in anything but sex - I heard the rumors about you in Colombia. I can’t figure out how the man who fucked his way through Texas is the same man who told me he wanted romance. All I can think is that this is a big joke at my expense.” You sniff, hating that your eyes sting again. “I really like J and if you are that man, not the man who rolls his eyes when I point out some issues with his dad’s receipts, then I would like to try again. Talk in person.” You hit send before you can regret it.

Javi reads your message and it hurts. The magic of talking to you is now gone and he feels a heavy weight of guilt settling back down on his shoulders and he wishes he had a fucking cigarette. He sighs and starts to type. “Yeah, I made fun of you with your brother when we were teenagers. I was an asshole and it was wrong. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t address the manwhore comments, and decides to address the issue with his father. “I will stay out of your business.” He continues on. “I used to work with men who would dig and have others dig until they had leverage on you. I was just trying to make sure my pop didn’t suffer from me pissing them off.” He sighs and rolls his head around before continuing on. “For what it’s worth, I really was looking forward to that bowling date.”

You read his message, leaning back against your chair, and you swallow down the guilt that swirls in your stomach. Maybe you jumped to judging Javier. He was an asshole, but the guy who has been messaging you for three weeks has made your heart flutter. You bite your lip and type back, “I was really looking forward to it too. I’m sorry I'm defensive. I guess I have a complex from high school. Never being the girl that got asked to the dance and it’s given me some issues. I would never let your dad be dragged into something. I want to make sure he’s protected and doing things above board. Maybe we could try again? I really like J. I’m sure I’d like Javier if I gave him an actual chance.” You hit send and sigh, knowing that you have to accept what he says when he responds.

Javi sighs softly, aware this could be some kind of payback, but he doesn’t think so. “I guess it’s too late tonight.” He would go out, but you might not be able to do it tonight. “How about this? I’m free tomorrow night. If you want to do something, we absolutely can.”

You smile softly, typing out your reply. “Miguel’s? Tomorrow at 8?” You hit send and you know that this could be a massive mistake but you want to try. The man you’ve gotten to know has to be inside of the asshole you grew up with.

The bar in town is much more his speed and Javi quickly types out an agreement. “That sounds good. I’ll see you then.” He bites his lip. “Have a glass of wine and soak in a bath, sweetheart, you deserve it.”

You reread his words a few times, loving and hating the smile on your face. You log off the computer and follow his advice, soaking in the bath with a glass of wine.

****

You glance up at the shitty sign that Miguel’s has had since your papa used to come here and drink after work sometimes. You brush down your dress, walking into the bar and classic rock is playing as you look around for Javi. He’s sitting at the bar, glass of whiskey in front of him, and his eyes widen when he sees you. You walk over to him, a little unsure. “Hi. I guess we should reintroduce ourselves after yesterday.” You tell him, wanting him to know that this is you trying again.

Javi smirks slightly and nods, noticing that you are wearing that red lipstick again. “Red lips.” He hums, wanting to reach out and see if they are as soft as they look. “Guess that makes you sweetheart?” He asks, standing up and pulling out the barstool beside him for you to sit down. “Javier.”

You sit down on the stool beside him, “handsome.” You murmur, taking in the sight of him in a red shirt and you like how he’s trimmed his mustache. He offers you a smile and the bartender comes over. You order a glass of wine and you turn your gaze back to Javier. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I was - it was a shock to see you standing there.” You confess, thanking the bartender when he sets your drink down.

“I could tell.” He doesn’t smile or make light of it, nodding to the bartender himself. “I was surprised that it was you standing there.” Javier admits as well. “Although I guess I should have recognized the asshole son you had to deal with.” He snorts, having gone back through the archived conversations now that he knows it’s you and it’s almost silly that he didn’t figure it out before.

You fluster slightly, knowing you said some mean things about him. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was venting. It’s not easy dealing with numbers all day and then you come along and argue it all.” You raise your eyebrows, “I understand that you’re trying to protect your dad but you really are a pain in my ass.” You nudge him and he chuckles, shrugging a shoulder, “I won’t apologize for being protective.” You nod and pick up your drink to have a sip. “Cheers, J.” You reach out to clink your glass against his.

He chuckles again, nodding at sentiment and taking a sip as you do. “We could have used you in Colombia.” Javi compliments you. “Being so good with numbers, you could have spotted things that took us months to figure out with Escobar.” He snorts. “When he was in “jail”-“ Javi uses air quotes. “That asshole would truck in live lobsters. I would have paid money to see you go through his money trail.”

You set your drink down, “I highly doubt that his accountant was tracking his hard earned cash.” You snort and shake your head, “the things you’ve seen down there…I couldn’t even imagine it.” You confess, knowing that he went through a lot during his time in Colombia. “Thank you for the compliment though.” You offer him a smile, “could’ve used your interrogation skills when old man Garcia refused to pay for his filing.”

Javi snorts, imagining putting the screws to that old coot. “That’s when you threaten to tell Mrs. Garcia about his drinking.” He tells you with a wink. Old man Garcia’s wife is heavily religious and has a strict no alcohol rule in her house. You laugh and he taps the bar self consciously. “I wasn’t lying. Online.” He adds. “You know what people think of me. Hell, what you think of me.” He looks at you softly. “Our conversations have been the best parts of my day.”

You soften at the sincerity in his eyes, “me too. I loved talking to you.” You sigh and shake your head, “I think I have misjudged you. I just remembered you when we were younger and then the rumors I heard about Colombia. And leaving Lorraine at the altar. Didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture but I shouldn’t have judged you like that. I think J is the real you, right? If it is, then I want to start again because I like you, Javier. I liked J a lot so if you are the same man, I want to see where this goes.”

Javi smirks at you slightly and leans in. “I thought this was starting again, sweetheart?” He teases playfully. “I don’t mind you misjudging me.” Not exactly the truth, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Not as long as you give me a fair chance now.” He leans back. “Are you hungry? You always complain about waiting too long to eat. I don’t want you to do that tonight.”

You soften even more at the way he remembers how bad you are at eating and you nod a little too fast. “I’m starving.” You admit, “are you hungry? I wouldn’t mind getting some food after this drink.” You gesture to the bar top and you let your eyes take him in now that you aren’t fighting. His eyes are crinkled when he smiles and his dark hair has grays scattered throughout but he’s as gorgeous as ever. No wonder he fucked around so much. He could have any woman he wants.

“That sounds good.” He admits. “If you don’t want bar food, we could go somewhere else?” He knows you prefer casual over formal, which he really appreciates, but sometimes bar food isn’t what someone wants.

You shake your head, “I like the food here. They have amazing burgers.” You say and he nods, “the fucking best.” You relax a little more, taking another sip of your drink, and you let your eyes wander a little more, taking in the golden skin beneath his shirt, peeking through from the buttons he’s left undone. He notices your appraising eyes and smirks. You fluster and set your glass down, “you know how women see you.” You scoff softly, trying to cover your embarrassment at being caught.

Javi chuckles softly. “Like a notch in their bedpost.” He admits, shrugging slightly. “Last woman that hit on me told me she wanted to see if the rumors were true.” It’s not been a bad thing, but it’s not what he wants now.

His words make you frown and you feel a little guilty for eying him. "For the record, I don't think you could fuck all night long. At least that's what I heard in the grocery store a few weeks ago." You nudge him to show you're joking, "you are more than that. More than what people see." You add with a murmur, recalling the things he said to you. "You're handsome but you're smart, loyal, and funny." You say about the man you know online.

He’s grateful you don’t buy into the rumors and you are willing to judge him on what you’ve talked about. “I’m not eighteen anymore.” He huffs. “Three good rounds is about all I’ve got in me these days.” He admits, smirking slightly. “Four if you’re counting the next morning.”

Your throat goes a little dry and you pick up your wine to take a gulp. “Three is…more than I’ve had.” You confess, “one…sometimes half.” You snort and Javier chuckles, “one and a half.” You shake your head, “no. Half. He came before I did and he didn’t -” You sigh and chuckle softly.

Javi grimaces and shakes his head. “Fuck.” He snorts. “Every man has had a time where he’s too excited or worked up. But you have to make sure your girl squeals in pleasure.” He sends you a small sigh. “Sounds like you slept with some real assholes.”

You snort and nod, “absolutely. Some real assholes.” You echo his words and sigh, “I just want someone who wants me and I want them. To make them happy.” You echo your typed words, knowing he feels the same way.

Javi nods, listening rather than jumping in and offering to make you feel good. He wants to take this slow and show you - and himself - that things can be different. The bartender comes over and he asks for two menus before giving you his attention again. “When was your last relationship?” He asks. “I find it hard to believe that it’s been long. You’re too pretty to be single.”

You thought that Javier would have offered to take you to bed but the fact that he didn’t is refreshing. “Uh, you remember Frankie from the auto shop? I went out with him about two years ago. I’ve been trying to build my business and I haven’t really had time to date. I’m not a one night stand kind of girl.”

He cannot say the same, but he nods, understanding what you mean. “You have to have an emotional connect, right?” He asks, wanting to know more about you. He's still reconciling the woman online with his ex-best friend’s little sister.

You glance down at the menu, his dark eyes burning into you, but you love how his attention is solely on you. “Emotional and primal. I think that the chemistry has to be there from the beginning otherwise you’re possibly waiting for something that could never happen. I thought you were a dick for so many years but I’ve always been attracted to you. Our chemistry was bickering but it was still there from the beginning.”

Javi smirks proudly, his eyes heating up at your confession and he lifts a brow. “I won’t lie and say I’ve always wanted you.” He tells you honestly. “There was a time when you were too young for me. But now…..” he winks. “I can tell you that it’s not just innocent thoughts.”

You bite your lip at his own confession and you lean a little closer to him, “glad we are on the same page now.” You reach out to touch his hand just as the bartender comes over to ask you what you want to order. You lean back from Javier as he gestures for you to go first and you order the burger and fries. Javier orders the same and you hand the menus over. “Best fucking burgers.” He says when he takes a bite into the burger after it arrives. “Damn right.” You groan in agreement after you swallow your bite.

“So.” Javi wipes his mustache with a bar napkin and looks over at you. “If there’s one thing that you’ve never done but always wanted to, what would it be?” He asks, grinning when you lift your brows in surprise at his question.

You hum, tapping your chin after you push your empty plate away. “I want to ride a mechanical bull.” You admit, giggling at the way his brows immediately shoot up. “Seriously?” He asks and you nod, a smirk on your face. “I’ve never had the guts to get up and do it. Always figured I’d look like an idiot and fall within seconds.”

“Everyone looks like an idiot and falls within seconds.” Javi snorts. “You’ll look like everyone else.” You huff and pout slightly, making him tap his chin. “There’s a bull a town over. Hole in the wall place. We could drive over and give it a whirl.”

You grin, “let’s go, Peña.” You reach for your purse and he tuts, “my momma would whoop me for letting a lady pay. It’s our first date.” He reminds you and pulls out his wallet, throwing enough cash down to cover the bill. You thank him, unused to such gentlemanly behavior from him and his gender. You take the hand he extends you and he guides you out of the bar to his truck. “You wanna follow me or I can bring you back here?” He asks and you are hyper focused on the feel of his calloused hand in yours. “Let’s ride together.” You decide and he nods, escorting you around the truck to open the passenger door for you, helping you up.

Javi rounds the front of the truck and climbs in beside you. “It’s only about a twenty minute drive.” He promises as he turns the engine over. “We have another drink, check something off that bucket list of yours and maybe even dance a time or two.”

His truck rumbles as he pulls out of the parking lot and the radio plays a country song. You admire the way his arms flex as he navigates the road, knowing that he realizes he’s attractive but maybe not aware of how much.

“Did you always want to be an accountant?” Javi asks, glancing over at you before looking back at the road. You’re so damn pretty sitting in his passenger seat and he wonders if you will bristle at the question. “I know you’re a math whiz, but was it a goal? Or something you fell into?”

“Kinda?” You answer, “went to college for math and I wanted to work for NASA. Then - then my mom got sick after I graduated and I couldn’t go to Houston. I had an internship there and I turned it down to stay at home. Became an accountant to stay local. She’s better now, thank God, but I always wonder what could’ve been.”

“Holy shit.” He’s impressed. NASA would have been an incredible career and he wonders what kind of life you would have had if you had been able to go for that. “I understand.” He nods, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Mom having cancer while I was in college really changed things for me. Honestly? I don’t know if I would have joined the DEA or not married Lorraine if she hadn’t passed.” He still misses her everyday, not regretting taking care of her one bit, but he had wondered what would have happened if she had lived. Or even lived longer than she did.

You were there the day he left Lorraine at the altar. The whole town was there. “I’m sorry. I remember your mom. She always made me feel so warm. She was kind and always made the best empanadas. I know you were a sheriff. What made you want to join the DEA?” You ask, curious what made him sign up, “was it to get away from Lorraine? From town?”

“Partly.” Javi snorts, remembering how the family he had once been almost welcomed into, had smeared his name through the streets. “She - or her family - told everyone I was fucking her best friend. Never even looked twice at her. But there were a lot of drugs running through town when I was a sheriff's deputy. Wanted to cut it off before it got here.”

You remember the rumor and you weren’t sure if you believed it. Javier was not a womanizer when he was with Lorraine. He seemed to only have eyes for her. “Yeah. It’s still bad. Those assholes will always win. You get rid of Escobar, someone else will take his place.” You sigh, “Lorraine did railroad you down the aisle.”

Javi shrugs slightly. "I loved her, but not enough." He admits. "I had some growing up to do and I don't regret it. Not really. She wouldn't have been happy in Colombia, and I wouldn't have let her stay."

You nod in understanding, “then she dated my brother. He was her rebound and I guess he didn’t really care about his best friend being her ex.” You scoff, remembering how your brother moved in on Lorraine as soon as Javier left town. “I’m sorry he was such an asshole and didn’t respect you.”

He huffs slightly and glances back over at you with an amused look before turning his attention back to the road. "Not a great look." He tells you. "Always wondered if they were fucking around before I left." He admits, revealing something that had been rolling around in his mind for a long time, but never voiced. "Doesn't matter anymore, though. We are all different people than we were back then."

“My brother is an asshole. He lives in Dallas now with his pretty wife and two kids. I haven’t seen him for a while. When Mom was sick, he stayed away. Didn’t even come to see her.” You shake your head and lean back in your seat, “he’s always been an asshole. Used to say I was a nerd who would never have a boyfriend.” You chuckle, “guess he was kind of right.” You look up as Javier pulls into the parking lot of the bar.

“I was an asshole too.” At the time, Javi had thought it was pretty funny. He took part in the teasing thinking that it was all in good sibling fun between you and his best friend. He had been an only child and had been too immature at the time to realize the hurt that it caused you. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs as he shifts the truck into Park and looks over at you. “For everything I did back then. For the hurt I caused. I’m sorry I didn’t stop him.”

You appreciate his apology and you know it’s ridiculous to be hung up on the teasing you got as a teenager but words hurt and they have always stuck with you. You reach out to squeeze his hand, “I appreciate you saying that, Javi. Now…let’s go ride a mechanical bull.” You grin, letting go of his hand so you can unbuckle your seatbelt.

He chuckles as he follows your lead. Sensing that you want to move past that, he climbs out of the truck and comes to your door to help you out. His perusal in your outfit is both to admire you and make sure you will be safe on the bull. “Good thing you wore jeans instead of a dress this time.” He hums.

You snort, “yeah. Don’t want to be flashing my ass to everyone in the bar.” You chuckle and Javier takes your hand to escort you inside the bar after locking his truck. The bar is busy but not slammed and you walk up to the bar to take a seat. Javier gestures for you to say what you want when the bartender comes over and you order a glass of wine while he orders a whiskey. “Liquid courage.” He declares and you giggle, “maybe wine isn’t strong enough.” You hum but don’t change your order.

He smirks slightly and turns to watch the bull in the corner of the room. The floor is covered in mats around it and he leans in, his elbows braced back on the bar. “There she is.” He talks into your ear since it’s loud with conversation and music. “You nervous?”

You shiver at the way his breath fans over you and you turn your head, bringing your face closer to his, “I’m ready. Nervous, but ready.” You promise, knowing that you could look like a fool but you desperately want to try this. It has always looked fun.

“Squeeze your knees tight.” He advises you, his voice dropping slightly on instinct. “Move your hips like you’re riding a man. You’ll do just fine, sweetheart.” The bartender brings your drinks over and he leans back to grab your wine and hand it to you before he takes his whiskey.

You take a gulp of wine, stomach twisting at the way he advises you, his voice lowering. You set your glass down, “you ready Peña?” You ask and he nods, calling the bartender over to say you want to ride the bull. “Sure man. We can get it revved up.” The bartender nods, calling his coworker over to get the bull up and running.

“Now, when you fall, just tuck your body into a ball.” Javi tells you. “People hurt themselves when they try to catch themselves.”

