#he’s better at 40 than he was at 20 you guys i mean

[nichtaufgewacht]

You would not believe your eyes

How a voice could hypnotize.

[steddielations]

- nsfw, age gap, rockstar Eddie, drummer steve

Eddie should not be wearing a plug here.

It’s stupid. It’s reckless. But that inner voice that led to decades of being stupid and reckless says it’s fine, it’s just for Eddie. Steve doesn’t have to know, unless he wants to find out.

It really is just for Eddie. It’s more for confidence than kink. It’s a trick he learned back when he was still getting comfortable on stage, back when he could still handle the fast life. Started way back when he was a teenager, dear old dad made sure to turn his talent into cold hard cash.

Now here Eddie is, way too many years of coping with drugs and never any therapy later, retired rockstar doing the whole studio owner mentoring baby rockstars thing. Someone’s gotta keep rock and roll alive so long as Eddie’s still kicking.

So the first thing that comes with years of being stone cold sober is realizing he spent too much time on the road and in the closet, not enough time growing roots so he’d have someone to settle down with when he stopped being so afraid of it.

The second thing is a dick that doesn’t work half the time because maybe if someone told him doing drugs would land him limp-dick at 40, he would’ve stopped sooner. The third thing is that he’s going to die alone with his floppy dick and trust issues.

So with the wild life Eddie lives nowadays, it’s no surprise that a couple smiles and smooth words from a good looking young drummer sent him into a spiral.

Steve’s a session musician, an independent guy that looked good on paper and even better in person. He’s got more heart and grit than the last few ‘frontmans’ Eddie tried to get something real out of. Steve knows it too, the way everyone does at 28.

He’s got the same cockiness in his skills as Eddie, but he knows he’s more than just his skills in a way that Eddie wishes he could’ve known at that age. He’s confident enough to make his own suggestions to Eddie, calls him old fashioned and he’s smooth about it, strikes up debates about music and he’s fucking sassy about it.

Eddie’s gotta be under some kinda spell to be considering Springsteen is one of the greats like Steve insists.

It’s not just because Steve’s younger, there’s always been girls much younger than late 20s trying to get with him for his name, status, money. Bless their hearts, maybe if he was still 20 years deep in the closet. It’s not just because Steve’s a guy either, there’s plenty of young guys now that dare to bat their eyes and call him Daddy and want to get fucked.

No, it’s because Steve’s different. The opposite, even.

Eddie slips up and calls him sweetheart once and it’s like Steve was just waiting to open that door and let every babe and handsome and honey slip out from his lips.

He notices Eddie checking out his biceps as he’s banging away on the drums once and sends him a wink that nearly makes him flatline.

He’s not intimidated to get in Eddie’s space. He has no reason to ever be in the control room, but Eddie doesn’t question it when Steve’s close, leaning over him with a warm hand pressed to the small of his back for one second. Eddie’s so hot faced and flustered that he gets his long hair caught in some of the board switches.

“Fuck, fucking, god damn it,” Eddie curses, tangling it even more trying to yank it free and vowing to chop it all off later.

“It’s alright, here, let's get you sorted out.” Steve’s steady hand closes over Eddie’s, gentle and warm as he eases the lock of hair free. Eddie’s breath lodges in his throat when Steve reaches up, fingers brushing Eddie’s face as he combs through his long silver streaked waves and says, “Don’t ever cut your hair. I love it too much.”

God. Steve makes Eddie feel like he’s a pretty young thing getting moves put on him in the kinda club that he was always too famous, too busy and too afraid to go to at that age.

It can’t be real. Steve can’t be serious. Eddie’s mean. Bitter. He talks shit about everyone and everything. He’s nothing without a guitar. He’s got the prickly rind of daddy issues and doesn’t even have Wayne to make it better anymore. The whole world adoring him all his life only fed his ego. He’s worth millions of dollars and feels like nothing most days. His only real friends are his bandmates that he doesn’t call often enough because they love each other, but they’re sick of each other, being stuck together all those years.

Surely, Steve’s just bored and playing with him. Eddie needs a kick of confidence to deal with it until Steve’s contract ends and he’s done playing with Eddie.

So that’s why Eddie’s got a plug up his ass at the studio. At work, technically.

It helps. It gives him all the inner fire he needs to ignore when he feels Steve’s eyes burning into him, and push his hand through his hair that Steve loves, and sway his hips as Steve’s gaze follows him walking out to the bathroom.

Oh yeah, Eddie’s still got it.

And he has to piss. Really bad. His bladder just ain’t what it used to be and when he’s gotta go, he’s gotta go and for whatever reason, he can’t do it with the plug inside him.

Eddie’s locked in a stall so he doesn’t hesitate to undo his belt and reach inside to pull it out. He holds it while he uses the toilet, so distracted sighing in relief like such an old man that he doesn’t realize how lube-slippery the thing is.

It’s too late. He drops his plug and it rolls out from under the stall just as the bathroom door opens and shuts slowly.

Then Eddie feels both relief and panic when it’s Steve’s voice that asks, “Eddie, did you drop something, honey?”

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 

But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 

— And she wasn’t? 

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 

— No. 

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 

The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay? 

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 

— No. Just coffee. 

— Sugar? 

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 

— Ja. Thank you. 

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 

— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 

You still want to ruffle his hair. 

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 

— Nein, thank you. 

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it. 

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 

— Don’t wander at night again. 

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 

— I won’t. Promise. 

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

Please write if you want to be tagged in the next chapter!

[katerinaaqu]

So how old is Odysseus exactly?

A small Odysseus age analysis based on a description in the Iliad

Many make speculations of his age, me included. Interestingly we have several hints in both art and the scripts but is hard to pinpoint. In general Odysseus is considered old or one of the oldest generations among the poems.

In art he is always depicted bearded which is something only men in maturity have in ancient greek art (somewhere between the late 20s early 30s) and his beard is full indicating that he is at least in his 30s. Most art of his, ranges from the events of the Trojan war till his journey and the murder of the suitors. In all cases we see him having a full beard. So it is pretty hard to determine his age but we know he was at least 30 in the war making him at his final 40s or early 50s when he comes back home depending on interpretation.

In the Iliad in the 23rd rhapsody/book we have an interesting description by Antilochus

"And this one (Odysseus) is of an earlier/previous generation of earlier men; we call him "omogeronda" (early-old man, green old age); yet he is really hard to be competed against in speed (lit: his feet are troublesome to compete) by the Achaeans, except from Achilles"

For starters he clearly states that he is "one generation older" (προτέρης γενεής) but he also calls him with the interesting word "ωμογέρων" which means "raw old man" literally aka "not ripe old age". The word has two possible interpretations; one that he is a "green old man" aka he just began to grow older or to pass to old age and two "a vigorous and lively old man" 😉

Now it could be a tender nickname that they call him "old" but I think the first interpretation fits better to the description. So we know that Odysseus was already mature man when he entered the war (bearded=somewhere in his early 30s and above) and he spent 10 years in the war. We know that he is "one generation older".

The age of marriage differs in ancient greece (for example in 5th century BC Athens, 300 years after Homer's time and almost 1000 years after the time Trojan war took place, the age of marriage for men ideally was 30 years old when they had served their dues although it is unclear how often it was being done this way) but we are to expect that a man in his middle 20s was expected to have at least considered marriage if not already have a spouse and kids. So if Odysseus is "one generation older" on average he is around 20 years older than younger individuals (anywhere between 15-20 years could be closer) such as Diomedes or Antilochus here or Aias. Nestor who was considered an old man was in his 60s. He was still active on the field just not the same way as characters like Odysseus were.

Given the characterization "ωμογέρων" in the Odyssey and the description of him being a generation older than many young heroes I should calculate Odysseus is in the same age group as people like Agamemnon, making him older than other characters like Patroclus who was also generally older (closer to his early or even middle 30s if we assume that Achilles who was repeatedly said to be very young he was in his middle to final 20s during the war). That would make Odysseus a middle aged man and therefore closer in his 40s at the final year of the Trojan war.

My rough estimation is that he is in his early or mid-40s when this conversation takes place. He is middle-aged and yet he is vigorous, sportive and fast (so much so that only Achilles is said to be easily competing against him while most achaeans have hard time to), he is also strong given the many times his strength in spear, sword or bow were praised but at the same time he is obviously past the age of youth. That would make him in his early 50s at least when he arrives in Ithaca.

But what do you guys think? Agree or disagree let me know to the comments below! ^_^

[secretly-tumb1r]

Roadtrip - hotch x reader part 2

part one

summary: when hotch finally sheds his stubbornness, he decides to drive back to Quantico from New York, in an attempt to rest his punctured eardrum. You couldn’t leave him without company, so you join him.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (hotch in his late 40s reader in her late 20s), unprotected sex (p in v) oral (fem receiving), no mentions of haley

a/u: thank you guys so much for the support on the first part of this, you’re all so so sweet💞 i truly hope you enjoy this part too💞 xoxo

masterlist

You’ve kissed people before, but never like Aaron. It was almost like you had been starved of his taste, and him of yours. The kiss was so rough and angry, angry at the fact you didn’t do this earlier. If you knew it would be this good, you would’ve jumped his bones the minute you saw him.

There was no doubt he was more experienced than you, he was a lot older too, but right now, you were both just as starved and as messy and impatient as the other.

The kiss was so impactful, you could feel your arousal start to pool in your panties. Looking for any sort of relief, you start grinding on his crotch, giving you easy access to it since you were straddling him while he was laying down. You could feel him get harder by the second and that only made you moan in his mouth.

He gently bit your lower lip as he moved down to kiss your jawline and lower to your neck, finding that sweet spot that made you arch your back and drop your jaw in a silent moan.

His lips explored your body as they reached your covered breasts. Big hands cupped both your tits as both index and thumb fingers pinched and rolled your nipples.

“fuck a-aaron”

“i know baby i know”

“please please” you were a moaning mess above him. He flipped you on your back so now he was on top of you, a coy smirk plastered on his face.

“what is it baby hm? cmon use your words sweetie”

the pet names made you wetter (if that was even possible) you needed him now.

“please f-fuck me aaron”

he chuckled deeply, laughing at how desperate you were. His hands moved down from your breasts to your lower stomach. He lowered himself on the bed on his stomach as he began to kiss your inner thighs.

“awh poor baby” he rubbed a finger on your clothed cunt, arousal seeping through it. “so wet” he looks mesmerised by your glossy panties. “all this for me huh baby?” you shook your head frantically and moaned, giving him the answer he wanted.

“don’t worry sweetie i’ll make it better” his big fingers hooked around the hem of your panties as he ripped them off in a sudden movement, the cool air hitting your weeping cunt, making you clench around nothing.

He pecked your swollen clit, and looked up in your eyes to see your reaction. Your head was thrown back, your hair messy. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead, your body already so hot even thought nothing had happened yet.

He ran his tongue up and down your slit, gaining a hiss from your throat. He groaned. “fuck honey, you taste amazing” He started flicking his tongue up and down, he was a starved man and this was his last mean. Suddenly he put his finger up to your lips “suck” you gladly took it in and swirled your tongue around the tip of his finger, he let out a shaky breath as your spit coated his finger. He took it out your mouth with a ‘pop’ and teased your entrance.

Just as you were about to complain he he inserted his finger in your cunt, knuckles deep. His fingers were far bigger from yours giving you a pleasure you were never able to give yourself.

“you think you can take another one baby?” you nodded frantically and a low chuckle escaped him. He stretched you open when he added another finger, pleasure building deep inside your stomach.

His head lowered to suck on your clit, his touch was addictive. “fuck- ‘m close!” he started to pump his fingers faster as he looked up at you making eye contact. He looked too pretty between your legs, hair messed up and nose up aganist your pelvic bone. You could come just at the sight. Your hand flew to his hair as you started grinding on his face. Suddenly you felt it. You let go all over his face.

When he came up, his face looked delicious soaked in your arousal. He licked his lips and fingers clean as he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself, “please aaron need you inside” you managed to croak out between kisses.

Your hands flew to his pants button, undoing it quickly. “someone’s eager” he laughed and you could only moan.

You could see his bulge through his boxers, he looked so big.

Your mouth watered at the sight as you pulled down his boxers, his cock springing out proudly, leaking with pre cum.

“lay down baby” his gentle voice awakened something inside you, and you couldn’t help but do as he said.

His lips found your neck again as he aligned his tip with your entrance making you tense up. “relax honey” his hand started circling your nipple.

He finally thrusted into you, letting you accommodate to his size. He was massive, bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with.

He started to move, picking out his pace, slow but steady. “aaron- faster please” you pleaded.

“oh you like it rough huh?” he cocked his eyebrow up. He flips you on your stomach pressing his large hand on your lower back to make your back arch.

You were a moaning mess. He rammed his cock in your pussy at an ungodly pace, hitting that spongy spot inside that made you mewl.

Aaron wasn’t the one to come quickly, but your sweet noises accompanied by the noises your sweet pussy was making around his cock was like a symphony, music to his ears.

His hands dug into your hips so hard he was sure it would leave marks. He wanted that. He wanted to mask you as his.

His strong hand moved to your front where he started circling your clit making you moan even louder.

“fu- aaron yes god! i’m gonna c-“ you interrupted yourself with pornographic moans.

“cmon baby let it go, make a mess on my cock.”

that was all you needed. You were sure you’d never had a better orgasm before, your pussy clenched around his cock making him cross the finish line too, you could feel thick spurts of come pairing your walls.

Aaron pulled out mesmerised by the mixture of your cums together. Two of his fingers collected the dripping come and pushing it back inside, groaning loudly. The overstimulation make you whinge.

After Aaron had cleaned you up and made you go to the bathroom (reid had told him about the dangers of utis after sex), you found yourselves cuddled in eachothers arms.

Your soft breathing acting like a sleeping pill for Aaron, and he was sure this was the best nights sleep he’s had in a while.

It became a problem that he tasted you because now he would never let you go.

OH MY GOD GUYS!! this was so hard to write😭 i love reading smut but writing it, not so much!! i gross myself out💔 HOPE YOU LOVED THIS PART please lmk down in the comments I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCHHH💞💞 xoxo

@mrs-ssa-hotch

[larluce]

If all the Arthurs I created met each other

There's already a post with my Merlins meeting too here ➡︎ LINK

Arthur from "The Dragonlord's son series"🐉: I'm just saying, my Merlin is better than yours.

Arthur from my "Merlin as a familiar/shapeshifter falcon AU" 🦅: No, mine is better! He can shapeshift!

Arthur from my "Time travel AU" 🕐: (laughs) They all can shapeshift, boy. Don't believe yourself special.

Arthur 🦅: Don't call me boy! I'm 18! 😡

Arthur 🐉: So? We're in our 20's (pointing himself and Arthur🕐). We're older than you.

Arthur 🕐: I'm actually 40.

Arthur 🐉: What?!😨 But you don't look like 40.

Arthur 🕐: Well no, my body is 20 but my mind is 40. It's a long story.

12 year old Arthur from "From the grave to the cradle" ⛏️: (enters) Sorry, I was milking the cows. What did I miss?

Arthur 🦅: (pointing at Arthur ⛏️) See! That's a boy! (happy) I'm not the youngest anymore! Wait... (looks at Arthur ⛏️, confused) Did you say "milking the cows"?

Arthur ⛏️: Yes, I'm a farmer.

Arthur 🐉, Arthur 🦅 and Arthur 🕐: (shout, very surprised) A FARMER?!😱

Arthur ⛏️: (defensively, crossing his arms) Yes, and I'm very proud of it! 😠 What are you anyway?

Arthur 🐉: The prince.

Arthur 🦅: Me too.

Arthur 🕐: We're all princes, little one.

Arthur ⛏️: (shocked) I'm the only one who isn't royalty? (pouts) Awww, that's not fair. ☹️

Arthur 🐉: (kind of sad) Wait, does this mean Merlin is never going to be your servant?

Arthur ⛏️: (shouts, escandalised) Merlin is your servant?! 😨

Arthur 🐉: (relieved) Oh, so you do know each other. Good.

Arthur ⛏️: It is not!😠 How can you have your friend as your servant? That's horrible!

Arthur 🦅: Well, tecnically, in my case he isn't my servant, he's my pet.

Arthur ⛏️: WHAT?! 😱😡

Arthur 🦅: I mean... half-animal friend companion? 😅

Arthur 🕐: (To Arthur 🦅) You're not helping your case. (To Arthur ⛏️) I'm really curious, how did you became friends with Merlin?

Arthur ⛏️: (smiles) Oh, we've been friends since forever. We live in the same village.

Arthur 🕐: Which is?

Arthur ⛏️: Ealdor.

Arthur 🕐: (realising what happened to this Arthur) Oh, boy...

Arthur 🦅: (still confused) But... but you're from Camelot.

Arthur ⛏️: (ofended) No! I'm from Essetir. I would never associate with the likes from Camelot. They kill people like Merlin for sport! They are murderers!

Arthur 🐉: (starting to understand, increasingly disturbed) Arthur... Who are your parents?

Arthur ⛏️: Hector and Adeline from Ealdor, why?

Arthur 🦅: Those are not-

Arthur 🕐: (covers Arthur 🦅 mouth quickly)

Arthur ⛏️: (a little sad) I know they are not really my parents, but they adopted me when the real ones abandoned me as a baby. So I love them as if they were. (smiles brigthly) I wouldn't change them for anything, even if they are not royalty as yours. So the king of Essetir adopted you instead? That's so cool! Even if you have your friends as your servants.😊

Arthur 🐉: ...

Arthur 🕐: ...

Arthur 🦅: I'm going to tell him.

Arthur 🐉 and Arthur 🕐: Don't you dare! 😡

....

I reached 300 followers today, guys! Thank you so much! 🤧 I love you all 💕

[sanjisboyfie]

one piece smau: dating nami edition

ー modern au!!, male reader <3

ー slightest nsfw mentioning??? only if u squint tho m

ー matching usernames hit once again 😋🫶🏼

liked by namis.bf, robinkills, and 11k others

ihaveabf: if ur bf isnt doing it like mine, i got news for u - GET UP AND FIND SOMEONE TO TREAT U BETTER

tagged: namisbf

namis.bf: anything for u my love <3

-> ihaveabf: hurry up n come home the kids miss you ‼️‼️

princesanji: nami my queen u can do better than him (me)

-> uso_pp: HOMEWRECKKKERRRRRR

[liked by ihaveabf, namis.bf, and 20 others]

vivi: seriously where did u find him?

-> ihaveabf: no idea but im so lucky

robinkills: i love u two

[liked by ihaveabf, namis.bf, and 30 others]

liked my ihaveabf, freeluffy, and 7k others

namis.bf: i love love love love my wifey shes so beautiful

tagged: ihaveabf

ihaveabf: pls dont tag me in these photos i literally have a boyfriend ??? what is ur issue

-> namis.bf: can he fight??

-> ihaveabf: most definitely

freeluffy: WHEN DID U GUYS GET MARRIED :000 WHY WASNT I INVITED

-> namis.bf: we didnt get married luffy, its just a figure of speech 🫶🏼

-> freeluffy: OHHH ... SO WHEN R U GONNA GET MARRIED ????!??!?

[liked by ihaveabf]

uso_pp: i hate having my two best friends date each other cuz then i get constantly reminded - i cant have peace no more

[liked by roro.zoro, princesanji, and 10 others]

liked by namis.bf, princesanji, and 14k others

ihaveabf: targetted at the men in my dms....can u not read my username tf

tagged: namis.bf

random-man: i can treat u better bby

-> namis.bf: i have ur location pulled up on my laptop, gerald. donnttt tesstt me

[liked by ihaveabf, dr.law, robinkills and 400 others]

namis.bf: im literally on my way right now please

namis.bf: SHES SO FINE GODDDDDDDDDDDDDD

namis.bf: can i pleasepleaspelease take u to meet myparents they need to meet their daughter in law

-> SUPERCOLA: man calm down i dont think she goin anywhere

-> namis.bf: i cant help the love i have for her u dont hnderstand

random.man2: im a better man than he is i can promise u that

-> ihaveabf: i highly doubt this

-> uso_pp: plsss try him rn i havent seen a fight in so long!!!!

[liked my namis.bf, robinkills, and 37 others]

liked by uso_pp, boahancock, and 10k others

namis.bf: alexa play all mine by brent faiyaz 🍊

tagged: ihaveabf

ihaveabf: my hubby is so hot

-> namis.gf: credits to my girlfriend

[liked by ihaveabf and 500 others]

roro.zoro: can u guys jus hurry up we r waiting for u to start the movie

-> namis.bf: alr mr grumpy pants we r ltr five mins away

-> uso_pp: we've been waiting for an hour and youve said u were five mins away for the past 30 minutes.

-> ihaveabf: my baddddd

-> uso_pp: WHAT DO U MEAN BY THIS?????

liked by ihaveabf, namis.bf, and 10k others

princesanji: beautiful nami looking as gorgeous as ever 😍😍😍 and then her stinky ass bf looking like a slob.

uso_pp: this is so fucking funny bc why is he dressed like that 😭😭😭

[liked by robinkills, vivi, and 40 others]

namis.bf: THE ONE TIME IM LACKING OFC THIS BOZO GETS A PHOTO 🙄

-> ihaveabf: its okay bby ... even if this is super embarassing for u i still love u

-> namis.bf: I DO NOT THINK THIS IS HELPING ME RN

-> SUPERCOLA: LMFOAOA

freeluffy: wow!!! [name] is dressed rlly bad!!!

-> namis.bf: LUFFY STOP

-> roro.zoro: yk its bad when this idiot says summ

[liked by uso_pp and 70 others]

namis.bf: hold up, namis hair is black here which means this photo is old as fuck .... HOW LONG WERE U WAITING TO POST THIS JUS TO MAKE ME LOOK BAD SANJI!?!!

-> princesanji: im always waiting to make u look bad. this isnt even the worst.

-> namis.bf: ????????

