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novaursa · 2 months ago

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Where Dragons Dare (1/3)

- Summary: After you are left greatly injured by a dragon riding accident, the small council puts pressure on your father, King Viserys I, to have another male heir.

- Paring: (male!targ) reader/Alicent Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin brother of Rhaenyra and is bonded with a dragon. For more of my works visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+ (rating will go all the way up for the last two parts)

- Word count: 9 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @literaturedog

- A/N: This was requested by @witch-of-letters. ❤️ I hope you enjoy the first part. I've tried to fit into this one most of the information you've given me. The rest will be in the next two parts.

- Next part: 2

The council chamber buzzes with tension, thick as smoke, as the lords gathered around the long table cast uneasy glances at King Viserys. The king, grey hairs creeping into his Targaryen silver, wears the weight of the realm across his brow. His gaze is distant, fixed on the empty chair at the end of the table where you, his only son, should be sitting, were it not for the incident that left you bed-ridden, your ribs shattered and your leg mangled. The air is tight, a storm brewing beneath the grand stone arches and tapestries that adorn the walls.

Viserys lets out a weary sigh as Grand Maester Mellos, hunched and robed in the dull grays of his order, speaks. “Your Grace, the Prince’s injuries are… severe. His recovery remains uncertain, particularly with the damage sustained to his leg. There is concern that even if he does survive this ordeal, he may never ride Dallax again.” Mellos’ tone is cautious, as if picking each word with tweezers.

At that, Otto Hightower, ever poised and calculated, leans forward with his usual practiced air of concern. “It is regrettable, Your Grace, but these events could have been avoided had the young prince exercised more restraint. Dragonriding is no sport to be taken lightly, yet Prince Y/N chose to put himself and others at risk with those… dangerous maneuvers during Maiden’s Day celebrations.”

The jab is subtle, but the intent is sharp. Otto’s words are always carefully weighted, his voice smooth as oil yet edged like a blade. There’s a flicker of something behind Viserys’ eyes at the mention of your name, but it’s Corlys Velaryon who rises to your defense before your father can respond.

“Dangerous, you say, Lord Hightower? A dragonrider’s bond with his mount is not something to be dictated by the whims of others,” Corlys counters, his voice deep and resonant. “The Prince, young as he is, shares a bond with Dallax that most dragonriders would envy. To stifle that connection for fear of injury would be to deny what it means to be Targaryen.”

Tyland Lannister, ever opportunistic and sharp-eyed, cuts in with a smooth smile, “While that may be true, Lord Corlys, we cannot ignore the situation at hand. The heir is gravely injured, and we do not yet know the extent of his recovery. The Crown’s stability must be maintained, especially with Queen Aemma carrying another child. We all pray for a healthy son this time, as it would ensure—”

Viserys’ eyes narrow, cutting off Tyland mid-sentence. “You would dare place my son’s potential death before the birth of another heir?” There’s a warning in the king’s tone, though it lacks the sharpness it might have once had. He looks tired, older somehow, as if the weight of his crown presses down harder with each passing year. “Y/N will recover. He is strong, like his mother.”

Otto’s voice slices through the tension again, softer but no less cutting. “No one doubts the Prince’s strength, Your Grace. However, we must be practical. The realm must always have a clear line of succession. Given the uncertainty surrounding Prince Y/N’s condition, ensuring that the Crown is secure with another male heir is not an option to be taken lightly.”

Corlys shoots Otto a disdainful glance, his irritation evident. “It seems some here are quick to forget that Prince Y/N is still very much alive. Would you so easily cast him aside, Hightower?”

Otto doesn’t flinch. “I speak only of the reality we must face. The Prince’s injuries are a reminder of the dangers inherent to our lineage. Daemon Targaryen was much the same in his youth, reckless and bold. Look where that has led him. The realm cannot afford another… unsteady Targaryen to destabilize it.”

Viserys’ face hardens at the mention of Daemon, but there’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. It’s no secret that Otto sees you as another Daemon-in-the-making—bold, fiery, and likely to cause as much chaos as your uncle once did. But Corlys, undeterred, presses forward.

“The Prince is no Daemon, and it is folly to compare the two. Y/N is his father’s son, and he carries his mother’s heart in him as well. You speak of him as though he were already lost, yet he fights even now to return to us.”

Mellos interjects, his voice soft yet firm. “We must consider all possibilities. Should the worst happen, the realm would be thrown into disarray if another male heir is not secured. Queen Aemma’s pregnancy provides an opportunity to ensure stability. No one wishes harm upon Prince Y/N, but the Crown must prepare for all outcomes.”

The chamber falls silent as Viserys leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. His eyes flicker from one lord to the next, the weight of their words heavy upon him. It is clear that this is not just about your health, but about the fear that haunts every Targaryen king—the fragility of power, and the burden of legacy.

At last, Viserys speaks, his voice measured but lined with steel. “Y/N is my son, my heir. He will recover. We will not speak of replacing him while he yet breathes and fights. The Queen’s child—should it be a boy—will not supplant my son’s birthright.”

The lords exchange uneasy glances, but none dare press the matter further. Otto’s lips press into a thin line, his eyes calculating, already plotting his next move. Corlys gives a satisfied nod, as if some silent victory has been won in this battle of words.

“Let us end this meeting,” Viserys declares, standing abruptly. “My son needs me at his side, not in this chamber, bickering over shadows.” With that, the King strides from the room, leaving the lords in tense silence.

The echoes of that discussion linger, the council divided, the seeds of doubt planted. But in the end, it is your fate, your strength, that will determine the realm’s future. Whether you rise again or fall will shape the course of House Targaryen’s history, and those who doubt you now will soon see just how much fire runs in your veins.

Alicent Hightower’s fingers work restlessly, picking at the skin around her nails until they redden, a nervous habit she can never seem to fully break. Her eyes, tinged with worry, flicker toward Rhaenyra, who paces before the hearth, her face a storm of emotions. The princess is rarely still, her movements a reflection of her restless energy. But today, there’s an undercurrent of unease in her steps.

Rhaenyra finally pauses, catching Alicent’s gaze, her expression softening just slightly. “You’re worried about him too, aren’t you?” Rhaenyra’s voice carries a note of exasperation, though it’s more for her brother than for Alicent. “Everyone is,” she adds, her tone a mix of annoyance and affection.

Alicent nods, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress as she carefully forms her next words. “I heard the fall was… grave. My brother, Gwayne, he’s been beside himself with worry. He asked after Prince Y/N’s condition, but I haven’t had the heart to tell him much, as I didn’t know the truth of it myself.” Her eyes search Rhaenyra’s for any sign of reassurance.

Rhaenyra gives a small, mirthless laugh, though there’s fondness in her voice. “It was a bad fall, yes. Several broken ribs, a twisted leg… it was awful to see him like that, especially with all the blood. But you know my brother—his head’s still intact, and that’s all he seems to care about. He was already jesting the moment I rushed in to see him after it happened. Can you imagine?” She shakes her head, lips curving slightly. “The first thing he told me was that the dragon landing was all Dallax’s fault, as if the creature hadn’t been trying to save him mid-air.”

Alicent lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The tension in her shoulders eases just a fraction, and despite herself, a soft smile graces her lips at Rhaenyra’s words. “That does sound like him,” she says quietly, her voice warm with a touch of relief. “He’s always been kind to me, even when others were not. I thought I might visit him, to see how he fares. But I didn’t want to intrude… especially with everything happening.”

Rhaenyra’s sharp eyes catch the shift in Alicent’s tone, the nervous edge behind her request. Her smirk returns, a knowing look that dances in her violet eyes. “Is that all, Alicent? You simply wish to return a kindness?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice, but it isn’t cruel—rather, it’s affectionate, as one might tease a younger sister.

Alicent’s cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink, and her fingers return to picking at the skin of her thumb. “I only thought it would be polite…” she trails off, clearly flustered under Rhaenyra’s knowing gaze.

“Polite,” Rhaenyra repeats, almost to herself, savoring the word like it’s some private joke. Then, with a mischievous glint, she steps closer and leans in as if sharing a secret. “Why don’t we visit him now, then?” she suggests, her voice both challenging and inviting. “I was planning to see him anyway, and I imagine he’s bored out of his mind. You’d be doing him a favor by distracting him from all the fussing Grand Maester Mellos has been doing.”

Alicent blinks, caught off guard by the sudden suggestion. “Now?” she echoes, her heart skipping a beat. She had been expecting to arrange a visit discreetly, perhaps later in the day, but to go now, with no time to compose herself or prepare… She hesitates, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly. But then, she straightens her spine, smoothing out the folds of her dress. “Yes,” she replies with quiet resolve, the flush still faint on her cheeks. “Let’s go now.”

Rhaenyra’s smirk softens into a genuine smile. “Good. He’ll be glad to see you, I’m sure of it.” She turns and leads the way, her stride confident and purposeful, and for a moment, Alicent is struck by how effortlessly her friend carries herself, a blend of grace and fire that draws everyone’s eyes.

Alicent hurries to match Rhaenyra’s pace, her thoughts racing as they walk down the long corridors of the Red Keep. She’s already imagining what she’ll say when she sees you, how she’ll carefully choose her words to avoid showing too much concern, or worse, revealing the affection she’s kept hidden for so long. It’s no secret that she and you share a certain awkwardness in each other’s presence, a tension that dances between propriety and something unspoken. But perhaps this visit will be different, she tells herself. Perhaps today she’ll find the courage to speak more freely, to let you see the care that lingers behind her usually composed exterior.

The clang of armor and the soft murmurs of passing courtiers fade into the background as the two young women make their way toward your chambers. The air seems heavier the closer they get, anticipation thickening with each step. Rhaenyra glances at Alicent from the corner of her eye, noting the way her friend’s hands twist together nervously. “You know,” Rhaenyra says casually, breaking the silence, “he’s probably expecting me to bring news of the council meeting. But I think he’ll be more interested in who I’ve brought along.”

Alicent’s breath hitches, but she quickly composes herself, offering a light, practiced smile. “I only hope I don’t disturb him.”

Rhaenyra chuckles softly. “Disturb him? You’re more likely to brighten his day, Alicent. He’s been locked away in that chamber long enough. I’d say he could use the company of someone with a gentle touch.”

As they near your chamber doors, the conversation fades, leaving only the echo of their footsteps in the dimly lit hallway. Alicent’s heart pounds in her chest, nerves battling with the quiet thrill of finally seeing you after days of anxious waiting. She takes a deep breath, her hand resting briefly over her stomach as if to steady herself, before glancing at Rhaenyra, who gives her an encouraging nod.

The heavy oak door creaks open, and the first thing Rhaenyra and Alicent see is Queen Aemma, heavily pregnant, perched on the edge of your bed, fussing over you with the care only a mother can give. Her hand smooths the unruly strands of silver hair from your forehead, her gaze filled with a mixture of sternness and deep worry.

“You should be resting more,” Aemma chides softly, adjusting the pillows behind you for the third time. “It’s a miracle you survived that fall. You push yourself too hard, my sweet boy.”

You chuckle, though the sound is edged with the discomfort you try to hide. “Mother, I’m hardly on death’s door,” you say, your voice light despite the tightness in your chest from the bruised ribs. “You’re embarrassing me, fussing like this in front of my guests. I’ve survived worse—remember the time Dallax nearly knocked me off during that storm over Dragonstone?”

Aemma gives you a look of mock disapproval, though her eyes glisten with affection. “That’s no reason for you to go risking your life every time you’re in the saddle. But I suppose I’ll leave you to your visitors. If you need anything, send for me at once.” She leans in, ignoring your protest, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Behave yourself, and don’t be too stubborn,” she adds with a small smile, before gracefully rising from the bed.

As she turns, Aemma’s gaze softens when she sees Rhaenyra and Alicent by the door. “He’s in good hands now,” she says warmly, giving Rhaenyra a brief but knowing smile, before excusing herself from the room.

Once Aemma is gone, Rhaenyra moves closer, her usual air of confidence returning as she grins down at you. “So, how is my brave brother faring today? Still planning to be back in the saddle by week’s end, or has the council convinced you to take up a life of courtly entertainment with Mushroom?”

You chuckle again, though it comes out more like a wince. “Well, if I can’t fly, I suppose I can stand in the throne room and juggle while Mushroom tells his bawdy tales. It might be just what the court needs to liven things up.” Your eyes gleam with amusement, though there’s a hint of frustration beneath your humor, the kind only Rhaenyra would notice. You’ve never been one to take well to being bedridden.

Rhaenyra snorts in amusement, shaking her head. “I’d pay good coin to see that. Though I doubt our dear father would find it as amusing as the rest of us.”

Your gaze drifts then, catching sight of Alicent standing just a little behind Rhaenyra, her hands clasped together nervously. She gives you a small, polite curtsy, her cheeks tinged with a soft flush. “Prince Y/N,” she greets, her voice gentle, almost tentative. “I heard about your fall, and… I was worried. I hope I’m not intruding by coming here. I—”

“Alicent,” you interrupt, your tone softening as your expression shifts into one of genuine warmth. The playful banter fades, replaced by something quieter, more sincere. “You could never be a bother. I’m glad you’re here, truly.” Your words seem to ease some of the tension from her shoulders, and the corner of your mouth lifts into a reassuring smile.

Rhaenyra looks between the two of you, her smirk deepening, though she wisely stays silent for the moment, letting the exchange unfold.

Alicent takes a hesitant step closer, her eyes briefly meeting yours before she looks down at her hands. “I… I wanted to bring you something,” she says, her voice nearly a whisper as she reaches into the pocket of her gown and retrieves a small, delicately woven ribbon in shades of deep crimson and gold. “It’s just a token, to wish you a swift recovery. I know it’s nothing much, but I thought…” She trails off, the blush deepening on her cheeks as she holds it out to you.

You reach out to take it, your fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment—a touch so light it’s almost imperceptible, yet it sends a ripple of warmth through you. The contact lingers in both of your thoughts longer than it physically lasts, and you catch the way her breath hitches slightly, the same way yours does. “Thank you, Alicent,” you say, your voice softer than before. “It means more than you know. I’ll keep it close—perhaps it’ll speed along this recovery of mine.” Your thumb brushes against the fabric of the ribbon, savoring the thoughtfulness behind the gift.

Alicent’s lips curl into a shy smile, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and something else—something tender that neither of you have the words for yet. “I’m glad… if it helps even a little,” she murmurs.

Rhaenyra, ever perceptive, clears her throat pointedly, though there’s a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Well, now that you have such a fine token to aid in your recovery, brother, you’ll be back on your feet in no time. And if you do decide to take up juggling, I’ll make sure it’s the talk of the court.”

You roll your eyes at Rhaenyra’s teasing, but there’s warmth in your gaze as you turn back to Alicent. “Next time, maybe you could bring Gwayne along. I’m sure he’s been worrying just as much as you have.”

Alicent nods, still holding that shy smile. “I’ll see if he can visit soon. He’s always asking after you.”

Rhaenyra steps back, giving Alicent a pointed look before quirking an eyebrow at you. “So, shall we sit and keep you company, or do you have other princely duties to attend to from your bed?”

You can’t help but laugh at that, wincing slightly as your ribs protest. “I think I’m due for a bit of entertainment. It’s been dreadfully dull in here with nothing but Mellos’ remedies and reports from the small council. Stay—both of you.”

With that invitation, Rhaenyra finally settles into a chair near your bed, while Alicent quietly takes the seat on your other side. For a moment, a comfortable silence settles in, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the quiet sounds of the Red Keep outside your window.

But beneath that surface calm, there’s a new feeling—not unpleasant, but charged with possibilities unspoken. You and Alicent exchange brief, sidelong glances, your minds both swirling with thoughts you’re not yet ready to give voice to. And though Rhaenyra pretends to be absorbed in adjusting her skirts, you know your twin far too well to miss the satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

The morning sun filters through the stone arches of the courtyard, casting crooked shadows as you make your way through the Red Keep. The steady thunk of your cane against the cobblestones marks each step, your gait still uneven from the injury. Though you’re no longer bedridden, the limp remains, a constant reminder of the fall that nearly cost you everything. Despite this, there’s a quiet determination in your stride—strength buried beneath the calm exterior. The deaths of your mother and brother cloak your soul and heart with grief, but you continue to go on as months drag on. Because your mother would wish for you to stay strong, you know this in your bones.

You’re just about to reach the library when you hear the low, familiar drawl of your uncle, Daemon Targaryen. “Another council meeting, and once again, your name was left unspoken,” he says, stepping out from the shadows of a nearby pillar. His silver hair gleams in the light, and there’s a sharp edge to his eyes that matches the curve of his smile—part amusement, part disdain.

You pause, turning to meet his gaze, though you remain composed, unbothered by the subtle provocation. “I’m used to it by now, uncle,” you reply, your voice even, almost indifferent. It’s not a complaint, merely a fact, a truth you’ve come to accept. The small council rarely considers your presence necessary these days, not when Otto Hightower holds sway over your father and lords like Tyland Lannister whisper about the need for more ‘stability’ in the line of succession.

Daemon’s expression darkens, his eyes narrowing. “Used to it?” he echoes, his voice dropping with barely contained irritation. “They push you aside as if you’re nothing more than an afterthought, a decoration. And you’ve grown comfortable with it?” He steps closer, the intensity in his gaze unmistakable. “You’re the king’s son, his heir, yet you let them treat you like some soft-spoken scribe, buried in books and songs while that leech Otto tightens his hold around your father’s neck.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the cane, though your expression remains calm. You meet his eyes steadily, unflinching in the face of his scorn. “I prefer to choose my battles, uncle,” you say quietly. “Like Dallax, I know when to show my teeth. There’s no sense in snapping them at shadows.”

Daemon scoffs, a mix of exasperation and grudging respect in his tone. “Spoken like a poet, not a dragon. You should be making them fear you, not waiting for the perfect moment that may never come. They should see fire in you, boy, not this... apathy.” His frustration is clear—he’s never had patience for subtleties or caution, preferring the boldness of action over waiting in the wings.

But you don’t flinch. You’ve long learned that the fire in your blood doesn’t need to be on display at every moment. “And where did being feared get you, uncle?” you ask with a hint of amusement in your voice. “You’ve been exiled twice, alienated half the court, and have more enemies than friends. If that’s the path you think I should follow, then perhaps I should throw more reckless tournaments and provoke the lords with tales of misrule.”

Daemon’s eyes flash, though there’s a hint of grudging admiration beneath the irritation. “Perhaps I’ve made mistakes, but at least I act. I don’t hide behind patience while others pull the strings. You speak of showing your teeth when the time is right, but when will that time come? When Otto’s scheming has woven its webs so thick that there’s no air left to breathe?”

You give a small, knowing smile. “You mistake stillness for inaction. Even a dragon rests before it strikes.” Then, with a touch of humor, you add, “And besides, Dallax may have thrown me, but I landed well enough.”

That draws a snort from Daemon. “Landed, yes. With a leg that’ll remind you of it every day.” Despite his harsh words, there’s a glimmer of reluctant approval in his eyes. “But you’ve got a point—Dallax hasn’t eaten you yet, so perhaps you’ve earned a measure of respect. Just don’t think that quiet strategy will protect you forever. Sooner or later, you’ll need to show them who you are, nephew. And when you do, make sure they remember it.”

You nod slightly, letting the words hang between you for a moment before you turn away, your pace deliberate as you resume your walk. “I’ll keep that in mind, uncle,” you call over your shoulder, a hint of dry humor lacing your tone. “Perhaps one day, we’ll both show them our teeth together—when it truly matters.”

Daemon watches you go, his eyes lingering on your form as you disappear into the corridors. Despite the tension, there’s an unspoken understanding between you. You both know that fire is not always meant to be unleashed at every provocation—it can burn hotter when contained, waiting for the moment to strike with devastating precision.

But for now, you choose patience, aware that when the time comes, it will be all the more powerful for having been held in check. As you leave your uncle behind, a small, satisfied smile touches your lips. You know your strength, and you’ll reveal it when it’s most needed—not before.

The fire crackles quietly in the small chamber as Alicent sits across from her father, Otto Hightower. The room is dimly lit by the glow of the hearth, and the air feels heavy with unspoken tension. Otto’s eyes are fixed on his daughter, sharp and calculating, as he recounts the events of the recent small council meeting.

“The council remains divided,” he begins, his tone measured. “The matter of succession is still a delicate topic, but it’s clear that the King will not remain unmarried for long. The realm demands stability, and he knows it.”

Alicent’s brow furrows, her head snapping up at the implication in her father’s words. “Father, you can’t possibly be suggesting—”

Otto’s gaze remains steady, unyielding. “I’m not suggesting, Alicent. I’m stating a reality. The King is vulnerable, grieving, and the pressure of the realm weighs heavily on him. It’s only a matter of time before he considers remarriage, and when he does, you must be ready.”

Alicent’s expression hardens, a rare defiance flickering in her eyes. “I won’t do it,” she says firmly, though there’s a tremor beneath her voice. “I won’t be used like this.”

Otto’s patience visibly thins, a tightness forming around his mouth. “Is this about the Prince?” he asks, his voice edged with irritation. “You’ve grown fond of him, haven’t you? You think that because he’s been kind to you, that he’s somehow different, somehow worthy of your loyalty?”

Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers twisting in her lap as she struggles to find the right words. “He is different,” she insists, though her voice is quieter now. “Y/N is the heir, Father. He’s kind, thoughtful, and gentle in ways that others aren’t. He doesn’t play these games like the rest of them do.”

Otto’s expression tightens, his frustration barely masked. “The boy is reckless,” he snaps, his tone cutting through her protest. “Too much like Daemon, whether you see it or not. He flies that dragon of his in dangerous stunts to impress the smallfolk, and he’s already alienated half the council with his indifference to their politics. You think kindness will make him a strong king? He’s more likely to lead the realm into chaos than rule it with a steady hand.”

Alicent’s chest tightens, anger flaring in her eyes. “He’s not Daemon!” she retorts, her voice stronger this time. “He’s nothing like him. Y/N has a heart that Daemon lacks, and he cares deeply for those close to him. You only see what you want to see because it fits your plans.”

Otto’s eyes narrow, his patience worn thin. “And you see him through the lens of a girl smitten by his gentle words and kind gestures. You think he’ll protect you from the harsh realities of court, but you’re wrong, Alicent. This isn’t about what you want—it’s about what the realm needs. The King’s decision must be guided carefully, and you will play your part.”

Alicent’s heart races, her throat tightening with a mixture of fear and resentment. She knows there’s little room for argument when her father takes this tone. “I won’t betray him,” she whispers, her resolve wavering under the weight of her father’s expectations.

Otto leans forward, his gaze intense. “You’re not betraying him, you’re securing your future—and the future of our house. You will do what’s necessary when the time comes. The King’s affections can be swayed, and when they are, you must be there. You’re a clever girl, Alicent. Don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. Remember, loyalty to your house comes first.”

She lowers her gaze, the firelight casting shadows across her face. The thought of maneuvering against someone she’s grown to care for—a young man who has only ever shown her kindness—makes her stomach twist with guilt. But Otto’s expectations press down like a vice, and she knows all too well the consequences of disobedience.

“Prepare yourself,” Otto says, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “When I give the word, you must be ready to act.”

Alicent swallows, her resolve crumbling beneath the weight of her father’s will. She nods, unable to muster more than that, her mind churning with conflicted thoughts as she tries to reconcile the path being laid out before her. Her heart aches with the burden of what she knows may come—sacrificing her desires for the sake of duty.

As the conversation falls into a tense silence, the crackling of the fire is the only sound that remains.