You nod, walking over to the bull. You’re nervous and a little scared but you are excited to try this. You eye the bull, taking Javier’s hand as he helps you up onto the bull. You grip the handles, preparing yourself and you squeeze your thighs like Javier suggested. The machine whirls to life and you squeal, eyes widening as it starts to move.

The bull starts slowly, turning as the front of the machine dips down before it bucks up. Javi watches as your hand flies up, like you’ve seen Bull riders do. Your thighs clench tight around it and you make the first full turn on it. You are damn good, his brow shoots up and his cock twitches in his pants. Making him wonder if you would ride his cock like you are riding the bull, your hips swerving and rolling with the movement of the ride.

You grin, giggling as you ride the bull. It flings around but you remain on top, you rock with the motion, squealing when it swings you around again, and you rock back, feeling invincible as you conquer something on your bucket list.

The speed of the bull increases and Javi can tell you are starting to lose your seat. Knowing you are about to lose your grip on the bull’s sides, he’s still impressed. Putting two fingers in his mouth, he whistles proudly.

Loving his enthusiasm, you try to hold on for as long as you can but eventually, you fall off. You curl in on yourself like Javier recommended and you hit the mat and the bull stops. “Shit.” You hiss, stumbling a little as you stand up.

“Holy shit.” Javi rushes over and takes hold of your waist, grinning proudly. “That was great!” He tells you. “You’re lying. You have to have ridden a bull before.” He doesn’t think you actually lied, but he loves the breathless exhilaration on your face.

You shake your head, letting him guide you out of the ring. “Never. I - holy shit. I can’t believe I just did that.” You grin and your heart pounds in your chest as you lean against him. “I just did that.” You exhale breathlessly and he nods, a grin on his face. You can’t help it, you cup his cheeks and surge forward to press your lips to his.

Javi is shocked you are kissing him, but he doesn’t push you away. Letting you wrap your arm around him while your tongue slides into his mouth boldly. Groaning, he squeezes your waist and reminds himself that it’s just the adrenaline. Enjoying the fact that you are pressed up against him before you break away.

You pull back and grin at him, still riding your high, and you grab his hand, “let’s go get our drinks. I’m thirsty after that.” You guide him over to the bar again and pick up your glass of wine to have a sip. “You gonna have a ride?” You ask him, wondering if he will attempt to ride the bull.

Javi chuckles as he takes a drink of his whiskey. “Why the hell not?” He asks, pushing the empty glass towards the bartender. “It’s only been at least ten years since I’ve been on a mechanical bull.” He shrugs. “Like riding a bike, right?”

He strides over to the bull and your mouth goes dry as he swings his leg over it to straddle it. You bite your lip as you watch him adjust himself and the bull starts to move.

Javi grew up on the back of a horse and when he was younger, him and his cousins all rodeoed a little. Plus the hell raising younger years where he would come here simply to see how long he could hang on. He's older and isn’t used to it anymore, but he still hangs on and throws you a wink while the bull twists him around for the first rotation.

Your stomach twists with arousal as you watch him swivel his hips and stay on the bull. You lean against the soft barrier and take in the sight of Javier Peña riding the bull. He is sexy and you can feel yourself getting wet from the display he’s putting on.

The operator turns up the speed faster than he did with you and soon enough, Javi is flying off the bull and tucking his body like he had advised you to do. Grunting as he climbs to his feet, he smirks when you rush up to him again. “You lasted longer.” He teases. “Just like a woman.”

You snort, reaching up to brush his hair back that had fallen into his face. “You were amazing. Very sexy to watch.” You confess and he smirks, “yeah?” You nod, “amazing.” You haven’t felt this good in so long, carefree and happy.

“Do you want to try it again later on?” Javi asks, watching you grin at him. “You were really sexy riding it too.” He had a semi from watching you, even though he had no intentions of taking you to bed tonight. This was going to be different.

You love that he thought you looked sexy and you nod, “yes. I’d love that. For now, another drink?” You suggest and he smiles, taking your hand to guide you over to the bar again. You enjoy your drinks, squeal over another round on the bull, and now, your arms are wrapped around his neck as you dance to the music playing. “I really didn’t expect you’d be a dancer.” You confess, enjoying the way his fingers grip your waist.

“Too much of an asshole?” He grins at you, making fun of the unrealistic views you each had of each other. “I like dancing. It’s a good way to be close without being naked.” He hums playfully. “There were a lot of times that it was a good cover for watching sicarios. I would get a trusted asset to come with me. It wouldn’t be fair to make her sit there and just look pretty all night.”

You hum, rocking to the beat. You know about Javier's adventures in Colombia but you know he did that to find Escobar. You dance for a while longer until last orders are called. "One more or shall we head out?" He asks and you are reluctant to go home but you can't have another drink. "Let's go. I need to run errands tomorrow and I don't want to sleep in too late." He nods and pays the bill before escorting you to his truck once again. "I had a really good time tonight." You confess when he is driving back to where your car is parked.

“I did too.” Javi admits easily, probably the most relaxed he has been in a long time. You are easy to talk to now that you aren’t butting heads and Javi doesn’t just look at you like his old friend’s little sister. “Maybe we can do it again soon?” He doesn’t want to assume, you said you were extremely busy with your business at times.

“Absolutely. I’d love to do this again. I’m free on Tuesday if you want to do something?” You ask, knowing it’s crazy to like him this much already but you’ve been getting to know him online for weeks.

“I think I can make that work.” He thinks about the work he has scheduled with his dad and nods. “I’m sure we’ll talk online?” He asks. “If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds like a plan, Peña.” You hum, looking out of the window at the passing streetlights until you turn your head to look at him, admiring his profile highlighted by the dashboard and the dim light outside. When you arrive back at your car, he opens the door for you and you reach into your purse for your keys, unlocking your door and before you can open it, Javier cups your cheek, bringing your face to his. His kiss is sweet, tilting your head so he can deepen it a little and you moan softly into his mouth. He’s a good kisser. He pulls back before he goes further and you smile, “goodnight Javier. See you soon.” You slide into the car and buckle your seatbelt then turn the engine, offering him a wave before you put your car in drive and make your way home. Javier stands there for a few moments, watching your car disappear in the distance and he sighs, “holy shit.” He shakes his head and gets into his truck, heading home to his bed. Alone.

****

“You missed!” Javi pumps his fist as he crows playfully, watching you spin around and stick your tongue out at him. He wants to show you what you can do with that tongue, but he just smirks as he gets to his feet after marking out your last set. It’s the third game you’ve played tonight and both of you are almost equally bad at bowling. Making it fun as you joke and play around on the lane. “Watch a professional.” He jokes, blowing on his fingers before he picks up the red and blue swirled ball he had picked out.

You roll your eyes, “sure thing, babe.” You watch him as he makes a show of positioning his feet, rolling his shoulders, before he throws the ball down the lane. It rolls into the gutter and you smother your giggle with your hand until you mark the sheet. “Professional, huh?” You tease, walking over to grab your ball. “How about a bet?” You suggest and he nods, “sure. What’s the bet?” You smirk, “first person to get a strike…gets a kiss.” You proposition and Javier smirks, “you’re on.”

You make a show of positioning yourself to throw the ball, concentrating on the middle line, and you bowl it, holding your breath as you watch it go straight down the middle, all the pins flying as you get a strike. “Hey, that’s cheating!” Javier accuses halfheartedly and you grin, dusting off your hands as you walk over to him. “Now…my prize, Peña?”

Javi leans back in the hard plastic chairs and reaches for your waist, dragging you down into his lap. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s felt this lighthearted and it’s all because of you. You giggle and throw your arm around his neck as he pulls you closer. “Your prize,” he teases, brushing his nose against yours. “You cheater.” Before you can protest, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours.

You melt into the kiss, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. His tongue slides against your lower lip and you allow him access, moaning softly into the kiss. His hands slide along your back and you feel giddy, heart pounding as he kisses you. You pull back after several moments, pecking his lips. “What a prize.” You murmur, your lips burning from his kiss. “And for the record, I didn’t cheat. It was luck.”

He chuckles, knowing you haven’t pretended to suck at bowling for three games to suddenly become good. “I know.” He pecks your lips again and pats your hip. “Lucky ass strike. I’m not complaining at all. I reaped the benefits of it too.”

****

You watch Javier shove a handful of popcorn into his mouth and giggle, “slow down. We can get a refill, baby.” You nudge him then take a sip of the large soda. “I heard this is a good movie. I always liked Russell Crowe.” You say as the trailers start.

“It’s Gladiators, hermosa. It’s gonna be epic.” Javier says, channeling the teenage boy who would’ve loved this movie. He used to watch Westerns and Sci-Fi with his dad. They had to go to the movies to watch Star Wars at the midnight showing when it came out. You settle in beside him, leaning closer as the movie starts.

Javi throws his arm around your shoulders and watches you while he watches the movie. Wanting to make sure that you aren’t bored with the movie, but it’s soon apparent that you are just as thrilled with the action as he is. “They used to sleep together.” Javi predicts, talking about the Emperor’s sister.

Javier rubs your arm when you shiver but it’s not from the AC, it’s from him being so close. “I feel like he’s going to die.” You whisper, having a feeling that Maximus isn’t going to make it. You lean over to grab the soda, having a sip, and Javier leans in so you tilt the straw towards him so he can take a sip.

He feels like you are right, sucking down some of the soda and looking over at you and his eyes slide down to your lips. He leans in hums, "I think so too." He admits and leans back, reaching over and taking your hand when you put the soda down.

You feel like a teenager when he squeezes your hand and you watch the rest of the movie. When it’s over, Javier drives you home. His hand in yours as the radio plays and the wind is in your hair from the open windows. When he pulls up outside of your place, he cuts the engine and walks around the truck to open your door. He takes your hand and escorts you to your door. When you get there, you smile at him, “next time, I pick the movie.” You tease and he chuckles, reaching for your waist to pull you closer.

“Rom com.” Javier guesses and you chuckle, reaching up to grip his shirt, dragging him closer.

“You love them really.” You joke and he presses his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours and he backs you up against the door. You whimper into his mouth and he kisses you thoroughly. He pulls back and your lips tingle when you say “do you want to come in?” You ask and he sighs, “not tonight. I gotta get up early to help Pa with the cows.”

You nod, stomach twisting as you wonder why he hasn’t wanted to sleep with you. “Sure. I’ll see you soon.” You offer him a smile even though it’s a little tight. “Bye, cariño.” He murmurs and you turn to open your door. He stands there until you close it, waving at him until the door is shut. You sigh when you drop your purse down, confused as to why Javier hasn’t slept with you yet. You’ve been dating for 2 months, talking for 3 and you don’t understand why he hasn’t touched you when his reputation displays his willingness to fall into bed. You ponder it all night long until you come up with a plan. You’re going to invite Javier over for dinner and seduce him.

****

Another cold shower. Javi hisses as he shivers under the icy spray of water, closing his eyes and willing his erection to go down. Every day he is hard, especially when he is around you. He’s tried very hard to make sure he doesn’t rush this, he doesn’t rush you into bed. Wanting there to be a solid foundation of trust and respect between you both. He just has to wait until the time is right to move things forward. “Fuck.” He twitches despite the cold temperature and reaches down to wrap his hand around his cock. You are so fucking sexy and he is more attracted to you as the days pass. He’ll have to jerk off, he closes his eyes and thinks about you, reaching out with his other hand to turn the hot water on.

****

You check the chicken is cooked and cover it with foil just as the doorbell rings and you walk over to the door to open it after adjusting your dress. It’s tight and black and you hope he likes it. “Hey baby.” You greet him with a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Hey." His eyes widen slightly and he wonders if he had misread the situation and undressed. He's glad he stopped to get flowers and a bottle of that wine you like. "You look nice. Very nice."

“Thanks, baby.” You wink and take the flowers from his hand. “These are gorgeous. Thank you.” You carry them into the kitchen and grab a vase to put them in. “Would you mind opening the wine? Dinner is nearly ready.” You tell him and fill the vase to put the flowers in.

“Sure.” You’ve got the wine glasses out as well as a bottle opener, so Javi brings the bottle over to the table to pour out some drinks. “It smells great!” He calls out to the kitchen, listening to you hustle around. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. We could have gone out to dinner.”

You look at him over your shoulder after you put the vase down on the side. You smile at him, “I wanted to treat you. I know you and your Pa don’t cook a lot so I figured you’d enjoy a homemade meal. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus and red wine jus.” You tell him about tonight’s menu as he pours the wine out.

His brows lift in surprise at how elaborate the dinner is and he is impressed. “Are we celebrating something that I wasn’t aware of?” He asks with a slight smile, watching as you give him another one in return. It makes his heart flutter and he can’t help but think how beautiful you are. “Just a nice night together.” Your answer makes Javi hums in approval.

You work fast to put dinner together, setting it down in front of him, and you sit down in the seat beside him at your small kitchen table. “Enjoy.” You tell him and you pick up your knife and fork so you can dig in.

“It looks delicious.” Javi compliments as he looks down at the meal you’ve put in front of him. “Thank you, sweetheart.” You smile at him and again that fluttering in his heart makes him feel young and he wonders if this is that complete love his pa would always claim would one day find him and knock him on his ass.

You talk about your days while you eat. You still message online on nights you can’t see each other, complemented by phone calls, and after you finish eating, you clear the plates and grab the dessert you bought. “Still like pie?” You ask, placing a piece of apple pie and ice cream in front of him.

“You’re spoiling me.” Javi groans, watching the steam from the still hot pie rise and the ice cream start to melt over it. “I will have to plan something special for our next date.” He picks up his spoon and cuts into the pie for a large bite.

You like that he likes the dinner, making you feel special that you can look after him like this. You sit down and watch him devour the dessert. You eat your own plate and after the plates are cleared away, you find yourself on the sofa with your glasses of wine. Your radio plays in the background and you sit beside Javier, your legs tucked beneath you. “You’re so damn handsome.” You reach up to caress his cheek, “and smart. And funny. And I am so happy that we met online.”

“And you are blind.” He chuckles, leaning into your touch. “You are the one who is beautiful, kind and hilarious, you should be running from the disaster that I am. But for some reason you like spending time with me and I’m happy you do.”

“Me too. You’re not a disaster. You’re incredible.” You murmur, leaning in to press your lips to his. He tilts his head and you deepen the kiss, tangling your tongue with his. You kiss for a few moments until you break the kiss, kissing along his neck, and you shift to straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs.

Javi groans, his hands sliding up and down your thighs and he wonders what you are doing. He’s been good at not letting things go too far. “Sweetheart….” He pants, closing his eyes as he can’t believe he’s about to push you away. “Sweetheart, stop.” He murmurs.

You lean back and frown at him, “what’s wrong?” You ask, confused about why he’s pushing you away. “I don’t - not tonight.” He says and you shift off of him, “I don’t know - I’m confused. Am I - are you not attracted to me?” You question him, confused and hurt at him pushing you away.

“What?” He frowns at the question, looking at you like you are crazy. “No- no of course not. I am attracted to you.” He promises, but you shake your head, not believing him. “I am, sweetheart, I just- I’m trying to behave.” He tells you, shoving his hand through his hair and wishing you don’t look like he’s just broken up with you.

You shift to stand up, your stomach twisting, and you stare at him, “you’re trying to behave? I don’t want you to behave.” You look down at him, “I want you to fuck me. It’s been 2 months of dating. I never imagined you would go bowling, go to the movies like a teenager. I love that, don’t get me wrong, I loved all of our dates but God, Peña, I just want you to fuck me.” You exclaim, chest heaving.

Javi swallows harshly, watching you stand in front of him, practically begging him to fuck you. His mouth is dry and he rubs his hands on his thighs before he stands up. “Show me your bedroom, hermosa.” He demands. “You want me to fuck you, that’s where I’ll do it.”

His dark eyes are almost black and you see something in them that makes your stomach twist with arousal. “Baby, I want you.” You take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom, opening the door and you are nervous. Javier has had a lot of lovers. What if you don’t match up?

He’s groaning when he sees your bed and imagines spreading you out on it. You’ll look so pretty thoroughly fucked and exhausted. “I had a physical when I got back home.” Javi murmurs quietly. “And I haven’t slept with anyone, but I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on birth control and I haven’t slept with anyone for a while.” You tell him and you reach for the tie of your wrap dress. You slowly untie it and let your dress fall open to expose the lingerie you picked out in hopes that Javier would touch you tonight.

“Fuck.” He exhales roughly, cock twitching in his pants as he takes in your curves, showcased in lace. “So fucking sexy.” He starts to unbutton his shirt as he strides closer, feeling cocky and yet also nervous because you are so important to him. “What were you thinking about when you got dressed? Me fucking you? I think about that a lot.”

“I was thinking about you. Fucking me. Touching me. I think about that a lot too.” You tell him and reach out to run your hands down his chest. “You’re so gorgeous, Javi.” You murmur, caressing his skin and you slide your hands up to push the shirt from his shoulders.

Javi hums, not used to really accepting compliments. Women would flatter him, in Colombia to earn a bit more, or to get him to fuck them. You, you have nothing but honesty and desire in your eyes and it’s thrilling. “Thought about it a lot too.” He admits with a smirk. “Too many cold showers lately.”