-> uso_pp: bros mysterious

ihaveabf's story

even if he doesnt always showout hes still the most handsome man in the world

namis.bf replied: ur fuckin w me 😭😭 ily2 ig

[dokoni-mo]

Crave: Part Seven || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: the honeymoon

mild NSFW

word count: 5177

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, sir kink, smoking, sensual touching, dirty fantasies, praise, lying, erections, dirty fantasies, kissing, allusions to past unhealthy relationships

minors dni // please read warnings !!

part one // two // three // four // five // six

a/n: helloooo everyone!! welcome back!! thank you for all the support thus far, it really means a lot!! this chapter was originally going to have MULTIPLE parts, but that's gonna be saved for part 8!! just so i don't overload you guys :)) taglist is still open, enjoy!!

~~~

The car ride to the hotel was much quieter than William expected. But he found it hard to care.

It hadn't been quiet because it was awkward or boing, no. That wasn't it at all. It was only quiet because you really had ended up falling asleep during the ride. Despite professing earlier how good you were at staying up. For the brief bit of time you had stayed awake, you were actually a lot chattier than William anticipated. He hadn't even noticed you nodding off until he asked you something, but didn't get a response. He had glanced over to see if you were okay, and found you slumped against the window, pretty little eyes closed with pretty little parted lips.

It was adorable.

Though he did want to spend the few hour long car ride talking to you more, William could never be disappointed by watching you sleep. You were just so adorable and peaceful when you did. His sleepy baby bunny. He was glad you felt safe enough around him to let your guard down like that. Not that he was a danger to you, of course not. It was just... nice. To see you in such a relaxed state.

Almost as nice as how your thighs felt.

William had gotten most accustomed to them during the trip. His right hand never left your soft flesh the whole way there. He would rub soft, loving circles against your knee every now and again, despite knowing that you wouldn't feel them. At least, not now. When he first put his hand there when you were awake, you definitely felt them. He could see it in the way the heat rose to your face, despite you not saying anything about it.

It made him smile.

Sweet little rabbit. No need to be shy around him. Not anymore, not after what the two of you had been through. As adorable as it was, you didn't need to have any shame around him, sweet thing. William loved every part of you and every version of you to bits. There's nothing you could do to embarrass yourself around him.

Perhaps you'd learn that by the end of the trip.

In the spirit to not living up to Mr. Afton's expectations, the hotel was a bit of a surprise as well. William knew that the place was secluded, but damn. There was hardly anyone there. From the looks of it, and the few other cars parked in the lot, there was only one or two other sets of people, not including the staff. But the staff seemed to only account for about three more people.

Not that William cared. The emptier, the better for you and him. That just meant that he could waltz you around the place even more so than he anticipated. The brit wasn't clueless. He knew how it'd look to outsiders. And older man with pretty little you on his hip. It's not that he gave a shit about it. William didn't give a fuck. He was just worried how you'd react. To peoples judgmental stares, the potential looks you would get and the comments. He hoped you wouldn't be insecure about it, if you caught onto it and/or cared. William knew that you were somewhat sensitive. If it caught you at the wrong time, you'd be a little insecure about it. And that was the last thing he wanted this week. For you to feel anything other than loved and cherished and confident. Because you were all of those things to him. All of them and more.

So, so much more.

Keep it together, William. Deal with it as it comes. Worrying about it now isn't gonna solve anything. Just focus on your little bunny. They're all that matters.

To let you sleep a little bit longer, William left you in the car with your door locked while he checked in for the both of you, and while he lugged all the bags up to the room. The hotel was one of those old-school ones with the doors facing the outside, with a dingy concrete staircase connecting the ground to the second level. The room was fortunately near the stairs, so it wasn't too hard for the brit to carry it all up there by himself.

Not that he'd ask you for help with it. But, still. Cut him some slack.

Once he was done getting everything prepared, he was finally ready to wake you up. He had turned off his car before unlocking your side of the door, and you seemed to somewhat aware again just from the loss of the noise of the engine alone. It made him feel less bad about waking you up, but he still felt bad nonetheless.

Maybe that's what compelled him to carry you up the stairs, and not take no for an answer.

"Will, please, you don't gotta do this if you don't wanna. I can walk just fine by myself!" You had mumbled into his shoulder, gripping onto the front of his sweater-vest for dear life. William's hold on you was more than secure, in a nice bridal-style fashion, but you were still a little freaked out by it. Didn't like heights, he figured.

William chuckled at your little plea. Who knew you'd still be this cute when you were scared?

How interesting.

"Bunny, I told you already, love." He responded to you, giving you a quick kiss to your cheek, "Consider this my apology for disturbing your little nap, yeah?"

He saw how you peeked over the edge of the stairs, your fingers digging further in the plush cotton of his sweater, "A-Apology accepted! Okay, you can put me do-"

"No can do, bunny. We're not even to our room yet, silly."

"William!"

The brit chuckled again and pressed another kiss to your cheek as he reached the top of the stairs. The grip you had on his vest finally released as you breathed a silent sigh of relief. The older man could feel your heartbeat slowly start to settle down.

"See, love?" He said, "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"No. It was somehow worse than I imagined."

"I thought you liked being carried."

"I do! But not on a tiny little staircase so high up!"

William laughed at your protests, "Fine, fine. Noted that my bunny doesn't like heights. Come on now, love. Hold on tight, yeah?"

You gave him a little nod as you leaned up a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest close to his. William could feel your heartbeat even clearer now as he shifted your weight to his left arm, supporting you with just the one limb while he used his spare to open the door. Once it was open, he returned to holding you with both arms as he stepped inside, kicking the door closed behind him. In his peripheral, William could see how you turned in his arms so that you could get a better look at the room.

For it being such an old hotel, it was actually rather nice. At least, the furniture was. The room itself (that being the walls, ceiling, and floors) was most definitely dated. But, anyone could tell that the hotel owners made at least some attempt to spruce up the place. There was plenty of well-placed art on the walls, and lots of lamps for mood-lighting. The bulbs were warm-toned too, giving the place more of a home-away-from-home feeling. There were fake plants as well, but the fakeness didn't take away from the charm. The bed looked soft, not plain and hard like a normal hotel bed. The white sheets were fitted with green accents that matched the aesthetic of the room, with lots of pillows and extra blankets. The phone on the bedside table looked fairly new as well. Not even a rotary one. Classy.

Looking around a bit more, it looked like William already took the liberty to unpack just a little bit. Some of his nicer clothes were hanging up in the closet, revealed by the slightly ajar door. Your toiletry bag was no where in sight, so it seemed like he took it into the bathroom already along with his. Nonetheless, both of your suit cases were neatly placed at the foot of the bed, waiting to be used.

It was cozy. And cute. Not anything like the Four Seasons or Ceasar's Palace, but it was cute. Had charm to it. A nice get away for a quick whim. Perfect for your purposes.

William had been studying your face as you looked around the room, a small smile on his lips as he studied your features. He liked being this close to you. Holding you close like this.

"What do you think, bunny?" He asked, after a brief pause, "Do you like it?"

You tore your gaze away from the expanse of the room, smiling at him with a little nod, "I do. It's, like, cozy. And a good size."

"It is, isn't it?" He leaned in closer to you, giving your lips a quick peck, "Do you know what the best part is, though?"

"What?"

William's smirk grew just a hair, "It's all ours. And we are completely and utterly alone."

You giggled at the brit's sentiment, "You were thinking of that line the whole ride here, weren't you?"

"Is it a crime if I was?"

"No, no. It's cute."

"Not nearly as adorable as you, my baby bunny."

As your giggles filled the room again, William leaned in closer to you, capturing your sweet lips into a kiss. He pulled your body closer to his as he walked you over to the bed, your arms still firmly around his scarred neck. The kiss was starting to deepen as he gently laid you down on the hotel bed, but the older man had to pull away. But only just long enough for him to climb on top of you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist with ease.

Once he was steady, William dipped his head down to kiss you again, but didn't stay there as long as before. Instead, he tilted his head down more so that he was greeted with your neck. The hickies he gave you earlier were just starting to form, but where dark enough to where he could see them. He made sure to find new spots on his bunny's skin to latch on to, giving you soft, sweet, and reassuring little pecks in between.

Your fingers found their home in his hair right as he was laying the third bruise into your flesh, soft groans escaping past your throat every now and again. William's left hand was starting to wander past its original spot near your head, making its way down your chest and stomach to your hips and waist. You could feel his calloused fingers rub gentle circles into your skin every now and again.

"Mmmph," You groaned quietly, the brit already working on the fourth mark for you to adorn, "Will... I missed you."

William let out a low chuckle, the bass of which vibrating gently against your neck muscles, and even in the middle of your chest.

"Sweet bunny," he whispered to you, peppering your jaw with a few short, soft kisses, "I missed you too, my darling. So so much."

His hand was palming the hem of your shirt now, his fingers slipping just past the cloth. William could feel his pants growing tighter as he nipped at your collarbones, hoping to elicit more of his cute bunny's sweet sounds out.

Your little fingers slipped out of his hair, sliding down to his shoulders instead, "It's embarrassing but... I couldn't stop thinking about you. I just... I wanted you."

William had to choke back a deep, low groan as he stopped his kisses to look at you, sitting up so he could look down at your blushy face. He could feel how devilish his smirk was as he looked into your half-lidded, sweet little eyes. His fingers were slowly sliding up under your shirt now, ghosting over the soft, smooth skin of your waist and tummy. He wondered if you could already feel his hard-on, because damn did he fucking feel it.

Precious bunny. His sweet baby rabbit.

You liked riling him up like that, didn't you?

"Did you now?" He teased you, raising one his brows as he stared right into your eyes.

He could see how your cheeks heated up even further as you nodded, much to his dismay. He tutted your actions, stopping the smooth, loving strokes of his fingers under your shirt.

"Silly bunny," he said, just loud enough so you could hear, "Don't tell me you forgot already. I need to hear your words, darling. Remember?"

You nodded again, "R-Right, yeah... I'm sorry."

"There's my good bunny. Now, let's try that again, alright?"

"Yes sir."

William had to choke back another groan, "Did you really miss me that much, little one?"

"I did... Yes sir. I missed you so much..."

A deep, low hum escaped the back of the brit's throat as his smirk regrew, his fingers under your shirt resuming their movements.

"Oh, my baby bunny." He hummed, "If only you knew just how much I missed you too."

William leaned down to you again, peppering your jaw with kisses as he whispered in your ear.

"Let's make up for some lost time then, yeah?" He said, "Would you like sir's help with that, little rabbit? Since you missed him that much?"

You couldn't help but let out a little whine, "Y-Yes, sir. Please..."

A low chuckle escaped past the brit's lips, "Good bunny. Now, just relax, yeah? Let me take care of you."

Giving your sweet, puffy lips one last quick kiss, William shifted downwards towards your stomach, gently pushing up your shirt on the way down. Now exposed to your belly underneath, William's hands found their home on either side of your hips as he pressed his kisses into the skin, holding you squarely in place. The older man could hear your soft whines as his hands shifted down to the hem of your pants, biting small little red marks into your skin. He could tell that you were getting antsy, from the way your legs would twitch every now and again beside him.

It was adorable. You were so so cute. He loved you so fucking much. This was only the second time, and you still wanted him this much? Fucking god. It made him so hard just thinking about it.

His kisses were starting to go lower now, his half-lidded stormy grey eyes stealing glances up at your face every now and again.

"Someone's a little impatient this afternoon it seems." He teased you with another smirk, making you whine again.

"I-I'm sorry," you squeaked, "I can't help it..."

William chuckled again, "There's no need to apologize, love. I-"

Before William could finish his sentence, he was rudely interrupted by a low yet loud grumbling noise that cut through the silence of the room. A little confused, the brit sat up a little more to get a better look at your face. Your eyes were wide with your face beet-red, your lips in a thin, long line.

"Was..." he said, "Bunny, was that you?"

You nodded after a brief pause, letting out an embarrassed groan as you hid your face in your hands.

"Yesss," you hissed, "I'm sorry! I'm just really damn hungry. I haven't had anything since, like... yesterday or something."

William shifted his weight around to sit a little more comfortably, his brow knitting in concern, "Love, why didn't you tell me? You know that's not good for you."

You removed your hands from your face, but your gaze faltered a little, "Because! I-I thought I could make it to dinner, and... I liked where this was going..."

The older man couldn't help but breathe out a tiny laugh, leaning back up from his place on the bed to sit in front of you. He took your cheek into his palm and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"I'm certainly a fan as well," He said to you, rubbing soft, reassuring circles to your face, "But I can't have my baby bunny going hungry now, can I?"

"I-I'll be fine! I promise..."

William tutted you again, but this time not as teasingly, "No, no, love. These sorts of things come before, yeah? You need to keep up your energy, little one. And I want my bunny to be healthy, right? And happy?"

"Yeah..."

He leaned in to give you another kiss, "Exactly. Now how about we go and find you something to eat, alright?"

Your gaze dropped down to the side as you gave him another nod, placing your little hand on top of his own that was still nestled on your face, "I'm sorry... I totally killed the mood."

The brit shushed you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, then another one to your lips.

"You didn't kill anything, love," he said, "Don't apologize. Your health and needs always come first. Besides, we have a whole week together, yeah?"

William saw your little smile creep back into the corners of your mouth, "Yeah."

"Exactly, love. So don't feel sorry for anything. It's alright. Sir isn't going to go anywhere, alright? Let's just find you a little something first. You'll need it for if you want to continue this later."

~~~

Fortunately for William, he didn't have to search too far to find you something to eat. The hotel had a small deli offset from the main lobby, and it looked decent. He didn't feel too uncomfortable with having you get something from there, since it looked clean and fresh enough for his standards. He didn't want you eating some sort of junk, not if he couldn't help it.

You were better than that.

The sun had started to creep down the horizon when the two of you entered the deli. William didn't think that he had kept you in the room for that long, but turns out he did. That was fine though, he certainly did enjoy the short bit of fun the two of you had. Sure it didn't go all the way, but it was more than fine. It was only day one of seven, there'd be plenty of time for him to play with his bunny later. What was important now was keeping you fed. So you didn't keel over in the middle of him having his fun with you, and (more importantly) so he was doing a good job of taking care of you. Like he promised.

William didn't much feel like interacting with the people working behind the counter, so he stayed behind while you ordered for yourself. Of course, he kept you within his sight while you did, but you seemed to be doing fine. You had a little bit of social anxiety, but it was manageable. His bunny was capable. And you seemed braver with him around. Perhaps you unconsciously knew that he'd swoop in to save you, if you ran into trouble.

Of course he would. He promised that to you, too. He was your hero.

The brit was standing next to the entrance door while he watched you order, feeling the low Utah sun creeping down his back through the window. Thankfully it was a smoking zone, so he was able to enjoy a cigarette for the time being. Far enough away from you to keep you from breathing in the second-hand smoke, but not far away to where he had to be away from you. A win-win.

The older man took a puff from his cigarette as he watched you walked up to the register. He had given you his wallet to pay for your food, and it seemed like they weren't having any issue with you using a credit card that didn't have your name on it.

Not that they would, but still. He was a bit paranoid when it came to his bunny.

After double checking that you were okay, William turned around and put his free hand in his pocket, looking out the window to the scenery outside.

He had to admit; the location of the hotel was actually quite nice. For Utah, anyway. There were lots of nice trees and wildflowers, and a cool breeze that liked to roll through frequently. It was much better looking than he had remembered. When coming here with his family long ago, he remembered it quite differently. More drab and grey, not nearly as much color as he was looking at. Perhaps it was just because of the different contexts. When his family still all lived together under the same roof, it was one of the most depressing times he remembers in his life. So fucking boring. And a non-stop headache of three children constantly screaming, crying, and running around. With that bitch always nagging him to pay attention to her and the children, like he gave a damn about any of them.

William took a long, drawn out inhale of the nicotine.

God. He did not fucking miss that.

But, with you, it was so much better. You were a thousand times better than his family ever was. You weren't fucking annoying, for one, and you weren't loud either. You were soft and quiet, and sweet and caring. And you were very much in love with him, much like how he was in love with you. You were smarter than any of his family was, and it didn't feel painful to have to explain things to you. When you listened, you actually listened, and cared about what he had to say. Giving you kisses and other forms of affection didn't feel like a chore. He was happy to do it because he wanted to do it. He couldn't get enough of your body next to his. Much different from what he felt for his ex and the little brats he made with her.

That was the biggest difference, he figured. William loved you, and you reciprocated. He never fucking loved his family. Not even for a moment.

He was glad to be so close to never having to speak to them again.

Taking a quick glance over his shoulder to you, William made sure you were still okay as he tamped out some of the ash from the cigarette. Once he had his confirmation, William shifted his gaze back out the window, inhaling another puff of nicotine.

His eyes were scanning over the few cars that were in the parking lot this time as he stared out the window. Not that he was that into cars, but he did think a few were good to look at. There was of course his own, which was probably the most expensive that parking lot had ever seen. There was a few other nice cars, but not much to bat an eye at. A green ford. A blue Volkswagen. A red convertible. A...

...

Wait.

William blinked his eyes to try and readjust his vision. Not that he had much issues with his sight, but surely he had caught something in there. He even went to the extra measure to rub them with his free hand. He opened his eyes again to scan the parking lot again.

He felt a snap of cold wash over him.

No.

God please fucking no.

There was no fucking way. He had to be seeing shit. He had to be. He knew that fucking red car. He knew it all too well. Even though the last time he saw it was-

"Will?"

William nearly flinched as he heard your soft voice behind him, turning around a bit too quickly at the sound. Smoke was still pluming out of his cigarette, and he could feel his grey eyes were a bit wider than they should've been. You didn't seem to notice, though, or at least didn't care. You were smiling up at him so sweetly, holding up a brown paper bag to show him.

"I'm all done." You said, "I got you one too, I hope that's okay."

William gave you a little nod of approval, trying his best to reciprocate your smile, "Yes, that's fine, bunny. Thank you, that was very..."

The older man didn't finish his sentence, taking another hit of nicotine as he looked outside again.

It was gone.

Thank god it was fucking gone.

"Um, Will?" He heard you say, "Is everything okay?"

William dropped the remainder of his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it to put it out, turning back to you with the best smile he could muster. Fuck, was he sweating? He couldn't tell.

Keep it fucking together, William.

"Y-Yes, bunny, of course." He said, clearing his throat, "Sorry, I just lost my train of thought. Let's get back to the room, alright?"

Before you could agree, William grabbed you by the hand and nearly drug you out of the deli. He could hear a little cry of protest from his quick actions come from you, but he didn't pay attention to what it was.

All he was focused on was getting back to where it was safe. Before everything got fucked up.

~~~

The sun had rapidly started setting faster and faster once William got you back into the room. You seemed to be much hungrier than you had realized, since you hadn't said anything since you had sat at the corner of the bed with your sandwich in your hands, munching away without a care in the world. You had turned on the TV to some local news channel to have something to watch, your eyes glued to the screen as you ate.

William, however, hadn't joined you by your side. At least, not yet.

He was too occupied gazing out the windows every few seconds and pacing around the room, only broken up by him taking a seat in one of the chairs every couple of minutes. He hadn't said much since he got back from the deli, and he knew it. But he just... couldn't.

He couldn't remember the last time he was this paranoid.

He wanted to start smoking again, but not with you in the room. He wouldn't want you to breathe in the second hand smoke. Never. But fuck. Did he fucking want to.

It was a balancing act made in hell. Trying to be calm for you, but also quelling his own worries. He stood up for what felt like the 100th time that afternoon and pulled back the curtains, looking out to be greeted yet again with an empty, poorly-lit parking lot.

William felt his brow knit together. How the fuck would he have been found out this early? About you? About everything?

It didn't make any sense. Those idiots couldn't have found him out this fucking early on. He covered his tracks. He fucking lied where he had to. He planned every fucking thing town to the most minute detail. Dotted the i's. Crossed the t's. There was no way they got that smart. No fucking way.

But then why was that goddamned car outside?

William sighed to himself annoyedly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He was going to drive himself crazy. This wasn't how he wanted to spend this week with you. Not in the slightest. All he fucking wanted was a nice, peaceful time away with his bunny. But no. He didn't fucking get that either. He didn't ever get shit he wanted. He has you, but that's it. But where was the fun if he couldn't play with you like he wanted? Having to dart from place to place like this? Maybe he needs to step up his game. Do more. Take you further out of town. Change his name perhaps. It's not fair to you, but you'd have to change yours as well. Maybe when you were at the courthouse, he could-

"Will?"

Over the sound of the hum of the TV, William could hear you calling out to him. He opened his eyes and turned away from the window, closing the blinds again as he did. He was greeted with the sight of you still perched on the edge of the bed, your cute eyes filled with a twinge of worry. Your sandwich wrapper was balled up and thrown beside you. How long had he been at this?

"Will," you said again, "are you okay?"

William cleared his throat at your question, putting on the best smile he could muster, "Of course, bunny. Why?"

"You just seem, like... paranoid."

Shit. He forgot how smart you could be.

"No, no, I'm not paranoid, love." He said, "Not at all."

The older man saw how you frowned at his response, prompting you to stand up from off the bed. He watched as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found their home on either side of your waist, feeling how his muscles relax at the feeling of your touch. You even stood up on your tip-toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. In waves, he could feel his pent-up stress wash out of him, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your warmth was comforting to him, it seems. Just having you in his arms was.

Sweetest little one.

"Will," you said to him, "Its okay. You can tell me if something's bothering you."

William felt himself smile genuinely this time, lifting up one of his hands to rest on your cheek.

"Oh, my darling bunny," He mumbled, just loud enough so you could hear, "noting gets past you, does it, my love?

You smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his large palm, "It's had to miss when you're pacing around like crazy."

William couldn't help but chuckle, breathing a sigh of out his nose afterward.

"I apologize, bunny, I just..." William rubbed small, loving circles onto your cheek with his thumb. He had to think of a way to put this so you weren't scared, but that proved to be challenging. He settled on telling you part of the truth, "It's been a while since I've had time off. I think I'm just getting used to not having anything to do, yeah?"

"Yeah, I get that. But you should try to relax, Will. Pacing around and being all, like, fidgety isn't gonna help. You're working yourself up."

William let out a hum at your words, leaning down to kiss your lips again.

You were right. Worrying isn't helping anything. He needed to chill the fuck out. He was scaring you. You wouldn't ever admit it to him, but he was. He could tell. And that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted his bunny to be happy. And feel loved and safe. And him being so paranoid wasn't going to accomplish that. He was probably just tired after a long drive and a few restless nights. A red convertible was a popular car. It didn't necessarily mean what he thought it was. He was just worried about things going wrong, even though he was the one telling you it'd all be alright. Oh, poor bunny. He didn't mean to frighten you like that. He was just being a fool. He hoped you could forgive him. He was just glad to have you there to pull him back to reality.

His had slid down your waist, latching onto your hip and pulling you closer to him.

His perfect bunny. The love of his life. HIs darling little one. His.

Just as the kiss was starting to deepen, William pulled away from you with a smirk, his lips hovering just inches away from your own. He could feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks onto his as he looked into your eyes. The older man's hands were deft, one expertly caressing the side of your body, the other the side of your face. He could tell you were already enjoying yourself, your tiny fingers digging into the back of his sweater-vest. Perhaps you were feeling pent-up from earlier. There's no shame if you were, sweet thing. Hell, he was probably more in need of you then you were of him. Heaven knows how much he tried to relieve himself in your absence.

But, even though you were right there in front of him, William liked to take his time with you. Feel you. Touch you. Savor you.

"You've been so so good for me, bunny." He mumbled to you, his thumb dipping down to feel your rosy, swollen bottom lip, "Did you know that? You've been a perfect bunny for me."

William watched you swallow and nod before you said anything, "I... I like to think I'm good at following the rules..."

The brit chuckled, "It seems you are, love."

He paused briefly to give your lips another quick kiss, finding it too hard to resist.

"And do you know what happens when you're a good baby bunny for sir, darling?" He asked you after pulling away again.

You took a little breath before you said anything. He could tell that you were getting shy again, but knew he wanted your words. You were learning. Good. He barely had to teach you a thing.

"I... I-I get a reward." you mumbled.

William let out a pleased hum, giving a kiss to your temple, "Good bunny. That's right, you get everything your pretty little heart desires, yeah?"

"Yes sir."

"And tell me, little one. Who gives you all those nice things, hm?"

"Y-You do, sir..."

"Good bunny. And who is the only one that gets to give you those things?"

"Sir is."

William's finger dipped under your chin, lifting up the bone to make sure you looked him dead in the eyes.

"And whos bunny are you, little one?"

Your cheeks were burning hot now, "Y-Yours, sir... I'm yours."

Sir let out another pleased hum, pressing another quick kiss to his bunny's sweet little lips.

"Good, bunny, very good. Now, how about you tell me what you'd like for your reward, yeah? Anything your little heart desires, love. It'll be yours."

He watched you wet your lips before you spoke, barely above a whisper.

"You."