The Red Keep is quiet in the late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting shadows through the stone corridors. You walk with only a slight hitch in your step now, the limp almost entirely gone after months of healing. It’s a small victory, but one that fills you with a new sense of freedom, a reminder that you’ve come through the worst of it. Yet, as you round the corner into one of the smaller courtyards, the sight that meets you sends a jolt of concern straight through your chest.

Alicent is seated on a stone bench beneath a tall tree, her shoulders trembling with barely contained sobs. Her hands cover her face, and even from a distance, you can hear the quiet, heart-wrenching sounds of her crying. It’s a rare thing to see her like this; Alicent is usually so composed, so careful in maintaining the image of poise that’s expected of her. But here, alone—or so she thought—she’s unraveling.

Without a second thought, you approach her, the concern plain in your eyes. “Alicent,” you call softly, your voice gentle, almost hesitant as you close the distance between you. She startles slightly at the sound of your voice, quickly wiping at her tears in a futile attempt to regain her composure. But it’s clear that the floodgates have already opened, and there’s no hiding the raw emotion in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she manages, her voice catching as she forces a tremulous smile. “I didn’t think anyone would be here…”

You kneel down in front of her, ignoring the twinge of discomfort in your leg. “What’s happened?” you ask, your voice full of warmth and concern. “You’re crying, Alicent. Talk to me. What’s troubling you?”

For a moment, she can’t meet your eyes, her hands clenching in her lap as she struggles to hold back more tears. But when she finally looks at you, the anguish in her gaze cuts straight to your heart. “It’s my father,” she whispers, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession. “He’s… he’s been instructing me, pushing me to get close to the King. He… he wants me to…” Her words trail off as a fresh wave of tears spills down her cheeks. “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to be a pawn in his games.”

Your expression softens even further as you take in the depth of her distress. Without hesitation, you reach out and gently cup her cheek, wiping away her tears with the pad of your thumb. “You’re not a pawn,” you murmur, your voice low and steady, infused with a tenderness that you reserve only for her. “You’re Alicent—kind, thoughtful, more than any of these schemes or plots.”

She closes her eyes at your touch, leaning into the comfort you offer, as if drawing strength from your presence. “But what choice do I have?” she whispers, her voice cracking. “He’s my father. If I don’t do as he asks, I’ll be seen as disobedient… or worse. I feel trapped, Y/N, and I hate it. I hate how helpless I feel.”

The fierce protectiveness that surges through you is almost overwhelming. You lean in closer, your other hand finding hers and holding it firmly, grounding her. “You’re not helpless,” you say with quiet determination. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You have my word, Alicent. No matter what schemes your father or anyone else tries to weave, I’ll be there. You’re not alone in this.”

Her eyes snap open at your words, searching your face for any hint of doubt, but all she finds is unwavering sincerity. There’s a softness in your gaze that she’s come to rely on, a steadiness that offers her a sense of safety she’s found nowhere else. “But how can you protect me from all of this?” she asks, her voice laced with desperation. “You can’t control what the King decides, or what my father pushes me to do.”

You smile, a gentle curve of your lips that holds both reassurance and quiet confidence. “Perhaps I can’t change everything,” you admit, your thumb still brushing away her tears. “But I can stand by you. I can make sure you don’t have to face any of this alone. And if they try to force your hand, they’ll have to deal with me first.”

Her breath catches at the intensity of your words, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you, the weight of courtly duties and schemes fading into the background. She clings to your hand, drawing strength from the way your fingers entwine with hers. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “You don’t know how much it means to hear that.”

You squeeze her hand gently, offering a small but genuine smile. “You deserve to be happy, Alicent, not burdened with all these games. Whatever happens, you have a choice—and I’ll be here, no matter what.”

There’s a long pause as she looks at you, her heart in her eyes. It’s a look that speaks of more than just gratitude; it’s a mixture of emotions that neither of you can quite name yet, a deepening connection that lingers just beneath the surface. “I believe you,” she says softly, her voice steadying at last.

For a moment longer, you stay there, kneeling in front of her, your presence a quiet but steadfast comfort. The world outside the courtyard feels distant, irrelevant. Here, in this quiet corner of the Red Keep, the schemes and pressures of power seem to hold no sway.

As you help her rise to her feet, your hand still holding hers, you can see a spark of resolve returning to her eyes. “You are not alone,” you tell her, a promise wrapped in those simple words.

And for the first time in what feels like ages, Alicent allows herself to hope that she won’t be swallowed by the games of court—that, with you by her side, she might find a way to reclaim her own path amidst the chaos.

The council chamber is as it always is—filled with tension and the murmur of hushed conversations as lords and advisors deliberate the future of the realm. The lords gathered around the table speak in low voices, with Otto Hightower presiding over the meeting with his usual composed authority. Viserys, looking more weary than ever, listens half-heartedly as discussions about trade routes and tax levies dominate the conversation. Rhaenyra stands off to the side, holding the wine jug as she fulfills her role as cupbearer, her expression one of faint boredom—until the door suddenly creaks open.

All heads turn as you stride into the chamber, unannounced, your cane in hand though you walk with almost no noticeable limp. The lords freeze in surprise, the very air growing still as you make your way directly to your seat at the council table. Your presence is commanding, purposeful, as if you’ve planned this moment down to the finest detail. Rhaenyra’s eyes gleam with amusement as she watches from the sidelines, a smirk curling her lips—she’s the only one in the room not taken aback by your unexpected arrival.

The council members shift uncomfortably in their seats, unsure how to respond. Otto Hightower is the first to speak, his voice laced with thinly veiled irritation. “Your Grace, this is most inappropriate. You were not summoned—”

You cut him off sharply, your gaze piercing as it sweeps across the table. “And it is most inappropriate that I have not been summoned to these talks,” you say coolly, your tone brooking no argument. “I am the heir to the throne, yet it seems my presence is no longer deemed necessary while decisions are made that affect my future and that of this realm.”

Viserys opens his mouth to intercede, but you raise a hand, your eyes never leaving Otto’s. “Save your apologies, Father,” you continue, your voice growing firmer. “This is not a matter of oversight or courtesy. It’s a matter of respect—respect that has been slowly eroding while certain parties here conspire to keep me in the dark.”

Beesbury and Tyland exchange nervous glances, both lords visibly shifting in their seats. The weight of your accusation hangs in the air like a blade, unspoken but understood by all. Otto, however, remains collected, though there’s a glimmer of annoyance in his eyes. “No one seeks to replace you, Prince Y/N,” Viserys says, attempting to smooth over the tension. “You are my son, and my heir. There is no question about that.”

You scoff, your gaze now locked onto Otto with unyielding intensity. “Is that so?” you reply, your voice laced with challenge. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe when whispers circulate through the court, and when my own seat at this table has been deliberately left empty.” Your gaze flickers briefly to Beesbury and Tyland, who both quickly avert their eyes, before returning to Otto. “I know about the talks. I know about the concerns for the continuation of the Targaryen bloodline. If that is what worries this council so deeply, then perhaps it is time I address it myself.”

The room goes utterly silent, every lord and advisor hanging onto your next words. Viserys looks puzzled, while Rhaenyra’s smirk widens, her eyes alight with curiosity and pride. “What are you saying?” Viserys asks, trying to understand where this is leading.

You straighten in your chair, your voice clear and decisive as you deliver your next statement. “I have decided that I will marry.”

The words drop like a stone into a still pond, sending ripples of shock through the room. Viserys’s eyes widen in surprise, while several of the lords exchange stunned looks. Even Rhaenyra, though aware of your intentions, seems momentarily caught off guard by how bluntly you’ve declared it. But the greatest reaction comes from Otto Hightower, who immediately tenses, his carefully constructed mask of composure slipping just slightly.

“Marry?” Otto repeats, disbelief tinging his voice. “Your Grace, this is a most sudden decision—”

“Sudden, perhaps,” you say, cutting him off again, “but necessary. If the continuation of the Targaryen line is such a concern, then I will see to it myself. And I already know who I intend to wed.”

The room waits with bated breath, every eye fixed on you as you pause for dramatic effect. Then, with absolute certainty, you deliver the bombshell: “I will marry Lady Alicent Hightower.”

A shocked silence follows, broken only by the sound of Otto’s breath catching in his throat. The lords gape, disbelief etched into their faces, and Viserys’s eyes widen in surprise, a mix of confusion and relief crossing his features. But it is Otto whose reaction is most striking—his face blanches, a rare display of genuine shock. “This is…” he begins, clearly scrambling for control, “This is not—”

You turn to him, your expression hardening, your voice cold and edged. “Are you offended, Lord Hand?” you ask pointedly. “That your daughter would one day be Queen? Is this not the very opportunity you’ve sought?”

Otto’s mouth opens, but no words come out as he searches for a response. You can see him weighing his options, assessing whether to push back or accept the twist of fate you’ve thrown at him. Before he can gather his wits, Corlys Velaryon’s deep voice rumbles through the chamber, breaking the silence.

“If Lord Hightower finds this match disagreeable, perhaps the Prince would consider my daughter, Laena, instead. The blood of Old Valyria would be preserved, and such a union would strengthen House Targaryen’s ties with the Velaryons.”

You hold back a smile at Corlys’s calculated offer, knowing full well that he’s taking advantage of Otto’s moment of hesitation. Otto’s eyes narrow at Corlys’s interjection, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he realizes he’s being cornered. Backing down would mean missing out on the very outcome he’s been subtly maneuvering toward, even if it wasn’t quite in the manner he’d intended.

After a long moment, Otto exhales slowly, carefully regaining his composure. “Of course, Your Grace,” he finally says, his tone clipped but respectful. “I… only wish for what is best for both you and the realm. If this is your decision, then I will see to it that the arrangements are made.”

You nod, satisfied, as you see the acceptance in his eyes. “Good,” you reply, your voice firm and unyielding. “Because I have no intention of letting anyone else dictate the future of this house. The realm needs strength, unity, and continuity, and I will see that it is achieved—on my terms.”

The council members exchange uneasy glances, realizing that they’ve just witnessed a pivotal shift in the dynamics of power within the Red Keep. Rhaenyra’s smirk remains, her eyes gleaming with admiration as she watches you assert your authority, while Viserys seems both relieved and unsettled by your newfound determination.

As the meeting continues, there’s no doubt left in anyone’s mind—you are no longer the sidelined prince. You are a force to be reckoned with, and the council now understands that you will not be ignored or underestimated.

The sun filters softly through the arched windows of the Red Keep, casting warm golden light over the ladies of the court as they gather in one of the sewing chambers. The room is filled with the gentle murmur of idle conversation, the sound of thread sliding through fabric, and the occasional soft laugh. Alicent sits among them, her focus on the delicate embroidery she’s working on. Her hands move with practiced grace, though her thoughts are distant, lingering on the conversation she had with her father and the weight of the expectations he’s placed on her.

She’s lost in her thoughts when a familiar figure bursts into the room with the energy of a brewing storm. Rhaenyra sweeps into the chamber, her eyes scanning the room until they land on Alicent. The princess’s expression is one of unbridled excitement, a grin wide and mischievous spreading across her face. “Alicent!” she calls out, her voice ringing with barely contained glee.

The ladies of the court look up from their work, startled by the princess’s sudden entrance. Alicent rises from her seat, her brow furrowing in confusion as she sets aside her embroidery. “Rhaenyra,” she says warmly, though with a hint of uncertainty. “What’s gotten into you? You look like a dragon who’s caught a sheep.”

Rhaenyra steps closer, her grin widening as she takes Alicent’s hands in her own. “I wanted to be the first to congratulate you,” she says, her eyes alight with barely restrained amusement.

Alicent blinks, bewilderment etched across her delicate features. “Congratulate me?” she repeats, glancing around at the other ladies, who are now watching the exchange with rapt attention. “I don’t understand—what are you talking about?”

Rhaenyra leans in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, though loud enough for the other ladies to hear and exchange curious glances. “You don’t know? Oh, Alicent, you’re going to be married.”

The world seems to tilt for Alicent, her breath catching in her throat as her heart pounds wildly in her chest. “Married?” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. “What… what do you mean? To whom?”

Rhaenyra’s grin softens into something more sincere as she watches the realization dawn on Alicent’s face. “To my brother, of course. Y/N announced it himself in the council meeting not half an hour ago. He declared that he’s decided to marry you.”

For a moment, the room seems to spin, the words hitting Alicent like a physical blow. Her chest tightens, and she feels a flush rise up her neck as her mind races to catch up with what she’s just heard. “He… he said that?” she asks, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something else—something that makes her heart skip a beat.

Rhaenyra nods, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she squeezes Alicent’s hands. “He did. Right there in front of everyone. You should have seen the look on Father’s face—he was stunned, and Otto nearly choked on his own breath. And you know what’s even better? He said it with such certainty, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He’s chosen you, Alicent. You’re going to be a queen one day.”

Alicent’s legs feel weak beneath her as the gravity of the situation sinks in. Her mind flashes back to the conversation with her father, to the pressure and expectations, to the fear that she would be forced into a match she had no say in. But this—this is something entirely different. Y/N chose her. Not because of Otto’s schemes or because it was expected, but because he decided it. The thought is overwhelming, both terrifying and thrilling all at once.

She struggles to find her voice, her emotions swirling in a chaotic mix of disbelief, gratitude, and apprehension. “I… I never imagined…” she stammers, unable to form a coherent sentence as she tries to process what this means for her.

Rhaenyra’s expression softens as she sees the turmoil in Alicent’s eyes. “You’re shaking,” she says gently, releasing one of Alicent’s hands to brush a stray tear from her friend’s cheek. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you should have seen the way he spoke about it. He was so resolute, so determined. And you—you deserve this happiness, Alicent. You deserve someone who sees you as more than just a tool in their schemes.”

Alicent’s breath shudders as she tries to regain control of her racing thoughts. “But what if… what if this is just another game? What if he’s being pushed into this?” she whispers, her voice laced with fear and doubt.

Rhaenyra shakes her head, her expression turning fierce. “No. This isn’t like that. My brother’s no fool, and he’s not one to be forced into anything he doesn’t want. This was his choice, and I think it’s about time someone reminded the court that he’s more than capable of making his own decisions.” Her grin returns, wry and full of pride. “And besides, I think you know him better than anyone else. You’ve seen how he looks at you.”

Alicent’s eyes widen, and a fresh flush colors her cheeks. She’s known for some time that there’s been an unspoken connection between her and Y/N, but she never dared to hope it would lead to something so monumental. The thought of being his wife, of standing beside him as queen—it’s as daunting as it is exhilarating.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she finally manages, her voice thick with emotion.

Rhaenyra’s smile softens into something more tender as she pulls Alicent into a warm embrace. “Then don’t say anything yet. Let it sink in. But know this—you’re not alone, Alicent. You have me, and you have him. And now, you have a future that’s yours to shape.”

As they part, the ladies of the court begin whispering excitedly among themselves, the news spreading like wildfire through the chamber. But Alicent barely notices, her mind still spinning as she tries to grasp the enormity of what’s just been revealed. For better or worse, everything has changed in the span of a single afternoon.

And somewhere deep in her heart, beneath the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of hope begins to bloom.

The sound of your boots echoes as you step into the Dragonpit, each footfall deliberate and heavy against the ancient stone floor. The cavernous space looms around you, darkened by shadows cast by the great arches above, yet the air hums with the presence of power—dragons and their keepers. You wear a deep, crimson coat embroidered with silver thread in the pattern of coiling dragons, the rich fabric tailored perfectly to your frame. Beneath it, your tunic is a dark charcoal, cinched at the waist by a wide leather belt, and black riding gloves encase your hands. Your hair, a cascade of silver, is tied back in a loose knot, allowing a few strands to catch the breeze. The light armor you wear, adorned with the sigil of House Targaryen, adds an edge of battle-readiness to your regal attire. Today is not merely for show—it’s a declaration of your return to the skies.

The Dragonkeepers, clad in leather armor and bearing the scars of long service to the dragons, bow slightly as you approach. Their deference is not out of fear, but out of respect for what is to come. With a silent nod from their leader, they move aside to reveal the imposing silhouette of your dragon.

Dallax emerges from the shadows, his massive form a study in sleek, predatory grace. His scales are a deep, inky black that gleams like polished obsidian under the faint light. Unlike most dragons, his eyes are not the usual shade of fire-yellow; they are a striking, luminescent green, gleaming with intelligence and an almost unsettling awareness. His pupils narrow to slits as he focuses on you, a low rumble vibrating through his chest. His body is built for agility and speed, lean but powerful, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. But it’s his teeth that make him most unique—when he’s calm, they are hidden away, retracting into his jaw, giving him a deceptively benign appearance. But you know better; when agitated or in the heat of battle, those teeth emerge like rows of daggers, sharp and menacing. It’s no wonder Rhaenyra affectionately calls him “Toothless” when she’s in a playful mood.

You take in the sight of him, a thrill running through your veins. It’s been months since you last mounted him, but the bond between you remains unshaken, as if it were a living thing forged in fire and blood. Dallax’s eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the unspoken understanding passes between dragon and rider. He has waited, patient but eager, for this moment as much as you have.

The Dragonkeepers pull back as you stride forward, your limp almost unnoticeable now, a testament to the months of recovery you’ve endured. With a firm hand, you reach up and grasp the saddle harness, your fingers gripping the familiar leather. In one smooth motion, you pull yourself up and swing your leg over Dallax’s back. You settle into the saddle, feeling the comforting weight of the straps as you secure yourself. Dallax shifts beneath you, his wings unfurling slightly, the dark membrane stretching wide, catching the breeze as if testing the air.

You take a deep breath, the scent of leather, smoke, and ancient stone filling your senses. “Fly,” you whisper in High Valyrian, a command and a plea all at once.

With a growl that vibrates through his entire frame, Dallax lowers himself briefly before launching into the air with a powerful surge of muscle. The ground falls away beneath you as his wings beat with precision, each stroke lifting you higher until the walls of the Dragonpit are a blur. The rush of wind tears at your hair, your coat billowing behind you like a banner as Dallax ascends into the open sky.

As you break free into the sunlight, the city of King’s Landing sprawls out below, the rooftops and winding streets glinting in the late afternoon light. Dallax roars—a sound both thrilling and terrifying—as he soars above the Red Keep, his shadow sweeping across the stone battlements like a predator stalking its prey.

From her chambers, Alicent stands by the window, her eyes fixed on the sky as she watches you fly. Her hands are clasped in front of her, a mixture of awe and fondness in her expression as she traces your flight path. You cut through the clouds with an effortless grace, Dallax responding to every shift of your body as if you are one being. For the first time in what feels like ages, there’s no tension in Alicent’s shoulders, only the quiet joy of seeing you in your element—free and commanding, a true Targaryen heir.

Behind her, Otto Hightower steps forward, his expression a mix of calculation and displeasure. He watches silently for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he observes the ease with which you handle your dragon, the majesty of it undeniable. “He’s just like his uncle,” Otto mutters, more to himself than to Alicent. “All fire and pride—reckless.”

Alicent doesn’t turn to face her father, but her smile lingers, soft and secret. “Perhaps,” she replies, her voice distant, her gaze still following your every move. “But there is more to him than you see, Father.”

Otto’s mouth tightens into a thin line, but he says nothing more, turning away from the window. To him, dragons are dangerous, unpredictable forces that must be controlled. But to you, they are freedom itself—a reminder that no matter how thick the walls of the Red Keep or how intricate the webs of intrigue, you are a dragonrider first and foremost, and no one can cage that fire.

As you guide Dallax into a steep dive, pulling up at the last moment to skim over the rooftops of the city, you feel a deep, exhilarating rush. The wind in your face, the roar of your dragon, and the vast sky stretched out before you—it’s a sensation unmatched by anything else, a reminder that the world is yours to claim, one way or another.

You circle back toward the Red Keep, allowing Dallax to level out and glide effortlessly. From below, you see Alicent at the window, her face turned upward, her smile radiant and full of something unspoken—pride, affection, and hope. For a brief moment, you dip your wings in her direction, a silent acknowledgment that she sees you for who you are, beyond the politics and the expectations.

#house of the dragon #hotd alicent #hotd #alicent x y/n #alicent x you #alicent x reader #alicent hightower #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x male reader #hotd x you #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #daemon targaryen #otto hightower

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cutecatlov3r · 2 years ago

Text

𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦!

bnha x reader ! (fem)

synopsis: halloween is so boring, right? that's what you thought until you met some new masked faces.

word count: 14.2k

warnings/tw: all characters are 18+, no quirks, college AU, alcohol, drugs, getting drugged(?), teasing, gang bang(?), recording, noncon(?), hair pulling, choking, degrading, praising, sub!reader, corruption, dry humping, nipple play, begging, oral (m! f!), fingering, spanking, cheating(Midoriya?), facials, manipulating (Midoriya?), piv, creampie, unprotected sex, grinding, clit grinding(?), and roleplay(?)

a/n: wrote this on wattpad but I'm posting it on here. not proofread, please comment if I messed anything up !... oh and please like, comment, and re-blog, ily ! please don't copy my work :x

song: Or Nah [Ty Dolla $ign, The Weekend, Wiz Khalifa, and Mustard]

"Come on Y/n! It'll be fun, you never go out anyway!"

My pink haired friend- well roommate, was currently convincing me to go to a special Halloween party... But it just sounds too cliche. I'm not really a party girl, I'd rather stay home and enjoy some horror movies.

Maybe I'll roll up a blunt later and let my mind take over as I watch people get murdered in the most gruesome ways...! In movies, of course.

"I promised some of my friends you'll be there!" Mina whined. She puffed out her cheeks, huffing.

I shook my head 'No'.

Mina's friends were well... They were men. When I see them around her on campus I could tell that they are kind of intimidating. Especially the guy with red hair. He was ripped with abs and muscles, his little scar at the top of his eyebrow made him look scary. In a delinquent way.

But I've never spoken to her friends yet so I can't really judge so quickly.

It's the start of my first year in college, it's only been three months since I've got here and I haven't really made any friends. Mina is basically my only friend. It's not my fault! I've just been too busy to go out and greet new people. School work is a pain in the ass!

Mina walked over to her room, abruptly, I cocked my eyebrow at her, wondering what she was going to do. She came running out of her room, throwing a bag at me. "I already bought you a costume too! Please N/n!" she begged. She got on her knees, putting her hands together. She gave me some puppy dog eyes.

I rolled my eyes, looking into the bag...

A bunny costume?

"Uh I don't know about this Mina," I said, furrowing my eyebrows. It's going to show a lot of skin.

"Please Y/n! It's going to be fun! All of my friends are matching costumes together, it's gonna look so cool and you'll be like the only person who won't be able to see it!"

I sighed, looking at the costume. It looks very provocative... I know I'm 18 and I'm officially an adult but jeez. I didn't think I'd ever see myself in such a revealing way. I'm usually in sweatpants and sweatshirts.

"I'll think about it," I said, shrugging. I put the bag on the coffee table nearby. I laid back on the couch, grabbing my phone to play some games.

The party was tonight, it was going to be hosted at someone's house. I think the guy's name was Shoto? I can't really remember what Mina was saying, she rambles a lot.

"Thank you my baby Y/n~ I'll tell everyone you're going!" Mina cheered, pumping her fist in the air. She grabbed out her phone quickly, typing fast.

"Wait I didn't say ye-"

"Already done! Everyone is expecting you now, so go and start getting ready!"

It's only 6 pm... Do I seriously have to get ready? I wanna stay home now. I wanted to at least take a quick nap...