You giggle, “no more cold showers.” You promise and slide your hands lower to unbuckle his belt. You pull it from the loops and let it drop to the floor. You unbutton his jeans, reaching in to squeeze his hard cock and you are shocked to find he doesn’t wear underwear. “Oh God.” You gasp at the girth of him and you pull him out of his underwear.

Javi groans as your fingers wrap around him, twitching in your palm and glancing down at your hand engulfing him. “Fuck.” He hisses, eyes closing when you give him an experimental pump. “You seem surprised, hermosa.” He pants. “Rarely wear underwear. Too hot.”

“I didn’t know.” You admit, “God, didn’t know you had such a gorgeous cock. No wonder every woman from Texas to Colombia wanted you.” You pump him again, shifting down into your knees as you admire his girth and you lean in to wrap your lips around him.

“Shiiiiit.” He hisses, jaw clenching as he looks down at you on your knees in front of him. He’s imagined it, but this looks ever sexier than what he had thought. “Fuck baby, you thought about sucking my cock?” He asks, cupping your cheek. “You like doing it? I want to tongue fuck you. See how you like being licked.”

You moan around his cock at his filthy words, loving the way he talks dirty and it has you soaking your panties. You take him deeper, keeping your eyes on his, and you wrap your fingers around the back of his cock, starting to pump him.

“You’re good at this. Tell me you don’t love sucking cock, you could be a pro.” He grunts, caressing the hinge of your jaw and pushing slightly deeper. “Gonna be thinking about this when I’m working. My cock down your throat while you bat your eyes at me.”

You relax your jaw, letting him push deeper, and his words have you moaning around his cock. Fuck, he’s so gorgeous standing above you. His stomach is slightly soft but you love that. You are proud that he’s enjoying this when he’s had so much experience. You choke around him as you try to take him deeper. You exhale through your nose and try again, taking him deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, don’t hurt yourself, hermosa.” Javi groans, pulling you off of him slightly as he pulls his hips back. “Are you wet? Dripping from having my cock in your mouth? Why don’t you sit on my face while you do it? Let me eat your cunt.”

You nod, dripping wet from him and the idea of him eating you out while you suck him off. Pushing his jeans down, he kicks them off and is bare before you. You stand up on shaky legs and he steadies you. You lean in to kiss him, your tongue tangling with his and he pushes your dress from your shoulders.

He has a lot of experience with undressing a woman. His hands are skilled in stripping someone down and he does it with an eagerness that is more than just hungry for sex. He wants a connection, a bond that cannot be broken even when he pulls away.

You let him reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging the straps down your arms until it drops to the floor and your tits are exposed to his hungry gaze. "Javi!" You gasp when he grabs your back, pulling you close so he can duck down and take your nipple into his mouth.

He’s always been a greedy man. Sex is addictive. It's honestly just as addictive as the cocaine he had chased down and tried to prevent people from snorting up their noses. The feeling of losing himself, pleasure both given and received lets him forget about the problems or guilt that weighed him down. Now he gets to just feel you, learn what makes you cry in pleasure.

You moan as his hands slide down to squeeze your ass while he bites and sucks on your nipple until he switches to the other. His fingers hook into your panties and he pushes them down as he kisses along the swell of your breast. “Fuck, need more.” You whine, lightly pushing him away so you can kick your panties aside, patting the bed. “Lay down, baby.”

He chuckles at how eager you are. Following your orders and laying down, giving himself plenty of room away from the headboard. Watching as you peruse his body, your own eyes just as hungry as he knows his are.

You shift to kneel on the bed, shuffling up the bed until you face away from him and straddle his chest. His hands immediately go to your hips to drag you backwards to hover over his face and you bend down to take his cock into your hand.

Javi groans as he takes in the sight of your soaked folds. They are perfect and puffy, soaking wet because of your want of him. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you back more so he can flatten his tongue against your folds.

You cry out when he slides his tongue through your folds, making you grind back onto him. “Fuck baby. That’s good.” You whimper and lean down so you can take his cock into your mouth with a moan, wanting him to feel just as good.

Javi groans happily, enjoying the tang of your juices on his tongue. Licking into your cunt eagerly and making it messy. Groaning again when your mouth wraps around his cock again.

You love how he moans into your flesh and you grip his cock, sloppily sucking his cock as you want him to enjoy this as much as you are. You love how enthusiastic he is, sucking your clit into his mouth and you moan around his cock again.

He continues to lick into you, rocking your hips back and burying his tongue deep inside your soaked walls. Twitching in your mouth and groaning when a dribble of precum is spurted into your mouth as you suck.

You moan, hollowing your cheeks around his cock as you take him deeper, rocking back on his face as he sucks on your clit a little harder. It’s so good. You moan and pull off of his cock, continuing to pump him in your hand.

Javi moans into your folds, pulling back slightly. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He grunts before he is diving back in to make you cum.

You huff but loosen your grip on his cock, not taking him back into your mouth but he ducks harder on your clit. You rest your cheek on his thigh as he slides his tongue inside of you. You pant, “God baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” You moan, so close to your orgasm as he pushes his tongue deeper.

That’s the point. He doesn’t stop, speeding up his tongue as it flicks through your walls and pulls you back more firmly on his face. Willing you to cum for him, wanting to hear you and taste you.

You rock back onto his face, unashamed of your need and lust for him, and you moan his name when you fall over the edge. Your thighs gripping his face as he works you through it. “Javi. Oh shit. Baby, I - oh God.” You ramble against his thigh.

Javi loves it. The slick of your release covering his mouth and jaw as he works you through it. Keeping ahold of your hips and your cunt firm to his mouth until you are whimpering his name as a little protest.

He pushes you over the edge and keeps pushing, making you hiss as you get overstimulated. "Javi." You whine his name again, needing him to pull back and he relents, leaning away from your cunt with a groan. You sigh, closing your eyes, "God, so good." You murmur, taking a moment to ride your high.

Javi pants, licking his lips as he strokes your ass. He knows that feeling, riding the wave. He would need a cigarette if he hadn’t been using the patches and he still hasn’t even cum. Shoving his arm under his head, he watches you shift off of him a few minutes later. His cock is throbbing but he doesn’t mind.

You shift to lay beside him, leaning in to kiss him, and he turns his head so you can slide your tongue against his. You moan into the kiss, uncaring about your tangy cum on his lips, and you slide your hand down to grip his cock, squeezing him before you pump him slowly. "You're too good, Javi. How do you want me?" You ask, wanting him to enjoy this in case you don't cum again. You've already gotten more than you would have from other lovers.

Javi groans into your mouth. “I like to kiss and be close.” He admits. “But sometimes I change positions.” He rolls onto you and slides his hand down to bring your thigh up to his hip. “Start this way and end up however we do?”

You nod, sliding your hands along his back, loving the way his muscles flex under your touch. "Sounds perfect." You murmur and he reaches between you to position his cock at your entrance. You close your eyes as he pushes inside of you, your head tilting back while you silently moan at the stretch.

He watches you closely, loving how expressive you are. How you don’t care about how you look. You care about how you feel, how he is making you feel. It looks like you are feeling good and he wants to make you always feel this way. “So pretty.” He moans quietly. “So goddamn pretty and all mine. My pretty girl.”

You slide your hands up into his hair, "yours. All yours." You promise, lifting your legs so you can wrap them around his hips. He sinks deeper inside of you and you whimper, "God, you feel so good inside of me. Move, please." You beg, "don't care if you cum too fast. You already made me cum."

Javi snorts and shakes his head. “Fuck no.” He grunts, pulling his hips back to surge forward again. “Not going to do that to you.” He hisses out, eyes rolling back when you clench down around him. His lips find your skin and he starts to kiss, everywhere he can reach as he starts to move.

His lips on your skin have you on fire, rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts, and you caress his back, loving the way he feels covering your body. You tilt your head back so he can kiss down your neck until you grab his cheeks, bringing his mouth back to yours and you moan into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his as he rocks into you.

Every thrust of his hip makes both of you pant in pleasure, breath exchanged and mingled together as the two of you move. Javi slides his arms around your body and pulls you up close, sinking deeper as he pushes into you again and again.

He drops his hips and he grinds against your clit, making you gasp in pleasure, and he smirks, focusing on that spot again. “Good girl.” He murmurs and the praise makes you push your heels into his ass to press him deeper inside of you. “Shit. Feels so good. I - never felt like this before.” You admit breathlessly, getting closer and closer.

“Good.” It’s not good that you’ve never been fucked properly, but he’s glad you are making sure that you get the attention you deserve. “You feel so good. Tight little pussy squeezing my cock.” He praises roughly. “Could spend all night right here.”

His words make you gush around him and he caresses your thigh as he rocks into you, making you moan when he hits something just right. “Yes. Yes. Javier. Fuck, right there. That - oh God!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him, and his name echoes on your bedroom walls as you cum around him for the first time.

“Fuuuuuck.” He growls, slowly thrusting into you as you fall apart on his cock. Loving how tight you get, how wet. Bracing his knees on the bed, he pulls you up until you are in his lap.

You gasp, feeling him sink deeper and press against your cervix in this position. Your hands grip his waist and you scramble to brace your feet on the bed. “God, Javi.” You cry out when he starts to rock his hips again. “Yes. Love - love this.” You choke out, tilting your head back.

He groans as he rolls his hips up, using his thighs as he works in and out of you. “Fuck, you’re-“ he chokes out, gasping your name when you squeeze him inside your walls again. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses, lunging forward and biting down on your jaw as the thrusts become sharper, snapping his hips up.

You love the way he bites as he nips and kisses down your neck until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair, tugging on it to bring his mouth back to yours. Your tongues slide against each other while he thrusts into you and you use your feet to grind down onto him. “Shit. You got me worked up. Might cum again.” You pant against his chin.

“Do it.” He huffs, his hands sliding up and down your back, gripping your ass as he grinds into you. “Cum all over me again. Wanna feel it. So good.” He babbles slightly, hoping you are enjoying this as much as you seem to be. It’s been awhile since he’s had sex but he’s holding out. Jerking off before the date had been a good idea.

You pant, rocking down onto him and it doesn’t take long but it does take you by surprise when you cum again, clamping down on his cock and soaking him for the second him. Your chest heaves as you tilt your head back, moaning his name as you experience bliss once more.

Javi takes that opportunity to kiss along your throat, licking and biting your skin as he rocks up into you, fucking you through your orgasm. Starting to move a little faster as he chases his own pleasure, while the grunts and groans get louder.

You try to rock down onto him, wanting him to cum, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging his face to yours. "Cum for me, Javi." You plead, leaning in to kiss him while he grunts into your mouth.

It doesn’t take many more thrusts, stiffening and moaning your name into your mouth, his cock pulsing deep inside you. Flooding your cunt with ropes of his sticky seed while he pants in pleasure. “Fuck.”

You smile against his chin as he relaxes beneath you, shifting you to lay you down on your pillows. You feel like you're floating as he leans in to gently nip your chin. "So fucking good." You murmur, "rumors were not wrong."

He chuckles quietly. “Glad I could live up to the hype.” He teases. “Fuck- I wish I had a cigarette.” He groans. “Nothing better than a cigarette after amazing sex.”

You sigh, caressing his cheek, "I don't have any cigarettes, baby." You murmur, "sorry." You lean in to kiss his cheek and he nods, "it's okay. I'm trying to quit." You shift to lay down and he pulls out of you, shuffling off the bed to head into your bathroom for a rag so he can clean you up.

Javi cleans up quickly and brings the rag back, damp and soapy to make sure you are wiped clean before he tosses it back into the sink. Not sure if you want him to lay with you, he stands in the doorway and looks at you laying in your bed like a warm puddle, boneless and content. It makes him smile, watching you almost glow in the aftereffects.

“Come here.” You pat the bed and he nods, slipping back into the bed with you after he pulls the comforter from under you. You curl into his chest, swinging your leg over his hip, “are you going to stay the night? I’ve been told I make great pancakes.”

“If you want me to.” Javi settles back against the pillows and holds you close, his fingers tracing the lines of your back as you cuddle close. The fan spins lazily above you and he feels completely relaxed. “I’ll do whatever you want me to.” He chuckles. “Had no other plans, except maybe logging online and talking to this girl I’ve been seeing.”

You grin against his peck, “is she nice?” You ask and Javier smirks and shrugs one shoulder, “she’s alright.” You playfully slap his chest but he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it. “I want you to stay.” You murmur, turning your head to kiss his chest.

Javi hums happily and agrees. “Then I’ll stay.” He promises. “But your pancakes better be worth it.” He teases, happy that he had found someone that it was so natural to be with, in and out of bed.

You snort, “just you wait, Peña.” You promise and snuggle into his side again, enjoying the closeness between you.

****

Javier groans as he walks into the kitchen, his jeans on and unbuttoned after he cleaned up in the bathroom. He rubs his eyes and you turn around to look at him, dressed in his shirt. “Pancakes are ready.” You declare, setting a plate down on the table for him but you grab the can of whipped cream to squirt a smiley face on the top cake for him.

He huffs in amusement as he looks down at the smiley face on his pancakes. “Did I do that good fucking you last night?” He teases as he reaches around and pats your ass. “I get the special pancakes?” The last time he had seen this was on a kids menu in some pancake diner. It’s cute and he pulls you down for a kiss.

You giggle against his lips, pecking them a few times, "you did real good, baby. Wanted to show you my appreciation. You said you've been hungrier since you quit smoking so I figured you'd want a big breakfast. Bacon and eggs are nearly done."

“I could have helped you.” He had slept longer than he meant to, intending to wake up with you this morning. However, when he opened his eyes, he was all alone in the bed. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do this. I could have taken you out.”

You shake your head, “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you up. You looked peaceful. I know you’ve been up early with your dad so you needed the sleep. I like cooking, I like taking care of you.” You confess, biting your lip as you plate up the eggs and bacon and set the plate on the table.

Javi softens and smiles at you. “I’m not complaining at all, sweetheart.” He promises. “I really appreciate it.” He gets up to grab the two mugs of coffee you have poured. “Let’s eat while your hard work is hot.” He tells you, pulling out your chair for you to sit.

You sit down, picking up your knife and fork to dig in to eat and your eyes meet Javier’s as he groans when he takes a bite of your pancakes. “Good?” You ask and he hums, swallowing his bite. “So fucking good.” You grin, proud that he likes them. You watch him eat, enjoying the product of your labor and you notice him staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?” You ask, reaching for the napkin.

“No.” Javi shakes his head and forks up another bite of eggs. “Just admiring how pretty you are without makeup on.” He admits. “You are pretty with it, but I think you’re even more beautiful without it.”

You fluster, cheeks warming at his compliment. Something soft that you never really expected from Javier Peña, especially the one you knew from childhood. “Thank you. I like the five o clock shadow on you.” You gesture to his unshaved face.

“Yeah.” He rubs his face with his hand, feeling the raspiness of the hair growing in. “Can’t grow a beard for shit though.” He snorts. “Comes in all patchy.”

You lean closer, resting your elbow on the table, “sexy no matter what.” You promise and he offers you a bashful smile, making your heart flutter.

****

You wrap your arms around his neck, swaying to the music. Javier decided to take you to the fair that’s happening a town over and you are currently on the makeshift dance floor, swaying to the music played by the teenage band.

“Are you having a good time?” Javi asks, pulling you a little closer and leaning his cheek against yours as the band plays. Tonight has been wonderful, but he can’t remember a time that he’s not had a good time around you. You’ve played some games and ridden some rides, had plenty of fair food, and now he gets to hold you close.

"Always with you, baby." You promise, breathing him in. He's become your home, your person to vent to, to cry with, to laugh with. You've never experienced anything like this.

He leans back to look at you and you lean forward to nudge your nose against him. "I love you." He blurts out and you pull back in surprise. Neither of you have mentioned your feelings yet but you are shocked that he was the first one to say anything. He looks surprised with himself then he gets nervous and you cup his cheek, "I love you too." You declare, leaning forward to brush your lips with his.

Javi smiles against your lips, his fingers digging into your waist as he deepens the kiss. He is home, in mind, body and spirit. Healing every day while sharing himself with you. Your accounts are both canceled, no need to chat online, now that you have each other.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña imagine #javier peña narcos

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kikyoupdates · 2 months ago

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Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟷

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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“...you can do what now?”

“Hire someone to date you,” your friend, Ava, repeats. She chuckles and waves you off dismissively. “Come on, [Name]. It’s the modern age. People are always coming up with new things these days. I’m willing to bet there’s an app or website out there for practically anything.”

You blink in disbelief. Granted, there is all kinds of crazy shit going on in the world, and you’ve heard of companionship services before—like escorts or sugar baby arrangements—but to hear that something like this is trending nowadays is still undeniably a shock.

“Here, look,” Ava gestures, pulling out her phone. “I was curious, so I downloaded the app the other day just to check out.”

“Uh, don’t you already have a boyfriend?”