~~~

It was really fucking cold when you woke up.

It didn't help that the blankets were already halfway off of you, and that you were butt-ass naked underneath, except for your lower underwear. Maybe that's what woke you up to begin with. You couldn't think of any other reason why.

When you cracked your eyes open, you were luckily facing the bedside table, the digital alarm clock's red light shining in the dark void of the hotel room. Probably the only light source within the room William had gotten you. It took you a few rubs of your eyes to finally read it.

2:47 AM. Tuesday morning.

You rubbed your eyes a bit more as you felt your body start to wake up along with the rest of you. After moving around a bit, you were already starting to feel warmer than you did earlier. You knew that you should've put on pajamas. Around this time, Utah got freezing at night. It was practically the desert out here, but damn. It made you grateful to live in a time with heater systems being invented. But, still. The best heater in the world wouldn't do shit if you were butt-ass naked.

Coupled with the fact that you were freezing, you also felt a little hungry. The sandwich from earlier was filling, but after tonight you knew you had spent a lot of energy.

You took a glance over your shoulder at where that energy had went.

Of course, William was sound asleep behind you. Now that you were a bit more woken up, you could feel his arms wrapped snugly around your middle, your back pressed against this large, scarred yet toned chest. You knew that he had missed you while you were away. You missed him too. But turns out, oh god did he fucking miss you. He didn't want just one round. He wanted two. Then three. Then four. Then almost five, if you hadn't been nearly passing out from exhaustion by the start.

Not that you were complaining. Sex with William was amazing.

He was just amazing in general. He was kind to you. Understanding, too. And so so loving. You could tell that he really cared. Although he had some... odd ways of showing it.

But you didn't mind. It's what you signed up for. It's what you wanted. You couldn't help but think back to the days where you had a bit of a crush on him. Blushing whenever he said hi to you. Getting him to talk just to listen to that smoking accent of his. Did that make you a bad person? Crushing on your best friend's dad? Maybe it did. But, you couldn't help it. He was just so... charming.

Who knew you'd end up like this? With him? After all that time?

It was a bit hard to believe it was all real, at times.

Like it was too good to be true.

All you wanted was to just cuddle back up to William and drift back off. Wake up to him kissing you good morning, with a nice breakfast like he did before. But, no. You were too damn cold. And too damn hungry to do that, to wait until the morning. You needed to put on some pajamas, and find something to eat before you starved or froze to death. You couldn't imagine the horror your boyfriend would have if he found you dead next to him in the morning, all because he was too needy to let you put on a fucking shirt the night prior.

You'd save him the heart-attack. With all those damn cigarettes he smoked, he needed to be saved from it.

Slowly, you started to peel yourself away from the older man, careful not to go too fast. You still weren't too sure about just how heavy a sleeper Will was or not, but wanted to be careful in case he wasn't one at all. After a lot of wiggling and shuffling around, you were finally able to get out of your boyfriend's hold without incident. You shifted your legs out from under the covers, sitting on the edge of the bed as you rubbed your eyes one last time. They were pretty adjusted to the dark now, so you were able to see what was around you.

At the foot of the bed, you saw the discarded white t-shirt William had thrown off earlier. He used it as an undershirt, but it still looked clean enough. It'd do for the time being.

Picking up the article of clothing, you pulled it on over your head, letting it fall down your body. It was a little big on you, but you just found that to be more comfortable. And it smelled like Will. A win-win.

Scanning the ground again, you were able to see your sweatpants from earlier, though a little farther away this time. Reaching out with your leg, you were able to catch the pants on your toe and bring it back closer to you. You reached down and grabbed the pants off the floor, loosely holding it in your hands.

You were just about to stand up to put them on, but suddenly felt a large, heavy hand grab onto your wrist.

A gasp escaped your lips as you quickly spun around to see its source, only to be greeted with a familiar sight.

Him.

"Oh my god, Will!" You mutedly exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper, "You scared the shit outta me!"

He asked, his voice low and laced with sleep, "What are you doing?"

"It got cold," you explained, "so I'm putting on some clothes. I was also gonna go look for a vending machine. I can bring you-"

"No."

You blinked at William's interjection, feeling your lips part as you did. Even in the cover of darkness, you could see the seriousness in his grey eyes. Feel it in the way he grabbed onto you. He didn't want you to get up.

"Just..." he continued, "come back to bed, bunny. I'll hold you to make it warmer."

You smiled at his request. It was late. Will just must be tired. You could understand his clinginess.

"You were already holding me, Will." you explained to him, standing up to pull on your pants before sitting down again. William's hand returned to your arm as you did so.

"It'll be warmer with your clothes." He said, "Come here, bunny. I don't want you to leave."

You breathed out a little laugh as you leaned forward to him, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I'll just be gone a few minutes. I'll come right back. I promise." you reassured him, sliding your hand down to give his hand a squeeze.

"You promise?"

"Yes, Will."

"...Fine. Just don't be too long."

"I won't, I won't. Just a few minutes."

You gave him one last kiss on the cheek before standing up, putting on your shoes, and slipping out of the door. You felt bad leaving your boyfriend after he asked you to stay, but you were starving. But, you knew you could make good on your promise. You already knew were the vending machines were, and what sort of thing you'd want from them.

You padded your feet down the small staircase as you felt the chilly air wash over you, hugging your arms tight around you. You had to go slow down the stairs, since you were still sore from earlier, but tried to hurry as best you could. Once you were at the bottom, you turned the corner into the small area which housed the ice and vending machines. The whir from them was almost hypnotic, and it made you yawn. After scanning through the array of items available to you, you realized that this was gonna be a tougher choice than you thought.

The quietness of the night made it easier for you to think as you leaned against the wall. But, it also made you more aware.

After a few minutes, you could hear the sound of footsteps padding over to you in the distance. By their pitch, you could distinguish that whoever it was, they were wearing heels.

Heels? At this hour? Maybe someone coming from a party. Or someone's plane just landed a few hours ago. Who were you to judge?

Your eyes still on the vending machine, you listened as the footsteps drew nearer to where you were. Weird, but...

The staircase was right behind you. They were probably just going up there.

Why were you so nervous?

The heel-clacking was getting louder now.

Shit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the source of the footsteps. A woman had come up to the vending machine too, standing a good amount of feet away from you.

Shit. Should you just ignore her? Or was that rude?

It had to be rude. No to at least say hi.

Picking up your gaze from off the array of snacks, you looked over to the woman. You were a bit surprised to see she was already looking at you.

Or, at a minimum, you think she was.

The woman had a beautiful strawberry-blonde colored head of long, feathered hair, a red bandana holding some of the sides away from her face. She was wearing sunglasses (odd, for this time of night), but you could see the freckles that lined her cheeks underneath them. Her dress was long and flowy; a nice pastel-pink color with small, red rosettes lining the knee-length skirt. Her purse was tucked neatly into the crook of her arm, balancing on the top of her wide hip. Her heels were red too, as well as the lipstick she wore.

Should you be creeped out? By someone so casual this late at night?

Only one way to find out.

You gave your best polite smile to the lady, internally cringing at the awkward feeling it gave you.

"Cold night, yeah?" You asked her as some form of greeting. Not your best work, but hey. You weren't good with this sort of thing.

"Definitely, sugar." She told you in response, allowing you to hear her deep, rich southern accent, "much too cold for that get-up you got here."

You tried to laugh as polite as you could, "Yeah, well, I'm not staying out here too long. Just needed some air."

The woman nodded, "I understand. I wouldn't want to be around him too much, either."

It took you a second to process what the lady said, but you felt the chill run down your body once you understood.

What? No, there's no way...

She must be mistaken.

"I..." you stammered out, "S-sorry, I don't... I-I think you got the wrong person."

The woman's small smile grew, but not out of amusement. She seemed... sad. You watched as she took off her sunglasses, neatly placing them on top of her head to rest on her bandana. She had gorgeous green eyes. The type you'd only seen in movies before.

"You are (Y/N), right?" she asked.

You felt another chill run down your spine. If your legs weren't so sore, you knew you'd be running by now.

"H-How..." you mumbled, "H-how do you know my name..?"

The woman's brow bent downwards now, her eyes full of sympathy.