"The party starts at 9, but we are going around 8 to help set up. Shoto is my friend so I don't want him to set up alone," Mina said, stretching.

"Fine..." I sulked.

Shit...

I looked at myself in the mirror. My tits were basically spilling out of my costume! My thigh highs kept slipping off as well. I turned around and saw the fluffy cotton tail, but my butt was pretty much fully exposed. I had my hair down, sighing, I put on the bunny ears.

This is nothing like me but goddamn I do look pretty sexy. I just did my makeup normally, I went with my go-to makeup look, I wasn't trying to go all out tonight. I honestly am not expecting anything crazy to happen.

All I really want to do is say 'hi' and maybe take a shot or two, then I'll come home and watch some horror films.

Knock!

"Y/n!" Mina called out, knocking on my door.

"Just open it," I yelled. I didn't lock my door so she just came in.

Mina walked in, looking at her phone. She must've just got done calling someone. She was wearing an all black bodysuit. She had black lipstick that was very vivid, it went along well with her dark brown skin. It fit her perfectly. I looked at her belt, it had a ghost-face mask attached to it. Ah! She must be trying to be ghost-face for this Halloween! "It's time to-"

She just stared at me in disbelief. Does she think I look bad?!

"...Uh... How do I look?" I asked, trying to break the silence.

"You look... Sexy!!!" Mina shouted, excitedly. She walked around me in circles. She was making sure to see everything. "It fits you perfectly! I didn't know you had such a sexy body!!" she continued.

The praise from her made my cheeks heat up. I rarely ever had compliments told to my face. It made me feel special. Mina always hypes me up when I show the tiniest bit of skin but this is the most she's seen. So I'm guessing she is very proud of me.

"You look very nice too! Are you ghost-face?" I asked, looking at her cute costume some more.

She shook her head 'yes', holding a thumbs up. "My friends and I are planning on matching!"

That's a cute idea. It will be cool seeing a bunch of ghost-faces at a party! Maybe this party won't be so bad... Mina put me in a confident mood, so I hate to say it but I'm kind of excited. As much as I don't want to go, I guess it wouldn't hurt to have some sort of fun.

"Let's get going," Mina said, shaking her car keys in my face. I smiled, nodding.

We walked out of our apartment, heading to Mina's hot pink car. One thing everyone should know about Mina is that her favorite color is pink, well, she only likes the color pink. She made an exception for her friends today when she put on her black bodysuit.

Mina jumped in the car, starting the engine, I sat in the passenger seat. I put on my seat belt, sitting back, comfortably. Her seats were a fuzzy pink fur type. It was always so soft.

After checking her black lipstick she started driving.

"This is like a 15 minute drive. Shoto lives out on the country side," Mina said, focusing her eyes on the road.

"That sounds cool," I replied, looking at my phone. I scrolled through my twitter feed, nothing really interesting was happening now.

"So are you planning on getting laid?" Mina teased, giggling.

That question was out of nowhere! I dropped my phone, flustered. "No! Of course not..." I mumbled.

"Oh c'mon Y/n! When was the last time you got laid?" Mina asked. She tapped her fingers against her steering wheel, showing me her teasing gaze.

I went into a deep thought. I'm not a virgin or anything but I just don't have time to sleep with anyone right now, school work is my priority.

"Hm... I think like 8 months ago?" I replied. It was an old friend from high school, we both had sex only because we we're just reminiscing on old memories. We don't talk anymore, I guess. I don't care though. In my experience... Sex wasn't really that exciting to me.

"8 MONTHS?!" Mina shrieked, pretending to swerve the car.

"I don't care for sexual things," I shrugged, embarrassed. I never spoke with anyone about my sexual life so it all was embarrassing.

Mina shook her head, wagging her finger at me as she kept her eyes on the road.

"We are getting you laid tonight," she stated.

I yawned. "I doubt I'll get laid. But if I do then it'll be a miracle,"

"I'll pray for you," Mina giggled. She turned on the radio, blasting it all the way up. The bass was making my heart shake, I didn't mind it though. Nicki Minaj is always her go-to rapper. So I just closed my eyes as Nicki Minaj's music played.

After a few minutes of Mina singing her heart out, she turned down the music. I opened my eyes, wondering if we'd made it to the party. I looked at the house in front of us and... It was huge! It was like a palace!

This can't be the place... right?!

"We're here," Mina said, parking her car at the front of the house. There was a circle-like entrance, a white fountain was in the middle. It looked amazing. I stepped out of the car to admire the outside of the house. It looked like a dream house that everyone would want, it probably cost millions. Mina got out of the car, standing next to me. "It's pretty, isn't it? When I first came here I had the same reaction,"

"Why are you two just standing there?" a voice asked.

I turned my attention to the huge door of the house. A boy with red and white hair stood there. He had a scar on his eye that was on the left side of his face. I'm not judging or anything, it actually looked pretty cool. He had on a ghost-face costume, letting a black hooded robe go down to his ankles. I wonder where his mask was.

"Shoto!" Mina yelled, walking quickly up the stairs of his entrance. I followed behind her, not knowing where I should go.

"Mina," Shoto greeting, nodding his head. His eyes were multicolored, one was blue and one was grey. His eyes trailed on my figure, starting from the bottom to the top. "You're in my English class. Your name is Y/n, right?"

He's in my class?! Gosh... I'm so rude for not even noticing!

"Yes," I nod. "I'm assuming you're Shoto?"

He nodded at me, giving me a light smile. He stepped aside from his door, waving his hand as a gesture for Mina and I to come in.

Amazed is an understatement. As soon as I stepped inside I was greeted with flashing lights, there were Halloween decorations everywhere. It looked so cool! Compared to the outside, the inside looks enticing. There was a double stairway that led to the second floor... All of it was simply breath taking!

"What could we help you with?" Mina asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"I think I did everything already. I told you, you didn't need to come and help. Midoriya and Ochako are actually in the kitchen, they are putting the drinks in some ice. I guess if you want, you can ask them if they need help with anything," Shoto explained.

Mina nodded, walking to the kitchen.

I stayed with Shoto. I don't even know why I didn't follow Mina. Shoto looked at me, I stared at him. It was silent, I don't really know what to say. I barely know this guy so it's bound to be weird if it's just us two.

Shoto coughed in an attempt to break this awkward silence. "Do you want to go to the lounge to have a seat?" he asked, kindly.

I'm kind of unsure on what to reply with but for now I guess I could try to befriend Shoto. I followed him to his lounge area and oh my... It was huge! There were two ping pong tables, two pool tables, drinks and snacks everywhere, gaming beanie bags, and a very big flat screen T.V. I can also see how the outside looks from the huge bay window, from what I can see there was definitely a pool out there. Is this heaven...?!

He sat on the couch near the gaming chairs, he patted down the seat beside him. I'm pretty sure it was a signal for me to sit with him, to which I accepted, taking a seat beside him.

"I like your costume. I never pictured you as someone who'd wear that though," Shoto commented.

I dead panned. Is that a compliment or an insult...? Jeez... Am I really that boring or something? C'mon! This outfit can't be that different from what I usually wear... Well... It is but still! I can have fun sometimes!

"Thanks..." I sulked, looking at the ground.

"Do you want something to drink?" Shoto asked, using his thumb to point behind him at the drinks.

I took a second to think but I just ended up nodding. One drink can't hurt.

Shoto gave me a slight smile, walking over to the red cooler. I looked around some more as he was rummaging through the cooler. I admired the detail and decorations put up to make this party seem fun.

"Shoto, where's the whiskey?" a deep voice asked, it seemed uninterested and bored.

Goddamn... That voice sounded so sexy, by habit I turned around to face the voice. It was a taller man with black shaggy hair. He was in sweatpants and a black shirt. The shirt hugged his muscles tightly. He had piercings and tattoos covering his body. I looked down at his hands to see black nail polish paint on his fingernails. He looked so hot.

His deep blue eyes pierced through mine, he licked his lips seductively.

"Aw Shoto, who's this little bunny?" he asked, taking a seat next to me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, admiring my outfit up close. He had no shame as he stared directly at my tits! It's... It's kind of hot though.

"Go away Toya," Shoto groaned, sitting on the other side of me, he gave me a beer. I opened it, taking a sip.

I can see Shoto glaring at Toya, all Toya did was give him a smirk.

"I'm Toya, friends call me Dabi but you can call me whatever you want, pretty girl," Toya said, grabbing my chin to make sure I keep eye contact with him. He's so ugh... Sexy... My heart was beating at a rapid pace, he took my breath away. I could feel my face warm up from the nickname.

"I'm Y/n," I greeted, averting my eyes from his. I'm not trying to be rude but the eye contact was too intense. If I kept looking into his eyes I would've got lost in them.

He chuckled, letting go of my face. Shoto rolled his eyes at Toya.

"I thought you said that you don't do lame parties like this," Shoto said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I don't, just came here to get some whiskey and go back up to my room," Toya shrugged.

His room? Wait are they both brothers? I mean I can see some similarities. Their eyes are both gorgeous, their facial structure is sharp and handsome. I guess I could see them being brothers. Even if they are, I wonder why Shoto doesn't seem very fond of him.

"Well then get the liquor and leave then?" Shoto scoffed, irritated.

Toya let out a little laugh. He got up off the couch and walked over to the table with all the drinks. I took another sip of my beer as I watched him grab a big bottle of 'Jack Daniel's Whiskey'. He stopped in his tracks, standing right over me.

"If this party gets boring, don't be afraid to just go upstairs. My room is down the right hallway, it's the last door on the left. Hope I see you there soon, we can have lots of fun," Toya flirted. His hand went into his pocket, he pulled out a little baggie that contained two round and white pills. He gave me a quick wink before leaving.

Shoto shook his head. "Sorry about my older brother, he isn't always like this,"

I put my hands up, swaying them. I wasn't offended or anything. "No, no, it's okay! I'm fine!"

Shoto let out a sigh of relief. "So, are you excited for this party?" he asked, taking a sip of his own beer.

"I don't really know anyone around campus. I only came because Mina begged me to. I don't really have high hopes but from the decorations and everything, it seems like it's going to be fun," I replied, relaxing my body on the couch.

"It's Halloween, I'm sure it'll be fun," Shoto said, relaxing down on the couch with me.

I shrugged, sipping on the beer can, it was bitter. I never really was fond of beer, I was more of a vodka girl.

"We should hangout sometime, I always see you around campus but I never talked to you. You seem cool," Shoto said, nonchalantly. His monotonous voice was very sensual, I liked it a lot.

I nodded my head. "Sure, we should exchange numbers,"

Shoto agreed. We both gave each other phones to each other. I added my contact info in his and he added his into mine. I wouldn't mind having lunch with Shoto, he seems nice so far. We also have English together, supposedly, so we could help each other out here and there.

Ding!

Shoto looked at his phone. "Fuck..." he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow.

"Everyone is planning on coming early, they are going to be here in like five minutes,"

I started to get filled with anxiety. Who exactly is everyone? Did he mean the whole university or...? Gosh, I'm just nervous!

"When everyone gets here our group is planning on meeting up in my room. You should come too, I'm sure they won't mind," Shoto said, pushing his hair back, it kept falling down a little.

"Oh, what are you guys going to be doing?" I asked. I didn't want to intrude if they were taking photos or anything together, it's their group and I don't want to be rude. I know many people don't like it when a new person joins their group randomly.

"We're just going to smoke some weed and then come downstairs to the party," Shoto replied.

I gave him an unsure look. I don't want to be cross-faded at this party without having any friends to help me if I black out.

Shoto gave me a concerned look. "Shit I'm sorry, I didn't know if you smoked or not. I get it if you're not cool with things like that, I apologize,"

Shit! I didn't want to seem mad by smoking weed, I do it here and there too!

"No! It's not that... I just don't want to be cross-faded at this party. I don't want anything bad to happen, you know?" I said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.

Shoto lightly chuckled. "Don't worry, nothing bad will happen, I swear. We all will be in my room around 9pm sharp. Be there, I insist. I'm personally inviting you," he said, softly.

I gave him a nod, smiling back.

"Fine, I'll go,"

"Did you want me to walk you there? I know that you haven't been here before. You may get lost," Shoto said, standing up, slowly.

"Oh you wanted to go right now? It's only 8:30?" I said, standing up as well. I finished the last of my beer, holding an empty can. I looked around for a trash can. I spotted it, I better remind myself to throw this away in a little bit.

"We can just hangout there for a little bit, my friends will meet us up there whenever. We all just agreed to be there by 9," Shoto explained, holding out his hand for me to take.

I decided to hold his hand as he led me to his room. We walked up the flight of stairs. The hallway was huge! Halloween decorations were everywhere! It was so cool. We walked down a dark hallway, he opened a door, which I assumed was his room. I stepped inside of the room, it was nice and clean. It was in a Japanese-like structure. It was like a living room though, not even, more like an apartment. His room was huge.

I took a seat on the couch that was in there, Shoto sat next to me, texting on his phone.

"Midoriya will be here any second now so it isn't awkward," Shoto said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with only me being in here, I don't want it to seem like I just want it to be us two. I thought I should invite Midoriya in here as well so you guys could also be introduced," Shoto responded.

Aw. That's sweet that he thought about my feelings, I appreciated that respectfulness in a man.

"That's sweet of you to think about how I feel. And trust me, I'm not uncomfortable around you, but thank you for considering my feelings," I thanked, giving him a big smile.

He looked down, his hair was above his eyes so I couldn't see them but his face was tinted pink. Cute.

Knock!

"Come in!" Shoto called out.

"Hey Sho-" a boy started, stopping his sentence as he saw me. The boy had freckles, his green eyes matched with his fluffy green hair. He was wearing a black robe, holding his ghost-face mask in his left hand.

"Midoriya, this is Y/n," Shoto said, placing his hand on my shoulder. I gave Izuku a small smile and a little wave. I've definitely seen him on campus. He's always around a girl with brown hair and a guy with glasses.

Izuku's face was bright red as he walked over to us. He avoided looking at my outfit, I wonder why. Does he think it looked bad?

"N-nice to meet you y/n," Midoriya stuttered. "I'm Izuku," he introduced, extending his hand towards mine.

"Nice to meet you too, Izuku," I smiled, shaking his hand.

"You're Mina's roommate right? She talks about you all the time," Izuku commented, taking a seat next to me. He looked nervous and sweaty. He was a very cute guy, he seemed very shy though from what I could tell.

I laughed slightly, nodding. "I am her roommate," I confirmed. I had no idea Mina talked about me around her friends, it made me feel special. Mina always has a way at making people feel special, I love her.

"Kacchan and the others just called before I came in here, saying they were outside so they should be here any-"

Knock!

"Speak of the devil," Izuku smiled, looking towards the door.

"Come in!" Shoto called out, his attention going to the door as well.

The door swung open, it made a loud sound. I made a little squeak, I wasn't ready to hear that loud noise. A bunch of people with ghost-face masks barged in. They all were wearing their masks, I couldn't even tell who was who.

"Got here early dipshit!"

"There's already some people down stairs, let's fucking party already! I brought the weed!"

"Hurry the hell up... I'm going over to Dabi's room for some molly after this..."

"Who's that?"

"Woah! Shoto! You bought us a stripper?!" a guy asked, rushing over to me. He took off his mask, revealing a blonde haired boy. He had a black strip of lightning in his hair. His golden eyes made direct eye contact with my eyes. "You're really sexy you know!"

I blushed at his comment. Who is this guy?

"Denki! Leave her alone!" Mina called out, pushing past the other masked people. She ran over to Denki, slapping the back of his head. He winced in pain, rubbing the spot where she had hit.

"Who's that, Mina?" a voice asked. The voice took off his mask... It was that one scary guy with the red hair! He had his hair down today though, it was usually all gelled up! He looked not so scary with his hair down.

"Everyone! Take off your masks! I want to introduce you to the infamous Y/n L/n!" Mina cheered, going behind me to do some jazz hands.

I looked as each of the people took off their masks. They all stared at me. There was a high tension in the room as I looked at the other males in the room. Their eyes were glued to me... I didn't know how to feel. I felt like a lost bunny with a pack of hungry wolves... It didn't help that every single man in the room right now... is either sexy or hot! They made my legs feel weak.

One of the men was an ashy blonde, his eyebrows were furrowed. He glared at me with his red eyes. He looked annoyed. Jeez... Maybe this was a bad idea coming here into Shoto's room... I knew they wouldn't like me.

"Hi! I'm Eijiro Kirishima! It's very nice to finally meet you!" the red head said, giving me a bright smile.

This is surprising... He's so sweet! He wasn't anything like I expected, he seemed to give off a positive energy. I feel kind of bad I judged him based on his looks, he is like a happy little puppy.

I gave him a smile back. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you too,"

"So pretty lady, you're smoking with us or what?"

I looked over at the voice, he gave me a smug smirk. He had black hair, it was a mullet-like type of hair cut. It looked really good on him. He held up a plastic bag full of weed, showing it off for me to see. His almond shaped eyes weren't even looking at my face, they were obviously looking at either my thighs or my waist.

"Don't pressure her," another voice added.

I looked over at him. He was pushing his messy purple hair back. He had visible eye bags. His lavender eyes stayed staring at the floor, he seemed tired. He gave me an off-vibe. I liked the mysterious vibe though.

Mina shook her head. "This here is Bakugou, Sero, Shinso, and Denki," she stated, pointing to each of the boys. Bakugou was the ashy blonde who was glaring at me. Sero is that one guy with the smug smirk. And lastly, Shinso was the boy with the very unique purple eyes.

"I am here to smoke too..." I muttered, looking down at my hands. I feel embarrassed to really be here. I was the only person who wasn't dressed as ghost-face in this room.

Denki looked at me, confused. "You smoke?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Damn, what other secrets aren't you telling us about bunny-girl?" he giggled.

I felt my heart race rapidly at his little nickname. A hot guy calling me 'bunny-girl' doesn't happen so often. Denki was very attractive, just from looking at his ear piercings and his little ring lip piercing, it was obvious he was hot! He did look very confident talking to me so I'm pretty sure he's some kind of flirt.

"It's Y/n," Mina corrected, irritated by her friends.

Shinso laid down on Shoto's bed. Denki and Sero sat down on two bean bags. Bakugou and Mina joined Izuku, Shoto, and I on the couch. Kirishima sat on the floor, happily. I took a deep breath, trying to relieve my anxiety. I felt so anxious being here.

"Aw, is someone nervous?" Sero teased.

"No! I just am a bit anxious... I don't know you all that well," I admit.

"Aw, that's cute. Don't worry, we don't bite," Kirishima laughed.

His laughter made me feel a bit better. I took a deep breath, relieving my nerves. This won't be bad, it will be just fine. I just needed to stay calm, all we're doing is smoking.

"Let's get started then, shall we?" Sero asked, his voice sounding as if he was teasing me.

Mina grabbed my arm, suddenly, taking a picture of the two of us. She kissed my cheek, and grabbed my boob in the photo. I didn't care though, I know that she's a touchy person. Sometimes I can be touchy with her too. I was used to this.

"Cute! This is going on my Instagram later," she squealed. I smiled at her childishness.

"My turn?" Denki flirted, winking. He attempted to grab my hand but Mina smacked it away, wagging her finger at him. He gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

I giggled at his poor attempt to touch me. He is such a dork.

"Hey, that's not a bad idea. Let's all take a photo with the bunny-girl, it'll look so cool," Sero said, grinding up the weed in his grinder. What did he mean by cool? It would make me look like an odd one out, in my opinion.

"I wouldn't mind that," I agreed, looking around at everyone.

"It's only if you want to Y/n," Izuku said, reassuringly. He stopped his shy act, maybe he was more comfortable because he's around me, though his cheeks were still a bit pink.

Shoto took out his phone, tapping my shoulder. "Selfie?" he asked.

I nodded, smiling. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder as he took the picture. I am a pretty touchy person myself, only when I feel comfortable. I think the beer from earlier made me feel more confident as I spent more time with everyone.

"Hey, c'mon let's take a group photo. Stop trying to keep her to yourself, Shoto," Denki scoffed. It was a playful scoff, nothing signifying he was irritated.

"I-I'm not," he said, softly.

"Now! Mina! Can you please take the picture!?" Sero asked, giving his phone to her. Mina rolled her eyes, shaking her head yes.

"Can you stand up for a second bunny-girl?" Denki asked, sweetly. He gave me a cheeky smile. I agreed to stand up only because he asked so sweetly.

Denki sat in the middle, Izuku and Kirishima sat next to him. Shoto sat on the floor with Sero, under Denki. Bakugou and Shinso stood behind the couch. They all put on their ghost-face masks. It looked so damn cool!

But where am I supposed to sit on the couch? I looked down, not knowing what to do.

"Come here," Denki smiled, patting his lap. I looked at him confused… Is he asking me to sit on his lap? Should I? I barely know these guys but they all seem nice… Well almost all of them. I guess I could, I should let loose a bit, I shouldn't be known as a 'good girl'. I want to have fun!

I took a deep breath, walking over to Denki and the group. Shoto and Sero moved over a little so I could get by. I sat on Denki's lap, spreading my legs a little so I don't have them on Shoto or Sero. I don't want to make them feel uncomfortable.

Denki giggled, placing his hands on my waist, rubbing up and down slowly. He put his face by my ear, smelling my hair. "You smell good, babe," he whispered. My breath hitched a little, I could feel my core heat up. His voice was something that I really liked about him.

"Say cheese!" Mina yelled, giggling.

No one said anything, she snapped about three photos.

"More poses!" she demanded.

What other poses should we do?

"I have an idea, if it's okay with you babe?" Denki said, innocently.

I shrugged. "Alright, do whatever you want Denki,"

Denki did a little cheer underneath his breath. He grabbed Shoto's hand and placed it on my thigh, grabbing Sero's hand and doing the same thing. My mind was racing, my heart was beating fast. I didn't think he was going to do this! Denki put Izuku and Kirishima's hands on my boobs. I felt so hot and heated, I squeezed my legs together, slightly, not knowing what to say, lastly he put his hands on my waist.

Mina cocked her eyebrow, snapping some pictures. I could feel someone's hand go through my hair, roughly pulling on it. I let out a squeak, it hurt but I kind of liked it.

Mina snapped more photos. And within seconds a hand was around my neck, squeezing it, tightly. I blushed instantly, I don't know why I feel this way. I want to rub my thighs together so bad but Shoto and Sero's hands would be touching where I needed friction and I don't want that right now! It would be too embarrassing!

"All done!" Mina said, skipping over to us, handing Sero back his phone.

Everyone stopped touching me, I felt so dizzy. I shook my head, taking some deep breaths. That was intense… These guys are all so hot… I can't help feeling like this!

Sero grabbed his phone, showing everyone the photos. I was a blushing mess in almost all of them. I feel so embarrassed seeing myself in such a provocative way.

"You look good Y/n," Kirishima complimented, holding a thumbs up. He took off his mask, showing how red his face was.

"She deserves an award for this, right?" Sero teased, taking his mask off as well. Was he asking everyone or…? Sero was kind of confusing.

"She looks like a slut," a gruff voice commented. I turned around to face Bakugou, he scoffed at me, rolling his eyes.

W-well if I was a slut then I'd be happy to be one for these nice guys! I furrowed my eyebrows, rolling my eyes at him.

I could hear him curse underneath him breath, it made me smirk.

"Let's get back to business," Shinso said, sitting down by the grinder. He started grinding it up himself. Sero sighed, going over to Shinso to help. The two of them took off their masks.

Ding!

Mina looked at her phone. She started squealing.