“He knows I was just browsing. I showed him too, and we scrolled through some stuff together. A lot of the profiles on here are wild,” she laughs. “It’s crazy what people advertise they’re willing to do. Get a load of this guy. He says he’s down to meet your family and make a total ass out of himself just so that he lowers your parents’ standards and the next real boyfriend you get will look way better by comparison.”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. “I can’t tell if this is actually real, or just some new meme template.”

“Of course it’s real! I think you’re underestimating how lonely people these days are. There’s definitely a lot of money to be made in this industry. Just look at how much people are willing to blow on their favorite streamer, even though they’ve never met them a day in their life. Dating’s gotten a lot more complicated lately, so I guess some people just want to skip past the troublesome parts and experience what it’s like to be with someone.”

You furrow your brows. The whole thing sounds incredibly sad when you think of it that way. People would rather pay for a fabricated relationship than put in the time and effort towards building something real? Loneliness is starting to sound like an actual epidemic nowadays.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t judge people without understanding where they’re coming from,” you acknowledge. “It’s not like I know what they’ve been through. Times are changing and all. It sounds like this is actually starting to become pretty mainstream.”

Ava nods chipperly. “Yep! I mean, I love my boyfriend, so I’m definitely not the target audience, but maybe it’s what some people need to gain a little boost of confidence and get back into the dating scene. I doubt everyone uses it in a romantic sense too. There are people out there that just want a bit of company every now and then. Isn��t it nice that they have someone to spend time with this way?”

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.”

Honestly, you’re still struggling to fully wrap your head around this. You understand the premise well enough, but you can’t really get past the part about accepting payment just to provide someone with a fabricated experience. Then again, you suppose that’s the case for most things nowadays. People are willing to spend the brunt of their earnings on in-game purchases for video games and other things that aren’t tangible in the real world, because even though they aren’t necessarily organic, it still provides them with some satisfaction.

Long story short, it’s not up to you to decide what does or doesn’t make someone else happy, and you suppose as long as it’s executed in a professional manner, there’s nothing wrong with meeting new people this way.

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” Ava suddenly perks up. “You should join this app! You’re super pretty, smart, and nice. I bet you’d have loads of guys lining up to hire you as their girlfriend!”

“Me?” You blink repeatedly, shuffling backwards the closer she leans in. “I mean, I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job. If it makes people happy, then I support it, but deep down, I worry I’d feel like I’m exploiting someone’s feelings just for a few extra bucks. Morally speaking, I’m not so sure I like the idea…”

“It’s not exploitation,” she insists. “People know what they’re signing up for. At the end of the day, it’s a buyer-seller relationship. Someone pays for the service being advertised, and they receive it. As long as you’re not ambiguous about what you’re willing to do for the amount that you’re charging, people know what to expect. Of course, I’m sure there might be the occasional asshole here and there, but if they do anything inappropriate or violate the terms, you can report them through the app and they’ll be banned from using it.”

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. Some extra money would be nice. You’re a university student with all sorts of loans, so it’s not like you’ve got excess cash lying around. And it’s also true that you’ve been looking to apply for a new job lately, since your old manager was a total ass and you ended up quitting.

Still. A girlfriend-for-hire? Someone like you? It’s just really difficult to imagine.

“I actually think it’d be a good experience,” Ava goes on. “You’ve never really put yourself out there before. I know everyone dates at their own pace and stuff, but you shouldn’t have to be afraid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some cool people and want to date them for real. And even if you don’t end up going for them, you still make some money, so either way, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

You chuckle weakly. “Yeah, I just don’t know. I feel like I’m better suited for traditional jobs. But thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m glad you think people would actually be willing to pay to date me.”

“Girl, you seriously need to believe in yourself more,” Ava sighs. “I’m telling you, you’re a catch. But at the end of the day, it’s your call. You shouldn’t force yourself into anything if you feel uncomfortable.”

You smile and nod in agreement, and sensing your discomfort, Ava decides to change the topic.

But for some reason, you feel a twinge in your chest, and it’s hard to keep your mind from wandering.

Later that same day, you’re lounging on the couch, mouth agape, having just downloaded the app on your own phone.

“What the hell am I doing…?”

You tell yourself that it’s just simple curiosity. Yeah. That’s all it is. Ava piqued your interest earlier, and now you just want to scroll through in more detail to get a better sense of what kind of people use this platform.

The app is called ‘Partner For Hire’. The name isn’t particularly inspired, you have to admit, but you suppose it communicates its point rather effectively and leaves no room for ambiguity. Ultimately, this is a transactional relationship, and it’s probably for the best that clients know what to expect.

You can use the app as either a buyer or seller. Meaning that you can create your profile and advertise your services, or simply list yourself as a prospective client and what your hobbies and interests are. In that sense, it’s kind of similar to most dating apps, since you have to take a flattering photo to go along with whatever blurb you’re providing. Of course, just because you try to solicit someone’s services doesn’t mean there’s any guarantee they’ll accept. This is an app where you can run everything yourself, and of course the company takes a cut of your profits, rather than an agency that matches you with a client regardless of whether you want to accept the job or not.

There’s definitely a lot of flexibility, and you can easily choose who you want to pretend to date. If someone is interested in hiring you, they submit a request to be able to contact you, and once you accept, you can message them directly and establish the terms of the dating contract, such as the length and what particular services will be provided.

You scroll through the list of boyfriends/girlfriends being advertised on the app, and honestly, it seems like there’s a decent amount of money to be made. Of course, a lot of that comes with building a good reputation and improving your ratings and visibility so more people will want to hire you, but it actually seems like a decent amount of people are able to make a living off this sort of thing.

You bite down on your lower lip. Should you really go ahead and just do it? Like Ava said, there’s probably not much to lose. All the transactions are managed on the app, so you can easily report people who try to skip out on paying. Clients have to link their banking and personal info, so they’d be taking on a big risk by trying to scam people. You’re sure it might happen from time to time, but based on the reviews you’ve read, the company is really good at enforcing their policies and making sure everyone gets paid.

The money seems good, and it would definitely help take some pressure off your student loans, but ultimately, the biggest thing you’re struggling with is your moral compass.

People are willing to spend money for this kind of thing, and that’s entirely their choice to make, so it’s not like you’re extorting them or anything. Still… you wonder if it’s actually okay to profit off of someone else’s loneliness. You’ve never worked the kind of job that requires you to cater directly to another person’s emotions, and it kind of freaks you out.

But maybe Ava is right. There are all sorts of people in this world. Maybe some of them are just curious to try the app out. Maybe others just want to get their families off their back by pretending like they’re dating someone for a little while. There’s no way to discern everyone’s motivations, so perhaps there’s really no point in thinking about it at all.

Most importantly, this could be a good thing for you. Life has been stagnant recently, and it’s true that you usually hesitate to put yourself out there. You’ll never learn what you do or don’t like if you keep on avoiding everything. This could be a chance to learn a lot about other people, but also, to learn more about yourself.

Yeah. It’s time to stop overthinking for a change and just try something new.

Thus, feeling unusually determined, you spend the rest of the day setting up your profile (finding nice selfies was the longest part of the whole ordeal), and with a resolved huff, you post it and officially go live on the app.

You’re not really sure what you were expecting, but needless to say, there isn’t any immediate feedback. It probably takes a while for people to stumble across your profile, and even then, there’s no guarantee they’ll want to go out with you.

I guess I was getting worked up for no reason. Certain people might find success with this kind of thing, but it’s probably not as easy as it looks.

You scratch your cheek, suddenly sheepish over how needlessly excited you got earlier. You’re not used to stepping out of your comfort zone, so you must have gotten a bit carried away.

For the rest of the evening, you set your phone aside and come back to reality. You get some homework done, make dinner, and by the time you’re ready for bed, you’ve pretty much forgotten about the whole thing altogether.

That is, until you check and see that you’ve missed a notification.

“Huh? Someone viewed my profile and wants to message me?”

You’re undeniably taken aback. Not just because it’s happening a lot sooner than you expected, but also because it means that contrary to what you first thought, people are interested in you.

Having minimal experience when it comes to dating and romance in general, you have to admit, the thought of being viewed as desirable is immensely flattering.

Curious to see who wants to hire your services, you click on the user’s profile.

His name is Isaac, and he’s twenty-one years old, set to complete his undergraduate studies at the end of the year. He goes to a different university than yours, thankfully, because you can’t help but feel like it would be incredibly awkward to bump into him on campus after pretending to be his girlfriend. He’s studying to become a doctor, which means he’s still got a lot of school ahead of him, but you’ve always had a lot of admiration for people who are willing to commit to their goals and work hard.

Also, even though you don’t want to sound shallow or anything… he’s really, really attractive.

You frown. Granted, there’s more to a person than their appearance, but based on how he comes across in his profile and what his future career is, he doesn’t strike you as the type of person who would struggle to date someone.

But again, you can never know what’s going on in a stranger’s life. And there’s no real way to find out why he decided to join the app.

Apart from speaking to him directly, of course.

[𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

After a momentary delay, the screen loads into a messaging interface, allowing you to see what Isaac sent you and respond to him directly.

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times.

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling.

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now.

[𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]:

You’re admittedly a bit nervous, especially since you want to do a good job and avoid letting him down, but mostly, you’re feeling excited. All of this is uncharted territory for you, after all. Never in a million years would you have imagined taking on a job like this.

And you really shouldn’t have.

You don’t know it yet, but this will be the cause of many, many regrets.

Shit. I’m starting to have second thoughts.

Even now, you still can’t believe you’re really going through with this. After talking to Isaac and ironing out the finer details, you agreed to join him for a family gathering and pose as his girlfriend. You expected for him to have quite a few requests, but luckily, he seems pretty laid back about the whole thing. The better portion of your conversation was spent on getting your stories straight so as not to incur any suspicion, and since you’ve always been a good student and a hard worker, you promptly memorized everything there was to know.

And now, it’s finally time to put this plan in motion.

“Hey,” Isaac greets. “[Name], right?”

It’s the evening, since his parents are hosting a dinner party. The event is supposed to be pretty casual, but you still dressed up semi-formal in the hopes of making a good impression. He never explicitly mentioned how strict his parents are, but since they’ve been on his case about getting a girlfriend, it never hurts to go the extra mile.

"Hi, Isaac,” you smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” he nods. He’s considerably taller than you, and every bit as handsome as his picture suggested. Unless his personality is god-awful (which you probably would’ve picked up on after messaging him for so long), you’ve got a good feeling that most girls would be interested in him.

Still, everyone is different. He might have really high standards, or maybe he wants to focus on his studies, or perhaps it’s just a case of having never met the right person. Whatever the reason may be, his parents shouldn’t be pressuring him to date someone, and if you have the means to help him out, you’ll happily do it.

“You look really nice,” Isaac says. He tilts his head to the side. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to dress up to impress anyone. The most important part is that they believe I’m seeing someone so that they finally ease up a bit.”

“Oh, I just did this for my own peace of mind,” you reassure. “I made sure to memorize everything you told me in advance, so I’m confident I can convince them that we’re the real deal. Even though this is technically my first day on the job… I promise not to let you down.”

You blush, feeling rather flustered. The idea of being someone’s hired girlfriend is still a lot to wrap your head around, and you certainly don’t want to make empty promises, but you have every intention of giving it your best shot. Isaac is in a stressful situation, and you’re resolved to do whatever you can to fix it.

“Can’t wait to get this over with,” Isaac sighs. He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to step inside the car. “Don’t worry. I know you might be feeling a bit uneasy, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything like that. I won’t hold it against you if you have 911 ready on speed dial until we get to my parents’ house.”

“I trust you,” you insist. “I’ve heard good things about this app, and it sounds like they take safety seriously. They’ve got your information in their system, after all. Plus, I can tell that you’re a nice guy. It’s just a gut feeling.”

“I appreciate it,” he smiles. “Anyways… I guess I’ve stalled for long enough. You can probably tell that I really don’t feel like going. But the sooner I get them off my back, the better.”

“I’ll be the best girlfriend you can ask for,” you beam.

It’s a promise to him, but also to yourself. You are committed to taking this new job seriously, and for the rest of the evening, you will do whatever it takes to blend into the role that’s been thrust upon you. There’s no reason to get worked up. At the end of the day, all of this is pretend. It won’t be anywhere near as complicated as a real relationship.

Right?

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headspace-hotel · 6 months ago

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I hate a lot of trends in climate-change-aware nature writing, but this is one I particularly detest: works insisting that we live in a "post-natural" world.

The lostness, bewilderment, aching, and searching in this piece is understood by the author to be an all-consuming and universal dysphoria, when it is actually a highly specific predicament that the author put himself into: He tried to understand the universe exclusively through the point of view of white people.

I mean that Purdy takes the colonizer point of view without realizing that it is a colonizer point of view. He thinks the colonizer point of view is a universal document of the authentic, naive encounter of "humanity" with "nature," instead of burning wreckage left over from the apocalyptic destruction of a rainbow of ideas and cultures.

It feels weird to be talking about this as a white person, but it shouldn't, any more than it should feel weird to say (as a white person) that aliens didn't build the pyramids.

Very little of what he's writing about would exist or make sense without European colonization of the world. Purdy constantly says "we" and "our" in reference to things that are very restricted to a particular cultural point of view, as if totally oblivious to the idea that other cultures and other perspectives even exist. When he searches for historical references to chart "human" relationship with nature, history goes like this: Pre-Christian religion in the British Isles->British monarchy-> George Washington-> Industrial Revolution->Thoreau.

He manages to repeatedly stumble over giant hunks of colonialism embedded in every concept he's thinking about, like boulders obstructing a pathway, and pretends so hard that they don't exist that his points are janky and meandering. For example, his discussion of Helen Macdonald's book H for Hawk, touching upon human identification with the landscape and with non-human "nature," blunders into this:

Those who love (certain parts of) nature are often making a point of preferring it to (certain kinds of) human beings. The problem is not only literary. Macdonald describes an encounter with a retired couple who join her in admiring a valley full of deer, then remark how good it is to see “a real bit of Old England still left, despite all these immigrants coming in.” She does not reply, but is miserable afterward. The meaning of landscapes is always��someone’s meaning in particular. Confronted with all of this, Macdonald tries to shake off the complicities of her own identification with the terrain: “I wish that we would not fight for landscapes that remind us of who we think we are. I wish we would fight, instead, for landscapes buzzing and glowing with life in all its variousness.” The alternative that Macdonald wishes for is, of course, not an escape from political-cultural projection onto landscape, but another approach to that same practice — really, the only one a 21st-century cosmopolitan is likely to feel comfortable embracing.

AND THEN HE JUST SEGUES INTO THE NEXT POINT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. Like don't worry about it :) We will simply project onto landscapes in a non-racist way :) because we aren't racist anymore in the 21st century :)

The next book he discusses is Landmarks by Robert MacFarlane, which is basically about how the vocabulary of landscape in English is sterilized and monoculturized, and contrasts that with Scots Gaelic. This is how Purdy explains the thesis of the book:

Our sense of what lies outside ourselves has been blunted by “capital, apathy, and urbanization” — enemies likely to draw a range of friends, from cultural Marxists to Little Englanders to those who would like to see a bit more effort, please. But behind this scholarly sketch, Macfarlane’s work is testament to a pretheoretical obsession with unfamiliar ways of encountering places. We disenchanted and distracted (post)moderns describe terrain, he complains, in terms of “large, generic units” such as “field,” “hill,” “valley,” and “wood." (...) Many people who have lived intimately with landscapes have had words for nuances of form, texture, and use. Macfarlane’s purpose in Landmarksis to gather these words as proof of how precisely it is possible to name a place, and so, perforce, to know it.

Why is Gaelic endangered? Because of an effort to extinguish its speakers' culture. This article I found on it talks about the history of the language's decline, and it's strikingly similar to what happened to indigenous people in the Americas and Australia, with children being put in schools where they were beaten with sticks for speaking their native language.

This whole essay is about Purdy's general disappointment with nature writing, his craving for an ineffable Something, some sort of magical, primitive identification with the natural world. In the very first paragraph he claims that the pictures of animals on nursery walls are "totemic" and quotes a guy saying that zoos are an "epitaph" to the relationship between people and animals. It's never very clear what he means, but he uses the term "animism" repeatedly, such as when he says this about MacFarlane's goal in writing Landmarks:

His quarry is an animistic sense that Barry Lopez once identified in “the moment when the thing — the hill, the tarn . . . ceases to be a thing, and becomes something that knows we are there."

Given that ambition, Landmarks, which Macfarlane calls a “counter-desecration phrasebook,” can be disappointingly thin as a lexicon. Too many of the terms are simply dialect or Gaelic for some generic form, such as “slope,” “hilltop,” “stream,” or “tuft of grass.” The effect is less pointing out how many things there are to see than cataloguing how many names there are for the same thing.

This is Purdy missing the point, perfectly crystallized as though frozen in amber. He is oblivious to the clear subtext of a language showing a culture's connection to its home, and of the violence against that culture. The Gaelic language doesn't make him feel primal and mystical the way he wants it to, therefore it doesn't mean anything to him. MacFarlane doesn't make him feel a magic animistic connection to nature, therefore his book must have failed at its task.