"Oh, don't be frightened now, mudbug. How rude of me. My name's Clara, sugar. But you probably know me better as Mikey's momma."

~~~

It was sad. It was sad, but painfully true.

The second Clara looked at you, she could tell exactly why her ex-husband wanted anything to do with you.

You were a cute and timid little thing. Young, and so full of life. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for what the world had to offer you. You had to be smart too. William wouldn't tolerate you if you weren't. Skittish, but she couldn't blame you for that. She had come up to you in the middle of the night. You were probably tired, and god knows what kind of shit William put into your head by now. She figured it had to be a good amount. It was obvious you were wearing his shirt, and the hickies covering your neck were even more so. And he had drug you all the way out here. You were probably so naïve and kind. She could see it in your eyes.

She wondered if you already loved him.

How tonight went would tell her.

She watched you as you continued to back away from her. She knew that you were trying to make a break for the stairs, but weren't trying to be rude at the same time. Clara could feel the sympathetic smile on her face.

You poor, poor thing.

"L-Look, ma'am, I..." you stammered out, "I don't want any trouble, I just-"

"No, sugar, no," Clara said back to you, keeping her voice low and calm to not frighten you any further, "I'm not lookin' for trouble either."

You looked at the older woman for a moment, eyeing her up and down in silence.

"Then what do you want?" you asked.

Clara shot you another sympathetic smile, shifting her purse down to rest in the crook of her elbow. She reached inside and pulled out a manila envelope, folded if half to fit in her bag.

"Now, I know you must be really confused, pumpkin," she explained, "but Mikey and I are just... we're a little concerned for you. And I just wanna ask you for a few minutes of your time to show you a few things, okay?"

The woman saw how your brows knitted together, partially in confusion, but partially in anger.

"Concerned for me?" you questioned, "Why? I'm sorry if this is rude, ma'am but... you don't even know me."

"Trust me, darlin', Mikey's told me plenty about you before."

"Then he should know that I'm fine. I'm not in any danger, so if he set you up to this just... please tell him that I'm okay."

Damn. You were smart.

"(Y/N)," Clara said, "I know you might feel like you are, but trust me when I say-"

"Why should I trust you? S-Sorry, I know that's rude but..."

"Because I've been in your shoes before, pumpkin. I know all of that man up there's tricks to keep you were he wants."

"But hasn't it been like, years since y'all split up? Maybe he's changed."

"People like him don't ever change, sugar. In all the years I've known him, he hasn't changed not one bit."

Clara could tell that you were getting annoyed, and defensive too. She couldn't help but wonder if her ex was starting to rub off on you in that regard. Were you like this before? She'd never know.

"Look, ma'am," you said, starting to back away to the staircase, "I appreciate the concern, but I am not in any sorta danger here. I am perfectly fine, and I know what I'm doing. So, please, thanks and goodni-"

"He calls you his bunny, doesn't he?"

That certainly got your attention. You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes wide open to the size of dinner plates, all the color drained from your face. Clara smiled to cover up the anguish inside. That's what she was hoping to avoid. That's the one thing she wished he spared you from. But, deep down, she knew. Clara knew that he'd want nothing to do with you unless you were that.

Clara watched you take a few steps closer to her, your eyes till wide open as you looked up to her face. She saw you were trembling, but wasn't sure if it was because you were scared, or because of the cold.

"H-How..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, "How did you know that?"

The woman shot you another sympathetic smile, "How about we find a place to sit down, sugar?"

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @laylaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo @reapersimps @wawuwe @lovinglenore @zoey5252 @000-mika

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!!

[fluentmoviequoter]

I just found out you write for Deacon 😍

I have a request for you: being in a relationship with Deacon but you guys have an age gap and because David is older he sometimes he has doubts if he his the right person for her. The reader shows him in many different ways that he is more than enough for her

Such a good idea!! I took some creative liberties and it became more of a discussion about Deacon's doubts and how reader proves her love, so I hope that's okay. If you'd like me to redo it with more focus on Deacon's emotions or anything, I can! Either way, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Warnings: discussions of doubt and insecurity, age gap (I pictured early seasons Deacon, so he'd be mid-40s, and reader in her 20s but it's up to you!), tons of fluff.

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

A/N: I proofread and fixed some errors on 12/27/23, but let me know if I missed anything! (And, yes, the title is an Enchanted reference.)

How Does He Know that You Love Him?

The age gap between you and Deacon has never bothered you; if anything, it’s part of why you love him so much. Deacon has doubts occasionally, but you never fail to prove that he’s the one for you and that you love him. More than you should sometimes, he thinks.

✯One Year Ago✯

You and Deacon keep running into each other. Living in the same neighborhood as each other meant that it was bound to happen, but it is occurring too often to be a coincidence. So, you decide to introduce yourself to him at the park. When you sit beside him on the park bench to continue your conversation, he points out that you could probably find someone younger than him to hang out with.

“I don’t want to sit with someone younger. I want to sit with you,” you say, smiling. “If that’s okay, of course.”

“It’s perfectly fine with me,” Deacon responds.

A few weeks later, he asks you out on the first date, and he makes it very clear that if he is reading it wrong and you want to be friends, that is okay. He mentions the age gap, and you have to interrupt him.

“Deacon, wait. I don’t care how old you are. You know that, right?” you ask, laying a hand on his forearm.

Deacon nods, but you look at him, unconvinced, and he sighs before continuing. “I’m sure it seems okay now, but what if in a few months or a year you realize you want someone younger? Then we just wasted time.”

You raise your hand off his arm to cup his jaw. Smiling up at him, you promise, “I want you, Deacon. No matter how old you are or how amazing your salt and pepper looks.”

Since then, you’ve made sure to not only tell Deacon that he’s the one for you and the age gap doesn’t bother you, but to show him. You love spending time with his friends, glad to be around a group of men rather than boys. You’ll happily decline an invitation to go to a midnight horror movie or clubbing in exchange for game nights at Hondo’s house. Deacon soon realizes that you mean what you say and what you do, and the age gap doesn’t affect him as much. He still gets insecure at times; when he sees you with a group of people your age or a young man stares at you in public, but when he remembers who you’re with and everything you’ve said you love about him, the thought returns to the back of his mind.

✯Present Day✯

“Who’s that?” you ask as you walk into the station, hugging Deacon as he walks up to you.

“Oh, that’s Jim Street. Buck’s choice of replacement,” Deacon answers, watching you look at Jim.

You nod once and look back to Deacon, smiling as you lean up to kiss him quickly. “He any good?”

“He’s got potential, just needs a little help.”

“Which is exactly what you guys do, right?”

“Right.”

You pull your hand from him to visit Luca and Chris, but Deacon can only focus on you and Jim. You’re closer in age, and Street looks over at you every few minutes. Even if it’s not Jim, you will meet other men: better options than Deacon. He knows that if this happens, you’ll both get hurt in the fallout, so he buries his doubts. Or tries to.

“Deacon,” you call, your brows furrowed as you tilt your head to the side, asking to talk to him privately.

He follows you to an empty hallway, standing before you as you lean against a wall. Your arms are crossed across your chest as you look up at him.

“What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing.”

“Just…” Deacon sighs as he rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Is it happening again?”

Deacon’s eyes drop to your shoes, focusing on you but not your face.

“Deacon, you can talk to me about it. You know I get insecure, too, right? It’s normal, but it’s not something you have to endure alone.”

“I don’t want our relationship to be you trying to make me feel better,” Deacon admits.

“You know what I like? I like talking to you, no matter what it’s about. I like spending time with you, no matter what we’re doing. You’re it for me, Deacon, and I will tell you and show you until I can’t anymore. Okay? But I need you to start talking to me about this stuff.”

Deacon nods, grabbing your elbows and pulling you up against him. “You show me a lot.”

“Really? Have any examples?” you ask playfully, blinking up at him.

“Later. I have a whole list,” Deacon answers.

He directs you back to the common area where his team is.

“We’re gonna head out, guys,” Deacon announces. “See you Friday?” he asks Hondo.

“Come prepared to lose!” Tan taunts as he waves.

You hold Deacon’s arm against your chest as you walk out, eager to stay close to him and remind him that you’re always close. Sometimes too close, maybe.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Now, the list?” you ask as Deacon passes you a steaming mug.

You pull your legs up as Deacon sits down, then drop them into his lap.

“Yes, well, it’s not just a list of things you do. There’s also specific memories and how you make me feel,” Deacon says quietly.

“Okay. How do I make you feel?”

“That’s at the end,” Deacon teases as he places his hand on your legs.

He begins telling you about the ten things that stand out as evidence of how you prove your love for him and your lack of care for the age gap.

“First, you watch for me when you’re out,” Deacon begins.

“Meaning?”

“When you go out with your friends and I come pick you up, they always have their noses in their phones. They don’t talk to each other or look around, but the second I walk in, your eyes light up and you run to meet me. Like you’ve been watching for me.”

“You’re worth watching for,” you point out, sipping your drink.

“No flirting right now, I’m trying to tell a story. Second, when you asked me to teach you how to tie a tie and started doing it for me every time I needed to wear a tie.”

You smile as you remember the memory. Deacon happily took your hands in his and walked you through the process several times before letting you try without his help. It took some practice, but soon, you could tie it perfectly and offer to do so whenever he has to wear a tie somewhere. He always accepts, of course.

“Third?” you inquire.

“You dance with me. I can turn on music and grab you, anywhere, anytime, and you’ll dance with me. Not everyone is willing to slow down and just be with someone else like that.”

“You’re my dance partner, forever, Deac.” He looks at you, and you smile into your cup as you say, “Sorry, I’ll stop flirting.”

“Four. You turn guys down with a grace I’ve never seen. When we’re out and a guy comes up to you…” Deacon trails off when he sees the look in your eyes. “It happens a lot. When they do, and they flirt with you, you make it clear that you’re not interested but you do it with a grace beyond anyone’s years.”

“Does it bother you? That guys come up to me like that, I mean. Because I can get a face tattoo or something, or a big necklace that says, ‘stay back.”

Deacon laughs, pulling you closer after you set your mug down. “Five is pretty easy. You bring me treats, and you involve my coworkers somehow when you visit me at the station. You get along with my friends and you know what everyone likes and needs. Which goes with number six, which is that you don’t rely on me for everything, but you make me a part of everything.”

“Deacon has someone said something about me using you for your money or your age?” you ask, leaning toward him as you hope the answer is negative.

“No, but I’m sure some people would expect it. And I would help you with anything in a heartbeat, but even then, on the rare occasion you do ask for help, you make me part of it, not just a means to the end.”

“I think your list of things you love about me is making me fall more in love with you,” you say.

Deacon smiles and tugs your legs once more, pulling your thighs into his lap so you’re close enough to kiss when he’s ready. You raise a hand and run your fingers through his hair, disturbing the gel he used this morning and gently scratching his scalp. He wraps his arms around you as his eyes close involuntarily.

“This is seven. When you touch my hair everything else slips away.”

“Well, you know how I feel about your hair,” you tease.

“You warned me at the beginning,” Deacon recalls. “But it’s gotten better with time.”

“What’s eight?” you whisper, stilling your hand against his cheek.

“That you stay close to me when we’re together. Even if you’re across the room, you stay in sight. When you’re right beside me is my favorite, though. It’s a reminder that you not only want to be there, but you want to be there with me.”

“Forever.”

“This one’s big. You approach my doubts so maturely, ready to explain and show me why they’re unfounded and wrong. When I get insecure or doubtful about your place with me, you find a way to show me that you want to be with me.”

“It doesn’t happen as much anymore,” you point out.

 “I guess I finally caught on,” Deacon jokes. “Old dogs, new tricks, perhaps.”

“If nine was that big, I’m not sure I’m emotionally prepared for the last one.”

“It’s that you make me feel like I’m in love. You make me feel alive and young. I feel like you’re the breath that my lungs have been waiting for my whole life and you let me live and experience life in a whole new way. I love you with everything I am, no matter our ages.”

“I love you, now and forever, Deacon,” you say before kissing him.

“What do you think you’ll look like with gray hair?” Deacon mumbles against your lips.

“Not as good as you.”

[hestzhyen]

Already Waist-Deep

Hi internet void. Please allow me to kagura my bachi all over the place for a little bit. I've got a bad case of the brain worms about these boys that I haven't even had together for 20 chapters yet. Let me ramble a little bit about why they're already so compelling as not only a duo, but a ship.

First off, a caveat. Kagurabachi is a Weekly Shounen Jump (WSJ) action series. That means that if romance is ever addressed in the series itself, the protagonist is going to end up with a girl. Doesn't matter how underdeveloped or lackluster his relationship to her is, or how flat she is as a character. Invest lightly and come along for the ride without any expectations of m/m ships becoming canon. (That said, it might not be the worst thing in the world for our MC to end up with a girl in this case- more on that later.)

Second, I don't really ship that often. Not seriously at least. I need more than two guys being close with each other to start wanting them to be a pair, y'know? So I hope you understand the intensity of the material Hokazono-sensei has been giving us the past few chapters. I am on the brink of going all-in on HakuHiro/ChihiHaku in less than 20 chapters, it's that insane.

Third, I will be talking about current developments without marking potential spoilers. There are less than 40 chapters out as of writing this but there are at least two reveals that would be better appreciated going in blind. Spoilers for the oneshot Farewell! Cherry Boy are also a thing near the end.

Okay? Okay. Let's begin.

Who's Involved? First up is our protagonist Chihiro Rokuhira, an 18 year old boy and the son of a famous swordsmith. He was raised with genuine love and care by his father (no idea what happened to his mom yet), taking care of their day-to-day life while learning his father's trade. And from the very first chapter he is steeped in tragedy as he witnesses his father's murder and life's work being stolen. He then sets out on the long, fraught road of vengeance.

Sounds grim and not exactly compelling, right? Especially when this scene from the first chapter was making the rounds being memed to death:

But there's much more to Chihiro than meets the eye. Flashbacks to his time growing up show him being a natural caretaker to his dad and their fish- cooking meals, keeping his dad on task, and so on. We see glimpses of underlying tenderness when he meets and rescues Char, a sweet little girl with her own tragic past. And we get some insight that he might not be quite as resolute as he's projecting himself to be when he faces off against Sojo, a fan of his father who worships a much different version of the man than Chihiro knew. Right now Rakuzaichi arc has definitively shown us that Chihiro isn't as collected as he seems. One of his father's killers easily cracks the mask and shows us Chihiro is really just a desperate kid with a heaping helping of trauma, while Tenri's pointless sacrifice shakes him to his core. But despite it all he's still doing determinator things in the most badass way possible. Chihiro has layers, man. A lot of them. And the best way to understand our protagonist right now is through his foil: Hakuri Sazanami.

Who is Hakuri? Another 18 year old boy with a special lineage, but he's a loser who needs to be saved from common thugs. A pathetic guy who latches on to Chihiro and doesn't take the hint when Chihiro literally runs away to ditch him. An utter failure to his family. A lost puppy looking for a samurai.

Hakuri Sazanami is one of the best goddamn foils I've seen in shounen manga yet.

Let me tell you all the ways I love the writing around this kid and Chihiro because MAN I can't even contain all these feels.

What's Going On? From the start, Hakuri looks like he's just another person for Chihiro to bail out. He witnesses Chihiro's awesomeness fighting Sojo in the streets and decides to imitate it, standing up for a little girl being kidnapped. Instead of winning out, though, he's captured and kicked around. Once he's coincidentally rescued by Chihiro he's immediately all-in on tagging along and keeping Chihiro in his life. Look at this pathetic guy:

Chihiro decides to hear him out due to his connection to the Sazanamis, the Big Bads of the arc. He's initially put off by Hakuri's intensity but brings him along anyway, as Hakuri's insider information regarding the Sazanami family makes him useful. Then, as Chihiro wavers under Hiyuki's assault, Hakuri is truly useful for the first time:

And it only gets better from here. We see Hakuri hanging off Chihiro's every word trying to be as useful as possible for his samurai, striving to do anything he can, though it ends up with him forcing Chihiro to give up his precious sword Enten in exchange for his life. (Yes, Chihiro "buys" Hakuri from the Sazanamis- Hakuri's own family.) Later on during the invasion of the auction is where things go into overdrive though. We see their character arcs start to invert and shape each other's as the action unfolds and Hakuri's own tragic past comes to light, eventually awakening him to his special abilities. Chihiro's bravery and strength help him pull this off and finally defeat the older brother that tortured him in the name of "love". Hakuri ascends to being the strongest Sazanami since the progenitor started their line centuries ago. He's the Special Boy!

All this to say that Hakuri Sazanami isn't just a deuteragonist or a foil…

He's the goddamn heroine.

Kagurabachi's Built Different What makes a shounen series heroine? Firstly, they support the main character without getting involved in most of the heavy fighting; their abilities are usually support-centric. A shounen heroine will usually at most have a fight against another girl while the main event is happening nearby, making sure the main character has the spotlight. Second, most of the value they bring to the protagonist's story is emotional. They encourage him, validate him, provide a bit of a refuge for him to safely let his guard down. They can get him to express softer emotions that he wouldn't normally show around others. Third… they're the love interest. Ochako, Orihime, Chichi, and now… Hakuri? Really?

We know the third one will not happen for HakuHiro in canon. But what about the first two? Well, let's recap what Hakuri has done for Chihiro so far.

Hakuri can defend himself now, but his most useful ability is access to an interdimensional storehouse. Given the way that his magic works -he needs to prioritize maintaining a storehouse or using Isou- he'll likely be the means of keeping the enchanted blades safe rather than a front-line fighter. Support-centric character that will still get some combat time against lesser opponents: check.

Hakuri's given Chihiro some much-needed direct emotional validation that he hasn't gotten from anyone else yet. ("You saved me." … "That katana suits you.") Hakuri's words fortify his resolve and Chihiro later pays it back by trading Enten, an incalcuably precious sword and memento of his father, for Hakuri's life. He even uses the same phrase when asked why he'd do that for someone as worthless as Hakuri ("That guy… saved me.") He later reaffirms that Hakuri's encouragement gave him the courage to let go of Enten in the first place:

Emotional support pillar: check.

"Well that's not enough!" you say. "That's just taking some moments and doing that thing you said you didn't do- smushing boys together just because they're close!" OK but look at how Hakuri thinks about Chihiro:

Chihiro has been his inspiration from the first time he saw him. It can be read as admiration and hero worship, but isn't it a bit much when remembering how devoted Hakuri has been since they met?

And just look at Hakuri's face here, he's beaming when Chihiro busts in to save him just like he believed he would:

Mostly, though, Chihiro is the one who gives Hakuri strength in the moment. The Ice Woman broke him free of his family's mentality, and now Chihiro gives Hakuri what he needs most: hope. Something he never had before, which doomed his relationship to the Ice Woman; he couldn't prove to her that there was more to life than despair because that was all he knew… but that completely changed once he met his samurai.

And that's been their thing through this arc. Each one is giving the other the vital thing they needed to grow and keep going. When Hakuri was struggling at the start, Chihiro was his guiding light towards a better future. And when Chihiro struggled in the aftermath of Tenri's cruel death, Hakuri pulled him along so they finish the job. They're in perfect sync now as they take down the Rakuzaichi. Don't just take my word for it, check out Hokazono-sensei's color page for the most recent chapter (38): https://twitter.com/KaguraShiba/status/1804898273859445181 From Hella (KaguraShiba): >Kagurabachi Ch 38 JP Color Page 「阿吽の呼吸で薙ぎ払え」 "Two people dancing to the same beat, mowing down enemies" >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Synchronized breathing >Or when people are the most in tune with each other >阿吽の呼吸/"Aun no Kokyuu" Is a Buddhist expression in Japanese meaning something close to "harmonizing in sync together" >"Aun" is also used to indicate an "Aun relationship", indicating an inherently harmonious relationship or nonverbal communication Yeesh. But holy shit it's paying off. In chapter 38 these boys are already in harmony- Hakuri registers Chihiro into his storehouse (yes they both "own" each other now) and sends him in to fight his father. During the fight Chihiro trusts Hakuri to interpret his intent and it works. Chihiro wordlessly tags a bunch of grenades with his spirit energy and Hakuri pulls them out into the real world to bomb the shit out of the Rakuzaichi audience. They didn't plan this beforehand- they had no idea Kyoura had fucking grenades laying around in there. But they're close enough to understand each other's thoughts already. Peak soulmate material right there!

What's got me most interested now, though, is how they will pull/push each other after this arc. Chihiro's going to be focused more than ever on tracking down his father's killer and the swords. But Hakuri, well… I think it would be very interesting if he starts to become a despair monster. A reflection of Chihiro's state at the very start of the manga where nothing mattered to him except exacting revenge. We're seeing shades of this in the most recent chapter where he's slumped over and obviously depressed about how all this is turning out. He's going to end his family's cruel trade but at what cost to himself? Will Chihiro see some of himself in Hakuri and be able to help him out, or at least promise to find relief from the pain together? Obviously a Bad End where Hakuri takes himself out is in the cards given Hokazono-sensei's previous works but… on a meta level, I think his storehouse ability will keep him relevant. I mean yeah he could be used to slap Chihiro across the face by showing what a bad end for his revenge story could look like but I think (hope) that won't happen. [Note to future self: I give you permission to go batshit insane if Chihiro stops Hakuri from committing sudoku.]

And this is where my brain worms are coming from. In just under 20 chapters we have an extremely strong set up between them- so much room for them to teach each other; push to grow and pull back from the brink when tragedy strikes again.

But where's the real meat, you ask? The actual literary analysis in this gushing rant about how much I love these boys I barely know? Well, fine. Buckle up because it's time for some…

Daddy Issues The Rakuzaichi arc really digs into comparing Chihiro's affection for his dad to the Sazanami family structure. And I gotta talk about this because it's the key aspect that makes Hakuri such a brilliant foil.

First off, the similarities. Chihiro and the Sazanami kids are all intensely devoted to their fathers. All of them were raised with love while learning the intricacies of their family trade. We see the Sazanami kids getting praised for doing well, just like Chihiro. Hakuri and Tenri were even told they were special. During the arc, the Sazanami kids put their lives on the line to defend their dad and family legacy with zeal matched by Chihiro's intensity to avenge his dad. When he falls, Tenri's final words are apologizing to his father.

It's truly heartbreaking that the Sazanami's dad never loved them back.

You see, the Sazanamis are one of those families that put their lineage and craft over everything else. Every member of the family lives for ensuring the Rakuzaichi auction goes off without a hitch. One of the clan is chosen to inherit the storehouse and the rest are trained to defend it to the death. Kyoura, the current patriarch, has no compunctions about letting his son Tenri die just to delay Chihiro and the gang for a few more minutes. He had his kids put their lives on the line to defend a storehouse door that he had already broken in secret- making it completely useless. And he's equally cold when it comes to children who can't perform to standards like Hakuri. Once Hakuri (apparently) fails to manifest an ability for sorcery, Kyoura turns a willfully blind eye to the abuse his kid starts to suffer. He knowingly lets Hakuri be tortured by his older brother for years and does nothing, then disowns him once some "merchandise" kills herself in front of him. There's no love for children who can't be useful to the family's traditions. Yet any love that does exist between father and child is manipulated as seen here:

What the fuck man.

So Hakuri is going into this arc firm in his conviction to end his family's evil ways. He's been abused physically and emotionally for at least six years straight; he knows his father doesn't love him. And even now when he's about to bring the whole place down with Chihiro he's still yearning for his dad's praise. Hakuri's family is fucked up bad and he needs a hell of a lot of healing after all is said and done.

Meanwhile, every flashback with Chihiro shows us that he was truly loved and cared for like every kid deserves. His dad wasn't perfect but he was exactly what a parent should be- kind, understanding, and supportive. His goofy advice helps Chihiro to this day. Chihiro and his dad had a genuine father-son bond that was broken by tragedy and thus Chihiro's desire to do right by his father's memory is driven by grief, first and foremost. So when we see his expression after Tenri's death, we know why he's so badly shaken. They clashed out of love and duty for their fathers, supposedly prepared to pay the ultimate price. But the Sazanami version of "love" is a very different, much less wholesome than the version Chihiro knows… and no less effective in terms of motivation.