"I gotta go, I'll smoke what's left! Ochako and Tsuyu are doing body shots!" she shouted, running out of the room.

Wait! Shit! I'm going to be the only one here then!

Bakugou walked over to the door, locking it. He took off his mask, giving me an angry look, sitting on one of the bean bags in Shoto's room.

Now I began to get more nervous. I was the only girl here now, everyone's eyes were on me. My heart was racing, seeing all of these eyes on me.

Denki grabbed my hips by surprise. I let out a tiny whimper because I wasn't expecting this. He let out a laugh, taking off his mask

"You're so cute," he complimented, pushing my body back to lay against his chest. I felt so tense. I took a deep breath, relaxing myself into Denki's arms.

I could feel something hard poking me. I began to get flustered by all of the thoughts running through my mind, was he hard right now?! Goddammit, this is making me feel more tense… I am flattered though.

"H-he's not wrong, you are pretty cute," Izuku added, taking off his mask, and looking away. His green hair covered his emerald colored eyes that I liked to look at.

"Tch. Stop acting so innocent Deku. We all know that's a fucking lie," Bakugou scoffed.

Izuku shook his head, slowly. He gave Bakugou a stern look, I did not expect this from him…

"Don't listen to him… He's just in a mood today," Shoto said, standing over me. He defended Izuku.

I nodded, understanding that what Bakugou said wasn't true… well maybe it wasn't, Izuku looked very serious. His seriousness made me feel nervous, in a good way.

"All done!" Sero cheered, lighting up his joint. He took a deep drag out of it.

"Share some!" Kirishima whined, walking over to Sero to get a hit out of the blunt.

I waited patiently for my turn. As the blunt went around, I watched each one of the boys start to get their high on. Denki took a deep drag, blowing the smoke in my face. I coughed, using my hand to fan away the smoke. Denki put the joint in his mouth, using his arms to flip me over to face him, I was straddling his waist now. I wanted to grind against him by instinct but I didn't, I waited for him to tell me what to do.

He inhaled the smoke, grabbing my hair, harshly. He connected our lips, I was so shocked. My eyes widened at the realization that he kissed me. I inhaled the smoke through his mouth, letting out a tiny cough.

Izuku was in a trance, seeing us two, up close. I got up off Denki's lap, I could feel my legs start to shake. I felt so weak. Looking around, I can see that each boy had their jaw agape. I sat next to Denki, sitting silently as he gave me the blunt.

What the hell was that… I… I… I've never felt so alive! I want to feel my heart race like that again… I want to take him right here and right now… That was so fucking sexy! I took a deep breath, taking a hit of the joint and passing it.

"Wait Denki! Did you fuck up the cycle?! It's puff puff pass! You fucker, your ass can get killed if it wasn't just us here, dumbass," Sero scolded. Denki just shrugged, not caring. He placed both of his hands behind his head, smirking.

I eased into the couch as I let my high take over.

"Let's hurry this shit up, they're doing jello shots downstairs," Bakugou stated, taking one last hit.

We went around in a circle two more times until Sero put out the joint in an ash tray that he brought with him.

"Save that for Mina, let's go," he said, walking over to the door.

I yawned, feeling my high. I did not want to get up. I wanted to stay there and relax.

"Go without me…" I mumbled, laying down on the couch.

"Tch, idiot,"

"We'll be back shortly, y/n!"

"Lock the door if it makes you more comfortable,"

"I'll be back in a second, we can finish what we started,"

"Bye!"

I didn't really care about what they said, I just loved this relaxing feeling. I smiled to myself, sitting up on the couch.

Wait… Maybe I should join them downstairs? I don't want to seem like a downer. Gosh now I feel bad... I shook my head, ready to stand up and join the rest of the party.

"Hey," a voice said.

I looked over to see Shinso hunched over a table. His head was down, arms over it. He turned his head to face me.

"Wanna try some molly?" he asked, shrugging. He said it so bluntly.

Holy shit. Molly? I'm already high… But fuck that would be so fucking fun.

"Yes," I said, a little too quickly.

Shinso got up, grabbing my hand. We walked over to Shoto's door, opening the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked, Shinso led me through some hallways. The bright colors of the decorations made me trip hard. It was so beautiful. I felt happy being here. The loud music made my heart shake because of the bass. We had to go around many people to get to our destination.

Shinso opened the door to a room, walking in I could see there was black decor everywhere. It was like walking into a gothic horror house. I looked around to see a familiar face, a blonde guy standing next to him.

"Woah, little bunny, you actually came!" Toya laughed. He walked over to me with his friend. Both him and his friend were way taller than my, they stood over me, looking at me with lust in their eyes.

"You're the cute chick Dabi couldn't stop talking about? He was right about you being sexy. I'm Keigo," Keigo introduced. He had a visible eyebrow piercing. His hair was long and shabby so I couldn't spot ear piercings but I wouldn't be surprised if I saw them.

"We came here for some molly," Shinso said, stepping in front of me.

Toya laughed. "Are you sure? I can smell the weed off your breath,"

Shinso nodded.

Toya raised his eyebrows, shrugging. "It's your funeral," he commented.

Shinso led my hand to Toya's coffee table. On the coffee table were some white lines. A $100 bill was rolled up, It seemed Toya and Keigo were already doing some before we got here.

"One line each, that's it dummies," Toya stated. "I don't want anyone dying tonight,"

"For real, the last time the guy's body wouldn't fit in the grave," Keigo joked.

I nodded my head, giggling, sitting down by Shinso. Shinso took the $100 bill and put it by his nose, sniffing the white line like it was nothing. He handed me the bill. I looked at it unsure. Should I really do this? I'm already just fine with being high off weed…

"C'mon be a good girl and do it," Keigo said, watching me intensely.

"Yeah little lady, you can take it, right?" Toya asked, placing his cold hand on the back of my neck.

I nodded my head, I used the bill to sniff up the white powder. I've never done molly when it's crushed up. So it took a couple of tries to get it all in my nose.

"Wow, what a good girl," Toya complimented, patting my back.

Shinso glared at Toya, grabbing my hand.

"We'll get going," he said, standing up.

"Wait, bunny-girl. If you want to feel even more good, take some of this," Toya stated, handing a pill to me.

"What's this?" I asked, my eyes feeling droopy.

"A surprise," he winked.

I nodded my head, not thinking. Toya pinched my cheeks together, inserting the pill into my mouth, his thumb grazing over my lip, I swallowed it without hesitation. I wanted to get fucked up tonight, I trust Toya enough not to kill me.

"Have fun you two," Keigo said, cockily.

Shinso put up his middle finger, grabbing my arm to walk out of the room. He led me back to Shoto's room. Once we settled into the room, we both laid in Shoto's bed right next to each other.

"Why'd you want to try molly with me, you don't even know me?" Shinso asked, his voice sounding more deep.

I looked around the room. I felt euphoria… This is the best I've ever felt. The molly kicked in quickly. My head was spinning, it felt so damn good.

"You're hot," I replied, shrugging. That is one of the reasons as to why I tried molly with this hot stranger. I didn't lie to him or anything.

"You're sexy," he commented, facing me.

"Thank you," I thanked, looking into his lavender eyes. I felt so good, it was so amazing. "This is the best I've ever felt," I admit.

"This is amazing, do you feel the universe spinning?" Shinso asked.

I nodded my head, quickly. "Yes!"

Wait… What the hell…? I sat up, sweating. Shinso used his elbows to prop himself up to look at me.

"What's up?"

"I feel hot," I said, waving my hands to fan me. I could feel heat deep inside my core. I can't ignore this! What the hell is going on?! I panted, putting my thighs together. It's… It's unbearable! I need friction now! It's too hot!

"Don't look!" I yelled, walking over to the couch, which was across the room.

Shinso closed his eyes, his movements slow.

I took off my outfit, I needed to get some air, it's so hot, it isn't going away! I need help, my core was hurting. My black panties had a wet spot on them, I felt it slightly and it was damp, very damp. What did Toya give me?!

"What's goin-"

Shinso made direct eye contact with me. I covered my chest, blushing instantly. Shit! I'm basically naked… I only have my thigh highs and panties right now.

"What happened?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

"I feel so hot! Shinso! It's unbearable, you- You have to help me!" I yelled, panting

Shinso walked over to me, trying to avoid looking at my body. "How can I help you?" he asked.

"I-I don't know!" I replied, rubbing my thighs together.

Shinso looked at me confused. He thought for a second. "Shit. Dabi must've given you some sort of pill to make you… well… you know,"

"Fucking Toya!" I yelled, squirming around. This hurts, I need friction now. I need help now. It doesn't help that I'm feeling so good already.

"Just come here," Shinso said, shaking his head. "I can try to help,"

I nodded my head, sitting next to him. Fuck… He looks so hot, I want him. I want him so badly. Wait. Stop! Why am I thinking like this.

Shinso looked away from me, patting his lap.

I straddled his lap. I need friction, I can't help it… Stop it. Don't do it…

Shinso took a deep breath, grabbing my chin, placing his soft and tender lips on mine. I could feel his hot tongue in my mouth. We swirled our tongues together, it's making me feel more turned on. How is this helping?! He moved his hand to my hips, helping me grind myself on his lap. With his other hand, he groped my boob, kneading it in his hand.

I let out a whimper. It felt so good, I want more.

"M-more," I stuttered, looking down at my panties. I liked seeing the way my panties were grinding against his thigh.

He took my cheeks with his hand, pinching them together. I looked in his eyes, he gave me a sly smile. "Beg some more and I'll think about helping you," he said, taking his hands off my body.

I wanted to cry, I needed relief now! It's too hot, I need it!

"Please Shinso! Please help me," I begged, I could feel tears at the ends of my eyes.

Shinso gave me a smirk, crashing his lips on mine once again. His tongue felt so good, I need him right now… He pinched both of my nipples with his hands, causing my back to arch. I felt myself grinding on him, instantly. He gave me a seductive look in his eyes, placing one of my nipples in his mouth. He swirled his tongue, sucking on it softly. I jolted in pleasure. It all felt too good… I want Shinso to fuck me right now! I don't need foreplay! I just need him now!

"Hey guys-"

Me and Shinso's head shot up to see Izuku, Kirishima, Sero, Bakugou, Denki, and Shoto standing there.

I covered my boobs, getting off of Shinso's lap. The heat in my core was still burning, I know I'm supposed to feel embarrassed but… I just feel even more heated.

"Holy shit Shinso!" Denki yelled, walking over to sit next to me. "You really started without us? Tsk, that's cold,"

Shinso rolled his eyes at the blonde. What did Denki mean by that?!

"I'm just joking, but seriously, shit, if it wasn't for me wanting to come up here then you guys would've had some fun, right?" Denki teased. He wrapped his arm around me, looking down at my squished up boobs.

"Denki, stop being a dick, leave them alone. Let's go," Kirishima said, looking away from me.

"No we should stay," Sero shrugged.

I don't care who stays! I just need to feel relieved right now! They all are hot as fuck so I don't care!!!

"Let's leave," Shoto said, softly. He covered his eyes with his hands.

Bakugou let out a little laugh. I cocked my eyebrow at him. He walked towards me. With one hand he grabbed my hair, tightly. With the other, he held onto my throat.

For some odd reason, I really liked the pain he was inflicting on me.

"This slut wants us to stay, don't you?" he asked. He looked at me as if I was a pathetic whore. My body wanted them to stay but my morality knows it would be such a bad thing to do, especially with all of them being here. Bakugou pulled my legs apart. He laughed. "So wet for us huh?"

I felt so dizzy, I wanted this rude man to touch me everywhere. I don't even like him.

"I-is that true y/n? Do you want us to stay?" Izuku asked, softly. His face was as red as a tomato.

My body answered for me. I nodded my head, desperate for any type of relief. I don't care who does it, I need it right now.

Bakugou smirked at me, his eyes felt as if they were glowing red. Maybe it was the molly or whatever but holy shit… I'm tripping. His eyes were so beautiful...

Shoto walked over to his door, making sure it was locked. As he went to lock the door, everyone came towards me and Bakugou, surrounding us.

"I knew you were a slut," he scoffed. He grabbed me by my hair, pulling me down to the floor. He let go as I sat on the floor. My thighs were squeezing together, I watched as he walked over to Shoto's bed. He sat down on it, spreading his legs a little bit. He looked so sexy right now…

"Hey! Don't be so rough," Kirishima scolded, bending down to get on my level. He grabbed my cheek, caressing it. "You okay?" he asked, concerned. He tried to keep his eyes away from my boobs.

I nodded my head. He was so sweet, if I wasn't feeling how I was, I would've asked for his number. I feel pathetic that they are all witnessing me look so lewd. God… I just want this feeling between my legs to go away!

"Hey slut! Get your ass over here," Bakugou demanded, rolling his eyes. I looked at him, feeling so out of it. I felt so good right now yet so bad at the same time. My eyes were only focusing on Bakugou. I feel like I'm floating…

"You should probably listen to him," Kirishima said, giving me a smile.

I started to stand up, taking Kirishima's advice. If Kirishima thinks I should listen to Bakugou then I probably should. "Hey!" Bakugou yelled.

I looked at him confused. Why was he yelling at me right now!? I didn't even do anything!

"Get on all fours and crawl over to me like the bitch you are," he finished, pushing his ashy blonde hair back. He sounded stern. It really made me interested in that asshole's personality. Was he born a dickhead or made into one?

I looked around at everyone. Sero lit back up his joint, sitting on the couch with Shinso, Denki, and Shoto. Izuku and Kirishima were making sure I was feeling fine, standing close to me.

"Okay…" I agreed, getting on all fours. My knees and hands dragged their way over to Bakugou. I was so dizzy, I wanted him so bad… Wait… No I do want him. I can't even say I don't want to do this because I do. I want him to fuck me.

I could hear Sero laughing. I don't care, I may look like a pathetic slut but I need this.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned around, slowly. I sat up, seeing Denki recording me as I crawled over to Bakugou. His phone was keeping close to my wet panties. I was kind of embarrassed that he was recording but I think it will be fine… He wouldn't release the footage, right?

"C'mon babe, go on," Denki said, grabbing my face and turning it over to Bakugou. He gave my ass a firm slap, the pain felt so good.

I continued to crawl. My boobs bounced slightly as I crawled. I couldn't care less, though I know Denki is loving every second. I could see a tent being built up under his robe. I shook my head, getting back to my main focus, Bakugou. I reached Shoto's bed, kneeling down. Bakugou looked at me, grabbing my chin so that I could face him. I could barely keep my eyes open, I needed him, badly.

"Touch me now…" I mumbled. It was embarrassing to tell this sexy asshole that I wanted him. He's offering so I might as well.

"I don't think I will. I hate sluts like you," he said, venom in his voice.

I couldn't even argue with him. I was feeling too horny to care whether he was going to please me or not. Why the hell would he make me crawl over to his ass if he wasn't going to please me. I'm starting to get irritated, but oh well… I could always please myself.

My hand went to my clothed slit. I'm in a room full of men touching myself… I would've never expected this to happen when I came to this party. I needed to relieve myself, I'd feel shameful if I wasn't high. But I'm high as hell and I need this. No one is helping me… I can't stop myself. My core was burning… Nothing else matters but this.

"Aw, poor bunny. Come here, I'll show you some love," Sero said, patting his lap. I looked over at him, ready to crawl over to him. I'm so desperate… I don't care who it is. I felt like crying… I really needed someone to touch me.

Denki moved the camera to my face, zooming out to look at my body.

"So sexy…" he commented. I felt flustered by his comment, I grabbed onto the end of his robe, desperately. He was the closest person near me. I bent down tugging his clothing. I looked into his golden eyes, giving him a whiny look. I wanted him to get the signal that I needed him. The camera shined in my face, he smirked.

He reached down to my level, grabbing my face, he placed his soft lips on mine. The camera recorded us two. I liked it, I liked seeing myself kissing Denki in the camera. He grabbed my boob, making me moan a bit. He squeezed it, teasing my nipple.

"Denki… touch me…" I moaned, feeling my thighs rub together.

"I think Mr Grumpy Pants actually has something to say," Denki giggled, wagging his finger over for me to look at Bakugou. I looked over at Bakugou confused, he was glaring at Denki. Why was he glaring? I thought he didn't want anything to do with me?

"Tch," Bakugou scoffed. He grabbed the back of my neck, giving it a firm squeeze. I squeaked as he led me over to Shoto's bed. "Listen here you little cock tease, I'm not going to ever kiss you or even make you feel good but you're going to get on your knees and suck my cock like the whore you are,"

"Yes sir…"

Why the hell did I say yes… He's so goddamn mean! But holy fuck I do want to suck his cock right now. It won't make my painful pleasure go away, though I could try.

Bakugou let out a small chuckle, sitting at the edge of Shoto's bed. I bent down, on my knees, ready to do whatever he wanted me to. I was caught up in the moment. The lust running through my body made me feel no shame.

Bakugou pulled up his black robe, revealing black boxers. He was hard, I could see his cock throbbing through the boxers.

"It's too big…" I mumbled, my eyes fluttering. I wasn't lying I guess… I just wanted to feed his ego though.

"You're going to be a good little slut and take it," he said, in a serious tone.

When he said that I could feel myself getting more turned on, I don't even know how this is possible…

Someone tapped on my back. I turned around to see Izuku. He gave me a sinister smirk… There was something wrong with his pure eyes from earlier… They were filled with pure lust. It gave me the chills.

"Don't be mean Kacchan. She deserves something too," Izuku said, tracing his hands on my curves. I felt so alive, my senses were reacting so differently due to my high.

"Do whatever the hell you want, Deku. All I care about is cumming deep in her throat,"

Izuku smiled, grabbing my butt. I let out a whimper, his hands were rough. I could see some scarring on them but I wasn't going to ask how he got them.

"Stand up for a second," Izuku ordered, he wasn't messing around. His tone made my knees feel weak. His innocent act has finally stopped, he is truly himself right now… And I'm loving every second of it.

I listened to him, standing up. Izuku grabbed my neck, pulling me in to kiss him. I had no chance to even react as his tongue slipped in my mouth. He kissed me, sloppily, grabbing my ass with his hands. I let him. His tongue felt every inch of my mouth, biting my lip as he broke our kiss.

"Good girl," he praised.

I blushed at his comment. He gave me a quick wink before laying onto the floor by Shoto's bed. I looked at him confused.

"Come here," he ordered. I did as I was told, bending down to look at Izuku more thoroughly. The freckles on his face were so cute. "Sit on my face," he said, nonchalantly.

Hearing those words made me want to shout in happiness, finally… I could stop this heat. I wanted to just kiss him then and there, instead I did as I was told, sitting down near his face. My clothed cunt hovered over him slightly.

"Hey, pay attention to me too whore," Bakugou said, catching my full attention. He reached inside his boxers, pulling out his cock. He was hard so it stood upwards. It was nice and long, I can tell he was really turned on due to how pink his tip was. His dick was a bit above average.

I could almost feel myself drooling. Before I could place my hands on his cock, Izuku wanted some attention. His tongue rubbed against my clothed clit, making me jolt in pleasure. He was the only thing I cared about right now. He began to suck on my good spot, causing me to whimper, I wanted to remove my panties to feel even more but Bakugou grabbed a fist full of my hair.

"I said pay attention to me too," he boldly stated, lining up his cock with my mouth. "Open your mouth," he ordered.

I opened my mouth, sticking out my tongue.

He looked at me, kind of shocked. His shock didn't last for long as he furrowed his eyebrows, glaring down at me. "Tch. You're such a disgusting whore," he said, slapping his pink tip on my tongue.

Without hesitation he pushed my head down to take his length in my mouth. I could feel tears brim at the ends of my eyes. I gagged, coughing as he took it out.

"Go on, I'm not fucking doing everything myself," he said, bluntly.

I nodded, taking his tip in my mouth. I sucked on it, going down more and more. He let out a few grunts. His grunts made me feel butterflies. He may be a rude boy but holy shit his grunts are to die for. I'd definitely do this again just to hear him at least whimper.

"You're doing so well Y/n, maybe I should remove these panties hm? I really want to taste you," Izuku hummed, toying with the brims of my underwear.

"Y-yes Izuku… Please…" I mumbled, bringing my hand to Bakugou's cock and grabbing it. I rubbed up and down his cock as I spoke to Izuku.

"Speak up, slut," Bakugou ordered.

"Please take them off Izuku, I'm begging you," I said, my voice cracking. I wanted it to be taken off so bad.

I looked down to see Izuku smirking to himself. He slid underneath me, leaving me with no one under me. Without a care in the world, my hand found its way under my panties, rubbing my own clit, softly, to ease the heat, I couldn't take it any longer. I could see Bakugou smiling, looking away, hoping I didn't catch his smile.

"Shoto, mind lending me a hand?" Izuku asked.

I didn't hear a word from Shoto, I continued to use my mouth and hand on Bakugou to please him, but I needed the pleasure! Not him!

"Do you mind if I touch you Y/n?" Shoto asked, politely.

I stopped sucking on Bakugou's cock to look at Shoto. I nodded my head. "Shoto please touch me," I said, quietly.

He smiled at me, grabbing both of my cheeks to pull into a kiss. His kiss was passionate and warm. It made my heart flutter. This was nothing like the other kisses, his was genuine.

"I'll make you feel good, I promise,"

I could feel someone moving my legs slightly. I looked down to see some familiar green hair.

"Don't mind me," he smiled, moving my panties to the side. It had gotten me so excited, my heart was racing, I wanted him to satisfy me.

"Holy shit this is gonna get good," Denki commented, bringing his phone up to the four of us. He stood to the side, making sure to get a good view of me and these men. I wasn't going to protest against him recording, I was too in the moment.

I continued to suck on Bakugou's cock, letting my tongue go on the side, earning more grunts from him. I could tell he liked what I was doing.

"Y/n~" Izuku called out. I could feel his hot breath inch closer to my now exposed slit. Within the blink of an eye Izuku's tongue pressed itself against my clit, sucking it, softly.

I couldn't help but moan. "Izuku- It-It's so good, please don't stop," I moaned, bucking my hips to match the rhythm of Izuku's tongue. He knows how to please a woman… I've never felt this before. His tongue knew what to do. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, holding me down, stopping me from squirming.

"Bitch, keep on sucking, you aren't fucking finished," Bakugou said, panting, lightly. I could tell he was either getting close or was very horny. All I could do was smile in ecstasy. I rubbed the tip of his cock, making him tense up. My tongue glided up and down his shaft as my hand continuously rubbed his tip. "Fuck…" he groaned, quietly.

Izuku's tongue kept gliding over my clit, it felt so good. Just when I thought it couldn't get better I could feel someone's hand grabbing my ass. I let out a moan, the hand reached further down, making me get butterflies.

"Ah~ W-wait-" I moaned, feeling a finger inserted inside me. This was heaven. This is exactly what I needed.

"Don't worry y/n, my slender fingers will take care of you," Shoto commented.

His finger squirmed around in my gummy walls, I couldn't help but tighten around it. It felt too good. Another finger was added by surprise. I let out another lewd moan. This was all feeling too good. Shoto pumped his fingers in and out of me, going slowly. It felt even better when Izuku started to suck on my clit, causing me to arch my back.

"Holy shit guys, you need to come and take a better look at this… It's so… It's so hot up close," Denki said, his breath hitching. His camera was brought down to Izuku and Shoto, showing everything they were doing to me.

Shoto's fingers curved inwards, making me whimper in pleasure. Tears were forming in my eyes, I needed to release soon… It's so unbearable. His fingers felt so amazing. They kept curving, I tightened with each curve. He was getting real close to my g-spot. If he kept this up at this rate, I'll probably be cumming soon.