Who gives a shit? Gaelic isn't FOR you.

He discusses another book about a guy that hikes a bunch of Cherokee trails, but I don't know what to say about that one, observing it through the sludge of the reviewer's unwillingness to recognize that historical context exists. He summarizes his disappointment in a confusing way, using the Gaelic language as a symbol for an obscure and inaccessible place where the answer to your personal emotional cravings lives (???) Then he talks about a kind of epistemicide, or extinction of knowing, of nature, but again, totally oblivious to any relationship to colonization.

Every inhabited continent has been denuded of ecosystems and species. Most North American places have shed wolves, elk, moose, brown bears, panthers, bison, and a variety of fish and wild plants, which were all abundant four hundred years ago.

Wow, I wonder what happened four hundred years ago?

This writing acts like the dominant Eurocentric attitude towards the world is universal, but the author is haunted by this nameless specter of the possibility of a different way of thinking, which he treats as some kind of mystical, primordial state hidden in the past instead of just a different cultural perspective.

Not only does he not recognize that his own cultural perspective of Nature is dysfunctional and unsatisfying because it was created by exploitation and genocide of other cultures and their symbiotic relationships, he acts like other perspectives don't exist. Take his perspective on forests and the mycorrhizal network:

Wohlleben’s emphasis on interdependence and mutual aid is part of a recent tendency to recast nature in an egalitarian fashion — as cooperative, nonindividualist, and, often enough, hybrid and queer, in contrast to the oaks of generals and kings. Nature does answer faithfully to the imaginative imperatives and limitations of its observers, so it was inevitable that after centuries of viewing forests as kingdoms, then as factories (and, along the way, as cathedrals for Romantic sentiment), the 21st century would discover a networked information system under the leaves and humus, what Wohlleben calls, with an impressive lack of embarrassment, a “wood wide web.”

Listen, I don't think this is accurate to how Europeans thought of forests throughout time, let alone "humanity" in general. The emphasis of power and competition in ecosystems emerged after Darwin, in collusion with capitalism and "race science." Trees have been symbols of life, wisdom and selflessness, and regarded as sacred or even sentient, for centuries before that. But on top of that, this is just blatantly pretending that only white people's ideas count as ideas.

It's the same dreck as all the other "literary" writing about climate change: self-pityingly and unproductively mourning "Nature" and a fantasized "wild" state of the Earth, ignoring colonialism, treating human influence of any kind on other life forms as something that either destroys them or makes them soft and "tame."

I'm tired of reading nature writing from people that obviously do not go outside, or if they do, they do it in such a suffocatingly regimented, goal-oriented way that they can't just sit outside and relax.

Maybe I shouldn't be such a hater if I want to do nature writing. But my love of nature is WHY I am a hater.

#nature #ecosystem #climate change #the ways of the plants #goes under #doomerism

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hai7ani · 11 days ago

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a final piece to tachibana / link to previous

Haitani Rindou, Me and My Husband

Haitani Rindou is 28, an ex-felon, and he has no idea what the other guys his age do, other than stare at a wall and wank all day like the idiot from his cell does. He's tried so hard fantasising, and yet he still can't imagine a life of actually having consistent daily, weekly routines. When he's out and he witnesses the rush of modern day Tokyo where everyone's constantly in a hurry to get to somewhere, he can't help but question just where in the world are they going, and what in the hell are they rushing to do. Work? Are they that devoted to their job? Meeting a friend? Are they really that important?

He's spent the last 8 years of his life stirring soup and boiling rice in a kitchen that earns him about ¥500 per month, sweep fallen leaves during autumn while witnessing fights break out between inmates at the yard, and work out in the mini gym of a prison.

Now that he's out and he's staying with you at your place out of your own wallet where you've also bought him a phone with a functioning sim card, some warmer clothes to wear and laze around in, and pay for all the things in the house despite him having a job as well that pays more than what he's used to earn, he feels awfully bad. He stares at the digits in his bank account as he rubs at his nape.

For the first time in his life, Haitani Rindou has no clue what to do with himself.

You work a nice paying job in corporate 一 a result of your endless hard work, a desperate yet successful attempt to break free from your past 一 and at night he refills the vending machines that you and your co-workers empty during the day.

He's aware that the current gap between the two of you is big 一 it's extreme. He hates that he isn't able to provide more for the two of you at home other than doing simple laundry or sweeping the floor while you're away at work. He knows how to cook a little (simple recipes that the inmates eat daily, but he knows you won't like the food, because you weren't an inmate), but not full-on meals that you usually make and leave in the warmer for him when he finally gets home to eat.

He thinks about who he was before his time in prison and he doesn't recognise that boy anymore. An extremely outgoing party boy who rebels, fights and drifts when the sun is down, and an ex-felon who works about 4 hours per night refilling vending machines that people like his past-self vandalise and abuse just for the fun of it 一 those are 2 different people living 2 different lives, from 2 different universes.

Tonight, when the moon is up and he's got you in his arms 一 all warm and tucked in while you snore in his ear 一 he thinks about just what can he do for you to make you happier. He's aware he won't be able to provide much financially 一 not right now at least, and he's not a great communicator as well. He isn't confident he can always get his point across without having it sound like he means an entirely different thing. He has spent more time away from you than with you, after all.

And he hates to say it because he thinks he's in no position to do so, but the two of you are a bit complicated. You're childhood sweethearts who come from the same hometown and grew up together, he's the one who committed a crime, got sent in, and you were left yearning for him on the outside. He's the one who's made love to you before, and it is also his fault that the two of you are like this right now. You're kissy and touchy, he sleeps shirtless and you sleep in just panties, but you don't have a label to your relationship. He doesn't see you as a friend 一 he sees you as his world, but if he were to introduce you to another person, does he call you his friend?

He doesn't know how to make it better, but you always seem to make it feel like everything's alright when you'd knock on the bathroom door and offer to help him shave or give his hair a trim. He thinks the two of you are doing fine, but then his mind shifts to the therapist note you'd obviously accidentally left sitting on the dining table one morning and his heart aches.

You haven't been doing well lately. Recently. Frequently. For many, many years, you haven't been okay. He wonders if you have always smiled this often around other people 一 when he was still in prison, or before you were able to see each other again after years of lost contact 一 because you're always grinning ear to ear when you'd cling onto him in bed or straddle him on the couch while plucking his eyebrows as he hisses in pain.

But when you shift a little in bed and snuggle your nose deeper into his neck and sigh, the tightening in his chest softens a little. Your alarm's going to ring in about 5 minutes and he switches it off before it can. He spends the rest of your time rubbing your back, waking you up gently as he gives you some time to adjust to opening your eyes. He hates that you always seem to jolt awake when the alarm rings, as if it scares you a lot. It's almost the same reaction he's seen in you when you were younger and would hide against a raised fist. He doesn't want you to feel like that anymore. He went away for this exact reason and all he wants to do is to hide you away from fear.

And as you stare up at him, eyes half-lidded and cloudy, it's as if the colour of your irises are hypnotising him with words 一 whispering it in his ear as they ask, "do you still not see it?"

He does. He sees it now.

All the doubts and worries in his head swiftly vanishes and it all makes sense now 一 why you still choose to be with him despite everything that's happened to your lives, why you still seem to care so much for him.

The love in your eyes evident, as you smile softly while the sun slowly rises above the horizon, and he settles.

You love him just as much as he loves you.

All you've ever needed was him. Just him. Your Rindou.

He's got nothing else to worry about now 一 he's got the world in his arms. Even if it'll take him years to adjust to his new life, he'll be doing it with you.

Perhaps today he'll take the time to bake you your all-time favourite chocolate chip muffins 一 he'll run to the store to get the ingredients and maybe pass by the jeweller, browsing.

He wonders if the numbers in his bank account would be enough to buy him a ring, but he'll have to get the size of your finger first, right?

tachibana's tldr (TW!): you and rin were childhood friends, you were abused growing up, rindou killed your abuser and went to jail for it but you never found out until ran told you so you think he's been mia all this while when he's actually in jail

tachibana is officially discontinued, but i didn't want to leave it hanging because i cherish the story a lot (it just wasn't well-planned), so here's a final piece to wrap up the story 🤍

#writing #all you've ever needed was just him 一 the missing piece of your heart #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #bonten x reader #bonten

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what-even-is-thiss · 3 months ago

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I think a lot of people get a bit intimidated by public transit and using it is a bit of a skill but the thing is that it doesn’t take that long to get good at it and once you figure out how to use one transit system those skills can transfer to most other transit systems in the world. Using a semi-decent transit system in a strange city isn’t any more complicated than driving in a new city. If anything I’d argue that it’s easier especially with modern phone gps and local transit apps. Because you’re not the one figuring out how that one weird intersection is. The train or bus bypasses that problem for you.

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sporesgalaxy · 6 months ago

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Pacific Rim isn't anti-nuclear in the same way Kaiju movies usually are. The resolution is facilitated by the detonation of a nuclear warhead and a nuclear reactor power core. So........what's up with that?

I mean, it's deeply American, obviously, but what else? Why does it not feel particularly pro-war in the same way, say, a typical MCU does? What does it mean that the Kaiju are prompted by human activity (carbon pollution "practically terraformed" Earth for the invading aliens), but are ultimately not a true manifestation of Nature's Wrath (not even from Earth)?

What arguments is Pacific Rim making in the place of the typical kaiju movie anti-nuclear-pollution, wrath-of-nature fare?

I stream-of-consciousness rambled about this for multiple paragraphs and don't feel like cleaning it up much. Basically: I think Pacific Rim is a commentary on the myriad problems with political responses to climate change over the years.

•••

So, in the Great American Kaiju Movie, two nuclear blasts save the day rather than creating all the problems. Despite the fact that at least one of those nuclear blasts still probably did a lot of collateral.... I do wish Pacific Rim had focused a bit more on collateral, and the environmental damage caused by both the Kaiju and, inevitably, the Jaeger project AND Wall of Peace. Food rations are mentioned once-- but surely metal and construction equiptment rationing must also be in place to allow for wall construction! I want my environmental messages shoved violently down the audience's throat, damnit! But I digress

I think an important detail to consider in the Kaiju/Nuclear discussion is how Mako and Raleigh's Jaeger's nuclear power generator is what really allowed them to save the world, multiple times.

The history of politics around nuclear power plants vs nuclear warhead production is interesting, especially in the typical kaiju movie thematic context of man carelessly abusing nature. The argument in defense of nuclear power plants is that, despite the need for extremely rigerous and long-term nuclear waste disposal considerations, there is a lower volume of waste created by nuclear power plants in relation to the energy provided by them, when compared to other modern methods of energy generation like coal power. So, in theory, nuclear energy could be a beneficial power source for minimizing environmental impact.

In the Kaiju movies I've seen, nuclear power is only ever addressed as an extension of the inherently unnatural and harmful abomination of the invention of.the nuclear warhead. It's understandable, the environmental devastation caused by radioactive pollution is massive, and its something a nuclear power plant is very capable of doing if enough goes wrong.

So, what do the Jaegers represent within this conversation? what does the Wall of Peace represent? Here's my thought: they represent (more) active versus passive solutions to the growing threat of climate change. Jaegers represent the way that active work against climate change is only funded as far as it is beneficial to the image of the government.

Yes, the Rift was found to be impossible to blow up with nukes, but it's pretty clear that the world governmemts were putting more money into the publically popular and flashy Jaeger program than they were putting into researching the increase in Kaiju frequency and a permanent solution to the issue. Because of the complicity the world fell into once Kaiju and Jaegers were Rock Stars, the root of the issue with Kaiju goes unadressed for an entire generation, in favor of defeating each Kaiju in impressive and propogand-izable ways.

Only once the problem becomes too big for the propoganda-friendly Jaegers to manage do the world governments start looking for alternate solutions, and the Wall is immediately shown to be too little too late. As soon as it stops being useful for propoganda, the government loses interest in truly solving the problem, and begins investing in moving itself inland and leaving poor coastal populations to die.

The kaiju are only able to be defeated in Pacific Rim because a group of people separate from the government comes together and searches for a solution to the root of the issue-- the Rift being open in the Pacific at all.

Nuclear power is therefore not posed as a solution to war against fellow humans, but is used as a solution to a collective human effort to fight the exponentially speeding destruction of the Earth. The Jaeger pilots and everyone else working in the resistance HAVE to be willing to do anything, willing to take drastic active measures, in order to stop the destruction of the Earth's climate. Yay :)

#syd writes an essay #adddna

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olderthannetfic · 1 month ago

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There is something confusing to me about older queer people (which is to say, older than I am, at a relatively young 24 years old) who get mad at original fiction whose worldbuilding involves neopronouns. I'm hoping maybe, ONTF, since you've been in queer spaces a lot longer than I have, you can explain why people have such a negative reaction to the idea.

Basically, I'm working on a novel based that takes white-throated sparrow biology and uses it for building blocks in the same way A/B/O takes (now debunked) wolf science and used it for building blocks. This means there are essentially four genders, the two viewed as more intelligent (brown-haired men and women) and the two viewed as more physical (white-haired men and women). Those two groups then get further divided along the lines of 'women are better at making smart decisions under pressure' and 'men are better at staying home and defending the children, as God intended'.

So it seemed natural to me that this worldwide quaternary system would result in at least some languages having pronoun sets for each of the four options. Some languages in real life have more complicated pronoun systems than that, particularly ones where there's a bunch of formal and informal pronouns. It'd also help the reader keep track of who was a part of what group without my having to turn around and state people's coloration constantly. Yes, these people are human, just as humans in A/B/O are, but society is fundamentally very different. I'm not throwing this in to just complicate things or sound smart or something. It's here because my minoring in Anthropology and majoring in Linguistics taught me language usage reflects the needs and values of a people.

The writing group I'm a part of IRL is mostly queer, mostly 40+, with some cishet women who are also present and active writers. The writing group I'm a part of on DW is mostly DWRPers, in their 30's and up, though no older than 50, and entirely queer. I did not expect these to be groups that were uncomfortable with the idea of "different world, different pronouns".

Instead the reception has ranged from suggestions it's pretentious or overthinking things to requests I reconsider doing it. I've been informed this could be seen as mocking the real life queer people who go by pronouns other than she, he, or they. One person asked if this was went to be me "artificially justifying" nonbinary pronouns and implying I didn't find them valid in the real world. That was an awkward conversation, to say the least.

In reality I wasn't really thinking about real life people who use nonbinary pronouns when I was writing. I was just asking, "Logically, wouldn't it make sense for things to work very differently under a quarternary than it does under a modern European binary?" and following my brain along to its' conclusions as it processed that.

I have gotten zero negative feedback from my queer friends my age regarding this. So obviously, generation and the experiences informing a generational context are key, here. I'm just... still lost on how anyone finds this objectionable.

Help?

Ahaha. Oh god.

Well, as a reader of sff in the 90s, the first reaction I have to such things is "IS THERE A CONLANG AND A MAP?" Because, man, the conlang people were some of the most tedious motherfuckers I ever had to deal with in sff spaces.

But broadly... I think the reasons queer people get annoyed about this stuff boil down to a couple of big factors:

Disrespectful children who don't know history

Idiot old people harrumphing about "history" they clearly failed to pay attention to while it was going on in the first place

I personally hate being asked to use new words most of the time. A few bits of fandom slang I'll pick up at once, but I'm usually like "Why would I call it 'spirk'? We already have 'K/S'!" *shakes cane*

If you're American, they're your "roommate", not your "flatmate". No, I don't care how much more precise this foreign term is, you pretentious wanker. (But then I'll use 'wanker' because fandom adopted that years ago...)

So my reaction to being asked to say aloud any pronoun not in very frequent circulation in my offline life is "Urrrgh. Do I have to?"

However, the reality is that people have been messing around with pronouns in English since forever. Do you see 'heo' in Modern English? No, you do not! (Not that it was gender neutral, but the point is that even words as ancient as pronouns have changed quite a bit.) The early internet was full of pronoun stuff in MUDs and the like. You had a choice of a lot more than just three in a bunch of these. People besides men and women have always been in queer communities.

So some people like to cry about neopronouns being actually neo, and they're just wrong.

As for the why do you care part...

There is a nasty habit in contemporary queer spaces to act like gay rights issues are solved. Bisexuality? Passe! etc. Gays and lesbians finally got a little mainstream acceptance only to suddenly be treated like the worst of the establishment by the queer youth. How dare?!?! It's even more egregious with bisexuality where the focus of a bunch of queer activism finally swung that way in the 90s... only to be sharply cut off in the 00s.

There's a real "You already got yours. Where's mine?" vibe to some queer discourse today, and it's directed at people who never got theirs. It shows up in demands for mentorship by people who've barely had a chance to escape a rocky start and figure out who they are themselves. It shows up in yowling about this or that bit of queer media we finally got not being progressive because it's the wrong letter of the acronym.