You can practically hear his heart breaking for Tenri. And his inner thoughts in the next chapter say it all: he was naive to think he could enact revenge while holding fast to the kindness he grew up with. Chihiro's kindness that he learned from his father is a liability to him in this situation. Meanwhile, Hakuri knew from the start that he had to finally give up the last of his familial affection. He hardened his heart and steeled his resolve to do whatever it took.

Both Chihiro and Hakuri knew what it was like to be loved. Hakuri's version might have been twisted, but it was still painful to have that bond suddenly broken. And now we've seen Edgy Revenge Man's inner softness hold him back while Silly Soft Guy has a heart colder than the arctic. I go absolutely feral comparing and contrasting their situation and how their positions have reversed. Yeah, Chihiro's going to be the action guy who saves the day but Hakuri's the reason he can do it. Hakuri's surprisingly strong core has pushed Chihiro to put his feelings aside to get things done. I can't fucking wait to see how this arc ends and where these boys end up. What will the the most important thing Chihiro takes away from Hakuri here? I hope it leads him to be a bit more openly compassionate and soft around his allies- Hakuri's situation being a lesson in not letting your family's bonds overtake everything else. For Hakuri, well… I think being around Chihiro, Char, and the rest will help him heal. But I hope it's Chihiro that keeps him stable as the person that can relate to him best.

Meta Ramblings Whew. Now then… Yo dumbass writing this, we're not even 40 chapters in yet. Don't you think it's a bit too soon to start getting hyped for a character that could be shelved as soon as the arc is done?

From the four one-shots available to read, it seems like Hokazono-sensei is interested in writing about characters encountering tragedy through various kinds of love. I think it's intriguing that three out of the four end in despair and the one that doesn't still involves a fair bit of sadness. It's interesting to see the themes and characters he's reused in Kagurabachi. It's a bit early to say about Hakuri's circumstances since this is only the second proper arc in the series, but given Hokazono-sensei's past works I think Hakuri is here to stay. He seems to love his color-coded foils (Chain, Enten, Roku no Meiyaku). Farewell! Cherry Boy also explores the circumstances of a blindly loyal boy who feels useless being given his first chance to prove himself… I think this is a theme that Hokazono-sensei is revisiting in a more in-depth fashion with Hakuri, so there's a good chance there's more planned.

And just for fun, if we want to look at his romance stories… Madogiwa de Amu is all about one person being the other's greatest hope, their reason to perservere in the face of hardship and seeing that reciprocated in turn. Complete with the weaker person becoming strong enough to protect the person who inspired them first. Hmm. (Hopefully it doesn't end the same way though 'cause man, I can see Hakuri doing something similar right now…) It's also not impossible for Kagurabachi to touch on love given we see Farewell! Cherry Boy incorporating love as the crux of the narrative, despite starting as a gangster story. The true MC is quite like Chihiro as well in terms of motivation and action plan.

I also think it's impossible to overstate how important it is for Chihiro to have a friendly peer to compare to, narratively speaking. Char is a woobie, Shiba's an uncle figure, and Hiyuki is set up to be the aggro rival/frenemy. Hinao could become more than a side character but it seems unlikely at this time. Chihiro needs someone his own age to just be himself with. And that, I am 99% sure, will be Hakuri. A guy who's suffered just as much as he has. Someone who knows what it's like to have a famous last name and lineage to protect. An equal who's unquestionably on his side, who will lift him up when he's down, will need some protection and care. So yes I think Hakuri will be sticking around to be Chihiro's foil. He might take a back seat at times as heroines do, but he'll still be there to support our sad boi through thick and thin.

Anyway that's why I'm ready to jump feet-first into this ship. It's got all the hallmarks of a wonderfully strong bond and I hope we get to see these boys comforting each other for years to come. If you read all this… thank you? Maybe get yourself checked for brain worms? And tell everyone you know to read this amazing action-packed tragedy laced with BL crack cocaine.

[evieelyzabethh]

Hi me again! 👋🏻

I was wondering if you had time maybe to write a small fic (or one shot whatever you’re comfortable with) where the reader is Buffy’s cousin ( also library assistant or whatever you would like ) and the reader and Giles are in a secret relationship ( maybe smut?? ) and they’re navigating that and Buffy finds out and it’s this whole thing. If you’re busy I totally understand or if you just don’t want to, again it’s okay. I really do enjoy your work 🥰.

Not Unavailable, More Unimpressed

pairing(s): Giles x Summers!Reader

summary: what started out as a short term fling has gotten increasingly complicated when the reciprocity and sincerity of feelings is called into questions. pt.1 of ???

warnings: smut, fem!reader, drinking, hand job, a bit of breast worship, clothed grinding, riding, slight choking, age gap (Giles is in his mid to late 40's, reader is in her late 20s/ early 30s), reader has nipple piercings bc I said so and I think they are hot

an: This fic will contain smut so be warned. You are responsible for your own media consumption, read at your own risk.

The man at the bar was a mystery to you. He didn't quite fit into the bar atmosphere. He wasn't one of the barely legals or illegals who snuck in eager to drink, he wasn't one of the old guys who came to hit on the bottle girls, he didn't smell like a smoker or shoot whiskey like a drinker. He was also British, something that left an odd taste in your mouth.

You couldn't call yourself a regular here, more often than not you found yourself at the Bronze, purely per Buffy's request, which had okay enough booze and slightly better music. Here, some place clearly meant for an older crowd called Jack's, is where the older man sat. Alone, he sat at the far corner, sometimes looking longingly at the stage like he was a performer. He didn't look like a performer though.

He was older than you. He was greyed out and looked like he came from when TVs were still in sepia tones. He looked like Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird, like he was always a moment away from scolding someone. It didn't help that he always looked tired, like a lot of his age came from stress. If that was the case, it still didn't make sense as to why he chose a bar to be his spot to wind down.

It was loud. Not in the way that the Bronze was, a type of loud filled with life. A loud spurred by rowdy souls, people who couldn't let loose at home, so they came to one of the only shitty bars in the small town to drink a shitty beer and watch their favorite sports team lose. Not to mention the countless barely legals who got into fights with the bartenders after they failed to get their underage friends a drink. Jack's wasn't a place to have fun, it was the place to avoid doing something reckless during your midlife crisis. You were only there because of convenience, and after being there for a half hour were already beginning to get a migraine.

Job hunting was rough. When you moved to Sunnydale on behalf of your aunt, she offered to let you stay under her roof, but being a grown woman who got up to grown woman shenanigans, it would be more than distasteful to do it in Joyce's home. You were lucky enough that the housing market was great in the area, with all the supernatural happenings so one chose to move to Sunnydale, but that still didn't mean that a decent looking apartment wouldn't cost you a nice sum of money every month.

I could just work here, was your first thought. You were once a young college student also desperate for money, you had bartended, you could always go back if you lacked self-respect. You had a degree dammit, sure you didn't have a doctorate, but you shouldn't need one to get a nice quiet desk job. Neither option was all that fulfilling, but something told you that bartending in a town when demons just roamed the streets didn't seem like a great idea.

The mystery man looked like he had a nice job. Maybe a nice car. Possibly a nice house. He looked financially stable, and fuck was that hot. What did he do? What was there to do in Sunnydale? You could ask.

You looked at his hands to see if there was a ring or any indication that there was someone waiting for him wherever he came from. Maybe a picture of a kid, maybe a photo of a significant other. Nothing. Nothing.

You slinked over to the seat beside him, not meaning to make your presence immediately known yet he still looked up as he felt the heat of someone else beside him. His glasses perched low on his nose and his grey hair tussled. His eyes were green. He was pretty.

"Hello?" He looked at you confused. He took a moment to drink you in. Younger, gorgeous, clearly bold.

"Hello."

"Are you waiting for someone?" You shook your head.

"No. Are you?" and he'd be lying if he said he was.

☽✯☾

"You know, I don't do this often." He said between the rare breaths that were allowed in between suffocating kisses. Whatever he took up in his free time must've involved a great workout regimen. His hand sat comfortably at your neck, and you basked in the warmth that it provided in his cold apartment. His other held your cheek, his thumb mindless rubbing against it in a way that was hypnotizing. It almost had a numbing affect, your skin not being able to get past the feeling making your brain pause as he kissed your lips.

He tasted like fine wine. He smelled like old books. You half expected him to quote a classic at you, you didn't know him well enough to gauge if he was the type. His tongue contradicted his previous statement. These weren't the kisses of a man out of practice, that or he did it so much in his youth it was impossible to forget. Something like riding a bike.

"For a man who doesn't do this often, you're mighty good at it." He smirked; you could feel it against your lips. You wished you could see it, but he had the lights in his bedroom turned low and you weren't sure you wanted to open your eyes in the fear that you were dreaming. It was warm, he was so warm. So warm it was noticeable when his lips left yours and moved to your neck, hovering under your ears. His breath fanning against your neck was enough to send shivers down your spine.

"You haven't even seen how good I am, darling." The pet name alone made you weak in the knees, but you would be damned if you swooned at someone called you darling. Granted, you couldn't help how your mouth went dry or how your pussy clenched at nothing, but he didn't need to know that. He was going to find out, but he can find out later when your lust ridden brain stopped listening to reason and pride.

"Show me, then."

He dipped his head to kiss you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tip your head back and you let him, grabbing on to his broad shoulders to stabilize yourself. You were pressed between the wall and him, pressing him even closer as you fisted his shirt to pull him closer, but he was hesitant to oblige. He was teasing, you could tell by the way he smiled into your kisses, pulling away like he needed air while you chased after his lips.

"You having issues breathing, old man?" The hand at your neck squeezed, not enough to choke you but enough to make your head even dizzier. His other hand travelled to any piece of skin he could get his hands on. Feather light, his fingers ran across your arms, then your collarbones, before knocking the straps of your dress off your shoulder. His kisses moved slow, his tongue damn near like languid waves that you were somehow managing to drown in.

Still, you chased after him, and still, he ran. His lips ran to the corner of your mouth, to the skin of your neck his hand didn't engulf, to where your strap lay useless. His kisses scorched your otherwise cold skin, his mouth sucking hickeys and then immediately soothing them.

He was so soft. Soft in how his hands found the back of your dress, soft in how his eyes looked into yours, asking permission without even saying a word, soft like the way the fabric slipped of your body and onto the floor. Soft like the bed he laid you on. Even soft in the way he continued to tease you, his knee meeting the crotch of your panties and him meticulously unsnapping your bra as if you couldn't tell he knew how to do it.

He then paused for a minute, finally coming across something he hadn't experienced before. His fingers took the ball of cool metal between his fingers, and you moaned at how it pulled ever so slightly at your nipple.

"What are these?" You chuckled.

"I got 'em pierced ages ago. Drunk night out with a few friends my senior year." He continued to play with the metal ball, well aware of how you keened and ground yourself into his knee.

"So, I can play with them." Fuck. It was how he said it. Like a nerd you might've messed around with in school because he was a good tutor but also because he had that nerdy charm to him. Like playing with your body was a game of Operations he had been so eager to play and was determined to get good at. It was easy to imagine Giles like that, fogged up glasses, eyes concentrated and focused on figuring out what buttons to press to get a prize. There was the curiosity in his lust-blown eyes, and in your lust addled brain you were fine with being his toy.

"Please do." He didn't need to be told twice. Avid learner he was, he went in, his large hands easily covering your breasts. His fingers pulled at the bars, drawing whimpers out of you the more he prodded. It wasn't too rough, Giles was too soft to ever be truly rough, but the feeling of his gaze, your clothed pussy rubbing against his soft slacks, and his large hands over your chest was getting a bit much. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet.

It didn't take long for him to realize the feeling of your pierced tits in his mouth was one of the best things he's felt, and it felt even better for you. A wet patch had long since been growing and he certainly felt it too, it egged him on. He wasn't even in you, he hadn't even tasted you, and you were almost there. You were so close.

You grabbed at anything you could, his shirt, his sheets, his hands that held yours as you rocked yourself onto his knee until you saw stars. Then he grabbed your face and swallowed your moans as he kissed and kissed you until you came down. A moment of clarity hit you, and you pulled on his shirt. "Off." you told him simply, and he obliged. You smashed your lips into his, peeling off button after button until the shirt was thrown to the side and his undershirt beneath was discarded with even less care.

"Issues with patience, darling?" You shook your head.

"Not fair I'm practically naked and you were fully clothed." His retort was cut off by your lips as you sat up to meet him, his hands absent-mindedly finding your breasts and yours finding his belt and making quick work of it before he even realized what was happening. You kissed him through it, anyway, still chasing after him as he pulled away to curse at the feeling of your hand around his dick.

"Gods." he muttered, words tumbling out clumsily as you rubbed the tip of his cock. He never had the control to pull away fast enough for an adequate breather, just a second to get a breath out and pray. You were flattered. His hand seemed like it wanted to swat you away, but it didn't have the strength to betray his brain like that. It felt good. Too good. So good he couldn't even think, and Giles never stopping thinking and now he was drawing blanks. He was sure you had mocked him once or twice, which went through one ear and out the other.

He caught himself thrusting into your hand before he caught himself, grabbing your wrist. "Hang on." He choked out, but you didn't listen. Your hand moved up and down his shaft terribly slow, and it was almost worse. Watching you spit on your hand and collect pre-cum from his tip and spread it like some sick simulation of what it would be like to be in you, and yet he couldn't help but watch his hand completely cover yours as you pumped him. Don't cum yet.

"I said hang on." His breath was ragged and his voice was deep. This time he meant it. "There are condoms in the top left drawer. Take one out for me, love." And you did as such. Did it with so much assurance that you slid it on without him even needing to ask you. Slid your panties off and sank down so fast neither one of you was ready.

You both sat there a moment, feeling your nerve endings tingle and burn, like you were both on fire. But you were on fire together. Like you could feel every atom in your body, like it had all been reduced to nothing but water, you were both feeling everything and anything yet absolutely nothing at the same time. So much feeling any nuance got lost in the moment. Just being there, breaths away, with a complete stranger you were sleeping with because he was pretty and looked financially stable.

You kissed him, a real kiss. Spontaneous. One with a feeling neither one of you could decipher and both assumed meant nothing. You rode it out until you had both exhausted each other, you falling on top of him and him catching you.

"Would you like to use my shower before you go? Did you need a ride home?" You cheesed to yourself. And they say chivalry is dead.

"Yeah, that would be nice." You had already rolled out of his bed in search of your dress and waiting for feeling to return to your legs. "I never got your name."

"Giles. Rupert Giles." You giggled as you shook of your dress after picking it up from the floor. Sounds about right.

"And what do you do for a living, Mr. Giles."

"Do these things typically end in interviews?" He made no effort to get out of his bed, he even had the decency to turn away while you get dressed as if he wasn't just balls deep in you.

"No, but I am new to town and would like to not be broke."

"I'm a librarian." Of course, you are. "Have you any interest in literature?" You did. You were a nerd. You had tried convincing yourself you weren't for years, but you majored in philosophy and minored in classic literature; and no one likes philosophy majors.

"I dabble a bit. Got a degree from all the reading I did if that counts." He looked at you like he knew you were trying to make yourself sound cooler. Nerd calls to nerd.

"Well, plenty of places are always hiring. The turnover rate is quite atrocious here." And even new to town, you believed it.

"I just might."

☽✯☾

You did end applying, you even ended up getting the job. Apparently, your little cousin's high school was in desperate need of a library assistant. You also had the pleasure of freezing when you saw Giles again and watching your little cousin greet her favorite teacher.

It was almost worth it for the look on his face, though.

[ladykailitha]

Buckle up, there is a topic I want to rant about today. A few days ago this came across my dash and it reminded me of someone I knew from high school.

There was this kid at my high school everyone thought was a douche. He was good looking, popular, could sing, dance and play an instrument (I think it was guitar, but I don't remember it's been 20 years). He was getting lead roles in the plays as a sophomore (we didn't have freshman in our high schools out here in hick Utah where the running joke has always been we're behind the times by at 20-40 years), he got duck classes because he was getting acting jobs while in school.

We'll call him MH because those were his initials.

He was in my biology class and our science teacher had four groups of four debate creationism vs evolution (you shouldn't debate established fact but whatever). Two groups would be for creation and the other two would be for evolution.

I picked creation because I was a contrary child and wanted to debate the opposite of my actual views. (I was like thatTM) He picked evolution.

We got up and gave our arguments. Now our teacher wasn't a stupid man, stupid assignment aside. He knew his classes. He knew teenagers. He gave them two voting slips. One for who liked the best. Popularity wise. And the other for who gave the best arguments.

Now for some added context, this is Utah. Mormonville. Creation is basically hardwired into our psyche from birth. The chances of EVOLUTION winning was as likely as a pig sprouting wings.

But I was not well liked in high school, I was an epileptic, ADHD, anxiety riddled nerd. So MH's team got the votes for both the best argument and the most popular, because fuck me that's why. (And yeah, this sounds like my anxiety talking, but no these little shits told me that to my face.)

I can't remember how long exactly it was. Long enough that I got over it, but fresh enough I knew what he was talking about. But shortly after this shit show we have a fire drill. It was cold, it was miserable and I was ready to start cussing for the warmth.

MH comes up to me and the two friends I was with and tells me "Hey, I think it was crap that you lost. Your team had the better argument and was better articulated. I just wanted to let you know." And then melted back into the crowd of students.

I didn't think he knew what my name was, if I'm honest. But he came up to me and told me that I should have won. Even my friends were shocked. Now of course I was bitter about losing, because how could I not be? But the fact that the hottest guy in school came up to me and said that? I felt vindicated.

From that day on though? I was a staunch MH supporter. I was tell people that he was probably shy and very busy (you know with the whole acting jobs thing).

TL;DR: high school douche goes out of his way to tell me that I should won the on merit side of a stupid debate and I find out not a douche after all.

So why do I bring this up? Because of Steve Harrington. He has literally everyone saying he was an ass in high school. That he has to atone. But other than some instances where it was absolutely warranted we never really see Steve be a douche. Just typical teenager shit. And every time he does something "bad" he apologizes for it.

But all his friends are still giving him shit about it three years later. But not Jonathan who was an actual fucking criminal. Like he didn't have develop the sex pictures if he was looking for evidence of the thing that took his brother. I've developed film. The negative, while small gives you a pretty good indication of what would develop.

And yeah Nancy forgave him, but no one asked Steve if he forgave him. Because he was in those pictures, too. Steve was just as violated as Nancy was. And if the scene we see is any indication, Steve was probably more predominately featured than Nancy was, because he was on top. Meaning he would have covered her most of the time.

So no, I don't think Steve was a bully. No, I don't think he has anything to atone for that he hasn't already atoned for in fucking spades. I think he was always that same lovable dork he always was and Nancy had nothing to do with his "hero arc". But I have my own thoughts about Nancy that are way too long for this already massive dash stretcher.

/rant end

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Somebody to Heal, Somebody to Hold

(Joel Miller x dispensary! reader)

Chapter 3: Blue Dream

Chapter 1 here || Chapter 2 here || Main masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x dispensary! reader, AU (no outbreak) Word count: 4.7K Rating: 18+ MDNI, will be changed to explicit in future chapters (slow burn, eventual smut), swearing, discussions of drug use, discussions of disordered eating, age gap (reader is early 20s and Joel is late 40s) Summary: Joel can't rely on pills anymore for his back pain, so his doctor prescribes him medicinal marijuana. But he's not happy about it.

A/N: It's here y'all! Peepaw got high, and now he has the munchies. For food, as well as for the reader 🌚. This chapter was so fun to write, I loved fleshing out their progressing relationship. PEEPAW gets teased endlessly for being old (I couldn't resist), and he gains a smoking buddy 🥹. As always, thank you to my main hype woman, my ride or RIDE, @iamasaddie for beta'ing. Your excitement and support means the world to me!

Please comment and reblog if you liked it and want to see more of this series! I'm so in awe and appreciative of all the lovely comments and support I've received so far, you guys keep this story going!

❤️ 🌹 - N

In the midst of smoking with Joel, you had forgotten how long it had been since you last ate. The rumbles coming from his stomach reminded you pretty quickly though. You hum and chew the inside of your cheek as you think of possible food options to satisfy the munchies.

Although pretty much anything tastes better when you’re high, thanks to the way that THC heightens your senses, especially taste, you want to get something he will like. You’re not sure why you care so much but you want him to enjoy it, as part of his first smoking experience. 

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you start to scroll through UberEats to see what’s in the area. 

“Feel like eating anything in particular?”

Joel purses his lips together and hums. “Not really, I ain’t picky.”

You’re inclined to believe him but you still wanna mess with him, just a little bit.

“Ouh, there’s this really good vegan place in town that has good reviews and lot’s of options!” You look at him sideways and raise your eyebrows. 

“Uh,” He grimaces slightly before he can school his expression, “sure that sounds-” 

“I’m just fucking with you Joel” You lean in to shove him again as giggles start bubbling up from your chest. “I’d never eat that shit either, I love real food and meat too much to give it up”

“Thank fucking God,” he breathes out and runs a hand over his face. “I can’t stand it, everything is vegan this, vegan that. What happened to normal real food?”

You snort in response, still scrolling. And then something catches your eye.

“Oh shit! Apparently there’s a food truck festival happening at Bellwoods Park, just a couple minutes from here. There’s lots of different vendors, and it’s probably a lot cheaper than ordering take out. We’ll have to walk over but it’s not too far”

“Yeah, I’m up for that.” He perks up a bit and smiles at you.

No less than 20 minutes later you and Joel arrive at the food truck festival. You’re immediately surprised by how cozy and ambient it is. There’s numerous picnic benches in the middle of the grassy area and a few carnival games on the far end of the field for the kids. Twinkle lights are strung like a canopy over the entirety of the park, casting a molten amber glow over the festivities, complementing the warm hues of paper bunting strung from vendor truck to truck. People flock to the vendor trucks flanking the outside of the park perimeter. The smell of various fried foods and grills being fired up has your mouth watering and stomach growling again.

“Huh.” Joel whistled lowly, taking in the surroundings. “Been here for almost 20 years and I didn’t know this existed.”

“It looks like a seasonal thing that the city puts on every year, maybe there’s just more hype around it this year.” You surmise, following his gaze and looking around. “That or you just live under a rock.” A smirk sprawls across your face as you look back at him. 

He huffs out an exhale. “Wouldn’t be the first time I heard that.”

“Well, now’s your chance to explore,” gesturing to the lineup of trucks. The various vendors sell everything from shaved ice to burritos, to Korean bbq and Philly cheesesteak sandwiches. The options are endless. You’re about to suggest something to him when one truck in particular catches your eyes. 

“Oh my god, Smashburgers!” You make a beeline for the food truck, not even waiting to see if Joel follows you. The smell of charbroiled meat and greasy french fries fill your nostrils, creating another twinge of hunger in your stomach. It’s been ages since you had a good burger, and Rick’s Smashburgers was the best in town, you weren’t about to pass it up now. Sensing Joel’s broad presence approach your right side before you can turn around, you nod your head towards the menu plastered on the chalkboard against the side of the truck.

“Ricks has the best burgers in town by far. Trust me.” 

“Smashburgers? How are they any different from regular hamburgers?”

“They’re just better in general” you answer him as if it was obvious. He raises an eyebrow at you. “The patties are basically flattened or smashed and it makes them crispier and just better overall. Trust me.” Giving him your most pleading look, he sighs and looks at the menu, and then at the plates of burgers lined up at the window to be given to customers.