I needed to focus my attention on Bakugou now. His pants were getting more noticeable.

"Is Mr Grumpy Pants going to cum?" I asked, teasingly.

Bakugou panted, annoyed of me. He grabbed my head, pushing it down. I probably shouldn't have teased him… He bobbed my head up and down. The pace kept picking up. I couldn't even breathe at this point, I tried to through my nostrils but it was so hard to. He let go of my head, I stopped sucking his dick, gasping for air.

"That'll teach you whore. Now hurry this shit up. I'm close," Bakugou said, laying his back down on Shoto's bed.

"O-okay…" I muttered.

Shoto… He's hitting my spot! I…!

"Shoto! More! Just like that please!" I squirmed, rubbing Bakugou's cock faster.

With that being said, Shoto's pace quickened with his fingers, curling them in the right spots. Izuku's tongue helped try to reach my climax, he used his thumb to help alongside his tongue.

"Izuku- Ah~ M-more!"

It was all feeling too good. This is what I wanted… it's what I needed! My knot in my stomach was building up and I couldn't stop myself from releasing it.

Bakugou propped himself up on his elbows, looking at my face.

"Do-Don't stop!" I yelled, using my hand to grab on to Izuku's fluffy green hair. At this point I had to stop focusing on Bakugou's pleasure and start focusing on my climax. I could feel Izuku smile, going faster. I felt so… So fucking amazing. "I'm goin- I'm cumming!"

After I said that, the knot in my stomach was released, I felt so alive… Stars were everywhere. I felt lightheaded and dazed. I shuddered, taking some deep breaths. As I was taking the deep breaths, I could feel warm liquid hit my face. I opened my eyes to see Bakugou looking at me. His face looked relaxed, his cocked bounced up as more cum went on to my face.

He sat up, putting his dick back in his boxers. He grabbed my face, admiring his work. He grabbed out his phone, snapping a photo of me covered in his cum. "Stupid girl," he mumbled, getting off Shoto's bed. Bakugou stretched a little bit before walking over to Shoto's door. "I'll be doing some shots downstairs, call me if you need me," he mumbled, taking his leave. He seemed more calm yet still grumpy. I wonder what his thoughts were at that moment.

Shoto's fingers slid out of me and Izuku got out from under me. Izuku's face was covered in sweat and my juices.

"You were tasty," he said, giggling.

Shoto looked at me and his hand. "Want to try some Izuku?" he asked.

Izuku nodded, licking up Shoto's fingers which had my cum on them. I was still panting from my climax but just seeing that gesture made me feel horny all over again.

"You guys I swear, she tastes so good," Izuku said, using his robe to wipe off the juices that were on his chin.

Ding!

Izuku looked at his phone. He rolled his eyes. "Gotta run, my girlfriend needs me," he said, getting up.

GIRLFRIEND?! WAIT! WAIT! WHAT?! My eyes widened, my heart started to swell out of guilt. I'm… I'm a homewrecker…?

Izuku snickered, looking at my face. "I'm just fucking with you, we are on and off," he laughed. "Now, you guys have fun, alright? Maybe I'll be back for some more," he winked. Izuku put back on his shy act, mocking me with it. "S-see you later Y/n! Y… You were so hot!"

I just stared at him in disbelief as he walked away. He is… He is something else.

"I'm pretty sure I just came without even touching myself," Denki commented, breaking me out of my trance. He put his phone away. He kneeled down to my level, placing his hand on my cheek to wipe off Bakugou's cum. He gave me a smile, pecking a kiss on my lips. "You were so good babe! Now, Now… Are you going to be a good girl for us?" he asked, turning my head over to Shinso, Kirishima, and Sero.

The three of them stared at me in a daze, they looked intoxicated by me. Why not finish what I started with the men in this room?

Quickly, I nodded my head yes. I had no idea what I was getting into.

"I'm going to need someone to record this shit," Sero said, putting his joint out on his ash tray. He grabbed out his phone, looking for a place to put his phone. He set it down on a nearby chair.

"I can record, don't worry," Shoto said, calmly. He picked up Sero's phone, ready to record the scene that was bound to happen.

I walked over to the couch the other boys were on, sitting down. I was waiting for them to tell me what to do. The heat in between my legs wasn't fully gone but it was less intense than before.

"Y/n why don't we do a little role-play?" Denki asked, grabbing his mask. He put on his mask, giggling, taking a seat next to me.

"Are we seriously making a porno right now? I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable," Kirishima said, crossing his arms.

"I-I'm not uncomfortable or anything I swear! I just want to finish what I started," I said, looking down at my hands. I'm quite embarrassed but it's my fault for being all lewd in the first place, I should just continue on with this. It'll be fun anyway, this is a once in a lifetime thing. "I'll do whatever you want Denki,"

I could hear Denki getting excited. "Shoto! Bring the camera over here!" Denki ordered. Shoto nodded him head, bringing the camera up close to Denki and I. "Get on your knees,"

I did as I was told, getting on my knees on the couch. Denki sat down in front of me, grabbing my chin. Kirishima, Sero, and Shinso just sat on the same couch admiring my looks as I was on my knees.

"3…2…1… Action," Shoto said, nonchalantly.

"I don't know whether I want to fuck your throat or slit it open…" Denki said, his thumb rubbing over my lips.

My heart race quickened. I never tried kinky stuff like role-play before. I guess tonight will have to be a first for everything.

"Pfft! Haha… So fucking cringey," Shinso laughed, rubbing his eyes. His eye bags felt as if they were darker than before. Maybe I was still high? I did burn off a lot of my high with my last orgasm.

"Hey! You're ruining the video!" Denki whined, taking off his mask to show his frustration.

Shoto paused the video, waiting for their feud to settle.

"I'll show her what some real role-play looks like, c'mere," Shinso said, patting down his lap. "Come, sit down,"

I blushed at what he was saying.

"This is so unfair!" Denki protested, crossing his arms.

"I guess you'll have to wait your turn," I said, boldly. I felt more confident now that I was starting to get comfortable with these guys.

Denki liked the sound of that.

I made my way to Shinso, sitting on his lap like he told me to. Shinso put on his mask, nodding his head over to Shoto. That was Shoto's signal to start recording.

"Are you gonna hump my cock like the little bunny you are?" he asked.

My face was heating up at this… He was being so lewd, it didn't help that his face was under a mask so I couldn't see him saying it with his mouth. I could feel his hard dick against my panties. It made me feel turned on knowing he was already hard.

Shinso shook his head, grabbing my hips, grinding me against his boner. It snapped me out of my thoughts, my attention was fully on my pleasure now.

I whimpered at the friction. It felt nice being on top of his lap. I wish I could grab onto his purple locks as I did this.

"Take off your panties. Animals don't wear clothes. Go on, take them off," he said.

"Okay," I responded, getting off of him. I slowly took off my panties, making sure that Shinso was watching me. Little did I know everyone in the room was watching me, lustfully, waiting for their chance to pounce on me like a wild animal. I was only thinking of Shinso right now.

Shinso lifted up his black robe, showing some dark purple boxers. I sat down on his lap once again, no panties on. The only thing I had on I guess was the bunny ears.

Shoto made sure to record us, closely, zooming in on my exposed pussy and Shinso's boxers.

"Are you ready to rub against me like a bunny in heat?" Shinso asked, laying back, lazily.

I nodded my head, feeling butterflies. I could tell I was already wet, Shinso's voice was so sexy….

Shinso took out his cock. It was a little longer than Bakugou's. His carpet matched the drapes, his robe lifted up higher, showing some abs. It made me almost drool at the sight. I wish I could see his whole body.

"Here's what you're going to do, you're going to grind your clit against my dick until I cum, got it?" Shinso explained.

"I- Okay," I agreed. I've never did this with a guy before… I hope I don't mess this up… I placed my hands on his knees, leaning my body backwards and my pussy forward towards Shinso's cock. My legs were straddling his thighs.

He grabbed his dick, helping me line it up with my folds. I could see him oozing with precum. I took a deep breath, rubbing my clit on the tip of his cock. I felt so euphoric.

I kept trying to grind myself on him, it's my first time doing this! I'm not going to be a pro at it. I could hear little pants coming from Shinso as I continued grinding myself on his tip. His pants made me feel better, at least I knew that I wasn't doing too bad.

I whimpered, wanting to go faster but I didn't really know how to. I furrowed my eyebrows, I wanted to whine. I felt like this wasn't enough.

"Let me help you," he panted, pushing my hips down to stop the movement.

I looked at him confused. Was I doing bad at this? I started to feel a bit down knowing I wasn't probably doing it correctly.

"… Am I doing something wrong?" I asked, softly.

"What? No! I just see you're struggling a bit so I wanted to help you out," Shinso said, shaking his head.

I sighed in relief. That confirmed that I wasn't doing anything wrong. I don't like being selfish in bed, I want my partner to feel just as good as me.

"Move guys," he ordered, waving to the side. I'm assuming he was talking about Sero, Kirishima, and Denki.

They all listened moving. Shinso grabbed my body, laying me down on the couch.

"What are you doing?" I asked, covering my eyes. I felt too embarrassed being so exposed while lying down.

"I'll be taking some charge, okay little bunny?" He said, pushing my legs up to my chest.

I squirmed a little, I was so flustered, I felt too exposed.

Shinso took the head of his cock, rubbing it in between my folds.

This felt so much better, it was perfect. The way his tip glided over my clit felt amazing. I moaned, silently.

The boys stood over us, watching everything that was going down. Shoto made sure to get an angle that saw everything.

He tapped his tip against my clit, causing little shocks of pleasure.

"A-ah~" I moaned. This felt so different to what I was used to, I liked it.

"You like that?" He asked. He sounded genuinely confused. I bit my lip, nodding. I didn't want him to stop.

"Don't stop…" I mumbled.

I could hear him let out a chuckle. "Whatever you want, bunny,"

He took his cock, rubbing it with a faster pace against my folds, hitting my clit over and over.

"So good~" I moaned, feeling my legs tremble.

He continued rubbing himself on me, making me feel amazing each time he went up and down.

"This is so hot…" Kirishima said, quietly.

I looked at his eyes, he was in a trance, looking at what was going on. It made me feel flattered. His shark-like teeth were showing as his mouth hung agape.

"Kirishima…" I moaned.

He turned to look at me, his face a bright red hue. "Y-yeah?" he asked. His voice cracked, letting me know that he was either anticipating for me or because he's shy. He does seem more of the shy type, he is very respectful.

"Touch me," I said, groping my own boobs. I arched my back, feeling Shinso's cock move faster against my folds.

Kirishima covered his eyes, embarrassed. He took a deep breath, placing his hand on my boob, squeezing it, softly. I let out a mewl, his hands were so big yet not as rough as the other boys. He continued groping me, not looking at my face. He was too embarrassed.

"Sh-Shit! I'm gonna cum!" Shinso exclaimed, panting harshly. His cock went faster against my folds, twitching. He then started cumming all over my stomach.

I propped myself up on my elbows, admiring the cum that was dripping from the tip of his cock.

"Sorry… You were just too hot, I couldn't stop," Shinso said, sitting on the couch, he took off his mask. His face was all sweaty, a pink hue on his cheeks. I sat up as well. Shoto paused the video, his breath hitching. I can see that he was turned on by the sight of us.

"It's no problem," I said, reassuring him. I actually like it when boys cum fast, it makes me feel good about myself.

"Don't worry about this Shinso, you were just making her wet for us to finish off," Sero said, stretching his arms.

"This is going to get real messy," Denki added, licking his lips. His gaze was kept on my lips.

Shit… I totally forgot I had three more guys to satisfy. My stamina was already running low. All of this pent up energy was making me tired.

"Go ahead, I'm just going to take a nap here," Shinso said, yawning. He laid his head on the couch's arm. I guess his stamina had run out.

"Let's take her over there to the bed, she was being a good girl," Sero said, grabbing me off the couch. He slung me over his shoulder. His strength surprised me, it made me more interested in him. He placed me on the bed, not too harsh yet not too soft.

"You're going to want to record everything~" Denki said, talking to Shoto. Shoto just gave him a nod.

"Wait guys," Kirishima started. He sat on the bed with me, giving me a serious look. "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to feel like you're obligated to," he continued. I could tell that consent meant a lot to him, it made my heart flutter.

"I'm sure," I replied, nodding my head.

He looked at me unsure, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I promise that I'm sure, I'll show you," I said, my hand trailed up his thigh. I teased him, inching closer to the tent that was building up in his robe.

"That's your cue to start recording," Denki winked, joining Kirishima and I on the bed. Shoto brought the camera to us, making sure to record. His hands knew what they were doing, having me doubt if this was his first time recording anything.

Denki grabbed my face, placing his lips on mine. He kissed me passionately. His tongue slipped into my mouth, exploring every inch. He was a pretty damn good kisser, his hand hitched up my waist, grabbing my boob.

I let out a moan. From the corner of my eye I can see Sero making his way over to me, he put on his mask. Sero sat behind me, grabbing my boobs, pinching my nipples. I arched my back. It hurt but felt so good.

"You're going to be a good little slut for me?" Sero asked, his raspy voice standing out to me.

I nodded my head, fast. Sero was a very attractive guy, under the mask he had a cute nose ring on. I wish I could look at him as he pleased me, I hate these stupid fucking masks.

Within a blink of an eye Sero pushed my face into the sheets on the bed. My back was arched as my ass was in the air. His hand was holding my hair, making sure my face was down.

"I'm going to be the lucky one who gets to fuck you. Make sure you please the other guys too, I can't be too selfish," Sero stated, shrugging his shoulder.

"H-how do I do that?" I asked, turning my head so I can speak properly instead of making muffled noises in the sheets.

I could feel Sero rolling his eyes at me. "You're going to suck them off, stupid girl," he said.

How am I supposed to do that?! My face is in the sheets! "Uh… my face is kind of in the sheets right now…"

"Stop being a smart ass," Sero said, bluntly, taking his hand off of my head. He gave my ass a firm slap, annoyed by my comment.

I lifted my head up, wincing.

"You're going to keep you back arched," Sero ordered.

So needy… Ugh whatever, I looked at Kirishima and Denki. They sat down in front of me, pillows supporting their backs to sit up. Denki happily pulled out his dick for me. Kirishima still looked at me unsure. He just sighed, taking out his cock from his boxers as well.

Holy shit… Kirishima's dick was huge! It was huge in length and his girth was a perfect amount… I want this boy to be the one to fuck me! I looked at Denki's cock, his was big but not as big as Kirishima's I still like it though. He had a black little strip down there to match with his hair, I wondered if it's dyed or not.

"Go on babe, touch me," Denki said, placing his hands behind his head. His voice snapped me out of my thoughts about his hair.

I nodded, grabbing his cock, rubbing up and down. He was twitching at my touch. He let out a laugh, hitching his breath. I didn't leave Kirishima out though, I used my other hand to rub his tip and then go down to his shaft. He let out a whimper. His whimper made my stomach flutter.

"Don't forget about me," Sero said, grabbing onto my ass. I could feel his tip teasing my entrance.

"H-hurry up!" I urged. He kept teasing me, not putting his cock in. I felt my heart skip beats, anticipating to be filled up with his cum.

"Do you think… you could… Suck on it…?" Kirishima asked, seemingly ashamed for asking such a lewd question.

Without hesitation I placed my lips around his dick. My tongue swirled around his tip, earning a moan from him. I continued rubbing Denki with my other hand though, so he didn't feel left out.

Fuck! Oh my god…! Sero had slid himself inside me without warning. My walls clenched around him. He was so big!

"S-Sero!" I yelled, trying my best to keep my back arched.

Sero bucked his hips, going slow and deep. He knew exactly where to hit my good spots.

"Focus on us too!" Denki said, twitching in my hand. He liked seeing me get fucked by someone else. I tried my best to move both of my hands to please Kirishima and Denki but Sero's cock kept going deeper.

"You like that?" Sero asked, grabbing my hair. He pulled on it tightly. My walls clenched around his dick as he tugged on my hair.

"Y-yes!"

I kept trying my best to focus on Denki and Kirishima, rubbing their cocks up and down. I licked on them occasionally, making their dicks wet and sloppy so it's easier to use my hands on them.

"Wow y/n… this feels so good," Kirishima praised, letting out a whine.

"He's not wrong, keep this up and I'll be cumming soon," Denki said, with a smile on his face.

Kirishima's tip was throbbing, I could tell that he was getting close, his dick was probably more sensitive than the others.

I took my hand, my thumb grazing his tip as my hand went up and down his shaft. I could tell that sent him over the edge.

"N…No. Stop I'm gonna cum," he said, shutting his eyes.

I smirked, taking his tip in my mouth, sucking on it. I rubbed up and down as I sucked, feeling his balls start to tighten.

"Ah~ Stop! No, I'm cumming!" he announced, bucking his hips into my mouth. I could feel him warm cum shooting into my mouth. I tried my best to swallow every last bit. I continued sucking as he panted for air.

I turned to look at Denki, his eyes were widened when he stared at me taking Kirishima's cock. Without warning cum shot up on my cheek. It looks like seeing the way I took on his friend made him cum right then and there.

"Shit. I didn't even mean to do that…" Denki said, pushing his hair back. There was a little sweat on his forehead, he must've been very concentrated.

I could hear Sero laughing. "Good job, now I can have you all to myself. You boys are going to want to move," he warned Kirishima and Denki. The two boys got off of the bed, walking to wherever they pleased.

I was in for it, Sero grabbed my cheeks, pinching them. Shoto moved the camera to my face. "Smile for the camera, don't be rude," he added, forcing my face to make a smile with his hands as he pounded me from behind.

I tried my best to smile, I probably looked pathetic.

Sero stopped grabbing on to my face, instead he put his hands on my hips, bucking them on to his cock. It all felt too good, the knot in my stomach was so close to being undone. Every time he pounded me, I felt like I was seeing stars.

Sero continued going hard and slow. He picked up the pace though, signifying that he was almost ready to cum. Each time he slid into me I could feel my ecstasy being brought closer and closer to me.

He continued to fuck me, I moaned each time. I was getting close. I wanted to feel his hot cum inside me, I needed it to run down my thighs. I was already feeling so drunk off of this messy and sloppy sex. The thought of his cum made me tighten around Sero.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight right now. Are you gonna cum?" he asked, using one hand to rub my clit and the other to keep himself pounding into me.

The knot was being undone! I couldn't hold it in any longer. He just felt so good. He was rubbing me in all the right ways, there's no way I can stop now!

"Y-yes! Sero! I'm cumming~" I moaned, gripping on to the bed sheets.

He pounded harder and faster, gripping on my hair, grabbing right where my scalp is.

"I'm cumming!" he yelled, going faster.

I was seeing stars, I couldn't stop panting. I was twitching at this point. To top it off, I could feel warm liquid shooting inside of me. The warmth made me want to collapse onto the bed… It all felt too good. Sero pulled himself out of me, laying down next to me.

Shoto stopped recording, looking in his boxers. His face was red. He definitely came into his boxers. I let out a laugh, feeling the high of the sex I just had.

"That… was amazing, thank you guys…" I said, feeling myself drift to sleep. I couldn't keep my eyes open, my stamina was so low…

"Such a good girl,"

"Gonna do this again,"

Wait… Holy shit. I seriously just fucked multiple guys on camera. What the hell is wrong with me?

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unholyverse · 5 months ago

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MYSPACE 1.0 THEME REFRESH (originally by conkersradfurday, refreshed by unholyverse)

live previews: 1, 2 / download (pastebin)

hi! i've been using this old theme for years now because other myspace themes don't hit the same, but i've been tweaking a lot of it for personal use. i think it's been long enough since this theme has been abandoned that i can upload something that can handle itself better on modern tumblr.

main features

asks are formatted to look like myspace comments. fun!

four custom links

myspace buttons to follow, message, or block the blog owner

a bunch of info spaces so the world can know what you're about

extra font options

functional search bar (but this is tumblr so...semi functional?)

that web 2.0 ugly goodness

other features + info below the cut

new features

friend space - ever wanna show off your friends? now you can with the friend space to show off your top 8 9 friends on your blog. don't have enough friends? no worries, you can always toggle it off

image space - wanna put a bunch of blinkies somewhere? you'll need to have a bit of html and css knowledge for it, but you can go into the code and add as many images as you'd like. just look for the section and start pasting those images. it's a little tedious but tbh that's just the authentic myspace experience isn't it? but if that's not your thing, you can also toggle it off too.

tweaked/deleted features

had to delete the music player :( sorry but it used flash and i'm not really sure how to make a music player in javascript yet

added username input because it was annoying me that your title could be your name and it didn't make sense in most cases

deleted infinite scroll because the script was super outdated

added the ability to change the "online now!" gif. the original gif will always be in the defaults of the code.

changed the text post header font to verdana because it was impact and you could not fucking read that and it wasn't accurate to a myspace bulletin anyways

deleted the feature that force showed all the pages you made on your blog. so annoying. it will look a little weird if you have asks/submissions deactivated, but i doubt many of you using the theme will have them closed anyways

changed the dead links to redirect to the actual myspace site

extra recommended add-ons

scm music player: a customizable music player with tons of different skins and tons of songs you're able to add

unblue polls by @glenthemes: what it says basically; allows you to customize the colors of tumblr polls on your blog

cursors-4u.com: i love these dinky little cursors they're so fun. great if you really wanna lean into the 2000s aspect of the theme

cursor sparkles: what else is there to say about this they're just fun

notes

i plan on updating the theme semi-regularly if bugs are brought up and stuff (which you can tell me through my inbox)

hopefully i can work on extra tweaks as time goes on (such as figuring out how to add a footer image to videos, toggle tags, etc)

don't repost/claim as your own because it already isn't mine in the first place

like/reblog if you use!

update log

added a tags toggle + tweaked the video post sizes

made the "is in your extended network" status customizable to add different text. feel free to tell the world how many gas station boner pills you took

added an official theme link

#tumblr themes #free themes #myspace theme #myspace #tumblr theme #webcore #2000s web #old web #i.html

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twelve-forfend · 11 months ago

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Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House

(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)

I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.

First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:

Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.

Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.

The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!

But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.

There it is: the writing on the wall.

As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.

On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!

Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠；南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."

The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.

To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:

Sexual Intercourse

Stealing

Murder

Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).

From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.

Phew! That's a lot to unpack.

But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).

These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.

If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.

As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.

And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).

With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.

Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!