None of which has a damn thing to do with what pronouns you use in your novel, obviously, but I think some unresolved embattled feelings are why some older queer people are very weird about pronouns.

Some of them are also doing the old person version of throwing the weirdos under the bus to placate the normies. Respectability politics became a term long before the behavior was rife on tumblr.

If someone really does find it pretentious, though, and not just as a cover for crying about nonbinary identities being fake, I suspect they just remember how 1970s SFF was full of privileged anthropology students misunderstanding kinship systems from elsewhere in the world and then trying to tell everyone how ~deep~ their extremely contrived novels based on them were.

I'm not saying your writing is like this or that every one of these old sff novels was either, but when I hear "anthropology student", I groan internally. It's an instinctive reaction. It's less about the real fields and more about the bevvy of dilettantes I've run into over the years who'll say they study those things but really want to talk my ear off about Joseph fucking Campbell or the strong form of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis or something.

Those birds are a really cool source of inspiration. Like with A/B/O, the first thing I wonder is how queerness works in that context and how much people like to defy their designated roles.

Omegaverse started on porn logic, so "The one I say tops always tops!" makes sense. When it gets expanded to try to make it make logical sense as a whole world, I often enjoy it, but it can break down quickly if treated as biology is law. I don't know how often the birds veer off of their set patterns, but humans certainly would.

One place where I get a strong "Oh god, this again" feeling from people's plotbunnies is when they're trying to make up a sff society that strikes me as too rigid in a way that real humans aren't. I'll see people using fake wolf biology (not just for horny reasons) but never looking at what's going on with gender in contemporary Thailand or whatever. Like... Le Guin may have made sedoretus feel plausible, but nobody I've ever seen stanning the concept as something fandom should play with has. That's probably because Le Guin was using over-complicated social norms as a thing that breaks down and causes trouble, and "This should be the next A/B/O!" posts are treating it as something that actually works and is a good way to get the pair you don't ship separated while shipping poly.

"It'd also help the reader keep track of who was a part of what group without my having to turn around and state people's coloration constantly."

This, in particular, gives me that cold shudder of recognition from when Homestuck fandom was everywhere and everyone wanted to over-explain those stupid playing card suits and why I should care.

Your concept sounds neat, and I think a set of four pronouns could easily make sense there...

But I also think that if people need the pronouns to keep track of coloration, you haven't set up a system that feels organic enough or haven't given enough cues about how characters are treating each other or why. Use the pronouns too, but just keep that in mind. It's like the "m/m is hard because the pronouns don't tell me whose hand is where" problem. It's almost never actually a pronoun problem.

Anyone else have thoughts here?

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allpiesforourown · 3 months ago

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Maybe this is smth you've already added to your excellent svsss cheat sheet, but does the System ever EXPLICITLY say (or even firmly imply) that SQQ will be killed if he spills the beans? And going further, even if his account WAS "terminated," is it ever explicitly confirmed that he's dead in the modern world/ that his body is dead and going back would kill him? We all know our mans is king of wild assumptions, and I can't remember if/where that was said. Thank you for your service as always.

So the system did say if Shen Yuan violated its rules, he'd be sent back to his original world. It's sound to assume that being returned wouldn't mean he goes back to being alive in his world. Shang Qinghua DID get the offer to return to his world, but that was after he "completed" his role.

We also know that when Shen Yuan came close to returning (before he changed it to the Bingge punishment protocol) it was painful for him.

But really, there's no way to tell for sure if it's a Shang Qinghua type situation or if he'd end up as a ghost back in his world.

As for him revealing his identity... I never thought about it, but now I do think there was never a rule saying he can't say he's a transmigrator. (If I'm wrong about this, feel free to reply with a correction!) Also whenever Tianlang Jun questioned the amount of knowledge Shen Yuan has about the mausoleum, the system didn't say anything, which implies people being suspicious of his identity doesn't matter

This probably means the only reason Shen Yuan never said anything about him being a transmigrator is probably because

1: He thought no one would believe him (it does sound a bit insane)

2, and more likely in my opinion: he just didn't think it mattered. From the beginning he dove headfirst into the role of Shen Qingqiu. Even after the OOC function was unlocked, he didn't stop with the aloof master act. I think he just... wanted to preserve Shen Qingqiu as a person in Binghe's 'story' - he wants Binghe to watch him die, move on, and go get his harem so he can be happy. Revealing his identity would just complicate that... not to mention how much he suppresses things about himself. Talking about things like his old family or life would be like talking about ... FEELINGS and there's no way in hell he'd do that. But again this is just my personal guess

#svsss #shen yuan #long post #not wasted but not fully sober either so not sure if this makes sense

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merilaurecus · 3 months ago

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Companions reactions to Modern!Tav speaking their native language

So consider isekai Tav whose mother tongue isn't English/common. So once when they think they're alone they speak to themselves in that tongue to ease the thinking process or just because of homesickness, until they realise someone was within earshot.

Gale

He know several languages himself because of his education, but your language is nothing like he's heard before

Stays quiet for a moment just to listen to it before making known he was there

"There's... how many languages?!"

Loves it and wants to learn more, especially if using your language makes up for your homesickness a bit (he knows the feeling well enough to be compassionate about it)

Will ask you to tell stories even if he can't understand it. He's just amused.

The grammar and orthography also fall under his umbrella of interests, happily listens to it even if it's complicated (like my first language is polish so dude would pass out within half of an hour of my ass doing its best to explain grammar)

Will also tell you about the languages he knows (calishite, netherse and so on)

You exchange your educational experience which turns into one big chat about education in your worlds

The vocabulary, the dialects, the jargon – this man needs to know it all. It's your time to yap about something and he'll absorb it all

If you know any other language(s) you've got a ton of approval from him for sure. Yes, he'll ask you to speak those as well.

He'll remember some phrases like greetings to help you with your homesickness

Astarion

He's an elf, so knows two languages since he was a little elfling

Actually surprised and curious when he first hears you speak it to yourself

Keeps it to himself but stays within earshot for a longer moment than he'd like to admit

Asks you about that the morning after in his poshy manner, but you can tell you've got his attention (and this time it isn't about your neck)

Asks about languages back in your world, and when you say you actually know more than one (or even two) his elven ass is amused, though he'll do his best to hide it behind his usual mask

Won't ask about learning anything unless he's comfortable enough around you (give our traumatized boi time)

You'll hear him speaking elven to himself after you've told him it was because of homesickness (he'll try to remember a part of himself from before he was turned)

Actually inspired by you (once again he won't admit it unless you're close or he's comfy around you)

Once he fell asleep (k, got into his elven trance) listening to you telling yourself some story in your language but won't tell you (unless?)

If you get comfortable around each other he'll teach you a bit of elven

Alternatively to the above Shadowheart may know some simple elven phrases or words (like "friend" or something similar) and you surprising him with that gets you his approval, even if he'll be silent about it at first

Karlach

She's soo confused at first

Thrilled after you tell her that's your native language and that you actually know other language than common

Asks you for stories, then the slurs and swear words

Loves to hear it even if she doesn't get a thing

You know other languages?! She loves it. Will tell you sometimes she wishes she had the patience for the books

Understands if it's because of homesickness and won't mind if you mumble something not quite understandable under your breath

In few days she'll swear like a native or like Gale, she'll at least try to greet you in your mother tongue (she won't do it as smoothly as the wizard but she gets credit for trying, she's so sweet doing this)

Wyll

Much like Karlach

Curious and surprised to hear it, amused you know more than one language

He canonically said he picked up gith swear words so he'll pick up yours as well

Him and Mama K. will know best ones in no time

He respects your ability to learn new languages, he's much better with a blade than the books (unless it's mermaid smut)

Also understands your homesickness and if you're speaking to yourself in other language than common will leave you to yourself (unless you switch to common and say if there was anything important about your quests)

Will gently ask if there's a story you can tell too, even if he can't understand. Anything that makes you feel better

Lae'zel

Does her best not to show interest or worse yet, curiousity

Is visibly surprised though

She also comes from a culture with a different language and you both sometimes lack words in common

You don't speak much about that but you help each other find exact words you've been wanting to use

None of you will admit it, it's a silent agreement

If you get comfortable enough around each other you'll exchange your vocabulary a little bit along with the homesickness

If you know more than two languages she'll be a tiny little bit impressed, but won't hesitate to say it's useless here (you kinda agree and didn't expect more from her)

Sometimes her tongue will slip and she'll swear in your language (and roll her eyes like in the gif above if confronted about it)

You'll do the same the other time, though shamelessly

Shadowheart

Heard you talking to yourself but couldn't make it out

Focuses her hearing on your words but she can't even name the language

"W-what are you saying?"

You were startled at first but you calmly explain you got homesick and needed something to connect you with your home, even if it's a stupid chat with yourself or f.x. Scratch

You tell her about your language and where it is from

She understands but is also in awe because of variety of tongues in your world

She knows a bit of elven, but that's probably it

Happily listens to any language you know and any story (even if she can't make a thing out of it). Our girl just doesn't remember much and if there's someone with bigger story she'll listen.

Bonus track

Imagine using the tadpole to let companions understand your mother tongue!!! Bet that Gale's sage ass would be elated to not only hear but UNDERSTAND the whole ass language from the other world. The others wouldn't be as amused but Gale? He'd be so freaking happy I can't –

(yes I'm a feral Gale girlie, why?)

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marsplastic13 · 5 months ago

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'Complicated' (Part 1) - Kaz Brekker x reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 9.3k notes: please let me know what you think <3

Kaz Brekker studied the girl sitting uncomfortably in front of him. She kept shifting in her seat, her eyes darting around the room. Kaz tried to gather his thoughts, cursing himself for the drunk texts he had sent the previous night. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he was as uncomfortable as she was. He sighed, repeating to himself, "For Inej." He didn't care about this girl, didn't know her, didn't want to know her—he was doing this for Inej.

The girl's phone buzzed again. "Sorry, my friends are scared that you're going to kill me and asked me to send texts every three minutes or they'll call the police," she murmured, typing quickly.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He knew he had to say something. "For Inej," he reminded himself once more. "You are a prostitute," he blurted out. Who starts a conversation like that?

"Yep," the girl nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

"Who do you work for?"

"No one, it's, uh, really a selected clientele, let's say. I work with my roommates."

Kaz nodded, avoiding her gaze. He shouldn't be ashamed; she was no one. "I have a girlfriend—"

"Oh, the Wraith? I watch all of her videos. She's gorgeous. Sorry, I'll let you speak," she added quickly, noticing the annoyance on his face.

His last encounter with Inej played in his mind—how she had kissed him and he had run away, throwing up in the street. He shook his head. He could do this. He had to. "I have an issue. I can't touch people. It makes me physically sick, and I have to overcome it. For her," he said, all in one breath.

The girl frowned, her gaze shifting to his gloved hands. "So what do you want from me?"

"I want to get used to skin," he said, looking up at the ceiling, silently asking Ghezen to take him out of his misery. "She'll be back in a few months, and I would like to show her some progress."

"I'm sure you don't want her to know about this arrangement," the girl said slowly.

"No, exactly."

The girl looked around, weighing his words. "Sure, it's fine. I can do it. Prices are the same, though, sex or not," she said, getting up.

Kaz stood as well, nodding. "What do I owe you for this... chat?" he asked, blushing slightly.

The girl smirked. "First meeting is on the house. I'm y/n, by the way." She made her way out, and Kaz collapsed back into his chair, exhausted by the encounter.

***

Kaz Brekker found himself in the entry of her apartment, sitting uncomfortably on a couch, waiting. The girl who let him in had remarked that he was early and that she was still busy. He could hear soft moans coming from behind a closed door and did his best to ignore them, maintaining a straight face.

After a while, the noises stopped, replaced by muted conversation. A man left the room in a hurry, and a few minutes later, she appeared. The girl was wearing a see-through robe and dark green lingerie. She gestured for him to enter. Kaz hesitated, reminding himself, "For Inej."

The room was tidy, with no unnecessary items around. Kaz stood in the middle of it, unsure of what to do.

"You can sit, Kaz. Can I call you Kaz, or should I call you Mr. Brekker?"

"Kaz is fine," he said, neatly folding his coat and placing it on a chair, resting his cane against it. He took a seat on the bed, keeping some distance from her.

"You know, I actually did more research," she stated, getting a bit closer. The girl hugged her legs, her feet inches from his thigh. Kaz could already feel the anxiety rising.

"Your girlfriend was kidnapped and enslaved. That's awful. She's doing a great job sharing her story around the world."

He nodded without looking at her. Her body was on full display, and he never felt worse.

"What would she think if she knew you were with a whore?"

Kaz's head shot up, surprised by the question. "I... That's... you do it by choice," he stammered.

"So she wouldn't have a problem?" she inquired, curious, leaning in.

Kaz shifted a bit away. "That's none of your business," he snapped, then turned to look at her. "Why do you do this?"

The girl smiled. "Because sex is great, and my grandma always told me never to do something for free if you're good at it."

Kaz tilted his head, frowning.

"I mean," she continued, shifting closer, "what's the difference between going out on a Friday night hoping for some guy to buy me a drink and then take me home? I'll tell you," she added, not letting him think, "First, I'm getting paid, a lot. I can work with who I want, when I want, and I still have Friday nights free."

"That's... a way to see things," he admitted, surprised.

"Kaz?"

"Yes?"

"You're about to fall off the bed," she whispered playfully. Kaz had shifted so far away that he was dangerously close to the edge of the mattress.

"You are too close," he said, avoiding her gaze.

"Wasn't that the goal?" she leaned in a bit more.

"I need more time and space," Kaz said, getting up and pacing a bit.

"Do you have suggestions? Because I'm not really used to whatever it is you want me to do."

Kaz's mind raced. Part of him screamed to leave, to bury himself somewhere, to tell Inej it was over and disappear from the world. But another part remembered how good it had felt to hold Inej's hand, even if just for a few minutes. He sighed, sitting back on the bed.

"I need to have control over this, over you," he said, determined.

"I'm yours for the next 50 minutes," she shrugged, eyeing him curiously.

Kaz got lost in thought for a moment. "Can I see your hands?"

The girl rested them on the bed, and he slowly brought his covered fingers to brush against hers. "Do you like my nails?" she asked. Was she unable to stay quiet? he wondered.

"No, they're too long. Also, I don't like the color or the shape." These weren't Inej's hands, tanned and small, with bitten nails.

The girl laughed. "You have strong opinions about nails."

He actually chuckled, studying them more closely. "You should change your nail technician."

"I'll ring you up next time I have to do them."

Kaz kept turning her hand in his. They were pale and trembled slightly. Or maybe his hands were trembling; he didn't know. His thoughts wandered to the moans he had heard earlier. He wondered if they were real or if she was acting.

His fingers brushed hers again, and she shivered slightly. Kaz couldn't help but wonder about her life. Was she always this confident? Was she always in control? Did she ever feel as lost as he did right now?

After a long time, he felt confident enough to remove his gloves. "You have pianist's hands," she observed, tilting her head.

"I have thief's hands," he whispered. Kaz rested his hands next to hers on the bed. He raised a finger and slowly traced it along her hand. Shivers went down his spine; the anxiety was at his ankles, but he wasn't going to drown.

Kaz exhaled. "Your hands are cold," said the girl.

"Yours too," he replied.

"You know, I think you're forcing yourself too much. You're too focused on your hands," she observed.

"What should I do?" Kaz raised his gaze to meet hers.

"I don't know. Do something that involves touching, but not just that. Keep talking," she encouraged.

"About what?"

"Talk about your girlfriend."

Hesitantly, Kaz started talking, sharing facts here and there. He tried to keep his eyes on her, distancing his thoughts from her cold hands in his trembling ones.

Kaz felt her hands continuously slipping away. Every time he reached for them, she pulled away.

"For Ghezen's sake, stay still," he said, annoyed, grabbing her wrist to keep her hand where he wanted it.

She raised her brows, surprised.

Kaz looked at their hands. His lungs felt like they were filling with water.

"Kaz, you're not breathing."

No, he wasn't. He let go of her wrist, getting to his feet again. He leaned on the desk, taking slow breaths and cursing himself, his past, Inej, and the poor girl who was watching him with wide eyes.

"Do you want to try again?" she offered.

Kaz took a shaky breath, then nodded.

Later, he stayed in his car under the girl's flat for a while, listening to Inej's audio messages and wondering what she would think of him if she knew. He wondered if this would work and if she would ask what had happened to him when she returned and he could hug her, feel her, kiss her.

***

For weeks, Kaz made his way to her house. It took him a lot to be comfortable enough to hold her hand. Even if he didn't like to admit it, he didn't dislike talking to her. Sometimes he would vent about his work, and she would listen attentively, her hands held tight in his. Other times, they would talk about the Netflix show he convinced her to watch, sharing moments of laughter and distraction from the weight of their respective lives.

One time, they even got into a spirited debate because she was a vegan and he thought it was a ridiculous concept. She argued passionately about animal rights and the environment, while he countered with pragmatic concerns about nutrition and societal norms. Despite their differences, they found a strange sort of fun in their debates, both stubbornly refusing to concede their positions.