“They do look pretty damn good. Only-” he shifts his jaw and hesitates, “my doctor told me to stay away from red meat, and eat more veggies,” he grumbles defeatedly, staring at the menu like he wanted to burn a hole in it. 

You frown for a split second but it slowly morphs into a smile. Joel Miller is cute when he is grumpy. And for whatever reason, it actually warms your heart that he’s trying to be compliant with his doctor's orders. Still, you nod.

“Okay, well, we could always get something else. Althoughhhh” you pause for dramatic effect, “technically the burgers are thinner than regular burgers so there is less meat, and there’s lettuce and tomatoes on the burger.” You look sideways at him but he’s already shaking his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Who woulda thought I’d experience more peer pressure for eatin’ a burger than smokin’ weed. Jesus, I’m losin’ it.” The smile turns into a grin and there’s a glimmer in his eyes. 

“Sure darlin’, a smashburger sounds good.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------

If anyone had told Joel that in his lifetime he would eventually find himself at a festival surrounded by throngs of people, after smoking weed for the first time, with a woman he had just met, he would have told them to fuck right off. 

All because of his back pain. His godforsaken back pain. 

Admittedly, he had no idea what to expect when you said you would come over to show him how to smoke, but he definitely said a silent prayer when you offered, seeming to understand that the whole situation was embarrassing for him. You were so nice and personable. Just like you had been the day before when he came into the dispensary like a lost puppy.

The irrational part of him wanted to believe that you were just pitying him. Pitying a helpless middle aged man who’s geriatric aches and pains were running him into the ground. But your patience with him and calm reassurance about his concerns dismantled that theory. That, and the fact that you offered to come over after you got off work, during your free time. It didn’t seem like you were getting commission from going above and beyond with your customer service skills at the dispensary. What business would you have hanging out with a man who was at least two decades older than you?

Joel wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t blind to your beauty. Despite the playful banter you shared with him, and your wandering gaze that he caught dipping down to his lips and his body, he knew that he wouldn’t have a shot in hell with you. Regardless, he was buzzing with nervous energy when you knocked on his door.

Surprisingly, the actual smoking wasn’t as bad as he anticipated. Marijuana smoke tasted somewhat better than cigarette smoke. Weird, but better. The tang of the herb settled on his taste buds more easily than nicotine did during that one time he tried it all those years ago. 

It was actually enjoyable if he was being honest with himself. Although, he’s not sure if that’s because of your added presence or the weed actually doing its job. The monotony of inhaling and pulling from the joint, holding his breath for a few seconds and then exhaling slowly became muscle memory. The THC settled into his bloodstream as he felt the mellow warm buzz permeate his body and seep into his bones. The once aching flare of pain that was his constant companion no longer reared its ugly head, as he stretched beside you on the couch.  He genuinely couldn't believe it. 

He anticipated he would cough up a lung at one point or another, which he did. And he anticipated the back pain would be subdued, which it was. You also warned him of dry eyes and cotton mouth once the marijuana took effect in his system. Nevertheless, he’s caught off guard when his mouth goes bone dry and his eyes glaze over as he watches you do that trick. 

The french inhale. 

Seemingly mesmerized by the way the smoke pours out of your lips like viscous liquid, and the way you inhale it through your nose again, he all but loses it when you show him how to do the smoke rings. The way your plush lips pout, forming an O shape as you push the smoke out of your mouth, your cheeks slightly hollowed. You’re so close beside him that he can faintly smell the tropical notes of your shampoo and see the glassiness in your doe eyes when you smile at him. 

It’s the cruelest form of torture, he surmises. You're the sweetest siren, making the simplest gesture look sexy as hell. 

Caveman brain bouncing off the walls as he flexes his thighs, his left hand remains in his lap over his crotch while he curls his right hand into a fist. The sting of his nails digging into his palms keeps him tethered to reality, while he tries to ignore how tight the crotch of his pants are. 

But fuck, it’s a challenge when you keep looking at him like that, with a Cheshire cat grin plastered across your face.

His lust is interrupted soon enough when he feels his stomach let out the loudest rumble. And to his surprise your smile only gets wider in response.

It’s almost the same smile he’s witnessing in this moment, as he watches you take another big bite out of your burger and moan, almost pornographically. 

You both get burgers and decide to split some french fries for good measure. Nevermind the fact that you asserted, "a good burger isn't complete without a side of fries."

Trusting your judgment, Joel orders the same as you; a smashburger with crispy onions, lettuce, tomato, cheese and their special house BBQ sauce. Only no pickles for him, and extra bacon, cause why the fuck not?

Technically he’s following the doctor's orders. He’s already smoked the weed. The low cholesterol diet can start tomorrow.  

The burger is delicious. Like ridiculously delicious. 

“Damn” He says in between the first couple bites, “this is fucking good. Best burger I’ve had in a while actually.” Humming in agreement, you pop a couple fries in your mouth.

“I know right? I told you. Better than regular burgers.” 

They’re messy as hell but it’s worth it the minute the flavor of charred meat hits his tongue, the crispiness of the onions, coupled with the special sauce creating a mouthwatering combo.

You finish your burger at an alarming pace. Popping the last bite into your mouth, you grab a handful more of fries, dunking them into some ketchup. 

Christ, he thought he was hungry. You must have been starving considering it had been well over 5 hours since your lunch break. Before you can shove the fries in your mouth, you pause and raise your eyebrows at his ogling.

“What?”

“Nothing.” When you look at him expectantly he shakes his head. That small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just surprised you have a big appetite, s’all.”

Somewhat bemused by his words, you tilt your head. 

“Most women I know, they just eat salads and healthy crap. Always watching their weight and being picky with their food.” He smirks, nodding his chin towards your plate. “It’s just nice to see a woman who can actually throw down.”

Shaking your head, you snort. “Please, life is too fucking short to deprive yourself and worry about the shit you eat. I’d rather die with a full belly of food that I enjoy than eat like a rabbit.” 

At that he lets out a loud guffaw. Not only do you have a decent appetite but you also got quite the potty mouth on you. He shouldn’t find that so attractive but he does. 

“Also,” you flippantly wave a fry around in your hand, gesturing to the near empty tray of food sitting on the table between you two, “who wouldn’t want to eat when the food is this fucking good?” 

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he rolls his shoulders back and reclines in his seat with a wink. “Can’t argue with that logic darlin’.”

Over the next hour or so, you get to know bits and pieces about each other while picking at the remainder of fries.  Bouncing between topics, from food to work, to each other’s personal histories. Joel learns that your favorite food is pasta, grinning at you while you go off on a tangent about how pasta should be included as one of the main food groups. Doesn’t matter what kind of pasta, just pasta. 

His favorite meal is anything home cooked and southern. Of course, nothing beats a good old sirloin steak with roasted potatoes. He’s a sucker for cornbread too. Sweet desserts are his weakness he reveals, but he never usually gets them for himself, only bringing home treats when he knows his daughter Sarah will be in town. When Sarah isn’t home he’s usually at the mercy of fast food joints due to his work hours, “hence the high cholesterol,” he grumbles. 

That leads him to tell you about Sarah, how long he’s been in Austin, his job as a contractor. In return you tell him about going back to school and getting the dispensary job through Stef, just to have some money on the side. 

“I needed to throw myself into something after my ex and I broke up.” You sigh defeatedly and cross your arms, elbows resting on the table as you look down. “Naturally, I figured going back to school and getting a job would be the solution, only now it feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

At that confession, Joel raises his eyebrows in disbelief. Guilt and shame wash over your features.  It makes him frown, his eyebrows pinching together. Sadness isn’t a good look on you, and even though he’s known you for less than a day, he doesn’t like seeing that look cloud your face. 

“Fuck him,” he quips, “his loss.”

Huffing out an exhale, you fiddle with a crumpled napkin on your side of the tray. Ripping up small bits of the crinkled paper and rolling them between your fingers. “You don’t know the whole story.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Doesn’t matter, still sounds like he lost out.”

When you don’t look up at him, just continuing to rip up the napkin, biting the inside of your cheek, his voice softens.

“Sorry. It’s none of my business,” he backtracks, “you don’t have to tell me.”

At that you finally look up at him, “no, it’s okay Joel. Really. It’s been a while since we split.”

He nods slowly, waiting for you to continue.

“In the end we both wanted different things. He was ready to settle down, get married, buy a house, and start popping out kids. It took me a while to realize that that was far from what I wanted.” You stare off to the side, watching the kids at the far end of the field run throughout the maze of festival games. 

“I guess you could say we split amicably, but we were together for a long time," you continue on. "When it was over he didn’t hesitate to tell me that I would never find someone like him, that I’ll never find someone who would love me as much as he did, and how he did so much for me, blah blah blah. That kinda bullshit” You chuckle hollowly, folding your arms across your chest. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes again, silently cursing at the asshole who managed to convince you that you wouldn’t find someone better. 

Wishful thinking claws at his chest as he swallows. He knows he probably wouldn’t be that much better for you either. You’re warm, caring, funny, gorgeous with a sharp wit that he finds painfully endearing. Who wouldn’t want you?

He swallows before he speaks up again. “It happens that sometimes people grow apart, realize they have different values and want different things. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. It hurts but better you figure it out now rather than later. I learned that the hard way,” he says with a regretful smile. 

You shake your head, giving him an out before he says anything else. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Nah, it was a while ago. A long time ago. My ex and I, we had Sarah when we were real young.” He chuckles without any mirth. “Young and dumb. We had no idea what we were doing, but we both knew deep down it wouldn’t work. I was working ridiculous hours to make ends meet for us and she wasn't happy about that. We realized how different we truly were and figured it was for the best that we split.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” There’s concern in your eyes but you give him an empathetic smile. “But in the end, you got Sarah, right?”

Exhaling deeply, he nods and smiles softly. “Yeah. Thank God. She’s my whole life honestly. Gives me a reason to get up in the morning. She’s crazy smart, sometimes too smart for own good, but she has a heart of gold. Always wanting to help out others.”

He stares off into space, recalling his daughter's bright eyes, halo of curls, and her wide grin. God he missed her.  It’s only as he’s telling you this does Joel realize that he doesn’t really have a life outside of Sarah. She’s not at the age anymore where she needs constant care, she’s independent and living away from home. The only people he really sees regularly are Tommy, when he deigns to drop by the house, or when they work jobs together, and the guys on his team. But outside of work? He doesn’t really do much of anything or see much of anyone. It dawns on him that he leads quite the obstinate life.

“You mentioned she’s away at college?” Your question pulling him out of his placating thoughts.

“Yeah, she started last semester. She comes home when she has breaks and during holidays. It’s quiet without her around.” He isn't aware of the somber look that washes over his face, but you quickly pick up on it.

“I’m sure she misses you just as much.” You look at him earnestly and give him a small smile. 

He scoffs, “yeah right,” leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s living that freshman life. Classes, studying, partying,” he adds the last part hesitantly, with a bit of a bite. “She ain’t thinking about her old man too much.” 

Clicking your tongue, you give him a reprimanding look. “You keep saying you're old Joel but that’s a fat lie.”

He goes to interrupt you but you hold your hand up in front him. “I saw your driver's license back at the dispensary Joel. You’re not old. Just because you’re over 40, doesn’t mean you’re a fucking fossil. C’mon.” 

Seemingly accepting that he won’t be able to win this argument with you, he huffs and smirks, his arms still crossed over his chest.

“Whatever you say darlin’”

At that, you bite your lip and look down. The small terms of endearment fluster you. He likes seeing you flustered.

You pull your phone out of your pocket to check the time, and he feels himself deflate at the notion that you would have to go and that this night would come to a close. He hopes that you won’t tell him that you have to go. Already anticipating that disappointment he clears his throat and starts to stack the garbage on top of your tray.

“I’m pretty stuffed after the burger. Wanna walk around for a bit? See what else is around here.” You bite your lip, gauging his response.

Trying not to sound overly eager and excited, he smiles. “Yeah alright.”

No less than 30 minutes later, he finds himself strolling beside you around the perimeter of the festival lawn, a cup of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in his left hand, while you both take turns scooping spoonfuls. 

The tips of his fingers prickle from holding the frigid paper cup as he hums around another spoonful. “Chocolate chip cookie dough is okay, but I still think maple pecan is better,” he grumbles.

You groan. “Ugh, I’m not getting into this again Joel,” glaring at him out of the corner of your eye as you lick the back of your spoon. “I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt with the whole old man thing but maple pecan is an old man flavor. Sorry not sorry. You might as well suck on a Werther’s candy”

“Jesus,” he scoffs. “A Werther’s original? Why don’t I just put on some suspenders, get some bifocals, and sit in the park with the paper every morning.”

“Mmm, you never know. I think bifocals would really suit you,” Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek. Giggles bubbling up in your chest, while Joel shakes his head.

“I’m just saying, even plain vanilla would have been a better choice. A redeemable choice. Maple pecan is almost as bad as..” you wrinkle your nose while thinking of a comparison, “rum and raisin.”

Just as you go to scoop another spoonful out of the cup, Joel stretches his left arm up and back behind him, holding the cup out of your reach. You don’t bother to jump up to reach the cup as He shamelessly enjoys the sight of how he dwarfs over your tiny frame. 

“Hey! Joel-” 

He says your name in return solemnly, but the corners of his mouth curl upwards ever so slightly. “You take that back right now. That’s a classic.”

“It has raisins in it! You can’t be serious! Dried up grapes have no business being in ice cream man, it’s criminal.”  You huff out a breath and look up at him in exasperation. 

“Didn’t know you were so passionate about ice cream.” He has a shit eating grin on his face at this point. Completely enamored by how cute you are when you’re annoyed. He can’t help but tease you a bit more. 

“You know I was havin’ a real good time tonight darlin’ but that’s my last straw.”  

Rolling your eyes, you smirk. “Just like that huh? You’re stone cold Joel Miller. Alright then, but good luck finding another smoking buddy who can teach you really cool tricks”

At that, he relents. Dropping his arm back down to his side. 

“Smoking buddy?”

You’d want to smoke with him again?

The term you coined has his mind melting into mush, and his stomach doing flips at the possibility of seeing you again. 

“You’d wanna do this again? I mean- you'd want to smoke together?” He asks pensively, his amber eyes rounded as he looks down at you.

“Yeah,” you peek up at him through your lashes. “Why not? I’m always down to smoke. Plus I still gotta teach you how to roll your own joints, and maybe how to do some tricks as well.”

Winking at him you add on, “save you some money so that you don’t have to keep coming to the dispensary for your pre rolls.”

He presses his lips into a thin line before he can spit out the Pavlovian response on the tip of his tongue. Joel knows he would have come to the dispensary anyway to see you, regardless of if he was going to buy anymore weed. Hell, he would use any excuse he could to see you again. But he decides against telling you that.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, and licking his lips, his mouth opens slightly as his gaze dances across your face. From your eyes, down to your lips, and back up again. You’re so close. So close he could reach out, curl a finger into one of your belt loops, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush. 

“I’d really like that darlin’”

You tilt your head and gaze up at him. “Good.” You glance briefly at your phone and frown. “I do have to go now though. I’m opening at the dispensary tomorrow so I should get some sleep. As should you,” you give him another playful shove, “old man.”

He grumbles in response.

You exchange numbers before heading your separate ways, sending him off with a warm smile. The same smile you greeted him with when he first stepped into the dispensary and nearly had a panic attack. “This was fun Joel. Text me next time you wanna smoke.”

Pausing for sec and squinting your eyes in mock concern, you ask him “Wait, you do know how to text right?” 

You attempt to bite back a laugh with no success as he swats at you like a fly, and you jump backwards, dodging the swipe of his big hands. “Yes little miss, I know how to fuckin' text.” He makes a noise of disapproval and narrows his eyes at you. "Cheeky." 

You’ve only known him for less than 24 hours and you already know how to push his buttons. 

Though he's not really annoyed in the slightest. He allows it. What's more is that he actually likes it. Really likes it. The playful banter and flirting that you throw his way, he’s more than happy to return it. 

Your chuckles die down. “Alright alright, just checking, relax.”

You send him a quick text with your name, and his phone pinging right away. 

“I’ll see you around Joel.”

“See ya around darlin’” He drawls with a grin as he watches you turn to leave.

There’s a pep in Joel’s step as he walks back home. Contentment mixed with anxious excitement. The effects of the high have faded quite a bit, and his head clears as he continues down the sidewalk to his house. He’s pretty happy. Unreasonably happy for someone who just spent the evening with a woman he barely knows. But he felt like he got a deeper glimpse into who you are. What’s more surprising is that he wants to know more. He wants to know more about you. Wants to do more things with you.

Do more things to you.

But again, he keeps that to himself for fear of ruining whatever is slowly building between you two.

Trudging up the porch stairs, he glances at his watch.

10:02 p.m.

He considers texting you to see if you got home safe. 

No. He didn’t need you thinking he was a desperate creep. As he crosses the threshold and closes the door behind him, he leans back against it, his head thudding against the wood. 

Just then, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the familiar ping sound resounding through the empty front hallway of his house.

[You]: “Hey! Just wanted to make sure you got in okay, seeing as it’s much past your bedtime 👴🏼”

Huffing out a chuckle, he rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the flutter in his chest that you texted him first. His fingers fumble as he squints at the screen to type out a response. 

[Joel]: “Could say the same for you. What happened to getting sleep because you work early tomorrow?” 

He could leave it there and just see what you say. But the excitement from the evening as well as simmering current of lust running through his body has him feeling bold. He wants to push a little bit more.

[Joel]: “Naughty girl.” He bites his lip before hitting send.

The three little dots appear and reappear a handful of times as you start to type and then stop.

Shit. Was that too far? Did he just fuck up any chance he had at seeing you again because he has no self control? Probably. It was so hard to restrain any sort of control when you made it so easy to tease back. Your playfulness and doe eyes are a wicked force to be reckoned with, and it only made Joel want you more. 

Waiting for you to text him back and tell him to fuck off, or politely shut it down, his mouth gapes open when you do finally respond. 

[You]: “Never said I was a good girl 👀”

He exhales harshly. “Fucking hell.” His fingers tapping furiously as he sends the next message.

[Joel]: “That so? I don’t believe that. You’ll have to prove me wrong next time darlin.”

Your response comes lightning fast. Nothing else aside from a series of suggestive emoji's.

[You]: Goodnight Joel 😈 🍃 🔥 💨

Joel clenches his jaw and exhales deeply. He shoves his phone back in his coat pocket, and rubs his hand over his face.

What has he gotten himself into?

[bluestripedspeedo]

Indiscreet - 05. In the Mood for Love Pairing: Writer/Producer!Javi Gutierrez x you (Hollywood AU) SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter summary: This is it. The Big Moment. Chapter warning: NSFW, NC-17, mature, no minors allowed. Discussion of safety, oral (both you and Javi), PIV, dirty talk, daddy kink (not the DDLG kind), age gap (mid 20s and mid 40s). Word count: 9.8k

Playlist: Dress - Taylor Swift So It Goes

Author's note: I had this in the queue two years ago, then life got in the way and I abandoned it. I've decided to return because I feel I have a responsibility to finish what I started, so here it is, the very long awaited smut chapter!

I've also decided to tweak the previous chapters a lot because I've changed as a person in these two years, so it's better to reread those first, as a refresher too. When I first started writing this, it was going to be about a pandemic/quarantine romance - it was initially inspired by The Bubble's premise anyway. But... that's old news now, and I don't feel like going back to that space of mind. You fall in love under different circumstances now.

Enjoy and apologies for my absence. I promise to be here more often!

✧✧✧

Day 9

The wrap party is held at the villa where you’d been filming for the past week. All of the cast and crew members are present except for one glaring absence – Dieter Bravo. He’d left the set faster than Óscar could even announce it’s a wrap. In full costume, no less.

Javi has to do something about that. Dieter’s a brilliant actor, that’s undeniable, but his public image hasn’t been positive lately. Hunger Strike helped him sweep the awards season, and if Dieter could be a little more professional, Javi wouldn’t mind pushing the campaign for his work in this too. He’s lucky he physically resembles Javi a little… As long as Javi keeps writing self-insert characters into his scripts, Dieter will always have a job waiting. 

The dinner part of the party is over – people are scattered around the garden mingling and draining the last bottles of champagne and making plans for the few days off until work resumes in London.

“Óscar,” you sit down between him and Javi. They have settled on the chairs they dragged to the corner to overlook the sea while they drink and smoke. “I’m gonna go with those guys. They’ll drive me back.”

Your head nudges towards the group laughing boisterously on the steps of the villa. Some are crew, some are your co-stars that you’ve been working with since the start of the production, and some are new local actors hired just for the duration of the shoot here. They’ve made such a tight knit group you’re surprised that they even asked you to come along at all.

“Taking the party elsewhere?” Óscar asks.

“Yeah… we’re going to Saint-Tropez.”

“We could go with you. If you want.” Javi carefully masks his hopeful tone.

“We’re gonna hit up some clubs...”

“You’re way too old for that.” Óscar slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“Right,” Javi drinks the rest of his cognac in one gulp and pours another, since he’s not going anywhere tonight by the looks of it. “Might displace my hip on the dance floor or something.” 

You laugh. “You’re good. It’s just… I never went out with any of them, so… could be fun.” 

“Oh my God, go, we’re not your parents,” Óscar shoos you. “Just be on the boat on time tomorrow. And ask the others, too.”

“Will do, Dad.”

Javi chokes on his drink and Óscar snorts. He gets up when the cinematographer and boom operator drunkenly call for his attention. “Have fun, kid.” 

“Take care of yourself. Don’t drink too much.” Javi says once Óscar is safely out of hearing distance. He didn’t see you drinking at all during dinner despite the free flowing alcohol and now he suspects it’s because you’ve planned on going all out for the after party. He doesn’t mean to be controlling, but he’s supportive of your intention to cut back and he doesn’t really trust that party crowd to look after you. Not that he thinks you couldn’t do it yourself, but it would give him a peace of mind if you were going to be inebriated.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. I just feel like I should go. They’re my castmates. I haven’t spent much time with them, or even at all.” All thanks to the man sitting across from you, but you have no regrets. “And, you know, networking.”

“We both know you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he grins. “Where are you going? Do you know yet?”

“No, but probably something really cliche like Les Caves or VIP.”

“Is Elise coming too? I don’t see her.”

“She left. Like ten minutes ago. Don’t ask me how I know and don’t tell anyone, but she’s following Dieter.” 

Oh, shit. Javi’s eyes go wide. 

“Hey, don’t ask.”

Javi is incredulous. Is he that oblivious to even his actors now? He’s on set most days and he always keeps a closer eye on them to anticipate any on set drama. He’s known them both for as long as he’s been in the industry and he usually could get a good read on these things. Takes one to know one. Maybe he’s really been that distracted.

“What about Ross? Is he coming with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” A coy smile slowly forms on your lips.

“Nothing. I heard he asked you out.” He looks away from you into the distance. 

You fake a gasp. “Were you eavesdropping on me?”

“He was pretty damn loud about it.”

“Then you know I told him I have a boyfriend, right?”

“I thought so. The way his face fell. If only he could emote that well on camera.”

“Javi! That’s mean!”

“You know I’m not wrong.”

He’s right. You might be new, but you figured a while ago Ross couldn’t have been cast for his talents but rather his heartthrob status for maximum PR.

“So who’s the boyfriend?” Javi playfully side eyes you and you nudge your knee to his. “Can’t be me, too old for that.”

“Uh huh. Let’s see…” You pretend to think. “Man-friend? Lover?”

Javi groans and makes a face.

“Ooh, I know,” you look at him seductively. “Daddy.”

“Careful.” Fuck.

“Wow… I…” your eyes widen. This is definitely interesting. “...can’t wait to explore that.”