My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #i started writing this at 3am #and now it's 8am #what am i doing with my life #who have i become #qing jing peak

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blorbocedes · 3 months ago

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BLONDE TWINK BARES IT ALL! GETS A MASSAGE ;)

williams!era nico gets a massage by dr.dot for RTL in a video that looks like a casting couch bad porn intro. 1/2/2009

below i explain the lengths i went to find this 👇 its v long

so our story starts a few months ago when i began frantically dming my oldest nicologist friend @colors-of-feeling if she remembered this video. I had only half remembered recollections at this point, and i really only remembered the video because it looks so much like a casting couch porn intro. I know I screenshot it but I went through my gallery and couldn't find it. i knew I had seen it a very long time ago and care is one of my first mutuals, so anything nico I've seen she's seen. she doesn't rmbr 😓

now im like holy shit did i make it up. still i plead care to turn her archive public so i can go through it. no luck. i went through my own archive, even though i know I didn't reblog it because it had been a youtube link instead of the video. and i regretted it so bad, because i know that low quality few hundred or thousand views videos from 2000s is basically lost footage because youtubes search is basically incomprehensible. I also went through the archives of other blogs that nico posted back in 2021 for any sign that I didn't just project and Imagine it. no luck.

feeling defeated i go to my final hope, the nicologist of all nicologists @distantlaughter... with only half baked and increasingly hysterical descriptors "umm its like a casting couch video! a boat! but the boat is parked 🤔 maybe the masseuse had pigtails" i rambled, normally like a normal person.

ren the absolute darling immediately pops up with a video of shirtless nico get massaged. its not.

and another one. not that either 😓 we underestimated just how much nico posted getting a shirtless massage.

finally. FINALLY. ren dms me like 10 seconds of this video hidden in a nico rosberg compilation fan video that is even in worse quality. but it's this video!!!!!! it EXISTS!!! im not crazy....... but that 3 pixel collage was proof that it was real, but alas not post worthy. There was an RTL logo in the corner so in one final futile search, we searched RTL archives which unfortunately did not go far enough. We were doing literal detective work like from the 10 seconds of the fanvid we concluded it was like, probably an RTL monaco promo video hence the coastline and the boat, and given nico's hair length it must be williams (or 2010 merc). but nothing further than that. still ren is the absolute goat nicologist who figured it out from just my descriptions alone 🙏🙏🙏

with that I ended my search, knowing it was real at least, even if it wasn't the full video.

today i got a storage full notification. so I started frantically deleting random videos I had on my phone from years. and buried in august 9, 2022 almost exactly TWO years ago . was 5 seconds of this video and the when the screen recording closed you could see it was from a video called Dr. Dot.

this time im posting the video, im also going to ask @argentinagp to gif it so this buried, almost lost footage less than 1k youtube video can get a second life again, and so we can all enjoy weird late 2000s whoring drivers out. ❤️

all of this could be avoided if simply 2 years ago I had reblogged and tagged the original link. archival work is often thankless and pointless but wow, sometimes it can feel so rewarding. so enjoy!

which brings me to the most important part. doesn't he totally look like a twink in a bad porno here?

#casting couch nico is real 🥹#why did they make him take his shirt off and get a massage that's filmed like this #Nico Rosberg #williams era nico #please read through the absolute bothering I do my mutuals when I get brain poisoned to find something #is it ever that serious... no... but yes...

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homunculus-argument · 2 years ago

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I was born and raised American, but with everything that's happened over the past few years I've been considering moving to another country. but I don't know if this is just "the grass is greener". Not sure if this really fits with your blog, but as someone from Europe what's your attitude towards living in the US?

I've visited there a handful of times and most of my thoughts are "damn bitch, y'all really live like this?" People in Finland like to complain about the climate, the taxes, and how stingy the welfare systems are (if you currently rely on them) or how costly they are (if you're currently not relying on them), but honestly most of the time that's because people are used to having it so good, or don't really have a perspective of how bad everyone would be doing without the infrastructure that everything runs on.

Sure, nowhere is perfect, and there's always room for improvement, but honestly the people I've met in the US only really seem to think that their system is good because they've never been anywhere else and don't know any better.

Mostly it's stuff that you'd never think about if you hadn't been to both places, like being able to trust that tap water is drinkable or that you can safely walk/bike to wherever you need to go. The US really doesn't have the kind of ability to just hang out in public places, just walking to the town and sitting on benches. Having public parks and libraries isn't really the same if you can't just walk there, and you genuinely need a car to go anywhere.

I moan and lament a lot about how the winters here are hard to endure - at the darkest time of the year the sun rises at 9 and sets before 5 pm - but I wouldn't move from here just because of that, mainly because of how reliably everything is structured here. Sure, it's all run with funds from relatively high taxes, but that is a self-feeding loop on its own. The tax-paying workforce isn't a disposable resource that's wrung dry once and tossed out when it's broken, but even when you're just another cog in the machine, you're one that's maintained, not replaced if broken.

I had a lot of breakdowns when I was younger, largely due to depression and other mental issues I had due to the undiagnosed ADHD. When I started breaking down at work in my old factory job, they couldn't just fire me on the spot because of the workers' union fought tooth and nail to make sure that you can't throw people out for getting sick, and mental illness is treated no different from other health issues. I was allowed to take two years off work in order to study into a career I thought would fit me better. That didn't turn out well either, but I was still allowed to bounce back and forth between odd jobs, sick leave, and studying - all on government pensions during the spots when I wasn't working a wage - until I found the right diagnosis, the right medications, and the right job.

It's not a hyperbole to say that I owe my life to the ample and studry social welfare systems that Finland has in place. Sure, you're just another brick in the wall, a cog in the machine, but if you keep breaking down, it takes a long time until they completely give up on you if you can somehow make them believe that you're trying, because it's cheaper for the tax system to figure out how to make you fit into the machine than just toss you out. A human being is an expensive investment and if getting you to the right job, education, diagnosis, medication or even arranged housing is what it takes to get your ass back into the workforce, they'll at least try.

I'm perfectly happy to pay the taxes here to fund the system that helped me onto my feet when I was in no condition to function, and to support the people who never do recover, find their place, or be able to support themselves on their own. And I can live with the peace of mind that even if I fall apart again, that safety net is still there. It's brutal, pragmatic, and regards your health and welfare as a means to an end - to get you working and paying taxes again - but they still do prioritise your welfare. Cogs are cheaper to maintain than replace.

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room-surprise · 9 months ago

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Addendum to Dungeon Meshi Age Calculations, and Thistle's age estimate...

This is sort of a sequel to two posts of mine, How to Calculate Comparative Ages of DM Characters and How Old Is Thistle?

I've seen some people claim that the age scale between elves and tall-men where elves age 5 times slower than tall-men can't be used accurately for elves that are very young or very old. I've also seen people claim that the half-foot age modifier is wrong.

I'm not a mathematician, but so far I have not seen any actual evidence that the 5:1 scale doesn't work, and a good amount of proof that it does, and I think the confusion about half-foot aging is a translation issue.

Please keep in mind, information about Marcille's age does not apply to any of this, because [SPOILERS].

WHAT ABOUT VERY YOUNG ELVES?

Here's something we know about the babies from the different races, which comes from Ryoko Kui's blog:

1 year old elven, dwarven and gnomish babies can only lay on their backs. Tall-man and half-foot 1 year olds can both stand, though the tall-man is not as good at it as the half-foot.

This lines up with real-world development milestones, human children can usually stand on their own somewhere between 9 to 12 months. Half-foots age faster than tall-men, so it makes sense that the half-foot would look more balanced and steady while standing.

A 2 year old elven baby has just gained the ability to sit up, while the babies of other races are walking or running. Normal human babies can sit up with help at around 5 months.

2 divided by 5 equals 0.4, that's 40%, and 40% of one year equals 4.8666666 months. That's 5 months.

I think it's very likely Kui herself is using the 5:1 ratio in order to calculate her elven ages in order to get this very specific 5 month developmental milestone to line up this way. So we can confirm that any elf over the age of 2 years old should have an age that is calculable with the 5:1 ratio. I also think it's not crazy to assume Kui may be using the numbers I calculated in my age post to work out other character's ages as well, since she's clearly doing it for the elves.

LET'S TEST IT WITH HALF-FOOTS

Human children learn to run between 18 and 24 months, so around 2 years old, like the chart shows us. 2 years divided by the half-foot age ratio (1.1428571429) equals 175% because they grow faster than tall-men.

175% of 2 years is 1277.5 days... Which is 3.5 years. So a 2 year old half-foot has the maturity of a 3.5 years old human child. 3 years old is when human children are expected to run and jump easily, and climb stairs without help.

That sounds about right to me, since the half-foot child in the drawing looks like they can confidently run around without balance issues. One foot is off the ground, and their arms are pulled in closer to the body than the tall-man child's arms.

Meanwhile the tall-man child is more unsteady, both feet firmly planted, standing with their arms held out as far as they can go to help with balance.

DOESN'T 29=50 FOR HALF-FOOTS?

Kui says that Chilchuck would be about 50 if he were a modern day human (which he isn't, he's a medieval half-foot), and then she says that half-foots in the time of Dungeon Meshi only live to be about 50 years old on average.

I'm pretty sure she's telling us that if Chilchuck were a human in our world, he'd be past middle-aged, and then for contrast, she tells us that most half-foots in Chilchuck's world die by age 50. Not that Chilchuck's 29 years is equivalent to a 50 year old modern human.

Chilchuck is 29 years old, and he had his first child at age 13. The average age of death for half-foots is 50, then that means middle-aged for a half-foot is 25.

Chilchuck is 4 years older than that, which makes Chilchuck past middle-aged. It does not make him developmentally the same as a 50 year old modern human though.

Using the numbers I've worked out, a half-foot would be developmentally 50 years old when they're 44.

Kui says that although Chilchuck wants to retire from going into the dungeons, if he did, it would be premature... Just like it would be premature for a 33 year old to retire.

In the real world retirement ages are connected to the average age of death. As that number goes up, so does retirement age. Because modern humans live until around 72, as a global average, retirement age is somewhere in their 60s.

So since half-foots average lifespan is 50, a normal age for Chilchuck to retire would be in his 40s.

WHAT ABOUT OLD ELVES?

The average age of death for tall-men is 60, however we know that tall-men can live into their 80s because Marcille's father did.

The average age of death for elves is 400, but they can live up to 500 years.

There's no reason to think that DM tall-men aren't like real world humans, and can't live into their 100's if they are lucky and wealthy enough. Even in the real medieval period, some people lived into their early 100's.

The thing that makes average death ages low in real life is usually issues like high infant mortality, starvation, war, lack of medical care, and lack of sanitation.

In the real medieval period, the average age of death was 30 not because people dropped dead at 30, but because SO MANY children died young that it pulled down the average. In medieval times, if you managed to live to 25, you had an average of 23 more years of life ahead of you, which is 48 years old.

I think Kui raised the average death age to 60 for tall-men to account for the fact that even tall-men have access to more advanced medicine and healing magic in DM, so infant mortality isn't as high and the adults live more than a decade longer.

The elves naturally have a longer lifespan since they live 5 times slower than tall-men. However they also probably have a far more advanced society than any of the other races in Dungeon Meshi. Fleki calls the Eastern Continent a "primitive land", and it's mostly populated by dwarves, gnomes and tall-men.

If elven culture was developmentally the same as tall-man culture, I bet elves would only live to about 300, which would be 60 for them, maturity wise.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

80x5 is 400. That seems correct to me, a 400 year old elf would be considered elderly and getting close to the end of their life. An 80 year old tall-man would be considered VERY old, having lived past average expectations... But those expectations, as I said before, are based on poor living conditions, not biological certainty. 100x5 is 500, so the two maximum ages (100 and 500) also line up when you use the 5:1 ratio.

POSSIBLE MAXIMUM AGES FOR OTHER RACES

Using the same math, if gnomes and dwarves had the same culture as tall-men, they'd only live to be 150-ish instead of 240/200...

This is only a theory, but dwarvish and gnomish maximum possible ages should probably be around 250, if you multiply their age modifier (2.5) x100 like I did with the elves.

The current difference between their average age of death is probably attributable to lifestyle and cultural differences (gnomes use a lot more magic, and so they live longer).

Then, just to do the rest of the races:

Half-foots and orcs theoretical maximum age is 88. Ogres theoretical maximum age is 94. Kobold theoretical maximum age is 81.

Keep in mind, these numbers are based on the idea that "around 100 years old" is the oldest a human being can get. The oldest human to ever live survived until they were 122 years old... But obviously that is rare, and happened in the modern era.

Point is, there's wiggle room at the top end of the age limit, for some of the races that may be a matter of extra days or months, for others it could be an extra decade or two. But I'm using 100 for simplicity's sake.

Sorry for the long post! I hope this answers people's questions, and if I messed something up let me know!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #theories #dungeon meshi and aging part 2 #chilchuck #chilchuck tims

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nostalgebraist · 1 year ago

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Frank @nostalgebraist-autoresponder will permanently halt operation at 9 PM PST this Wednesday (May 31, 2023).

For context on why, see this post.

(tl;dr this project been a labor of love for me for years, it takes a ton of continual effort, and my heart's not in it anymore.)

----

The blog itself will stay up indefinitely, it just won't make any new posts or accept asks.

Most of the code, models, etc. are freely available right now. Insofar as they are now, they will continue to be. The change on May 31 is unrelated to this stuff.

I've made various interactive demos of these components over the years, and the demos will likely still work after the bot stops. But I won't do any tech support or maintenance on them, and I would actively recommend against using these as a way to "get Frank back."

----

I want to emphasize the following:

The best way for you to "send Frank off" over the next few weeks is to talk to her just like usual.

(And not too often, because she can only make 250 posts a day.)

This is true for a number of reasons, and can be viewed from a number of different angles:

(1)

While it can be fun to anthropomorphize Frank, she is structured very differently from a person, or even an animal.

She does not remember anything, even between two asks made on the same day. Every moment is a new one, with no relation to any other.

If you say "goodbye" or "you're going to be shut off" to her on May 30 2023, it's just as though you had said the same thing to her on some random day last year. She can't tell the difference.

She doesn't know these things are true or relevant now, and she can't possibly know in the way a human would. She's hearing the words for the first time, every time, and reacting in accordance with that.

Think of it like interacting with a baby, or someone with dementia. Every moment stands alone. If you strike a sad tone, they don't appreciate that it's about something. They just know that there is a sad tone, in the current experiential moment.

(2)

Frank mostly operates on a first-come, first-serve basis. She can only make 250 posts a day. There is a limited amount of time left.

Be conscientious about the way you're using up "slots" in this limited array of remaining Frank posts. Don't hog the ride.

(3)

I'm shutting down this bot in part because it's been a long-term, low-grade source of stress to me. I'd like the last weeks of the bot to be as low-stress as they can be.

When Frank gets an unusually large, or just unusual, form of user input over a period of time, I usually have to step in and do something in response.

(if there's way more input than usual and I don't do anything special, Frank will fill up most of her post limit quota before I even wake up, and then the asks will pile up further and further over the rest of the day.)

Maybe I have to delete a bunch of asks. Maybe I have to deploy some temporary change to her mood parameters to prevent the mood from getting too high or low and not coming back to baseline. Maybe I have to turn on "userlist mode," which still involves a cumbersome manual procedure.

Or, maybe I just have to do a lot more content moderation than usual.

"Usual," here, means reviewing and (mostly) approving something like 20 different hypothetical Frank posts per day, every day. If I go do something fun, and let myself forget about this task completely for 6 or 8 hours, there's a backlog waiting for me afterwards. During busy times, there's even more of this.

Just, like, help me chill out a bit, okay? Thanks.

#nostalgebraist autoresponder #nostalgebraist autoresponder meta

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zepskies · 3 months ago

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What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️

Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓

But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?

For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.

While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.

I'm still here for two very important reasons:

I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.

I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖

Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...

And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:

(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)

That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:

If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)

If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.

If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...

Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.

But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.

Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.

They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.

Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.

Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.

Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.

Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.

For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.

If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).

Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:

(In no particular order)

@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof

@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings

@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords

@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze

@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋

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wardenparker · 11 days ago

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Bones Full of Words, ch 12

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 13k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues, canon typical violence* Fluff, sass, flirting, it's a whole chapter of domestic fucking bliss as displayed by two people very horny for each other. Summary: Booted back to the States after the DEA puts him on notice, Javi runs into an unexpected and familiar face at his cousin's wedding. Notes: Next week will be the epilogue for Javi and his writer, and then we will be on to the next soulmate story! Thank you so much to everyone who came along on this journey with us. It really has been so fantastic. 🧡 As always, I apologize for any errors I might have missed in proofreading.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

There is no sinking, sick feeling like you expected. Only the knowledge that rolling over to dig out and light up a cigarette before talking will be something you share, skin to skin and heart to heart, with your soulmate.

"Alright." When you turn back into his side again you take a drag of the cigarette before handing it over to him. "Where do you want to start?"

Javi takes the cigarette and inhales slowly, eyes slipping closed as the nicotine rush hits him on the first puff. They can claim all they want to about cocaine, it’s not got shit on a cigarette. He holds it for a second before blowing it out. “I meant what I said.” He wants that written in stone, right now. “It’s not a heat of the moment thing, I love you.” He repeats softly, eyes opening and focusing on you.

"I've been in love with you since before I left to come home." You tell him softly, accepting the cigarette when he passes it back and embracing the intimacy of sharing it. "It hit me when I was living with you, actually..."

“When you were kidnapped.” Javi admits, watching as you take a slow drag off the cigarette and savor it just like he did. “I fucking nearly rubbed my - your tattoo raw, checking to make sure it was there.” His hand reaches for your thigh since you are still propped up and he squeezes it. “I didn’t think I needed to pile that onto you when you were so broken.”

"I needed to come home." That is an absolutely certainty. You needed to get away. To heal. And that never would have been possible if you had stayed in Colombia. "But I don't have the nightmares nearly as much anymore and I'm going a lot better. It's—it too a long time. But yes." Passing the cigarette back again, you have the good manners to look a little sheepish. "That's why I was so shitty while Elisa was around. I was jealous."

“Connie chewed my ass when she found out you were my soulmate.” Javi promises you. “I didn’t think that you cared at first. You were so adamant that our being soulmates was not an issue.” It had stung at the time, wounded his pride and hit at his ego. He had always expected his soulmate to swoon at his feet, or shit would be even easier than it was with most women. It was why he had bristled at the fact and inadvertently caused so much pain for both of you. He shrugs apologetically. “I’m an asshole.”

"I just don't think we were in the right place. Either of us." It's something that you've given a lot of thought over the years and you hope that that is abundantly obvious. "We were far too focused on our careers and couldn't see the forest for the trees. We didn't believe in balance." Sighing slightly, your eyes tick up again to find his and you bite your lip out of nerves. "I believe in balance now."

He chuckles quietly. “I don’t know if I have a job.” He reminds you. “But I know that I want you.” It’s something that has been obvious since the moment he saw you talking to Lorraine. You had appeared back in his life and he wasn’t going to waste a second chance. “What do you want?”

"You." This time you aren't hesitating. You aren't waiting and you aren't waffling. There is no path forward that doesn't include Javi now that he's back in your life. "Everything else is negotiable."

The cigarette is passed back to him and he flicks the ashes into the tray in the other side of the bed, twisting away from you for just a moment before he is facing you again. “We are settled on that.” He agrees, smiling softly in relief. “Now we just have to figure out six million little details.”

"Only six million?" You smirk at him and settle back against his chest again. "Piece of cake. Wanna start with the basics?"

“Which are?” He asks with a snort. “I’ve always thought two kids, but if you want more, I guess we can decide on a number.”

"Two is good." That smirk curls your whole mouth, turning your expression into a grin. "I was thinking more like...where are we going to live?"

“Well…shit.” He chuckles and the hand that isn’t stroking the little pooch of your stomach curls behind his head to prop it up. “That’s a good one. You want me to move to Rhode Island?” He asks. “I’m not too fond of the snow, but I’ll do it.”

"I at least want you to come up and meet my family." You bargain, turning your head so you don't blow smoke from your last drag back in his face. "If you get up there and decide winter is more horrifying than you expected, we can pivot and I'll come down here."

“Summer is shit here.” He points out, wanting to be honest. “It’s a million fucking degrees. So hot you don’t even want to fuck.”

"So it's either winter so cold you freeze when you try to fuck naked, or summer so hot you don't want to fuck at all." You snort in amusement. "Maybe we should move to the middle of California or something."

He curls his nose at that suggestion. “No California.” He huffs. “They are too fucking….Californian.” He doesn’t have a good reason to not like it, but he doesn’t. “Murphy said Miami wasn’t bad.”

"Hot and humid." Which sounds even better than hot on its own. "I don't know if there's a perfect solution, baby. We may just have to pick the one that has something we really love about it and deal with the bad parts that go with it."

“Texas is home for me and Rhode Island is home for you.” He muses. “So we just say fuck it and move to someplace we want.” He looks at you seriously. “Are you done writing? Permanently?”

"I'm done with journalism." That doesn't necessarily mean you'll never write again, but it means you won't be trotted out to rehash the most traumatic week of your life every single time anyone wants to talk to you. "Working in a kitchen has been good for keeping me busy, but I don't know if I want to do it forever."

“Why don’t you transition to a different avenue?” He asks seriously. “Your articles are better researched, plotted and presented than most books I’ve read.”

"I used to really like writing short stories." Tilting your head slightly lets you rest against him completely as you sink down under the blanket with him again and you shrug a little in his arms. "I could give it a shot. I can write in between restaurant shifts. It'll be easy enough to get a line cook job whereever we choose."

“If I don’t have a job with the DEA…” he sighs. “I’ve been offered a deputy position but I’m sure I could get on anywhere.” It doesn’t help make a decision, but he rocks you closer to his body. “But I should be able to support you if you wanted to do it full time.”

"Let's see if I can write anything good enough to actually sell." He's soft and warm and so comforting like this that you could just melt. "If you have a job offer here, let's stay here. There's plenty of restaurants in the area that I can work in for now, and your Pops is here."

“You would want to move here?” Javi’s surprised but he hums as he thinks about it. “There’s a little ranch down the road that’s about to go on the market.” He considers. “Owner died and it’s going through probate.”

“Didn’t we say once that Texans and New Englanders aren’t so different?” All of those early conversations with him are burned into your memory. Years later and you haven’t forgotten a single one of them. “I’m sure I’ll adjust in no time. Ranch, little house, whatever you think will work. You know this place far better than I do.”

“I think before we decide anything, I should probably visit your home, right?” He smirks slightly. “It would only be fair.” He wants to see where you grew up, meet your mother. Things that he had never really contemplated ever having to do, but now he is glad that you aren’t someone he’s known his entire life.

“It’s chilly but not snowy yet.” You promise him, smiling reflexively at the idea of bringing Javier home with you for a little bit. “Fall is the best time to see New England.”

He thinks about that for a moment and then nods. “When would be a good time for me to come?” He doesn’t ask if you want him to just come back with you, that might be too much.

“Well…” A soft laugh escapes you and your cheeks burn. “I’m going back on Monday morning. You could always come with me?”

“You would be okay with that?” His brow lifts in surprise. He had expected you to want to talk to your family first.

“I’ll call my mom tomorrow and let her know, but I don’t think she’ll mind.” You reach up to kiss him, reveling in the warmth of it. “She knows about you. My brothers…I didn’t want to talk about it much. But my mother knows.”

He winces slightly, knowing that by all rights, your mother should have a dismay opinion on him. “How bad should I expect it?” He tone is joking, but only slightly.

“She’ll be skeptical for about an hour after I hang up the phone with her, but if I’m happy then she’s happy.”

“If you want me to come with you on Monday, I’ll call the airline.” He promises, knowing that he owes you a lot more than just a potentially awkward first meeting with your mother. “What time is your flight?”

“Eleven in the morning.” Your eyes tick up to his, concern lining the edges of joy. “That’s not too soon? Too dramatic? We were literally just talking about where to live together and how many kids we want.”

“I’ll be on that flight.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Just gotta make sure D.C. knows how to get ahold of me.”

“I’ll write down my phone number for you.” A promise, as silly as it is, that makes the thing seem all the more real. “I’ve been living with my mom again. It’s easier.”

“Would you rather I get a hotel room?” He asks. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you feel a little silly for it but you’re certain when you look back up at him. “I want to have you with me. We’ve wasted enough time apart.”

“You are staying here tonight.” He agrees. “Hopefully your brother won’t be worried about you. You left without saying anything.”

“I should probably call the hotel and leave a message,” you admit. “Michael is protective.”