As the weeks passed, Kaz found himself looking forward to their sessions, not just because of the progress he was making with his aversion to touch but also because of the unexpected connection he was forming with this unconventional woman. She was sharp-witted, unapologetically herself, and surprisingly perceptive about his inner struggles. Though their arrangement was based on a transactional premise, Kaz couldn't deny that there was a genuine bond developing between them.

He often wondered about her life outside of these walls, the clients she saw, the challenges she faced, and the reasons that led her to this unconventional career. Yet, despite his curiosity, he refrained from prying too deeply. Their interactions were framed within a delicate balance of intimacy and distance, a line he was careful not to cross.

Each visit brought a new revelation or a small triumph. Sometimes it was a touch held a moment longer than before, a conversation that flowed effortlessly, or a shared laughter that eased the tension in the room. Through it all, Kaz kept Inej in his thoughts, reminding himself that every step he took here was for her.

***

He still had about three weeks before Inej would come back. Kaz was waiting on the couch, getting used to the noises he heard from the various rooms in the house. That day, they were louder than he had ever heard, and he recognized her voice clearly. The girl at the desk snorted, looking at his embarrassed face.

"Stop, please, stop, let me go," he heard, and he got on his feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" the girl at the desk raised an eyebrow.

"She said—" her screams grew louder, more pleading, more desperate cries for help.

Kaz took a few more steps, but the girl stopped him. "She's not using her safe word. You can't go in. Are you crazy?" she asked angrily.

Kaz stopped, embarrassed. "I'll go back to—"

"Yeah, sit back," the girl shook her head.

Kaz reluctantly sat back down, his mind racing. He felt a mixture of anger, confusion, and helplessness. The sounds from the room continued, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he should be doing something. Every instinct screamed at him to intervene, but he forced himself to stay put, gripping the edge of the couch with white knuckles.

The girl at the desk glanced at him, then sighed. "Look, I get it. It sounds bad, but she knows what she's doing. If she needed help, she'd use her safe word."

Kaz nodded, trying to calm his racing heart. "I know. It's just... weird to listen to."

The girl softened a bit. "It's part of the job, both hers and mine. You learn to block it out. You'll get used to it too, if you keep coming here."

He wasn't sure he wanted to get used to it. Kaz's thoughts drifted back to Inej, to the reason he was putting himself through this. He needed to be stronger for her, to be able to touch her without flinching. But moments like this made him question if he was doing the right thing.

Eventually, the noises from the room subsided. The door opened, and the man from earlier left, looking smug. Kaz glared at him, but the man didn't notice, or didn't care.

A few minutes later, she emerged, looking tired but composed. She saw Kaz and gave him a small smile. "Ready?" she asked.

Kaz nodded, standing up. He followed her into the familiar room, feeling more on edge than usual. As they settled in, he tried to push the recent events out of his mind, focusing on the task at hand.

"You okay?" she asked, noticing his tension.

"Yeah," Kaz lied. "Just... a bit distracted."

She nodded, understanding. "We can take it slow today."

Kaz took a deep breath, reaching for her hand. He held it gently, trying to steady himself. "For Inej," he reminded himself again.

She still looked a bit disheveled when he got on her bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, no one fucked me that good in ages, I'm still a bit shocked, sorry."

Kaz looked at the ceiling, sighing. She always had to overshare.

"What's your safe word?" he asked as she got closer.

"Why? Are you into weird shit?" she grinned, and he felt himself blush because of his total lack of experience.

"Don't make that panicked face. I was joking," her hand slid comfortably into his, "my safe word is 'safe word.'"

Kaz laughed, a good, sincere laugh. "I am not surprised."

She laughed too. "I really hope that one day you'll be able to do shit so nasty it'll become too much, and the only thing you have in mind is, 'I have to use my safe word,' and you'll think that just saying 'safe word' is a great idea."

Kaz studied her, feeling a bit curious about what she was doing with the man before him, and he was sure she would go into detail if he asked. Instead, he decided to go straight for what he wanted to do. "I want to hold you."

"Sure, how?"

He thought about Inej, how he saw her with their friends, carefree, resting her head on Nina's lap.

"Rest your head on me," his heart started racing as she executed the request.

"How does it feel?" she asked, getting comfortable.

Kaz looked at her, slowly scanning her features. She was undeniably beautiful, but still not as much as Inej. There was a stark difference between the two women, and it wasn't just physical. This girl's beauty was polished and practiced, a tool she wielded with confidence and control. Inej's beauty was more profound, a quiet strength that resonated from deep within her, marked by the resilience in her eyes and the grace in her movements.

As Kaz held her, he found himself comparing every detail. Her hair was soft under his fingers, but it lacked the wild, untamed quality of Inej's. Her skin was smooth and flawless, but it didn't have the history and stories that Inej's scars told. He felt a pang of guilt for comparing them, but he couldn't help it. Inej was the reason he was here, the reason he was pushing himself to the brink of his comfort zone.

His mind wandered to the times he had watched Inej from afar, wishing he could reach out and touch her, to reassure her of his presence and his support. He remembered the way she moved through the shadows, a silent guardian, and how he had admired her from a distance. She was more than just a companion; she was his anchor, his reason for fighting.

But now, as he sat here, trying to overcome his deepest fears, he wondered if he would ever be able to truly be there for her. Would this training make a difference? Would he be able to touch her without flinching, without feeling the icy grip of panic?

He thought about the last time he had seen Inej, how she had kissed him and how he had run away, throwing up in the street. The memory filled him with shame, but also a renewed determination. He couldn't let that be the end of their story. He had to be stronger, for her.

"It's... fine," he admitted, feeling more in control that day.

"You know," she said with a smirk, "I'm sure your girlfriend would absolutely love it if you played with her hair, scratched her head..." she let her voice trail off.

Kaz chuckled. "My girlfriend or you?"

"Oh no, it's all for her. I would hate it," she laughed softly.

He removed his gloves and started touching her hair from the lengths. He slowly made his way to her head, wondering if Inej would really enjoy it as much as this girl seemed to. The girl closed her eyes, humming with satisfaction. "I can't believe you pay me to cuddle me," she whispered.

"I'm not cuddling you," he said, offended.

"I know you're not an expert, but trust me, love, you totally are," the girl smiled, keeping her eyes closed.

Kaz rolled his eyes. "I want to try and hug you, but, uhm, can you put some more clothes on?"

The girl looked at her exposed body, then nodded. "Sure thing, baby. I'll be right back." She stood up and walked to her dresser, pulling out a comfortable-looking sweater and leggings. After slipping them on, she returned to the bed and sat next to him.

"Can you stop using pet names for me? It's weird," Kaz requested.

The girl sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Kaz." She moved to sit on his lap, waiting for his instructions. Kaz kept his hands firmly on the bed, his breaths quickening. The girl stood still, looking around, until he rested one of his hands on her thigh. She started chatting about the latest gossip she had on one of her friends, and Kaz found himself becoming more and more invested. That girl was really unlucky with relationships.

Kaz put his other hand on her arm, and while she kept talking, he guided her to rest against his chest, silently battling a war inside of him.

"Kaz, you're not breathing," she reminded him gently.

He knew he wasn't, and tried to distract himself by focusing on her hair. Sometimes he wondered if he had it all wrong. Maybe Inej would have enjoyed making this long journey with him, but he felt too embarrassed. With y/n, he didn't have to be ashamed; he was paying for her time, and he was the one setting the pace and the rules.

Kaz let her press her head against his chest, staring firmly out of the window. "Can I?" the girl rested a hand on his chest to shift more comfortably. They remained in that position for a while. He gathered the courage to hug her more tightly, but as he did, her forehead pressed against his neck, and he felt like drowning.

Kaz abruptly got to his feet, shoving her away, trying to ground himself. "What the fuck?" the girl was on the floor, massaging her shoulder, and Kaz managed to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry, I can't-" he started, his voice faltering with frustration and self-disappointment. He turned away, struggling to regain his composure, he failed miserably to steady his breaths.

The girl remained on the floor, watching him quietly.

He didn't look at her as he hurriedly gathered his things and made his way to the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at her once more. "Wait Kaz don't-" he heard her calling for him, but he ran away from the building. His heart stopped racing only after he drove for a while.

After a shower, Kaz was feeling slightly better. He threw himself on his bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally from the day's events. Checking his phone, he found a few audio messages from Inej, likely filled with her warm voice and reassuring words, a couple of pictures from Jesper, probably teasing snapshots or updates from their latest escapade, and nothing from y/n.

Kaz sighed heavily; he had even forgotten to pay her. He tapped on the bank application: 'Press Confirm to send 700 kruge to y/n y/l/n.' It was way more than what he usually gave her, but he confirmed the transaction without hesitation, feeling it was a small price for the scene he caused. Tossing his phone aside, he turned on the TV and aimlessly flipped through channels until he settled on the new episode of Masterchef.

As he immersed himself in the cooking competition, his phone signaled a new message.

'Did someone steal your card?'

Kaz shook his head at the text, amused by her directness. He decided not to respond, but another message followed immediately.

'Are you watching Masterchef?'

'No,' he replied without thinking.

'I bet you could do a better tiramisu than this even blind and with just one hand.'

He chuckled softly, his lips curving into a rare smile. 'Absolutely.'

'My friends asked me to go to the Crow Club tomorrow night, hope it's not a problem.'

'It's fine,' Kaz replied, relieved at the normalcy of their conversation despite the recent awkwardness.

The girl left him on read, and he returned his attention to the episode, stealing occasional glances at his phone. In the comfort of his room, surrounded by the familiar banter of the cooking show and the gentle glow of the television, Kaz allowed himself a moment of respite from the complexities of his life.

***

The next night, Kaz observed the bustling crowd from his elevated private zone in the club. It was well past 2 am, and the party was in full swing. Amidst the sea of dancing bodies and flashing lights, he spotted y/n with four other girls, one of whom he recognized as the 'secretary' he had seen at her house.

Almost immediately, a group of guys approached them, offering drinks and inviting them to dance. Kaz felt a pang of discomfort at the thought of immersing himself in the midst of the sweaty, pulsating crowd, but he couldn't deny that y/n and her friends seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Throughout the night, Kaz stole glances at her, careful not to lock eyes. He observed as she laughed, danced, and interacted with her friends and the group of guys around them. Despite the chaotic environment of the club, there was a sense of carefree energy emanating from y/n that Kaz found both intriguing and somewhat unsettling.

As the hours ticked by and the club approached closing time around 4 am, Kaz couldn't help but notice y/n leaving with a guy, her arm casually draped around his. Guess she found someone to take her home on a Friday night, he thought wryly.

Observing from his secluded vantage point, Kaz's mind began to wander, consumed by curiosity about y/n's motivations. It puzzled him why someone who engaged in intimate encounters every day for work would actively seek out another person at a club. Was it a matter of preference—perhaps finding someone who could provide a different kind of connection or intimacy that her clients couldn't? Did she crave genuine affection or cuddles after days of superficial interactions?

The image of her relaxed face as he played with her hair during their sessions floated into his mind. There had been a moment of vulnerability there, a glimpse behind the professional facade she maintained. Kaz found himself reflecting on the complexities of human desires and needs, realizing that intimacy—whether physical or emotional—could manifest in myriad forms, even for someone whose profession seemed to blur those boundaries.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, torn between curiosity and a sense of guilt for prying into her personal life.

***

"Kaz!" He had just stepped out of his car when he heard her voice calling from somewhere behind him.

Kaz turned and saw y/n approaching with a smile. It was the first time she had been free before their usual session.

"That's really your car?" she asked in shock.

"Yep," he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

"My brother in Ghezen, you have money," she observed, still eyeing the car. "Are you sure you want to stay faithful to your girlfriend?" she smirked.

"Pretty sure," he answered without hesitation.

"Why are you always this early?" she asked, opening the building's door and gesturing for him to enter first.

Kaz shrugged, "I don't like being late."

"Well, I'm not booked for another 20 minutes. Do you want something to drink? I think I have beer."

"You drink before going to work?" he joked.

"Oh, wait until I tell you I have sex at my workplace sometimes," she winked.

They sat in her room, chatting about Masterchef and sipping their drinks. "I'll change and then I'm all yours," she said, heading to her drawer.

Kaz glanced at her outfit—jeans and a t-shirt, perfectly ordinary. "Can you stay like this?" he blurted before he could stop himself. "You have less skin exposed."

She seemed uncomfortable with his request. "Undressing helps me separate things," she explained, shifting her weight. "I wouldn't feel comfortable using my everyday clothes while working. I'll find a compromise like the other day."

After she changed into something less revealing, they both sat on the bed. Kaz felt calmer than before; he had survived her touching his neck, and despite the panic attack, the world hadn't stopped turning. He hadn't drowned. He could do this. 'For Inej,' he repeated in his mind like a mantra.

"Come here," he said softly, and she moved onto his lap.

Again, he started touching her hair and noticed she must have changed her shampoo. Slowly, he pulled her closer until her head rested on his chest, both careful not to let bare skin touch. They continued chatting, and Kaz felt comfortable enough to hold her hand too.

The girl slowly shifted in his arms to look at him while talking, and he didn't even notice.

"Fix my hair," she said at a certain point.

He looked puzzled. "I have hair in my face, put it behind my ear," she encouraged, "girls love it, trust me."

Kaz sighed. He had never touched her face. He took the small strand of hair and did what she asked, brushing as little as possible against her ear.

"Not bad," she commented with a smile, making him snort at the absurdity of the situation.

The whole scenario felt surreal. Here he was, grappling with the simple act of brushing hair from her face, while she was someone who had sex for money, casually and without the emotional turmoil that plagued him. Kaz's mind raced with the juxtaposition of their worlds—her ease and expertise contrasted sharply with his profound discomfort and hesitation.

Kaz's gaze fell from her eyes to her lips, and she didn't miss it. "Yes, it would be a great moment to kiss her."

He nodded, feeling bad about how slow his progress was. It frustrated him to no end. He had always been the master of his own fate, the one in control, but this was different. This was a battle against his own mind and body, and he was losing. He felt like he was stuck in quicksand, every attempt to move forward met with resistance.

His mind wandered back to Inej, her soft voice and the warmth of her presence. How would she react if she knew what he was doing? Would she understand, or would she feel betrayed? He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the girl in front of him.

"I saw you at the club the other day. Saw you left with a guy."

"Yeah, nothing special. Bit boring, not a great shag. I'll see him later for dinner," she commented.

"Why are you seeing him again if he's not good in bed?" he frowned.

"Maybe because I have sex almost every day, so it's not exactly my first concern," she snorted.

"Yeah, right. I always forget," he shook his head.

"Forget what? That not everyone who comes in here wants to do sweet things like you?" she teased.

Kaz felt a flush of frustration rising. "The fact that I can't do much doesn't mean I wouldn't like to do much more," he said before registering what he was revealing.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "That's new," she commented.

Kaz immediately felt a wave of embarrassment crash over him. He wasn't used to exposing such raw vulnerability, especially not to someone he was paying to help him. It made him feel weak, pathetic even, to admit his shortcomings so openly.

He glanced away, his face heating up. "Forget I said anything," he mumbled, wishing he could take the words back.

But she didn't let it go. "No, really. What do you mean?"

Kaz struggled to find the right words, feeling cornered. "It's just... I want to be able to touch her, to hold her without feeling like I'm drowning. I want to be able to kiss her, to feel her against me without panicking."

She nodded, listening intently. "It's natural to want those things with someone you care about."

Kaz's frustration bubbled over. "It's more than that. I want to be able to... to make her feel good, to be with her the way she deserves. I think about it all the time, but I can't even get close without... without freezing up."

Her eyes widened slightly, her expression sympathetic.

He glanced away, again. "Forget it," he mumbled, wishing he could take the words back.

But she didn't let it go. "No, really. What do you mean?"

Kaz sighed, his frustration mixing with a deep sense of inadequacy. "I mean, I want to be able to do things, normal things. But I can't. Every step feels like I'm trying to climb a mountain."

She tilted her head, her expression softening. "You're doing more than you realize, Kaz. The fact that you're here, trying, it says a lot about you."

He shook his head, still unable to meet her gaze. "But it's not enough. Inej deserves more than what I can give her right now."

She placed a hand on his, her touch gentle. "I imagine Inej loves you for who you are, not for what you can do. She's seen you at your worst, and she's still with you, right?"

Kaz nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but for how long? What if she gets tired of waiting for me to be... normal?"

"Normal is overrated," she said with a small smile. "And besides, you're making progress. It might feel slow, but every step forward is a victory."

He sighed, feeling a bit of the weight lift off his shoulders. "I just... I don't want to disappoint her."

"And you won't," she assured him. "You're trying, and that's what matters. The rest will come with time."

Kaz felt a mix of relief and frustration. He was trying, but it never felt like enough. He didn't want to just keep trying; he wanted to succeed. He wanted to be the man Inej deserved, not just someone who was always working on getting better.