“It only sounds hot coming from you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Any cute nicknames for me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He throws you a teasing glance. “You could’ve found out an hour from now, give or take.” You look at him in question, so he continues. “I have a whole surprise planned – had.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“‘Surprise’ being the key word there, babe.”

“I could tell them–”

“No, forget I said anything. Go have fun.”

“But–”

“Honey. We can’t exactly hang out with each other’s friends, so when you have the chance to be with them, you go, okay? I’ll be fine.” He might be seeing things but he swears he sees your eyes tear up… with relief. Why do you need permission so badly?

“Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“I can’t promise I’ll still be up. I’m ooooold.” He leans back on his chair, taking his time to admire you in your low cut dress under the guise of having a casual, professional conversation. 

“Hm, so is it your idea or Óscar’s to go to the casino tomorrow? That’s some old people shit.” The lightness comes back in your tone.

“Noitsnot.” Javi answers too quickly.

“Yeah, right. Looking forward to playing the jackpot?”

“I’ll have you know I’ll sweep you at poker.” 

“If you say so. I’ll make sure to wear something interesting to distract you.”

“That’s cheating but I’ll allow it.”

“And meanwhile,” you shift so he could get a better look at your cleavage. “Think about what could’ve happened if you’d told me your plans first.”

“Ah, so my usual thoughts. That’s easy.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “I didn’t come last night, daddy.”

He suppresses a groan. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“I had to. You made me so wet.” 

“I offered to take care of you, baby.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t come. I wanted to wait for you.”

“Fuck.”

“Well, now we’re even. See you tomorrow.”

You get up and leave to join your friends, leaving him hard and wanting as he pulls out a new cigarette. 

✧✧

Day 10

You are positively trying to kill him today. As if the thought of you touching yourself right under his room wasn’t enough to make his balls about to explode, now you’re lounging in the red one piece that drove him crazy a couple of months ago. He tries hard, very hard, to look at literally anything else. He hopes no one notices how long he’s been ‘taking pictures’ of the oceanic view. 

And it gets worse. When it’s time to dress up to the nines for the night, he puts on a light blue suit jacket, but you… you go beyond what you promised. You arrive last to the casino and in that moment, it’s as if everything in the room stops. It stirs something in him too when he sees people checking you out as you walk past them. 

“You look so handsome.” You tell him once you’re close enough. Óscar had gone straight to the high rollers table upon arrival, taking a few crew members on his dime. But Javi’s content with sitting around nursing his drink, waiting for you.

“This isn’t fair.” He gives you a quick once over.

“You like it?” You’re not usually one to wear something so revealing, but Javi makes you bold. You were saving this up for a proper date with him back in London, but there’s no time like the present. You can’t even be shy about showing so much because you need to elicit his reaction.

“It’s fucking fantastic.”

“You should see it on the floor.”

He drops his head and sighs heavily, then he points his drink towards the slot machines. “One round and we’re leaving.”

“What happened to poker? Are you chickening out?” You challenge him.

“No, but it takes much more time.”

“Excuses, excuses…” From here, you can see Óscar in your line of sight. “Why don’t we leave after he wins? Then he’ll be busy with the next round to notice us, right?”

“That’d be a while. He sucks.”

“Go and help him, then. Oh, how are we getting back?”

“We’re not. I’m getting us a suite.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s a lot less private around here. People talk.”

You’re right, and logistically it’s more difficult to explain both of your absences for the night and potentially tomorrow morning. The yacht isn’t an option, either.

“Let’s Uber, then.”

“Yeah, we can’t do that. It doesn’t work here.”

He studies your face while he calculates his options. “Sit tight, I have an idea.”

✧

The ‘idea’ turns out to be buying a fellow gambler’s car with his winnings. Of all things you expected to happen today, finding yourself in the backseat of a Pagani was not one. Javi was a few hundred thousand short but he didn’t think the guy cared that much. From the way he had been gawking at Javi and Óscar since they walked in, he probably would’ve given it away for free. His immaculate taste in cars was just a nice bonus. Plus, the color matches his suit. 

“I just have to send his kids some signed merch and arrange them a tour of the Beskar set. Great deal, huh?”

“You billionaires are weird.” You shake your head in amusement.

He starts the car and the revving attracts a few passersby. “What did you tell Óscar?” 

“That I’m tired and everyone else is busy having fun. He didn’t even blink.”

“Let’s hope they’ll keep him occupied ‘til tomorrow.”

The two of you ride in silence, enjoying the vast view of hills and sea, away from the city lights. Javi is relaxed and concentrated, and it gives you a warm, calm feeling seeing him this way.

“It’s been a long time since I drove a sports car. This is a vast improvement from the last one, though, definitely.” He looks over to your side, clearly enjoying his time. “Better looking passenger, too.”

“Pfft, come on! So cheesy.”

“I’m serious… It was with Nic.” Javi says with a chuckle. “You should’ve seen how everyone was looking at you.”

“Can’t say I noticed.”

“Hmm-mm. They were.”

“Did you like it? Or were you jealous?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I get jealous when I see other women checking you out. I’m not too proud to admit that.”

“But they don’t hold a candle to you. So don’t worry.”

“Same here. Don’t want anyone else.”

You caress his arm up to his shoulder where he turns his head to give your hand a kiss. Then you lightly travel down to tug at the buttons on his stomach, then his belt, then the zipper of his pants… you let out a soft moan when he involuntarily bucks towards your hand. Feeling brave, and to his surprise, you cup him over the material and he lets out a heavy groan. 

“Behave, baby. You keep that up and we won’t make it there.”

“Okay, but drive faster. Feels so heavy, Javi. I want it all in me. Make it fit.” Turning him on turns you on.

His hands on the steering wheel turn white. “Fuck yes baby you’re gonna take it. Wearing that dress like you’re begging to be fucked. I knew everyone in there pictured your bare tits.”

Oh. Your jaw drops. That’s… unexpected. You squeeze him in response and he immediately takes away your hand to clasp it above his knee.

“You’re so fucking naughty. Teasing me every day.” Javi’s deep voice drops a few more octaves and it makes you squirm. “What happened to waiting, hm?”

“I can’t. I’m tired of fingering myself to sleep, every night.” 

“Yeah? What did you think about when you did it?”

“Yours in me… mine aren’t thick enough, Javi,” you sigh from your own admission. “Your tongue. Feeling your mustache on me. You stretching m–”

You gasp when Javi suddenly grips your hand tightly. You’ve never seen Javi look this intense before. His nostrils flare, his eyes darken, and his breathing becomes so heavy you can hear it in the silence. 

“Want you fucking my mouth, daddy,” you continue, making him grip you again to the point of almost hurting. 

“You–” His mouth forms into a snarl. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You bring up his hand that grips you to run his thumb along your lips to nibble on it. You do the same to each finger, eyes looking at him putting all his effort into concentrating on the road ahead. He finally turns his head when you slip his middle finger past your lips to the knuckle, giving it a languid, sensual suck. A teaser of what’s to come. 

“Fuck, baby. You have to stop.” Javi lets out a moan as he focuses back on the road and you keep swirling your tongue around him, rubbing the underside back and forth as if it were–

You have an idea.

You hope you won’t crash and die on these hills. 

Your other hand makes a quick work hiking up your dress and your mouth lets go of his finger and you guide your hand and his between your thighs and–

Javi lets out an angry growl when his hand meets your soaked panties. “You get this wet from talking?”

“It’s you, Javi…” He starts rubbing you through the material and you throw your head back on the seat, moving your hips along with his movement. 

Then you have another idea.

You recline the seat, shimmy your ruined panties off, and drape your leg over the console to spread yourself open. The cold that hits you is nothing compared to the warmth of his massive hand so close to your center. Javi’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of their sockets. He can’t see you clearly in the dark, but he can definitely feel your wetness on the leather. 

“Please, Javi… I don’t wanna wait.”

Javi mutters something under his breath, his one hand on the wheel shaking. He didn’t plan on doing this here, or even tonight. He was going to surprise you with a private dinner the other night, and tonight he only wanted to take you back to the villa just so you could stop pretending you’re just coworkers when work is already done - for the time being, anyway. He thought it would be PG at best, but… he’s not complaining. But he’s driving, and he’s thisclose to losing control. 

But on the other hand, is your exposed pussy begging for his touch. And Javi’s only a man.

So Javi decides to be a gentleman and give you what you ask for. He starts by running his hand over your mound, groaning at the smoothness. Then he moves his hand further down and spreads your wetness over his hand and yourself, fingers parting your lips along the way. You don’t dare to look down because even a mere glance of Javi’s hand working on you would make you come, you’re sure of it. 

But you do anyway, just as his finger starts to rub your clit in circular motions, making you fall back on the seat with a loud moan. He continues and puts more pressure as you squirm and writhe, restrained by the seatbelt across your torso, keening sounds filling the small space.

He wishes he could watch you. Maybe he should pull over, get you off, then drive again after you’re both satisfied? But he really doesn’t wanna do it in a car that hasn’t even been his for an hour. You deserve better, somewhere more comfortable, even when you’re so desperate now.

Luckily the GPS says they’re only 5 minutes away.

5 minutes too long.

“Javi…” your pleading moan takes him back into the situation at hand, and he gets the hint. You need more. 

So he gives you more. His middle finger prods your entrance and enters you without warning, making you bite your lip in pleasure. Your two that usually keep you busy on many lonely nights is nothing in comparison to his thick one. His knuckles on the steering wheel go white when you clench around him as he tries to find your spot without even looking in your direction. 

3 minutes.

Should he, or should he not make you come? It’s fucking hot, seeing you grip the armrest and your toes curling, hearing you loudly cry when he adds another finger, the squelch of your pussy equally as loud as your wanton moans to his ears. DRIVEDRIVEDRIVEyouresocloseDRIVEsoclose

The GPS doesn’t even get to announce your arrival before he carelessly parks the car in the driveway. His fingers leave your core to your dismay and he doesn’t give you a moment before pulling his seatbelt off and lurches on to you, grabbing your face in a passionate kiss and smearing your wetness on his fingers on your neck. 

“Javi…” you try to get a word in between kisses. “Let’s– let’sgoinsidebaby–”

Reluctantly he pulls back from you, eyes as dark as the night. With a heavy sigh, Javi exits the car and helps you out, your panties forgotten on the floor.

✧

Javi opens the front door and doesn’t even get to turn on the lights when a moaning sound from somewhere inside freezes you both.

“Óscar…?” Javi tries, as much as he knows it couldn’t be him. The moans persist and turn into groans. “Uh… stay here. Call security, please, honey.”

“NO!” 

“Dieter?!” Javi says incredulously to which the man answers with another groan. You close the door and follow Javi to the living room.

“Hey, man. Sorry to crash.”

Dieter is passed out on the couch, hair strewn in every direction, barely dressed in a pair of boxers and a wrinkled green bathroom robe. He’s holding a corked bottle of wine that threatens to slip out of his grasp that he clearly struggled to open with his bare hands before. By his feet is a spilled, empty glass of whatever he was having and an unlit joint that already burned a hole through the velvet material. It’s a shitshow.

“How did you even get in here?”

“I climbed. Your security is shit.”

“Yeah, thanks. Why are you here?”

“Why are you so pissy?”

At that moment, you come into his view and Dieter’s reddened eyes stare at you quizzically before noticing your smeared lipstick… and your see-through front that you try to cover as much as you can with your very small clutch.

And then he has the audacity to drop his gaze onto Javi’s tented lap.

“Oooooohhhhh. No fucking way. You’re so dead.”

“Hi… Dieter.” You try to meet his eyes so he wouldn’t look anywhere else, particularly your… private area.

“Holy shit. Does Óscar know?”

You glance at Javi who keeps glaring at Dieter in anger. His patience is running thin.

“Dieter. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

“I got high and Elise threw a fucking fit because I was balls de– I was with my PA. Don’t look at me all judgy like that. You’re also tapping this hot piece of a–”

“Shut up!” Javi barks. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Chill the fuck out, Javi.” Dieter rolls his eyes and gives you a salute. “Great dress… beautiful dress.”

“Stop.”

“Okay. Damn.”

“Go back to your room, Dieter.”

“Can’t. She’s in there.”

“That’s your problem.”

“You go and fuck each other’s brains out. I’ll sit here and be quiet.”

“Out, Dieter. I give you ten seconds. Ten.” Javi starts counting.

“Really?”

“I’m getting a drink.” You announce to no one. Luckily there’s a throw blanket on the nearest chair and you’re able to swiftly cover yourself in it.

Dieter gets up and stumbles right behind you to the kitchen. “Great idea!”

“Hey!” Javi’s growl echoes throughout the house and he stalks after Dieter, grabbing him by the collar of his robe. “Nine.”

“Let go of me, man.”

“I’ve had it with you, Dieter. You got arrested, you ran off set, you mess around with my crew–”

“Oh and that rule doesn’t apply to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I make the rules.”

“Yeah? I thought Óscar does.”

“Eight, Dieter. Watch it.”

“Hey, I never asked.” Dieter smirks at you. “How old are you? Twenty?”

“Four years ago, I was.” You tell him nonchalantly at the same time that Javi says “don’t answer him.”

Dieter looks over his shoulder at Javi and barks out a mocking laugh. “You have one year to leave him for Leo. Nice.”

“That’s it, we’re done.” Javi’s grip tightens on Dieter’s robe and he starts to drag him back out. All this male posturing is really wearing you off. You can’t take this back and forth between them anymore. This was supposed to be a fun night for you. 

“I have seven more, don’t I?”

“Just… let him stay, Javi. I’m tired anyway.” You let out an exaggerated sigh and fill up another glass with water and put it on the kitchen island, motioning to Dieter that it’s for him. You bury your face in your hands, softly massaging your temples while Javi goes to stand by your side with his back facing Dieter. You reach out until you find his hand and you squeeze it softly, silently assuring him it’s not his fault.

The three of you stand around in silence while Dieter sips his water and Javi eventually stops clenching from anger. When he’s done drinking, Dieter finally looks like he knows what guilt is.

“Sorry for ruining your night.”

“Hmm.” “No shit.” You and Javi reply in unison.

“You two gonna tell Óscar about this?”

“None of your business.” Javi turns around to face him with a finality in his tone. “And whatever is going on with Elise, sort that out before we’re back to filming.”

“I don’t have any more scenes.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’ve told you I’ve taken up that other job.”

“What other job?”

“Cliff Beasts.”

You snort and raise your head. “Cliff Beasts? Really?”

He shrugs. “Money’s good.”

“Use that for rehab.” Javi snarks.

“Who else is in it?” You sincerely wonder. You were too young to watch the original in theaters when it came out, but the franchise keeps getting more and more ridiculous with each sequel. You keep up just to understand the memes, like everyone does. 

“The entire old cast is coming back. Even Carol Cobb.”

“Cool. Love her.”

“And new people your age. They keep telling me they’re from TikTok. What’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismiss his question. He should stay in the dark about that. The world doesn’t deserve to witness Dieter’s shenanigans on that app. 

You rinse your glass and pat Javi’s arm. “I’m going to bed.”

Javi watches you walk away and waits until you close your bedroom door before he scolds Dieter. “You saw nothing, heard nothing. No one will know about this.”

“Okay.”

“One slip up and I won’t vouch for you anymore.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll be gone tomorrow morning before we’re up. Sort your shit out.”

“Heard you.”

Javi leaves him to go up to his room and he hears Dieter call out a thanks when he’s halfway past the stairs. He has no energy to acknowledge it.

✧

And gone before they’re up, he did. Óscar didn’t even see him when he finally got back around 7 AM and the rest of the day was spent shuffling around to pack. Javi had to arrange the shipment of the new car he acquired too. There was no time to talk about last night, or talk at all, because Javi’s private plane was already waiting on the tarmac for whenever they’re done and ready to leave. 

Óscar is passed out from hangover across from him while you occupy the front of the plane. Busy on your phone, as usual. From his position he can somewhat make out an Escher-looking game. There’s only 30 minutes left before the plane lands in London and he has about 15 before Óscar wakes up.

“So,” he moves next to your seat and speaks in a whisper. “Where are you going after we land?”

“I have to check into my hotel. Why are we whispering?”

“Do you want to just stay at mine? For the rest of the shoot?”

It’s very tempting. But logistically it’ll only call attention to you. You can’t exactly get away with staying at the producer’s house for an entire month. It’s bad enough that Ava knows and now Dieter too. “And tell my PA what?”

“That you’re renting your own place? Staying with a friend?”

“They need to know where they’re picking me up every day.”

“That’s easy. I’ll drive you.”

“Yes, that won’t be suspicious at all.”

Javi sighs in defeat. You’re right, again. Óscar stirs in his seat and Javi waits until he stills again to propose his solution. Except Óscar doesn’t and is fully awake now and asking if they’re there yet.

“I’ll text you,” he mouths.

✧✧

London, three days later 

What he proposed in the text didn’t come into fruition. He’d told you to check in, repack your necessities, and he’ll pick you up to go to his place. Only go to your hotel when you need new clothes. It’s not a bad idea, but it doesn’t matter anyway because you didn’t even get to unpack before Javi informed you that he’d be busy and couldn’t pick you up. 

So you’ve been staying in your room, alone, since you got back, flicking through the script for next week and for a new series Javi sent you this morning. “Ten episodes, HBO. Whichever role you want.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it turns out acting doesn't interest you that much and someone else would be more grateful for the opportunity. He also told you he offered Dieter the same project, who accepted it on the spot. But Dieter needs to complete Cliff Beasts first before this starts production, so you have time until then to tell Javi.

Who is now calling you. You pick up on the first ring.

“Hey, baby.” His voice sounds tired and it’s barely dark. He’s been occupied with meetings and prep, hence his absence. “Wanna go for dinner in an hour?”

“I just finished eating room service. We could go for drinks, though?”

“I don’t wanna be buzzed. I need to be up early tomorrow,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I miss you.”

Your heart aches, knowing the effort he puts into his work and how much it means to him and Óscar. You know how badly he wants his production company to be on par with the big league studios. You know how much thought and research and passion he puts into each of his films. All of that doesn’t even count running his family business on top of everything too - the legal one, the only one that still exists. It hasn’t been the same since a new guy took over from his ex and because of that Javi has to be more hands on in every decision making, or so he told you.

“Miss you too. Where are you right now?”

“Amsterdam.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Didn’t I tell you this morning?”

Definitely no, you would’ve remembered. “No, but– why?”

“Business stuff. Anyway, I’m about to take off.”

“Okay, umm…” You try to think of an idea quickly, still dumbfounded by the new information. “Why don’t you… come over tonight?”

“I’m just gonna disappoint you, babe. I’m so tired.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t mean– we don’t have to– just have dinner here and sleep. Like, sleep sleep.”

There’s silence on the other hand as Javi thinks it over. 

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Two hours later, Javi rings on your door and you open it in your underwear and a loose t-shirt that doesn’t go past your waist. The way Javi’s eyes widen is so comical that you’d laugh if he didn’t immediately slam the door to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours as he does.

“Should’ve brought you with me… missed you so much.”

You whimper as you try to pry open his buttons. 

“I really can’t, baby…” He pulls your fingers off him, kissing each one before he lets go and rolls over onto his back. 

Next thing you know you hear his soft snores. His feet dangle from the bed and he’s still very much fully clothed. 

You give him a chaste kiss and pull the blanket over your bodies and fall asleep too.

✧

You wake up to the soft buzzing of a hair dryer and a ring of the doorbell. The room is dimmed and it’s still dark outside. You get up groggily to get the door and walk past the dining table filled with freshly prepared breakfast. Neat.

There’s no one outside when you open it, but an inconspicuous brown paper bag sits on the floor with a note attached that addresses the package to a ‘Mr. José Estrada’. What…?

“That’s for me, babe.” Javi comes out of the bathroom in a towel folded up to above his stomach and his hair uncombed. It’s… adorable. You’re still not awake enough to appreciate it and merely raise your eyebrows at the name on the bag. Javi shrugs and takes the package from you. “Clothes. Just to be careful. Mornin’.”

He leans down to kiss you but you turn away, muttering about morning breath. He snickers and goes back in to change.

Javi is still in the living room having breakfast when you emerge again, freshly showered too. He’s in a pair of slacks and a white half-buttoned shirt, like he just got home from work instead of going to it. He looks too devastatingly handsome for this early. He guides you by the back of your knees to sit on his lap and you definitely, definitely wobble.

“What are you doing today?” You ask him while he peppers kisses on your neck.

“On set for half the day. Then I’m free.” He pulls back to stroke your cheek. “Stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner.”

The implication is clear in his eyes. 

✧✧

Of course you didn’t get to find out what he was going to cook for you. What is it with the universe conspiring against you having a wholesome, uninterrupted night with this man? Okay, maybe that’s why, because you’re not really aiming for wholesome. Instead of his house, you’re at Carlotta with him and a few of his celebrity friends, including Dieter and Elise. It’s been three hours and the chatter has gone cold and the wine warm.

“...maybe it’s just like a month off? I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Apparently the other unions are considering it too.”

“What else?”

“Directors, Writers, Visual Effects, who knows what else. It’s gonna be chaotic.”

You don’t even care what’s being talked about anymore. Someone needs to get the bill before smoke comes out of your ears. You know you didn’t have to be here, of course, but you didn’t want to wait around in your room either and you were hungry. Javi had called you from set to let you know about this last minute dinner that someone arranged in the guise of business networking. Óscar still had scenes to direct and told Javi to go on his own. He knew Javi had nothing to do for the rest of the day. And Javi couldn’t exactly tell him he actually had plans with you.

You weren’t pissed initially - you were enjoying yourself, even. But the two smartly dressed thirty-something women four tables over who have been eyefucking Javi for the past half hour? The statuesque former VS model who sent him a negroni and her Ritz room key? That’s not even his drink of choice, you sneer in your head. Nice try.

You’re not jealous of them, no, Javi is going home with someone at the end of the night and it’s not with any of them. But the way he looks right now and the way that he’s wanted, turn you on so much. That pisses you off. Because this dinner couldn’t finish soon enough.

“I’m gonna drop by Loulou’s after this, you wanna come?” Elise asks next to you. “Ross is already there.”

You look over to Javi… who is signing the check, thank fucking God.

✧

Neither of you even made it to his house last night.

He’d barely parked his car, that ostentatious blue thing, in his driveway when you climbed over the console to sit on his lap.

“Thank you for dinner,” you murmured into his exquisite neck, leaving a mark with your teeth. Tacky, you knew.

“You’re the only one who’s ever said that to me,” he looked at you with a hint of wistfulness. You felt a pang in your heart at his confession.

“Of course I’m grateful, Javi.” You kissed him softly while you twisted the curls around the nape of his neck. “I’ll show you how much.”

Then his phone rang.

And it was Óscar telling Javi to go to his place for last minute rewrites, again.

So regretfully, he had to drop you at your hotel on the way. And naturally this morning you woke up really, really annoyed.

“You know what, this is ridiculous.” You call him over lunch. Room service, again.

“I agree.”

“We should clear out our schedule.”

“Let’s do that.”

“You know I mean yours, right?”

Javi sighs. “I know. I’m gonna sort that out right now. How was your sleep?”

“Eh. I’ve had better. Yours?”

“Shitty. I passed out on the floor.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. I’m getting a massage as we speak.”

“On set?”

Javi grunts and you snort in jealousy.

“Tell you what. Book a res–”

“Absolutely not. It’s never gonna happen if we go out, Javi. There’s always… something. Like… some kind of weird divine intervention.”

He giggles from the other side. Actually giggles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious.”

Which makes him fully laugh. “I’ve cleared out my week. I’m all yours.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Daphne’s or Clos Maggiore?”

“Or.”

“Baby. Come on.”

“Let’s just… have coffee or something casual. That always works for us. Right?”

✧✧

It finally works. You spend the afternoon with him watching a movie at the Electric (and he booked out the entire place) and when you both couldn’t stop fooling around in the theater anymore, you make a run for the car. 

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours. You wanted me in your bed.”

Javi wastes no time speeding to his house. It’s not a long drive, but Javi makes the most of it. He snakes his hand up your dress and rubs your inner thigh, making sure his knuckles brush along your clit while he’s at it. It drives you crazy, and by the time you arrive at his house, you’re already a panting mess. 

He leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom, and you realize you haven’t been in it before. It’s not much of a difference from the room you’ve slept in aesthetic-wise, but it’s much bigger. Easily twice the size, plus a balcony with a small garden and a door that you assume leads to the bathroom and you don’t care what else because his lips are on yours and his hands are all over you as he walks you to the bed, pinning you down on it. 

“I had better plans than this.” He croons into your ear and sucks a spot under the lobe.

You sigh into him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Javi kisses along your jaw and lightly nips your chin. You grasp his shirt in surprise and he presses you deeper into the bed, making you even closer to him. His weight almost suffocates you, in a good way.