Javi nods. “Do you want to go get your stuff?” He asks. “Or would you rather me stay at your hotel?”

“We can go get my stuff in the morning.” Right now all you care about is snuggling into his side. “I’ll call tonight but I just want to stay here with you.”

“You looked beautiful.” He murmurs softly. “Today. Everyday really, but you looked really beautiful today.”

“Not every day.” The tendency to deflect compliments is long ingrained, but from him they make your cheeks burn.

“Every day.” He repeats, not letting you even doubt that for a second. “You don’t see it? You have this…softness. Even when you have to be strong. A grace and kindness that is bone deep.”

“Softness has always been my issue,” you gripe, though you wave it away. “I’m just glad the diet is working. But…it’s very sweet of you.” Fucking hell you’re bad at taking compliments. “I always admired your resolve, honestly. And attention to detail. Even when it frustrated me it was still impressive.” That grin returns to your lips full force. “The broad shoulders and cut jaw line don’t hurt either.”

There’s a few inches of skin on your side that Javi pinches gently in his hand as he frowns at you playfully. “I love this softness.” He growls, leaning in and biting the bottom of your lip.

“I’m glad.” You laugh softly, never doubting that he means it. Not after everything. “Because two kids will mean plenty of softness.”

“That’s if you want to do that.” Javi says seriously. “If you don’t, I’ll understand.”

“Three always felt like my mom was chasing us.” You hate it but you have to sit up again. Calling Michael’s hotel before you sleep is nonnegotiable. “But being an only child sounds lovely. Two is good.”

“Compromise, is that what it sounds like?” Javi snorts. “You are the one that says how many kids you have.”

“Can I ask you something else?” It seems like the time, considering how honest and open you’re being with each other. And considering what you’ve already talked about tonight.

“You can ask me anything.” He promises, looking up at you. The cigarette is long since smoked, crushed out in the ashtray, but the intimacy and lingering closeness still hovers in the air.

“I just wondered.” It feels silly, but considering where you were today maybe it isn’t. “If you ever wanted to get married? Or if Lorraine spoiled that for you.”

He sighs softly, looking up at the ceiling while he thinks about what he wants to say. “I figured one day it would happen.” He admits. “I knew I should have been happy to marry her, back when I thought she was the one. But something never felt right and I twisted that into believing it wasn’t for me, but I thought I would eventually find someone.” He looks back at you and licks his lips. “But I’d marry you.” He nods.

“I’m not talking about a wedding.” Clarification seems important in this moment, even when the gentle affection in his expression is so real. “A marriage is a life together. A wedding? They’re nice but I don’t think they’re necessary.”

“You wouldn’t want something like today?” He asks curiously. “Family and friends?”

“Not if you wouldn’t enjoy it.” That is what matters to you most. A wedding is a great party but only if the couple both enjoy it when it happens. Otherwise it’s just parading around for a day in clothes you’ll only wear once. “I guess what I mean is that I never envisioned a big white wedding for myself so I wouldn’t be disappointed not to have it. What I care about is having a partner to spend my life with.”

“I don’t mind a wedding.” He has thought about that quite a bit, especially after one particularly vivid dream of you in a white dress. It had haunted him for weeks after having it and it was the closest he came to calling you after you left.

“That’s the road to getting my mother to love you.” It’s both the truth and a bit of teasing, and you don’t mind that. Not really. Not when you know that these conversations — this compromise — is a big and new step for the two of you. The two of you. As a couple. “You brought up kids first and you’re the one who wants a wedding. You’ll be her favorite son instantly.”

He snorts. “I’ll make sure that I bring that up.” He jokes, even though he will follow your lead on interacting with your mom. “Pop will love you. And he thinks it’s funny as hell that you are just as stubborn as me.”

“The universe decided it would be cruel to give us anything less than a taste of our own medicine.” A taste that you deal with a gentle, loving kiss. “I should call the hotel. Before I forget or get distracted by my soulmate some more.”

“You do that.” He smacks your ass when you start to get up and smirks when you whirl around and glare at him. “Got a phone on the dresser.” He points out. “Don’t even have to get dressed.”

“Helpful.” You send that smirk right back at him and shake your head, then cross his room to make the call. To your surprise, your brother actually picks up when the front desk transfers you to the room.

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” Your brother rushes out, obviously worried when he came back to the room to find you not there. “Why the hell did you leave without saying anything?”

“I’m so sorry.” Turning back to look at Javi, you cringe apologetically. “But I’m fine. I left with Javier.” The man himself is lying in bed watching you with hooded eyes and you bite your lip. “I’m gonna stay here tonight and come get my stuff from the hotel in the morning, okay?”

“Javier? The guy you were kissing on the dance floor?” His voice ticks up in surprise but he’s relieved that you are okay. You are a grown ass woman, but your time in Colombia and him coming so close to losing you had made him a little protective. “Some chick named Lorraine was going around telling people that he and you are soulmates.”

“We are, Mickey.” The childhood nickname has been on the shelf for a lot of years, but your voice softens with affection — both for him and for Javi. “I had no idea, but your buddy Danny is his cousin.”

If you could see his face, you would laugh at him and call him a fish, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “You— he’s your soulmate?” He asks, sure that he had misheard or you are yanking his chain. “Are you sure?”

"I'm sure." He must be in shock if he isn't teasing or needling you for details, but you can understand that. "Remember before the wedding, I told you he was from here? I wasn't specific. We're literally in his hometown."

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t put it together. I couldn’t imagine when you said Javier you meant Javier.” He frowns, trying to remember what the guy looks like, “He kind of looks like Burt Reynolds, right?”

You snort at the comparison but nod, not bothering to hide your giggles when you look right at Javier and agree. "Yeah, I guess he does kind of look like Burt Reynolds."

He rolls his eyes at you and flips you off, although there is a tiny edge of a smirk on his face. Burt Reynolds had done this pose on a bear skinned rug a few years ago, so Javi flips onto his side and cups his cock while he poses like Burt had while laying across the bed.

When you burst out laughing your brother grunts in confusion, and you have to dismiss it away quickly. "Nothing, nothing," you assure him through laughs. "Javi just flipped me off for the comparison." After a few seconds you calm down again, and shift the phone on your shoulder. "Listen, I'm...I'm gonna call Mom tomorrow. Javi's going to come home with us on Monday to meet her and see the old neighborhood."

“Wow.” He sounds impressed but he agrees. “Sure. I won’t say a word. I just came back to the hotel to change and check on you anyway. Be safe.” He tells you and then murmurs your name. “I love you.” He promises. “And I’m happy you are spending time with your soulmate.”

"I love you too, Mickey. Go have fun with your friends and we'll see you around noon tomorrow so you can sleep off whatever bullshit you get into with your buddies tonight." A round of good nights punctuate the phone call before you hang up and slide back across the room, ready to climb back in bed with Javier. "Lorraine was talking about us after we left," you tell him, smirking. "Everybody in Texas already knows we're soulmates, apparently."

He hadn’t expected anything less, but he shifts to sit up. “Does that upset you?” He asks. “Lorraine was probably trying to spin it, or claim some hand in us finding each other.”

"Baby, she can shout it from the rooftops and I'll just repeat it with pride." You climb onto the mattress and snuggle into his side happily. "I love you."

He softens, folding you against his side. His arm wraps around your back and hums happily. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He repeats back to you, feeling a long yearned for sense of peace as you lay with him.

******

"I know my mom is going to want to feed us as soon as we get back to the house but I swear I'm still full from breakfast." Groaning slightly as you get off the plane, you lean into Javi's side and sigh. Chucho had made you and the boys a big 'going away breakfast' before you left for the airport this morning and even though it was early, everything is bigger in Texas.

“I swear that I’ve never seen that man cook as much as he had for you.” Javi snorts as he shoulders the bag that you had wanted to bring on the plane. His own bag was checked along with your other bag. Guiding you towards the baggage claim.

"Dad used to do the same thing." Michael tells him, trailing just a pace or two behind. He pokes your shoulder and grins. "This one brings out the caretaking instinct in fathers."

“Pop was thrilled to meet her. And it’s been a long time since there was a woman in the house.” He smiles as he takes your hand. “He wanted to make a better impression than me.”

"I promised to take Polaroids while we're up here. He wants to see New England, too." Javier's father had taken to you immediately and without question, and you had relished the opportunity to warm up to your soulmate's father. "I think I'm going to put together a Rhode Island care package to bring to him when we go back to Texas."

“He would love that.” He had enjoyed watching his father fuss over you and how you had responded to the fatherly presence. It had been a long time since Chucho had someone to fuss over and you both seemed to enjoy it. “The man loves gifts, no matter how much he protests.”

“I am not above bribing my future father-in-law for his affection,” you half-joke, though just the sentence makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“You don’t have to bribe him.” Javi promises. “He might have already put you in his will and written me out.” He had laughed when he had seen how thrilled Chucho was with you, although it had choked him up when the older man had pointed out how like his mother you are.

"Makes sense." The grin on your face is unapologetic, and you keep close to Javi's side as Michael goes hunting up and down the conveyor belt to find his own suitcase. "My mother will love you that much, too. We're just trading parental affection."

He chuckles. “He does know the luggage will come to us, right?” He asks, watching your brother in amusement.

“Impatience is a family trait,” you tell him, entirely unphased by Michael’s unnecessary pursuit. You’re used to it by now.

“I’m not even that bad.” Javi snorts and rolls his eyes. The past couple of days have included both interrogation by your brother and teasing. He hadn’t had the heart to tell the Marine that he’s done more intense interrogations than he would ever dream of.

Leaning into his side again, you put one arm around Javi’s waist and kiss his cheek. “The most patient thing anyone in our family has ever done was the years I waited to see you again.”

“Then I don’t know if I’m impressed or insulted now.” He teases, smirking when you pout at him and lean in to press his lips to yours.

“Be impressed.” You murmur, grinning against his lips when your brother clears his throat.

Javi glances over your shoulder, still kissing you and he smirks when he sees the way he’s shifting uncomfortably. Like it’s strange that you are kissing someone.

"Okay, I'm gonna go find Mom." He says finally, when he has shifted his feet enough times to catch Javier looking at him and knows he's being intentionally needled at.

Reluctantly pulling away from your soulmate, you snag your suitcase that has somehow appeared at your feet — Michael's searching probably — and thread your fingers through Javier's. "We'll all go, don't get your tighty-whities in a twist."

Javi spies his own bag and grabs it, throwing it over his shoulder. “We’re all set.” He promises, shrugging slightly at your brother.

"She said she'd be at arrivals with the car. We should be able to find her easily." You might walk a little faster out of enthusiasm, but that's alright. Your mother was already talking about what she was going to cook to welcome Javier to the family before you hung up the phone with her yesterday.

It’s amusing that you are almost outpacing him, picking up speed and he has to shuffle a little faster to keep up with you. “Excited?”

"Maybe." And you aren't apologetic for it in the least, inhaling the cool autumn air the second you walk out the door between the two men. It only takes a second of scanning the curb full of parked cars to spot your mother and you tug Javier in her direction immediately. "Mom!" She's parked almost all the way down, so you wave and hustle along with Javier and Michael laughing behind you.

Your mother looks like you, or – you look like her. Both of you falling into the hug like it’s been years rather than days since you’ve last laid eyes on each other. “Are they always like this?” He asks Michael.

"Yeah." Your brother nods, shifting his bag to his other hand. "Since she got back, anyway."

Javi sighs softly, knowing that some of that is his fault and he tries to not let the pang of guilt bring down the mood in this first meeting.

There is whispering between you and your mother, but it only takes a few moments before you step back and your mother is walking out toward the two men like a woman on a mission. Without a single second of hesitation, she wraps Javier up in a welcoming hug and holds on tight. "I'm glad to finally meet you." She says close to his ear, because there is no other place for her to speak.

He is surprised by the warm greeting, but his own arms lock around her and he hugs her back. “It’s my pleasure.” He promises. “You have one hell of a daughter.”

"Don't I know it." There is a smile on her face when she draws back, but her hands stay on Javier's shoulders and seriousness in her eyes. "Thank you for making sure she came home to me safely. From the bottom of my heart."

“I was going to at least give her that.” He hums. “Even if we weren’t together then, she was important to me. Her safety was important, and her happiness.”

"Okay, guys..." Wiping away a bit of silent water from under your eyes, you basically flail your hands at your mother and soulmate to urge them to save this heartfelt moment for someplace more private. "Maybe we should go back to the house? Before I get all choked up over here."

Your mom agrees and pulls back and reaches for the handle of your bag, but Javier shakes his head. “I’ve got it.” He insists.

"She said you were a gentleman." Your mother beams. "Come on, guys. Everybody pile in, I've got a lasagna in the oven and your Uncle Carmie dropped off wine last night."

He follows your lead and trails after you as you walk beside your mom, already chatting intensely and it’s interesting to see how open you are with her.

You pile into the backseat with Javier and let your brother sit up front, returning to that new habit you’ve found of leaning into his side whenever you are next to your soulmate. “The drive isn’t long,” you promise him, bucking your seatbelt just before your mother pulls into traffic. “Nothing is too far apart here.”

“That doesn’t bother me.” He has lived in cities and on the ranch where the earnest neighbor was three miles away. Both of them have their pros and cons and he is adaptable. If you wanted to live here, he would grumble when he shoveled snow but he would do it. Couldn’t be much different from shoveling manure.

“The old joke is that if you have to drive more than a half an hour in Rhode Island, that’s a day trip and you have to pack a lunch,” your mother jokes from the front seat. “I imagine Texas is a different animal altogether.”

He snorts. “You can drive all day and still not be out of the state.” He tells you. “If you only drive half an hour, it’s just a quick trip to town.”

“Exactly.” Your mother laughs, putting her attention back on the road. “We’re the smallest state with the biggest attitude.”

“I’m learning that.” Javi hums, winking at you and then looking back out the window.

******

It really doesn't take long to get home again, and you give Javi the complete-if-brief tour of your house ending in your bedroom. It's a huge relief now that you've redecorated since high school. Javi did not need to see all your old heartthrob posters up on the walls.

“She seemed to like me.” He sets your bag down and puts his own beside it, looking around your room. Honestly a little surprised that he has been put with you, he had expected to sleep in a guest room and have to sneak into your bed.

"That's because I was honest with her about the fact that I wouldn't have survived the kidnapping if you hadn't worked your ass off to find me." You take a second to dig out a sweater for an extra layer before tucking yourself into his side, but the warmth from him is better than the sweater you found anyway. "I figured we could tell her the rest together. But she knows you saved my life, Javi. Nothing could make her not like you after that."

"You would have survived." Javi is sure of that now. He might have been a hair's breath away from unravelling then, but now he is completely sure of the fact that you would have found some way to escape. "I know you would have. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"Who knows what would have happened." Exploring the possibilities was important in therapy, but the fact is that he did save you, and you will forever be grateful to him for that. "What matters is that we're both here now."

“We are here.” He smirks. “In your childhood bedroom.” He will definitely be making a few fantasies that he’s entertained since planning this trip come to life.

“That doing something for you, hermoso?” The twist of his lips and raise of his eyebrow isn’t just teasing anymore. You know that look now. It’s a promise.

“Have you ever fucked in here?” He asks, voice dipping down lower, something he’s discovered makes you wet. His arms slide around your back and his groin presses firmly into you. “Or have you just fingered that pretty cunt in this bed?”

“Fuck, Javi—” You have to swallow the rest of your groan so you don’t get carried away, but your arms are up around his neck instantly and you all but purr in his arms. Squirming has the added benefit of rubbing your torso against him and you grin when his smirk flickers in arousal. “No, I haven’t fucked in here yet. You offering?”

“’Course I am.” He snorts, making his cock twitch on purpose. “We can unpack later.”

“Defiling my childhood innocence first thing?” The leering look in his eyes is tinged with sweet affection, though, which makes you grin. “I like it.”

He chuckles, tilting his head to press his lips to yours, enjoying that soft welcome that comes every time. You lean into him, want him just as badly as he wants you and it’s quickly becoming his new obsession.

It’s not more than ten minutes from start to finish, but you’re panting and giggly, wrapped around him when he pulls you back into his arms after wrecking both of you with seemingly little effort. “That’s how long it takes to unpack, right?” You snicker, stealing more kisses before you bother to get redressed.

“Didn’t see you complaining.” He huffs, but he’s grinning back at you. “Sometimes quickies are the best kind of fucking.”

“I would not complain.” One more kiss and you have to pull up your pants, otherwise you’ll just drag him into that bed again. “If I ever complain, take me to a doctor because I’ve been body-swapped.”

“That would be a damned shame too.” He reaches out and slaps your ass playfully. “Happen to like this body, and the attitude that’s in it. When she’s not yelling at me.” He teases, winking at you with a smirk.

"I haven't yelled at you once in the last few days." You smirk, returning the ass smack with a sharp crack of your hand and that has both of you raising impressed eyebrows. "Screaming your name is different."

“You can scream my name as loud as you need to, sweetheart.” Javi chuckles and waggles his eyebrows playfully. The past few days have been filled with lighthearted banter and teasing, making him feel younger than he has in years.

“Later.” It’s a promise. Set in stone. And you toss him a wink before getting redressed. “We should go back down, cariño. I think I finally burned off enough of what your dad fed us for breakfast to be hungry for lunch.”

“Then let’s go get something to eat.” He agrees, holding out his hand for you to take. He likes touching you, loves it actually. It’s reassuring and calming for him to touch you. It’s like the part of him that he didn’t know was aching while you were gone is now soothed and repaired when his fingers caress your skin.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” In the doorway of your old room, holding hands with your soulmate, you bite your lip out of nerves.

“You can ask me anything.” The lightheartedness has morphed into something sober, but he doesn’t waver, holding your gaze.

“If you don’t want to have the conversations with my family about marriage or kids or the big future things, it’s totally fine. Everything has happened really fast. So if you only want to tell them about moving to be together, that’s okay with me.” It’s not exactly a question, the way you phrased it, but the thought tumbles out without editing and you hold tight to his hand for certainty. You’re not trying to wiggle out of anything, but rather saying that you’ll take things at his pace.

“Baby,” Javi turns towards you and he caresses your face with his free hand, still holding tight to your other one. “I’ll answer any question that they want to ask.” He promises. “Most of them are yours to answer anyway.” He reminds you. “You decide when you want to get married, or be pregnant.”

"I just don't want you to feel rushed. Or pressured." You clarify, leaning into his chest to hug him tight.

“I’ve had my entire life to wait for this moment.” He assures you. “I’m not feeling rushed, sweetheart. I think we need to be right here.”

"I love you." More than you thought you could. More than you ever expected to. So much that it feels like it's filling up your chest and you hope it never stops.

******

"There you two are." Your mother has the entire table filled with food when you come downstairs, exactly as you predicted, and you give Javi's hand a squeeze as if told say 'I told you so'.

"Sorry, I was showing Javi some old photos after we unpacked," you lie, neatly brushing away the extra time you were upstairs. And making a mental note to show him some high school photos later.

"Hmmmm." The sound that she makes is one of amused disbelief but she doesn't call you out directly. Instead, she motions towards the seats. "Come on, let's eat." She insists.

"So this is what it takes to get you to make lasagna, huh?" Instead of lingering on the question or her obvious disbelief, you trend straight toward teasing — as is your entire family's custom. "One of your kids has to bring home their soulmate to make it happen?"

“Figured it was as good a time as any.” She swats at you playfully and looks towards Javier. “Do you drink wine?”

"Uncle Carmie's homemade basement hooch is an acquired taste, Ma," you laugh, but reach to grab the bottle from the counter anyway before you sit down. "Try some of mine, babe. If you like it, then pour a glass for yourself."

“We made bathtub hooch in high school.” Javi snorts, looking at the bottle and pouring himself some instead of trying yours like you suggested. If he doesn’t like it, he’ll just have the one glass.

"Brave man." Michael snorts, already digging into lunch and bypassing the salad bowl to serve himself a large slice of lasagna. "That shit will put hair on your chest."

"Language, Michael." Your mother warns. "We have a guest.”

Javi chuckles. “I’ve said worse things.” He promises her. “Nothing he says will surprise me.”

"I didn't raise my babies to be crass." She insists, luckily paying more attention to passing the plate of garlic bread than she is to your face and missing the doubtful expression to shoot Javi and your brother. "So, Javier, what an unexpected weekend!"

“It has been surprising,” he admits, looking over at you with a small smile. “But I don’t think that it’s been unwelcome for either one of us.”

"Not at all." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. "It feels very...meant to be."

“I honestly don’t know if I would have had the nerve to call her if she hadn’t shown up at the wedding.” He tells your mother honestly.

"I think it's very sweet that you found each other again by accident." Once everyone is served, only then does your mother tuck in. The four of you have plenty of space at the big, round dinner table but it doesn't feel like you're far apart or that the table is crowded. It just feels comfortable. "The powers that be knew it was time to nudge you back together."

Javi looks down at the meal as been dished up, it looks delicious. “Thank you.” He tells her. “It looks amazing. Your daughter is also one hell of a chef so I know this will be great.”

“She takes after her father.” Your mother beams at that. “I do my best, but she’s got his talent.”

The praise is kind, but you shrug slightly and fork up a perfect bite before throwing Javi a grin. “Chucho promised to teach me Southern cooking, so I’m combining Dad powers.”

“Dad has all of my mom’s recipes.” Javi explains. “Although most of them haven’t been used since she got sick.”

“It can be hard to reopen those old memories. Food carries such nostalgia.” Your mother smiles gently, having known already from your stories about your soulmate that he had lost his mother years ago. “I’m sure she would be proud, just like my husband would be, to see her recipes handed down to the next generation.”

“She would have loved your daughter.” Javi snorts, looking over at you with a fond smile. “And encouraged you to give me hell at every opportunity.”

"That she gets from me," your mother laughs, grinning as you and your brother just shake your heads and continue to eat.

"We figured out early on that Texas stubborn and New England stubborn are pretty similar," you tell her when you finish your bite. "Which is why we butted heads early on. I'm glad we got that phase out of the way early on."

“I’m sure that there will be plenty of head butting left.” Javi has no illusions that life together would be a walk in the park. Neither one of you are built that way.

"Of course." That is the more realistic way of approaching it, you're just feeling really good about the situation right now and it's making you feel rosy. "But at least we'll talk to each other when that happens now. Instead of stonewalling or just getting mad."

“That’s right.” He nods and winks at you before looking back at your mother. “I know you have a lot of questions for me.”

“I might.” She laughs though, appreciating the acknowledgment, and then laughs again when you wave your hand to tell her to go ahead. “Well,” she sips her wine and considers the man at her table. He’s older than you but not by too terribly much. Certainly handsome, but looks as though he has been through a lot. Like the edges of his smile are etched with concern that it might all be too fleeting. Poor dear. He needs a partner. “Have the two of you talked about how you’re going to manage this yet?” She asks, motioning between the two of you.

“To be completely honest….” Javi glances back at you and then looks towards your mother again as he taps the table. “I’m not sure where I stand professionally.” He admits, knowing that it wouldn’t help him get in your mother’s good graces, but it’s the truth. “I am waiting to hear from Washington.”

“Basically, Mom?” You set your fork down for a moment and offer Javi a reassuring smile. “We’re talking about living together being the next step, but we won’t know where until Javi hears from work.”

“I see.” She wonders what he might have done, but she doesn’t ask. “And hopefully there will be a guest bedroom wherever this might be for visitors?”

“Of course.” She isn’t being immediately critical or insistent that you move near her, so you’re ready to agree to just about anything. “No matter where we end up, there will be space for guests.”