"So you want to have sex with her?" she asked with a grin, her tone teasing and eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Of course I want to," he let himself say, sighing heavily. "But it's not just about sex. It's about everything that comes with it. The intimacy, the closeness, the trust. I want to be able to give her that without feeling like I'm about to fall apart."

She laughed softly. "That's a lot of pressure for one guy, even one as stubborn as you, Kaz. But it's cute, you know? Watching you struggle with this whole intimacy thing."

"Great," he muttered, his frustration mounting. "I'm glad my issues are entertaining for you."

She rolled her eyes, still grinning. "Oh, come on. Lighten up a little. You're taking this way too seriously."

"Seriously?" Kaz's voice had a sharp edge. "Of course I take it seriously. This is about more than just me. It's about Inej. She deserves better."

“But what about you Kaz? You always talk about her, what she might need, what she might expect from you,” she observed, “You’re allowed to do things for you too. You need to loosen up. Enjoy the process a bit."

Kaz felt the heat of embarrassment and anger rise in his cheeks. "It's not that simple," he snapped. "I can't just 'loosen up' and pretend everything's fine."

She smirked, leaning in closer. "Maybe you need to stop overthinking and start feeling. Like right now. What do you want to do? What do you really want?"

Kaz's mind raced, his usual calm shattered. "I want to be able to touch her, hold her, without feeling like I'm going to drown."

She raised an eyebrow, her smile turning mischievous. "What do you want to do with me?"

Kaz hesitated, feeling the weight of her question. His thoughts were jumbled, a mix of frustration and desire. He knew she was teasing him, but the question still struck a chord. He wanted to push his boundaries, but it was hard to admit it, even to himself.

"I want to..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I want to be able to hold you closer. To not feel like I'm constantly on the edge."

She tilted her head, still grinning. "Is that all? I thought you'd have something more interesting in mind, apart from holding hands and playing with hair."

Kaz felt a surge of irritation. "It's not a game," he snapped. "This is hard for me." His mind began to wander, thinking about all the things he wanted to try but was too shy to say out loud. He imagined holding her hand without gloves, feeling her skin against his. He thought about tracing the curves of her body, learning every inch of her by touch alone. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips against his and lose himself in the sensation.

He yearned to learn how to make her come undone in the same way he knew how to crack a safe, so good that it left her distracted all day, like he had witnessed for other men. He imagined exploring her body, discovering what made her gasp, what made her moan. In his mind, images of Inej blurred with images of y/n, and he shook his head to make them go away.

"You don't have to be afraid to say what you want," she whispered, her voice suddenly soft.

Kaz took another deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. "I just... I want to feel normal," he confessed. "I want to touch and be touched without fear."

"Do you think you can touch my cheek?"

Kaz tilted his head. "Maybe with the gloves first." He covered his hands and then stopped, unsure of how to proceed.

The girl felt his hesitation, "Can I?" she gestured to his hand, and he nodded.

She guided his hand to her face, and he felt the familiar rush of anxiety. He had to fight the urge to pull away, to retreat back into the safety of distance. His breathing quickened as he made contact, his gloved hand resting on her cheek.

"You're doing fine," she whispered encouragingly, but her words did little to soothe him. He felt like he was failing, like he was letting Inej down.

"It's just...so slow," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "I should be past this by now."

She shook her head slightly, careful not to disrupt his hand. "Everyone has their own pace, Kaz. You're making progress, and that's what matters."

Kaz sighed, his eyes fixated on his gloved hand against her skin. "But what if it's not enough? What if I can't ever get past this?"

She gently cupped his hand with her own, her touch light and reassuring. "You will. It's not about how fast you go, but about continuing to move forward, even if it's just a little bit at a time."

He looked at her, searching her eyes for some form of validation. "Do you really think so?"

She smiled softly. "I do. And I think Inej would understand. She knows what you've been through, and she wouldn't expect you to change overnight."

Kaz swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. He wanted so badly to believe her, but the fear of failure loomed large. "I just... I want to be better for her."

"And you will be," she assured him. "You're already trying, and that means a lot. Now, do you want to try taking off the glove?"

Kaz hesitated, but then nodded. "Yeah. Let's try."

He carefully removed his glove, exposing his hand to the cool air. The anxiety surged again, but he kept his focus on her face, her calm demeanor helping to steady him.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready."

She guided his bare hand back to her cheek, and this time, the contact felt more intimate, more real. Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mix of fear and determination.

"See? You're doing it," she said softly. "One step at a time."

Kaz nodded, feeling a small spark of hope ignite within him. Maybe he could do this, after all. Maybe he could become the person he wanted to be for Inej, one slow step at a time.

He let himself brush his fingers against her nose, tracing the line of her brows. He couldn't bring himself to cup her face completely, but still, it was a lot. When he left, he felt good. He didn't have much time before Inej's arrival, but he was making progress.

***

All of his confidence disappeared the night before her arrival. In Kaz's mind, the only scene he could see was when she tried to kiss him, and he ran away.

‘Can you come to my place?’ Kaz attached the screenshot of a payment of 1000 kruge he only had to confirm.

After two minutes, he got a response. ‘Are you okay?’

He thought about what he could answer, but luckily another message saved him. ‘I don't work outside home, sorry. You can come here if you want.’

Kaz confirmed the payment and stormed outside his house.

He found y/n at her door with a worried look. It was quite late; she was probably doing other things when he had written to her. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and she wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and pajama shorts, hinting that she might have been getting ready for bed before his unexpected message.

"Kaz, what is going on?" she whispered, concern evident in her eyes as she glanced at the time on her phone.

"I have to kiss you. I want to... I want to kiss her," Kaz blurted out, his voice strained with anxiety.

She nodded slowly, processing his words. "Okay," she said softly, her tone soothing. "Come in."

She stepped aside, allowing him to enter her apartment. Kaz followed her, feeling a mix of nerves and determination swirling inside him. He noticed the cozy atmosphere of her living room, dimly lit with a few lamps casting warm light across the space.

As they walked towards her bedroom, Kaz stole glances at her, trying to read her expression. She seemed uncertain yet patient, as if she understood the weight of his intentions but wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

Inside her bedroom, she turned to face him, her gaze searching. "Let's take it slow," she suggested gently, her voice a contrast to the nervous energy crackling between them.

Kaz nodded, his heart racing in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil of emotions churning inside him. This moment felt surreal, both daunting and exhilarating.

They stood facing each other, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Kaz noticed the way her eyes softened as she studied him, as if she could see past his walls and into the vulnerability he kept hidden.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

She took a step closer, closing the distance between them. Kaz felt his breath catch in his throat as she reached out, her hand resting gently on his arm.

"You're trying," she said softly, her gaze unwavering. "That's what matters."

He nodded, grateful for her understanding even as he struggled with his own expectations. Kaz knew he had to push past his fears, but the fear of failing Inej loomed large in his mind.

"I just..." Kaz started, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "I don't want to mess this up."

Her expression softened further, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Have you ever kissed someone?"

"Not exactly," he muttered.

"You don't have to force yourself."

"Maybe I do," Kaz replied, releasing a few shaky breaths. With all the patience in the world, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She tasted like cherries.

He took a few steps back, unsure. The world didn’t stop turning; he didn’t drown. He took a bit more courage, resting his gloved hands on her waist. Kaz tried to lean into the contact, to let their lips move against each other for more than a brief instant. She was cold, why was she always so cold? Inej burned under his touch; y/n felt like ice. Inej, he should be kissing Inej. Kaz pulled away from the brief contact again, with heavy breaths.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He nodded, and her gaze softened. “You’re trembling, Kaz. Do you want to sit?”

They moved to the bed, where he noticed her tablet on with a paused show open. She was really about to go to sleep when he arrived. Their noses were inches apart, and it already felt too much.

“Talk to me,” she said gently.

“You taste like cherries,” escaped from his mouth.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“What does Inej taste like?” she leaned closer, brushing her nose against his.

“Like the sea,” he murmured, gazing one last time at her lips before pressing them into a kiss. Kaz tried to stay present, focused. His body wanted to react, to ask for more, but his mind kept him on a short leash. He managed to tangle one hand in her hair, to have more control. The girl slightly opened her lips, inviting him in, and he didn’t know what to do. He knew that people kissed with tongues, but he never grasped the mechanics of it.

Sensing his hesitation, y/n opened her mouth more, waiting for him to go further. Kaz’s heart was racing; he was sure he was about to have a stroke. All of her body was ice cold, but the hotness radiating from inside her mouth seemed to come directly from hell. y/n brushed her tongue on his lips, and he forced himself to respond. But as their tongues touched, he was back in the harbor, and water was filling his lungs.

Panic surged through him, and he pulled back, gasping for air. His chest heaved as if he were drowning, the sensation all too familiar and terrifying. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and cursed himself for his weakness.

A wave of nausea made his body tremble. “Shit, are you going to throw up?” asked the girl, panic evident in her voice.

He nodded frantically, trying to stop his body from convulsing. She quickly passed him a bucket just in time for him to empty his stomach into it. The acrid smell and the sound of his retching filled the room, amplifying his embarrassment and frustration.

She went to open the window, letting the fresh air in. The cool breeze helped ground him a bit. “You don’t have to rush, Kaz,” she said, passing him a few tissues to wipe his mouth.

“I just wanted to... I have been doing better these past days,” he muttered, wiping away the remnants of his failure.

“Yeah, you are, don’t worry,” she assured him, her voice gentle. Without thinking, she rested her hand on his back, making small circles. He didn’t even notice it, from how natural it felt, and for a moment, he allowed himself to be comforted.

“So she’s coming tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s staying for a few weeks,” he replied, his voice tinged with anticipation and anxiety.

“You must be happy.”

“I am. I haven’t seen her in three months.”

“Special plans? Oh, you know where you should take her? I saw this place where they do this wine and chocolate tasting thing, must be super romantic.”

Kaz chuckled, imagining Inej in such a fancy place. The thought of her delicate features scrutinizing overpriced chocolate made him smile. “Are you going?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from his own nervousness.

The girl snorted, a sharp contrast to the soft concern she had shown moments before. “Yeah, sure, with who exactly?” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know, that guy from the club?” Kaz suggested, feeling the awkwardness of the question. He didn’t know why he was prying into her personal life. Maybe it was an attempt to normalize their interaction, or maybe he just wanted to understand her better.

“We’re not seeing each other anymore. We weren’t very compatible,” she said, her tone dismissive.

Kaz wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. Was he supposed to apologize? Or assure her that she would find someone else? The awkwardness of the moment hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable.

“It’s a bit late, Kaz. What do you want to do?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Better go home,” he said, gathering his things. He stole a last glance at her, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and discomfort. He was about to thank her, but then remembered the substantial amount of money he gave her to come over so late. It felt odd to focus on the transactional nature of their relationship when she had seen the most vulnerable parts of him. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks as he muttered a simple, “Goodnight,” and headed straight for his car.

As he drove home, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling of failure, the constant fear that he would never be able to be the man Inej deserved. The taste of her, the way she felt under his touch, was supposed to give him hope, but all it left was a hollow ache in his chest. He was trying, but it never felt like enough. As he pulled into his driveway, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Tomorrow, he would see Inej. And he had to be better for her. He had to be stronger.

***

Kaz got off the phone and threw it at the wall. The device clattered to the floor, its screen now cracked—a physical manifestation of his frustration. Inej wasn’t coming back. She had just called to talk about a new opportunity someone had proposed to her, and she had to be there. He was proud of the work she was doing, truly, but he couldn't help but feel left in the corner, an afterthought.

Inej had assured him it would only take a few days, that he wouldn’t even notice her absence. He chuckled bitterly at that. Easy for her to say—she wasn’t the one left behind to wait. She was always off on some new adventure, while he remained stuck, paralyzed by his own demons.

His phone buzzed, dragging him back from his spiraling thoughts. Reluctantly, he picked it up. It was a message from Jesper: 'Just talked to Inej. I’m sorry. Want to get drunk?' Kaz stared at the screen for a moment before replying with a simple thumbs-up. It was a weak attempt to push his emotions aside, but it was all he could manage.

With a heavy sigh, Kaz checked Instagram. As he scrolled through the endless stories of people he didn’t care about, one caught his eye—y/n pre-gaming with her friends before heading out. It was a boomerang of her getting on her knees and throwing her head back while another girl poured liquor directly into her mouth from a bottle.

He felt a strange pang of jealousy mixed with irritation. Here he was, struggling with his emotions, and there she was, seemingly carefree and reckless. Guess he wasn’t the only one getting drunk that night, but at least she seemed to be having fun.

Kaz tossed his phone onto the couch and sank into his armchair, his thoughts a tangled mess. He thought about Inej, about how much he missed her. He thought about y/n, about the absurdity of their last encounter. His mind was a whirlwind of frustration, loneliness, and longing.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jesper stood on the other side, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a mischievous grin on his face. “Ready to forget your troubles for a night?”

Kaz managed a weak smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They settled into the living room, and Jesper poured two generous glasses. They drank in silence at first, the alcohol burning a path down Kaz’s throat and dulling the edge of his thoughts. It was a temporary reprieve, but he welcomed it.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jesper asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Kaz shrugged. “There is no plan. Just get through the night.”

Jesper nodded, raising his glass in a silent toast. “To getting through.”

As they drank, Kaz’s thoughts kept drifting back to y/n. He wondered what she was doing now, if she was thinking about him at all. He knew it was ridiculous—she had her own life, her own problems. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of connection he had felt during their last meeting, despite everything.

He took another sip, trying to drown out the confusion in his mind. Tonight, he would let go, just for a little while. Tomorrow, he would pick up the pieces and try again.

Kaz and Jesper made their way to the Crow Club. He was already leaning heavily on his cane, the weight of the evening and the alcohol slowing him down. The queue outside was longer than ever, but being the owner had its perks. As they passed the waiting patrons, Kaz spotted y/n out of the corner of his eye. She was with her friends, laughing and swaying slightly, clearly already enjoying their night.

He knew he shouldn’t acknowledge her, but he was already a bit drunk and still simmering with anger and frustration over Inej. Impulsively, he gestured towards the girls. “You four,” he called out, his voice cutting through the noise. y/n’s intoxicated eyes widened in surprise. “Come with me.”

The girls followed, giggling and chattering amongst themselves. Kaz led them through the club, bypassing the main floor and heading straight to the VIP area. He offered them a prime table, ensuring they had a good view and plenty of attention from the waitstaff.

Kaz and y/n locked eyes for a brief moment before he turned to leave, making his way to the even more secluded private area with Jesper.

“Kaz, what was that?” Jesper asked, his eyes wide with curiosity and amusement.

Kaz shrugged, trying to play it off. “Don’t know, they looked cold waiting outside,” he mumbled.

“Sure, try to invent something better for next time,” Jesper laughed. “Or should I tell Inej?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Kaz bristled at the mention of Inej. “Tell her what? That I made four hot girls skip the queue so that some guys will offer them drinks and spend their money in my club? Sure, tell her.”

“There’s no need to get so defensive,” Jesper said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just messing with you.”

Kaz sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been a long day, Jesper.”

Jesper nodded, his expression softening. “I get it, man. You miss her. But you’ve got to trust that she’ll come back. And in the meantime, you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Kaz stared into his drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. “It’s just hard,” he admitted. “Inej is out there, doing amazing things, and I’m stuck here, trying to keep everything together. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Jesper clapped him on the back. “You’re doing your best, Kaz. That’s all anyone can ask for. Now, let’s get drunk and forget about our problems for a while.”

Kaz managed a small smile, raising his glass in a toast. “To forgetting our problems.”

They clinked glasses and drank deeply, each sip a temporary reprieve from the turmoil of their lives. Tonight, Kaz allowed himself to drift away from the weight of responsibilities and emotions that usually anchored him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message from y/n.

‘Thanks for the table, where’s your hot girlfriend?’ she teased.

‘Had to delay,’ Kaz responded quickly, a touch of guilt creeping into his mind.

‘:(‘ came her disappointed reply.

‘Found someone to take you home?’ Kaz debated whether to send the message or not. Finally, he shrugged and decided to go for it. 'Fuck it,' he thought, 'it's just a text.'

Her response came swiftly, two messages popping up on his screen. ‘Still looking’ followed by ‘Want to step in? :)’

Kaz shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. ‘You wish,’ he typed back before tucking the broken phone back into his pocket.

Jesper, observing Kaz's exchange, couldn't resist teasing. “Who were you texting all smiling?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No one,” Kaz replied casually, attempting to maintain his usual composed facade. But Jesper's knowing look told him he wasn't fooling anyone.

“You're hiding something,” Jesper prodded, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Don't I always?” Kaz quipped, offering a crooked smile as he got up from the table.

Jesper chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as Kaz walked away. They both understood that tonight's laughter and camaraderie were brief respites from their respective troubles. Tomorrow, Kaz would face the reality of Inej's absence once more, and y/n would continue navigating her own tumultuous world. But for now, amidst the clinking of glasses and the dim lights of the Crow Club, they found solace in each other's company and the fleeting escape that alcohol provided.

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