“You look fuckable in this, but it has to go.” He hooks a thumb under the strap of your velvet slip dress, your jacket long forgotten in the car. You nod, giving him permission, and he slips it past your shoulder, then past your tits still covered in a lacy strapless bra, then finally past your hips while he kisses the trail of exposed skin along the way. Javi groans loudly when he’s eye level with your crotch and he sees that your matching panties are soaked and that it’s a fucking thong.

“You are so pretty.” Javi kisses your mound over the material and hooks the string of your barely-there thong between his fingers, as if he’s contemplating whether he should take it off or take you in it. He grabs your thigh and slightly angles you to the side, tracing slowly to the one string swallowed between your cheeks, and his hand lands on your ass with a smack.

“Ah!” You exclaim in surprise and Javi takes the string just to snap it back on you with another light smack. 

“Fucking pretty all over.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” You say breathily.

“I know, baby.” Javi murmurs in between mouthing and biting on your thigh and kneading your ass. You’re too busy sighing out your pleasure that you don’t see his other hand about to palm your mound under your panties until you feel it. Javi takes his mouth off of you and sits back on his knees to watch you squirm under his touch.

“Javi…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need you.”

“Hmm.” Javi continues grazing his fingers down to your lips, intentionally avoiding where you need him the most.

“Javi…” You fully lie on your back and spread your legs apart. “Take it off.”

Oh, how he’d love to. “I’m gonna take my time, honey.” Javi cups you over your panties and moves his palm up and down your pussy, spreading your wetness on yourself. “You made me wait. Now you wait.”

“Please, Javi. Touch me–”

“I am touching you.”

“I need you, please–”

“Love hearing you beg, baby.”

“Please please please–”

“Please what?”

You’re reduced to whimpering and you buck up your hips to meet his grounding palm. Your arousal is dripping even more now and it drives him crazy that you, the most beautiful woman that he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s wanted since that night in November, is on his bed. Begging for him.

Frustrated, you take the initiative to undo the front clasp of your bra. Javi stops his movements the moment he sees them and you swear his mouth drops open a little.

He’s had several ideas of what they would look like but his imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing. Yours are the perfect size for his hands and so soft under his touch. He runs his hand up between your cleavage before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You writhe under him, arching your back as he nibbles and laps on it and kneads the other one.

“More,” you groan.

“No,” he growls against your soft flesh.

“No?”

“Be patient.” You let out a cry when he bites your underboob. “These are so pretty, baby.”

You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair until he finally takes pity on you. He kisses the valley between your breasts before capturing your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Javi,” you whisper in between his hungry kisses. “I need t– I need to come.”

“Same here.”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

You guide his hand and let it rest between your legs, grinding onto his hand again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Just make me come, Javi. Do whatever you want with me.”

Desperation drips from your words and not only does it make him harder than before, it makes him smug too. He sits up on his knees, taking you in spread out on his bed with a hazy fucked out look on your face. And he technically hasn’t done anything yet. 

He undoes his cufflinks and pushes his sleeves up his veiny forearms. There’s something about the motion that makes him even sexier to you - and it makes you feel that way too. He pries open your thighs further and lowers his gaze down to your still covered pussy. You’ve dripped down onto his bed and he groans at the sight. He takes the strings between his fingers and slowly peels your thong off, much to your relief. He chucks it over his shoulder and drops onto his elbows. 

“You are the most fucking gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

You’re about to raise your head to see his face but before you manage to, you feel his tongue on your pussy.

“Oh, FUCK! Oh my god. Javi–” You grab a fistful of sheets under you as he slowly runs his tongue from your clit down to your entrance, and licks around your opening and tries to stick it into you. No one’s ever eaten you out like this before. It was usually one or two pathetic kitten licks before they get up and dangle their dicks in front of your face. No one is as thorough as Javi, who makes you feel his mouth and whiskers in spots of you that you didn’t know existed.

You don’t realize that you said it out loud until Javi suddenly stops and looks up at you with glistening lips… and mustache. You feel a fresh wave of wetness flooding at the sight. This is what you’ve been imagining every previous night before. 

“Seriously?”

You don’t know if he’s confused or upset by what you said. Either way, you need him to go back to what he was doing. “Yes, Javi, please don’t stop.”

“You’re telling me you don’t usually get eaten out?”

“No, uh, not like this. Never like–” Your own moans cut you off as he goes back to pleasuring you and you cry out when you feel his nose bumps your clit. You’re lost in this new feeling. It’s true. Never like this.

But with Javi? Javi is enjoying himself. He eats you out like he can’t get enough and he can’t get to all parts of you that he wants to taste. He’s slow enough for you to feel every movement his tongue is making, but he picks it up at the right pace when he feels that you need more. You feel his hand slowly squeezing your right boob, and then your eyes fly open when he suddenly puts a thick finger in you. You let out a high pitched moan and buck up to his lips.

“Fuck yeah. Be as loud as you want. You perfect little thing.” Javi shallowly thrusts it in and out of you. “Yours really didn’t fill you enough, huh?”

No. No, they didn’t. Javi’s one finger fills you so well you wonder how you’re gonna even be satisfied with yourself ever again after this. He hits the spots you never reached and makes you beg, and beg, and beg for more.

So he gives you more. He starts sucking your clit at the same time that he adds another finger into you. You don’t know what kind of noises you’re making anymore but it’s deprived enough that Javi groans into your pussy and the vibration and his hot breath make you keen even more. 

“Javi… faster, baby.”

“You’re not gonna come from my hand.” Javi says as he rolls your clit with his tongue. 

“But I’m close.” You whimper.

“I know. You’re so tight, fuck.” Javi raises his head to look at his fingers going in and out of you. They’re slick with your juices and he feels you pulsating around them whenever he drags them out, as if to keep him from not being inside you. “Think you can take my cock? Hmm?”

You gasp out a moan and he retracts his fingers completely. You’re getting too close to the edge and he doesn’t want you to come like this, no. Not by fingers or his mouth. He wants to feel you around him when you do. But that doesn’t stop him from tonguing you again and massaging your clit with his thumb until you’re panting and tugging hard on his hair that it hurts. Before you could go over the edge, he climbs over you and cages you in his arms, his mouth once again on your tits and smearing them with your wetness from his lips.

“Javi,” you grab his face in your hands and stroke his patchy, graying beard. “Please.”

You claw at his shirt, trying to open his buttons with trembling hands. He’s still fully clothed and it’s not fair. You manage to get the top two but then he untangles himself from you to stand at the foot of the bed… to rummage through his drawers.

“Fuck, uh… um… fuck.” Javi reaches into another one, turning it inside out, and starts rifling through a spare wallet he finds inside. “I don’t have condoms. Wait here. I might have some downstairs.”

You crawl over to him and stand on your knees, continuing to open his buttons. “I’m on birth control, Javi. And I haven’t been with anyone, so…”

Javi looks at you with his doe eyes, filled with lust, while you shrug his shirt off him. Are you saying…?

“I want you bare.”

Well, fuck me. If Javi weren’t already hard as rock before, then he doesn’t know what this is now. He’s never been bare with anyone since… who cares. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters except you asking him to fuck you raw and now you’re palming him over his pants and literally, the world could be burning at this moment and Javi wouldn’t give a shit about it. 

“Want you in my mouth, daddy.”

“No,” Javi groans painfully. There is no way he’s surviving tonight. “I’ll come on your face if you do that now.”

“Want that too.” You pepper him with kisses across his chest while you undo his belt and unzip his trousers. When you finally lower his pants along with his boxer briefs, your mouth waters. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be when you grabbed him in his car last week. You need him in you, right fucking now.

But first thing first… he’s gonna pay for not making you come. You’ve been so desperate since the theater and by the looks of it, he’s no different. The head of his cock is an angry red and leaking with precum. You swipe it clean with your tongue and Javi’s hand immediately finds the back of your neck. You take his hard erection in your hand and start to jerk him off slowly, building a pace that you know will drive him mad. Javi has his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed deep, holding back from thrusting into your hand. 

You lick a long stripe from his balls to his tip and elicit a low moan from him. It’s addicting, listening to him. You do it a few more times until you feel his fingers curling on you. 

“Javi…” You let go of him and kiss your way up his stomach instead. He involuntarily sucks in and opens his eyes to you slipping his cock past your lips. He doesn’t stop you. The groan that comes out of him is so sinful it’s going to be permanently etched in your brain. His hand on your neck finds your ass and kneads it when you start working him slowly with your mouth. You gag a little when he hits the back of your throat. He’s a lot to take in; you don’t even get to the hilt, and you count your blessings for that.

You’re suddenly pulled away with a pop. He’s throbbing and from his breathing, he doesn’t look like he’s going to last long.

“You’re so big, Javi. Does it feel as good as it tastes?”

You start to take him into your mouth again but he grabs your arm to haul you to the center of the bed. He settles himself on you, rubbing up and down your opening with his cock. You start to meet his movement but he pins your hips down, restricting you.

“Come on, we’ve waited long enough,” you whine.

He lets his weight fall on you completely and hums his answer with his face pressed against the crook of your neck. He keeps thrusting on your pussy and you’re so, so, so close to sobbing from need.

“Javi,” you whine again into his ear, arms clinging to his broad form.

Javi sits on his knees, watching you writhe underneath him. If he doesn’t come within one minute of being inside you, he’ll consider it a miracle. It’s his own fault for dragging it out this long and now he’s the one moments away from exploding. It’s worth it because you’re so fucking beautiful being all needy for him. 

He grabs you closer by your calves and wraps your legs around his waist, cock notched right at your entrance. Javi pushes forward and the sound he makes when he enters you is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. He works his way in slowly, letting you accommodate his girth. It’s a painful yet exquisite stretch.

You’ve never felt this full in your life. You’re not without experience, but the way Javi is filling you is something else. It’s not just his size, although that is a big part of it. It’s the way he’s gazing at you with so much tenderness. The way he’s moving as if he’s worshiping you with every stroke. The way he’s savoring this moment that you two have been waiting a ridiculously long time for. Your heart is full of–

“Baby. I don’t think I’ll last long.” Javi says with a strain in his voice. He’s holding back, with this languid (honestly, lazy) pace and he’s clenching his hands so hard you can see the veins in his forearms protruding. 

“I don’t care, Javi, just fuck me.”

He groans and starts to build a pace, gripping your thighs open. You throw your head back and hold on to the pillow closest to you. Javi’s eyes are glued to your tits bouncing by the impact of his thrusts and he tries to think of something, anything, except for the way your perfect body is responding to him right now. 

He remembers what you said about being essentially celibate since your last relationship and he doesn’t fight his curiosity. There’s a primal side of him that needs to know and the thought of your pathetic past conquests should buy him a couple more minutes, right?

“How long has it been for you, honey?”

“Mmmmm…” You roll your head back in pleasure, seemingly not hearing his question.

”When I ask something, I want an answer, sweetheart.”

“Two years? Mor–”

“Fucking unbelievable. This pussy should be fucked everyday, fuck.”

He curses between hard thrusts. Your mouth drops at his dirty talk and his pace increases to full on pounding. It doesn’t work. The thought of nothing having been inside you except for your own fingers and now him for that long is awakening something feral in him. 

You yelp. “Oh fuck yes, Javi…”

“Yeah? You’re gonna let me fuck this everyday?”

“Whenever you want. Please.”

“You’re so needy.” He looks down to where you’re joined before grabbing your ass and driving into you even harder. “So needy and sloppy and so. fucking. tight.”

The moan you let out is downright the filthiest thing he’s ever heard. And you? You barely hear his deep, delicious voice over your own moans and the sounds your bodies make. You can’t do anything but take, take, and take. You wish you could reciprocate but what leaves your mouth is only a blabber of cries and whines.

“You want to come?” Javi’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Please, baby.”

“Then touch yourself and come.”

Javi pulls out of you and you gasp from the sudden emptiness. You sit up to reach for him but he moves further to the edge of the bed, his hand fisting his cock and pinching the end slowly, trying not to lose it.

“Javi, what the fuck?” You exclaim in despair.

“Let me see you touch yourself, babe. Come like that or not at all.”

“Oh my God, Javi.” You fall back on the bed in frustration. There is no way this is happening. “No…”

“Come, and I’ll fuck you again.”

You start reluctantly touching yourself slowly, hoping he’ll take pity on you and take over again. But he stays where he is, looking at your face, not even your body.

“If that’s how you touch yourself, no wonder you’re unsatisfied. Come on, make yourself feel good.”

You groan in defeat and he chuckles at you amusingly. Fine. You dip two fingers into your pussy and start moving them the way you usually do, and your other hand drops to your clit to rub it with your index finger. Your peak is approaching in no time, between your own familiar movements and watching Javi watching you. You start to arch off the bed when you’re close and suddenly your hands are taken off you and you’re flipped onto your hands and knees. 

Javi thrusts back inside you from behind without warning and resumes pounding you in earnest. “That’s right baby, take it… like you wanted… so fucking good for me…”

You come with a silent scream and Javi lets out a pained moan from you fluttering and spasming around his cock. His hands grip your waist to the point of almost hurting and he keeps steadily thrusting into you to seek his own release while you ride yours out.

He pulls you up against his chest by wrapping his arm around your tits and keeps hitting that devastatingly delicious spot inside you. With a few thrusts it starts you up again and you grind back on him, feeling the bump of his stomach on the small of your back with each contact. You look over your shoulder at his face and see that he’s in absolute bliss, but there’s something else there that’s a little bit… off. You don’t get to think too much about it once his fingers reach down to your clit and you start to tighten around his cock again, your hand reaching back to grab at his curls. 

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Fuck. Come with me. Come with me, honey.” Javi’s pace grows desperate and he’s so deep, so right inside you that you beat him to it. You shudder in his arms, going limp, but he doesn’t let up. “Tell me where.”

You sigh dreamily while you catch your breath. “Anywhere you want, daddy.” 

He pulls out and pushes you lightly to get back on your hands and knees and spills himself on the small of your back and between your cheeks. You lay down flat on your stomach, evening out your breaths, inhaling in the mixed scent of the two of you. 

It takes Javi a couple of minutes to collect himself before he kisses along your shoulder, up to your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips.

“You’re so fucking good, babe. Tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You giggle tiredly and lean onto him, welcoming his kisses while he cleans you up with his discarded shirt. “I need a drink. Then I want to ride you.”

✧

For the next four days, you barely leave the bed except to eat or use the bathroom. Just like Javi had promised. He didn’t get to cook dinner for you yet, because it’ll take too much time away from being inside of you. Everyday it’s like clockwork: one of you wakes the other up with your mouth, followed by breakfast in bed, or vice versa. Then shower, where he eats you out - he insists that he’s making up for your lost time. In the afternoons, Javi does some work while you read scripts or his books or nap. Then dinner, followed by fucking each other to sleep. Sometimes you interrupt him mid-task or wake him up in the middle of the night just because. And repeat.

It’s pure fucking bliss.

✧✧

“Javi. Fuck.”

“What’s up?”

“Everything is shutting down. Everything. Where the fuck are you?” Óscar’s voice sounds panicked through the phone. 

“I’m on leave, remember? What do you mean?”

“Strike, Javi. It’s all over the news. We gotta reschedule everything. We’re not even allowed to do anything.”

Javi swiftly opens his news app and sure enough, Óscar’s right. How did he miss this? Oh, right.

“Javi!!!”

“I’m here.”

“What do we do?”

Javi thinks for a moment but absolutely nothing comes to mind. This is completely novel for him. “We’ll figure it out. How long is this supposed to go on?”

“Two weeks. A month tops.”

“So there’s nothing to do. Keep everyone around, keep everyone updated, the usual.”

“We can’t, Javi. We’re not allowed to. We should just let them go for now, go see their families. They can’t be employed right now, same for us, by the way.”

“Dammit,” Javi runs a hand over his face. He’s only ever shut down production once, during The Last Sicario, when a rival family member felt misrepresented by his depiction of them and sent death threats to him and the crew. “Call it. Keep me posted.”

“Sure. One more thing, have you heard from our little starlet? I tried calling her all day, and her PA couldn’t reach her either. Her hotel said she’s not there.”

“Staying with a friend, maybe?” Javi feigns cluelessness.

“Can you try her? Let her know we’ll help her figure it out while this is going on.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks, hermano.”

Guilt overcomes him once he hangs up and looks at you sleeping soundly, and naked, next to him. He’s betraying the closest friend he ever had and there would be no coming back from this if he found out. 

✧✧✧

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[writing0305]

Prompts.

Fluff.

“If you tell me what happened I can fix it. Whatever it is.”

2. "This cake reeks of resentment and bitterness." - "When we get to the party I'm going to need you to stop talking like that."

3. "Nothing could ever change how I feel for you."

4."I think I might love you."

5. "I can hear your heart beating, relax."

6. “Can… can I have a hug? Please?”

7. “Your mouth says you don’t like me but the way you stare at me tells me everything I need to know.” 

8. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me"

9. "You know, ever since I saw you that day, I haven't stop thinking about you."

10. "Everything would be a lot easier if you fucking sat still."

11. "Glad to see that you decided to show up." - "I knew you'd be bored without me here."

12. "This may not mean much to you, but I have your back."

13. "There isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you."

14. "You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply."

15. "Your jacket smells like you." - "Is that a good thing?" - "It’s… It’s comforting."

16. "I trust you. More than anyone else."

17. "I would do anything to keep her safe."

18. "You put a blanket over me when I was sleeping? What are we, an old married couple?"

Angst.

"The only thing about you that never disappoints, is your ability to disappoint."

2. "You couldn't live with your own failure, and where did that bring you? Yeah, right back to me."

3. “Holy shit… that’s a lot of blood...”

4. “Are you okay? does anything hurt? who did this to you?!”

5. "I don't want to see you!" "You can't be serious."

6. "You don't answer my texts or calls, how could I not be suspicious?" "No, you just don't trust me enough!"

7. “Who was that?”

8. “Just a friend, huh?”

9. “You two are so close, it’s adorable.”

10. "You are a brick tied to me that's dragging me down"

11. “Please, tell me this isn't your blood.”

12. “You were never going to tell me, were you?”

13. "I get everything I want"

14. "Get the fuck away from me."

15. "I don't know why I am upset about this so much. I never even liked him!"

16. "You know what's the saddest part? There was a time that I would've forgiven you if you just showed a little remorse. No more, though. I'm no longer a fool."

17. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

18. "... who did this to you?"

19. "...who's this?"

20. "What. the. fuck. is going on in here?"

21. "I need answers and I need them now."

22. "So, what's going on between you and [name] recently? You guys seem to have gotten close all of a sudden."

23. "Why are you so worked up?" "Because they wouldn't stop fucking staring at you like they wanted to eat you."

24. “I can’t leave you alone for one second without you hurting yourself, can I?” - “I mean, I’m fine so it’s okay—” - “No, it’s not okay. Not when I feel like I’m going to go batshit fucking crazy, thinking you’ve hurt yourself.“

25. "You lied to me. was i just a pawn in your game? the easiest one you can sacrifice ?"

26. “Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” 

27. “You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”

28. “I’m not even gonna lie, I’m just so fucking obsessed with you.” 

29. "You have no idea what I'm capable of. "

30. "I wouldn't do that if i were you. "

31. “They would be so mad if they found out.” “fuck ‘em”

32. "You have no morals, you know that?" - "Morals will get you killed someday, dear.”

33. “Have you ever cared about anyone other than yourself?”

34. “How did you do that?”

35. ”Where were you last night?”

36. “He deserves to die after what he did to you. And I’ll bring it to him.”

37. “She's my date. Fuck off.”

38. “Why was he talking to you?”

39. “You won't go anywhere with him.”

40. “He touches you again and I won't guarantee you I won't kill him immediately.”

41. “You go near him ever again and I'll kill him.”

42. “Whether you like it or not, you're safest with me.”

43. “Yeah, I killed him! He used to hit you! What did you expect me to do?! Leave him alone?”

44. "I didn’t know where else to go. "

45. "Clean yourself up. You're getting blood all over the place."

46. "Why are you avoiding me?"

Pregnancy/Children.

“Our babies would be so cute.” - “Oh, yeah?”

2. “Wait- we’re having a baby?”

3. “Heartbeats? Plural? There’s more than one?!”

4. “That baby is lucky to have you as a mother.”

5. “Your child has been kicking me all day.”

6. “You’re doing so well sweetheart. Just a few more weeks. My superwoman.”

7. “Go easy. You are carrying my child.”

8. "Of course I'm pregnant! Can't you see that?" - "Well, I didn't want to assume and be rude."

9. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

10. "Well, we both made that baby." - "Don't remind me."

11. “I have a kid?”

12. “He/she’s mine too.”

13. “Anyone fucking hurts my kid again, I’ll kill them.”

14. “I have a right to be in my kids life.”

15. “How could you hide this from me?”

[runninguplenorahills]

The roller skate size theory doesn’t make sense!

Sorry guys but this has been bothering me forever and I finally just had to say it.

In the Hellfire game in s4,ep1 Dustin rolls an 11 which isn’t enough to defeat Vecna which is very obvious foreshadowing that El (Eleven) loses the battle against Vecna at the end of the season. Now, the roll that does defeat Vecna is the 20 and people have come up with the theory that Will’s and Mike’s roller skate sizes (both 10) foreshadow that, *tries to read scribbles on hand*, gay love will defeat Vecna… right.

Love of course plays a huge role in this show and yes s5 is Will centric, yes Will has powers, yes he’s the cure, yes he’ll get the boy, yes him and Mike will be a team next season, yes they’ll have their happy ending, and so on. But there’s actual much better foreshadowing for this than those gymnastics of a theory.

I mean, look at this:

I do agree that the numbers are of importance! They simply wouldn’t have made them carry the skates with the sizes facing towards the camera like this if those numbers didn’t mean anything because the shoe sizes on their own are obviously very irrelevant. But I do not believe that these numbers are supposed to correlate in any way with the Hellfire game/foreshadow Will defeating Vecna. Simply because…

…all three of them are carrying their skates with the size facing towards the audience. If they actually intended to draw a connection to that victory roll in the Hellfire game they probably would’ve been more direct and have them all carry their skates differently so that only Will’s skates are turned with the size facing towards us, displaying the double 10 aka 20.

…Mike and Will have the same shoe size. And thus this scene actually doesn’t give us a 20 at all, but a 40. Which makes absolutely no sense if this was supposed to be connected to the 20 from the Hellfire game. If they wanted to make that connection it would’ve been so easy to just give Mike a different shoe size so that there’s actually only one double 10 aka only one 20 in this scene to foreshadow Will being the one to defeat Vecna.

…20 is the maximum. You cannot roll a higher number than that, plus if you roll one 20 you do not need another, so if this was supposed to foreshadow the defeat of Vecna Mike and Will would have a 20 each which would actually prohibit them to work as a team and therefore contradict with the actual direct and undeniable foreshadowing that Mike and Will will be a team next season.

You could of course argue that the actual shoe size is a size 10, meaning that Mike and Will have a size 10 each so together they add up to 20 but this is visual story telling and visually, that’s a 40. And that really can’t be ignored. You can’t just bend canon to fit your own theories about what will happen in canon! The roller skate size theory would be very weird and just bad foreshadowing for just Will defeating Vecna, and also for Mike and Will defeating Vecna together which simply leads me to believe that those two things aren’t connected at all.

Instead, I personally think this shot of them carrying the skates is supposed to show that Mike and Will are in the same shoes which is an expression referring to being in the same bad/difficult situation as another person (mostly used like “I wouldn’t want to be in xyz’s shoes right now”). And well, if they both need size 10 roller skates that means their regular shoes are a size 10 as well which just underlines that not only does this apply to just rink-o-mania with Mike and Will both pushing each other away though still paying the most attention to each other, but also their struggles with sexuality.

“In the closet (at rink-o-mania)”? Make way for “In the same shoes (at rink-o-mania)”!

And let’s also not forget that Mike has another shoe-twin this season:

Yes, none other than Robin “gay gay homosexual gay” Buckley. Whose shoes in s3 actually foreshadowed that she’s gay gay homosexual gay:

So…. gayshoegate? Anyone?