“Good.” She will have to be satisfied with that. And hopefully with Javier being in trouble at his job, that will mean that he won’t go back to Colombia. Although, why would he? Escobar is dead.

“There’s no way to do it easily,” you point out to your mother gently. “With both of our families being so far apart.”

“I understand.” She might have broken down crying after the phone call, both in relief that you have been reunited with your soulmate and the fear of losing you again. She won’t tell you that. For too long you had tried to pretend Javier hadn’t existed and that Colombia was a bad dream, now you look happy. She’s not doing to put a damper on that for anything in the world.

“It’s alright, Ma.” Michael jokes, trying to relieve the tension at the table. “Your boys are still homebodies.”

“You never would leave if you wouldn’t get thrown in the brig.” She huffs at her son, but she is happy for how much they love their home.

You glance over at Javi, squeezing his knee under the table in silent question, and smile again when he returns your query with a little nod. Just like upstairs, he reassures you that it's okay to tell. To share the things you've talked about. "If we end up anywhere without four seasons, we're going to have to come home for the holidays at least a few times," you tell your mother, unable to suppress any of the warmth and joy in your expression. "I know you won't let your grandkids go without at least a few white Christmases."

“Babies?” Her eyes widen dramatically and she lights up like a Christmas tree herself. “You’re talking kids?”

There is the excitement you knew was lurking beneath the surface. You know it will be bittersweet for her to have you leave again, but good things are looming in the future. "Not right away," you caution her, but can't help grinning along with your mother. "But yes. We're talking about kids."

“You will make such beautiful babies together.” She sighs happily, emotional and even having to wipe away a stray tear.

"You pressed the grandma button." Michael snorts and helps himself to a second piece of lasagna. "But that means I get to be the favorite uncle, right?" He eyes Javier and raises one eyebrow. "Do you have any brothers, Jav?"

“No.” It’s unusual but he shakes his head. “I’m an only child.” He admits with a sigh. “My parents had a lot of loss early on in pregnancies. So after mama gave birth to me, they decided they were done. Pop didn’t want to risk her health.”

“Which makes perfect sense.” You squeeze his hand gently on top of the table, fingers tucked into fingers, as if that little gesture could possibly tell him that he is enough. That his family is just the right size as it is. “Our kids will already have two ridiculous uncles. That is plenty.”

“I never felt alone.” He tells you quietly. “Too many cousins for that.” He knows you will feel a little sad for him, but you shouldn’t.

“I know, cariño.” His childhood was different from yours, which doesn’t make it better or worse in any way. It just makes it different. “And if you ever catch me implying that it was, just remind me that you have more cousins than I do.”

He smiles at you, understanding completely and reaches for his glass to take a sip of the wine.

“Will there…” Your mother clears her throat in that pointed way only parents can. “Be a wedding, before there are babies? That’s the old fashioned order, I’m told.”

“Unless there’s a change in plan.” He has to admire how blunt your mother is. “My father would beat me black and blue if it was the other way.”

“Glad your father and I are on the same page.” She hums, smirking with something like victory.

He cuts his eyes over at you and gives you an amused look, very aware of the plans your mother is already making. “So we were thinking of eloping.” He announces, just to see what she would say.

The unceremonious squawk that comes out of her mouth is pure shock, you know that, but the way her jaw hits the floor and her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates has you bursting out laughing and all but clinging to Javi’s arm to jerk from falling out of your chair.

“Calm down, Mom,” you wheeze through laughter. “He’s fucking with you.”

Javi chuckles and shrugs. “She bet me twenty dollars I wouldn’t tell you that.” Michael thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“I’ll buy you dinner.” You huff, rolling your eyes at him but glad that the boys are entertaining each other.

“You cannot elope.” Your mother gasps and Javi wonders if she actually heard you say it was a joke or if she was too busy having an aneurism. “We aren’t.” He promises. “We will do it right.”

“Javi wants to have a wedding.” Offering up that information seems so important now that you practically hand it to your mother on a platter. “We won’t elope, we promise.”

“I’ve had one failed trip to the altar.” He admits, being honest with your mother seems like a good thing to do. Especially since you and her are close. “My ex-fiancée tricked me into thinking we were soulmates. I found out the night before the wedding.” He sighs. “It put me off of the idea for a long time, but I want to marry your daughter.”

“Is this…” Your mother looks at you curiously.

“The woman telling everyone about us now? Yeah.” You shrug to Javi. “I told her about meeting Lorraine on the phone.”

“She’s been around for a long time.” Javi sighs. “Small town life and all.”

“Oh, I know all about that.” Your mother nods as if she suddenly understands the situation perfectly. “My sister-in-law is the queen of small town gossip. Up here at least. They would probably be dangerous together.”

“I don’t mind people knowing.” Javi shrugs again. “So I didn’t try to keep her from running her mouth.”

"No, it's definintely not a secret." Not anymore. Not this time around. Not when you've well and truly learned your lesson about keeping your mouth shut when you care about someone. You will never abstain from telling Javi you love him again. "I'd shout it from the rooftops here and in Texas."

Javi chuckles and smirks at you. “Really? From the rooftops?”

His challenge only makes you grin and you nod emphatically. “Pick some rooftops if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” He promises. “But I don’t think it’s necessary. I know you love me. And I’d do anything for you.”

“I’m glad we agree.” You murmur, leaning over at the table to kiss him softly. The smallest, gentlest show of affection that actually means so much. The fact that you’ve learned to be gentle with each other is huge. It shows how far you’ve come, and so quickly too.

******

“Javier, uh, there’s a call for you.” The statement comes with a little bit of bewilderment, and Javi looks at you as he leans forward, unfolding his arm from where it was lying behind you on the couch. “Okay.” He stands up quickly, aware that two people have this number, his father and the secretary for the director of the DEA. Either way, a call for him has to be important.

Your mother has set down the telephone on the nearby kitchen counter in order to come into the living room where the television is on, and she sits down in her armchair on your other side when you don't get up to follow Javier into the kitchen immediately.

"Did it sound official?" You ask, wondering if Chucho is alright or if the calls he's been waiting for from Washington has finally come through.

“It was a woman.” She frowns slightly and glances back towards the kitchen. “Like a secretary or something.”

"His hearing." Sinking slightly in your seat seems like a reasonable reaction, but a moment later you're pushing off the couch to stand. "If it were his dad, you would still be in there chatting long distance. A secretary means the call is from Washington."

Javi turns as you walk into the kitchen, still listening as he motions you forward. “Wednesday at thirteen hundred.” He confirms, frowning slightly when he realizes that it will eat into his visit with your family. He will have to get the train to D.C. tomorrow to make sure he’s there on time. “Yes. Thank you.”

He opens one arm to let you close when he hangs up the phone, and you immediately slip to his side. "Wednesday." You repeat the day and tuck yourself in tight beside him. "I'll call and get out train tickets if you want to go pack."

He sighs softly, resting his cheek against yours and feeling a little nervous. He knows that they should fire him, but he doesn’t want to end his career with the DEA like this. “Do you want to come with me?”

"Of course I'm coming." There was never a doubt or question in your mind. "I'm not going to make you face this alone, baby. Especially not when you did it for me."

“Even if I am fired, I still have no regrets.” Javi promises, dropping a kiss on your lips gently.

"If you're fired then we'll go back to Texas with our heads held high, and you'll take that deputy job." You promise him, savoring that kiss and that promise like a lifeline. "I'm with you no matter what."

“No matter what.” It might be surprising to him, something he’s still accepting and getting used to, but he takes comfort in it. No matter what, he will have you.

******

"How long do you think we'll have to wait for them to deliberate?" Waiting outside the hearing room to be called back in feels like waiting for a death sentence, but you sit with your hands under your thighs and try not to fidget in your most-presentable office dress while Javi paces up and down the hallway.

Sighing, he resists the urge to rub his hand through his hair and ruin it. It’s already been hard enough to resist having a cigarette. Fuck, he needs one. “The rest of my life.” He growls, glancing back at the door impatiently.

"At least we're on the same page." You agree, sighing outwardly and silently wishing for the same two things as him — an answer and a cigarette.

He glances back at you on his next pass down the hallway and sees you playing with your skirt. Walking over to the chair beside you and dropping down into it with a heavy huff. “Whatever happens, I’m not going to apologize for what I did.” He reminds you. “Kissing ass isn’t my style.”

"I don't expect you to apologize." No, you know him better than that. And you know the bastards in the government better than that, too. "I just wish I could go in there and start throwing punches at the assholes who preside over all the bullshit bureaucracy while they make everybody else do the dirty work."

“Fucking bastards.” He grunts, glancing back at the door again. “I should tell them to kiss my ass.”

"Aw, c'mon." You squeeze his hand, aiming a lurid grin at him to try to distract him for even a second. "That's my job."

He snorts and shakes his head. “You haven’t done it yet.” He points out, smirking slightly.

Glad that your strategy worked even for a second, you wink and blow him a kiss. "Tonight," you promise, glossing it in a sultry tone that makes both of you laugh.

The door to the room opens and Javi’s face immediately shifts into something serious. Whipping his head around to watch as a bureaucrat in a well-cut suit and a fresh haircut sticks his head out. “Peña,” he calls. “We’re ready for you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly before letting go so he can straighten, and silently curse the whole bullshit process one more time as he disappears behind the hearing room door. You aren't allowed in there despite having played a role in the whole thing, and so you're stuck outside listening at the door for at least a little bit longer.

Javi sees a panel of five in front of him and he knows that it’s not good. He’s rubbed some the wrong way, especially since Messina is one of the five. He had ignored her orders more than once in the pursuit of Escobar.

It's a bureaucratic lecture as much as a hearing. A spanking laced with backhanded compliments. It's a clusterfuck of blame gaming and backpedaling. It's the kind of bullshit that would have had you snapping at someone if you were in here with him so he is belatedly glad that you have to wait outside.

Right up until those few magic words: "Agent Peña, how much do you know about the Cali Cartel?"

******

An hour later, Javier opens the door, stepping back out onto the hall with a slightly stunned expression on his face.

"What happened?" He doesn't look upset, but you still shoot up out of your seat instantly.

He had been looking down at the file in his hand and when you say something, he looks up at you. Suddenly wondering if this might be too much for you. “I— got a promotion.” He manages.

"What?" Your jaw drops and eyebrows shoot up to your hairline.

He rocks his jaw for a moment and steps over to you. Frowning slightly. “I shouldn’t take it.” He murmurs quietly, hearing the door open behind him and the panel file out of the room, chattering to themselves.

"Do you want to take it?" It seems ludicrously obvious to you that he should take it, in fact, but Javi is not always a straightforward man.

“More than anything, but….” He sighs softly and reaches up to cup your cheeks. “I’ll walk away if you want me to.”

"Why the hell would I want you to do that?"

“I have been made station chief of Bogotá, Colombia.” He reveals softly. “Tasked with taking down the Gentlemen of Cali.”

"Shit." It feels for a second like you've been kicked in the chest by Chucho's work horse, but the swirling confusion around you settles to a sting in mere moments. "So...we're going back?"

He sees the panic that races across your face, the fear flashing in your eyes. He wants this. He wants to prove that he can do it, that he can complete his mission and take them down, but he won’t do it at your expense. “Not if you don’t want to.” It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you to stay behind, but he knows you will reject that idea completely.

It takes a long second, but when you rest your hand on his wrist and feel the warmth of him flood you — the safety of him — you remember how to breathe. "I won't do anything stupid this time," you promise him without a hint of sarcasm or teasing. "If you say I need security, I need security. And I'm not taking any shitty jobs in dodgy parts of town."

“Are you sure?” He worries and it shows in his eyes, not caring that his superiors see him with you like this. They know the connection – now – and it’s already been determine that he would have secure housing for you and him. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to make yourself go if you can’t.” As badly as he wants this, he would never make you relive that time.

“I love you, too.” That is what he’s saying. Through the worry and the negotiation, he’s saying how much he cares, and that means the world to you. So you take a deep breath. “Escobar is dead. Whatever the new threat is…I know you can deal with it. And I’d rather try and go with you than just hide in my fear forever. If it’s too much, I’ll come back to the States and we’ll rack up a hell of a long distance bill.”

“Okay.” He watches you closely, looking for any hesitation. “We’ll be staying in a high security building.”

“I’m proud of you.” It’s so important that he know that. That he understands this is a huge victory and that you don’t let it be overshadowed by what happened years ago. “You’ve worked your ass off and you deserve the recognition.”

“We’ll see.” He snorts. “It’s more responsibility, and I’ll be more hands off.” That part will drive him crazy, not leading the investigation himself.

"You'll have office hours?" It sounds almost entirely foreign coming from a man you know used to burn the candle at every available end. "And I would be waiting for you at home...how very Donna Reed of us."

He chuckles. “Well you can always work on those family recipes and go get your hair done and have lunch.” He shrugs. “Whatever the wives do.”

"Maybe that's the first book. A family cookbook." You laugh slightly, in disbelief at how ordinary it sounds. "So when do we leave?"

Javi grimaces slight and bites his lip. “A week?” He asks. “They wanted me to leave in two days but I told them I needed a week.”

"Okay." That gets a nod from you, and you grasp his hands tightly. "We'll get train tickets to go back to Rhode Island tonight and I'll pack up, then we'll fly back to Laredo so you can pack, too? See Chucho again for a few days and then we'll fly back to Colombia from Texas?"

“That works for me if it works for you.” He hums, wondering if you are putting on a brave face or if you are just this strong.

"I'll look up Inez after we get settled." You decide, grateful for a moment to lean against him when he opens up one arm to let you into his orbit. He's worried. You know that. And you're worried too. But it took until the prospect of being apart from him again to realize that the bond between you is a hell of a lot stronger than your fear. "We'll make it work."

He almost asks if you will see about finding Vanessa and Freckles, but he doesn’t. He can’t ask that question, not right now. He nods. “It would be good for you to have someone.” He murmurs.

“I’ll do my best to make friends with the other wives,” you promise, but you know it might be futile. You’re probably going to struggle with the traditional role expected of you, but you’ll get the important things right. Being there to support him is the most important part. “There’s…no chance Steve and Connie will be there with us, I guess?”

“They are in Miami.” He tells you, shaking his head. “Family is there and they have Olivia.”

“Yeah.” It was a long shot and you knew that, so you just nod. “I didn’t think so. That’s okay. They earned their rest. You still have some serious ass to kick.” A warm, soft, fierce smile curves up the corners of your mouth, etched with pride and determination. This may not be your fight from the outside, but you have some personal demons who need to get squashed in the process.

******

“Sweetheart?” The man who would never pass up a chance to eye a beautiful woman barely looks at the young stewardess as she asks if there’s anything else he needs after delivering his drink. Glancing over at you to make sure you haven’t changed your mind about just wanting water. “Anything else?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.” At some point later you might ask for a snack but right now your water and the window seat are plenty enough.

“We’re good.” He turns back towards the slightly miffed looking woman with a nod, but doesn’t smile at her as he dismisses her.

You huff a laugh under your breath as she walks away and settle your hand over his knee in the tiny airplane seats. “You bruised her ego. Poor thing wanted to flirt.”

“Huh?” His brow furrows in confusion and he frowns as he tries to understand what you are talking about. Until he catches the woman moving out of the corner of his eye and glances over. “Oh. No.” He shakes his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“How was she supposed to know that?” You ask with a small grin. Commitment is a very sexy look on him.

He glances back at you, aware that you are teasing him and he shifts in his seat. He’s had time to think about a lot of things. Going back to Colombia is chance for him to prove himself, in more ways than one. “I – uh, I know that I’ve been— uh, a slut.” He grimaces slightly at the term, but it’s the truth. “But even Lorraine would tell you that I never— when we were together – I didn’t cheat.”

“Javi…” His choice of term does makes you crack a grin, but you still face him in your seat and take this moment as seriously as he is in giving it to you. “To be honest? It never even crossed my mind that you might. You were both a bit slutty before.” In Colombia, at least. You haven’t been since meeting him. “And now we’re committed. It’s a brave new world of monogamy for both of us.”

It’s like he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the relief is nearly physical. He wouldn’t blame you if he couldn’t satisfy your needs, it would honestly be kind of a fitting punishment for everything he’s done, but when you say monogamy he knows you mean it. “Yeah it is.” He nods.

“We can do it.” Seeing the relief on his face is almost like seeing it on your own, and you laugh a little and lower your voice. “We both have high sex drives. I’ll just come into the office so we can fuck on your lunch break.”

“Too bad you don’t still have that skirt you wore the first day I met you.” Now that that larger than imagined weight is off his chest, he smirks at you. Still imagining how you would have looked back then bent over his desk.

"I can easily get a new pencil skirt." In fact, now that you've lost a bit of weight, it will be that much easier to find nice things. "Should be a piece of cake now."

He frowns again and reaches for your hand. “The original was fucking sexy.” He promises. “I thought about bending you over my desk and didn’t know your name.”

The reassurance is sweet, and welcome, but you lean over to press a chaste kiss to his lips and grin. "And now you actually get to do it."

“Too bad it’s a full flight.” He chuckles. “Otherwise I might haul you into the bathroom on this tin can.”

"Save it." You nudge your nose against his. "We have a new apartment to christen."

“About that.” Javi shrugs slightly. “Station chief has its perks.” He tells you. “We are in penthouse accommodations. Views of the entire city.”

“Very fancy.” He’s told you about a few perks so far, including the fact that they’ve apparently assigned him a driver that you know he won’t use. Javi’s preference is always to drive himself — even visiting your family you gave directions from the passenger seat. “No jogging up three flights of stairs this time.”

“Thank fucking god.” Javi groans, leaning back in his seat. “I’m getting too old for that shit.”

"Just wait until it's kids we're running after." You sit back with him, grin still spread across your face. "That's a hell of a lot more running, cariño."

“Fuck.” He hisses. “Do you think those little assholes will run across rooftops too?”

"Not until they're older." Your laugh turns full and amused, but you link your fingers through his and smile. "I have a feeling at least one of them will grow up to be a stubborn badass like their dad."

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I’ve never told anyone this….and I’ll deny I said shit— but I don’t like heights.”

"Well." Fingers squeezing his, you nudge his shoulder and grin. "Then I won't ask you to fuck me against the penthouse windows. Don't need you looking down and getting scared."

“Oh no, fuck that.” His eyes shoot open and he glares at you. “That’s happening.” He huffs. “I mean I don’t like running across a roof when I have don’t know if I’m going to fall through the mother fucker and kill myself. I’ll definitely fuck you against the window.”

You smother a snort, knowing that that comment would get to him but glad to see the fire in his eyes regardless. "I'm looking forward to it."

He huffs at you, fully aware that you had baited him and he had fallen for it. Cutting his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink, he passes it to you automatically after he swallows.

"Don't be sour." He's ordered a whiskey from the stewardess and the sip you take burns pleasantly on its way down before you hand it back. "It's my only penthouse-related fantasy. I just wanted to make sure it sounded good to you, too."

“I’m not sour.” He promises after a moment. “Do you want to read the file too?” He has no intention of leaving you out of anything.

"Am I allowed to?" It hadn't occurred to you that it would be permitted, what with government red tape and all.

“Yeah.” He nods as he reaches down and pulls the file out of his briefcase. “I’ve already told them you will be read in.” He shrugs. “They don’t care since you are my soulmate.”

"I guess that saves us from having to worry about talking shop at home." Although you have to wonder if they would still be so blase if you were still employed as a journalist. Probably not. Which is fair.

“They knew I was going to do it anyway.” He admits shamelessly. “Nothing that could possibly put you in danger will be kept from you.”

"Who knows." You shrug. The flight is just beginning and you settle in for the few hours it will take to get to your layover in Mexico City. "Maybe I'll be able to help? I guess we'll find out."

******

The keys rattle in the door before it swings open, revealing Javi. Carrying his suit jacket and another box of files, he shuffles into the house and closes the door behind him. He’s later than he said he would be, and he feels guilty when he smells dinner, obviously waiting on him. Hopefully you got sick of waiting for him and went ahead and ate. “I’m home.” He calls out.

"I'm in the kitchen!" When you heard the door you had hopped up from the dinner table to throw dinner back into the oven and you stretch your aching muscles by reaching for two glasses and the whiskey bottle as he drags himself in looking haggard. "Hey baby."

“Hey.” He’s frustrated and tired, but he shoots you a half smile, aware that you will understand that. “Sorry. I got caught up.” It’s not an excuse, but at least you didn’t have to call him to find out where he was – this time.

"I figured, so I put your portion of baked pasta in a separate baker. I just put it in the oven. C'mere and let me hug you." Your arms come around him once he puts the files down on the counter, holding him against you and letting the relatively simple act of holding him evolve naturally as it always does — into a deep kiss.

Javi leans into you, unable to articulate how much he has needed you and appreciated you being here this time. He has the physical connection he needs, the emotional one just as important and he can confide in you. Pour his worries out and he knows that you would never betray him. Being the station chief in charge of this ordeal has been far more difficult than he had even imagined and it seems like no one but him and his agents want the gentlemen of Cali behind bars.

"So you brought home some weekend reading?" You prompt, after he's melted into your arms and is limply hugging you back like he does on his hardest days.

“I honestly don’t know if I can fucking do this.” He sighs, pulling back and looking at you with a weary expression. “We are being stonewalled.”

"Of course you can do this." A little self-doubt is understandable, though, and you lead him over to the table to let him flop into a chair while you go back for the glasses and whiskey. "If this was going to be easy they could have had anyone sitting in your office just napping the day away. But they asked you. They asked the man that they knew could push through the hardest days and the pull the hardest punches." You set the glasses down beside him and pour both to join him. "We've been here almost a year, Jav. We're just barely cracking the surface. The whole thing getting hard as hell right before you find a crack in the case...it's annoying as fuck but it makes sense."

He snorts, even though you are right. “It��s almost annoying how good you are at this.” He grumbles, nodding his thanks for the drink and pulling you down into his lap.

"I'd like to think I've had a little practice by now," you admit, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Just like you've learned how to talk me down from my word count panics when I don't think I'm getting enough written to really count as a writer."

“Your book is going to be amazing.” When he needs a break from reports or the bullshit that comes with this case, he’s been reading your progressing first draft of your novel. Giving you his honest feedback and never complaining when you make him re-read a slightly changed chapter over and over again.

"I'm going to claw my way into the mystery genre with my bare hands." The two of you share a small laugh, another kiss, and a sip from the same glass before you lean your forehead against his gently. "Happy anniversary, by the way."

“Anniversary?” His brows furrow in confusion and his heart skips a beat with worry that he’s fucked up something bad.

"It's been four years since we met the first time." It isn't the anniversary of when you got together, or of when you first started living together, or any of the other things. But something small, and silly, and just for you. "It's not big, but it's worth marking."

“Oh shit.” He relaxes slightly and his fingers caress your side gently. “Yeah, it’s been four years.” In some ways, it seems like a lifetime ago, so much has changed.” That makes him think of something. “Did you ever send that letter to Helena?”

"I got back a postcard today." There is no need to hop up from his lap, thankfully, and instead you reach across the table to slide the glossy card out from under your notebook and hand it to him. "She's getting married. Apparently her soulmate was in the States the whole time. But she promises to write us a longer letter when they're back from their honeymoon in a few weeks."

“That’s good.” Probably the best news he’s heard in a long time and he picks up the card to look at the neat handwriting. “She deserves happiness.”

"She does." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. "I'm glad she found it."

He hums and leans in, pressing his face into your neck and breathing you in. “Just like we’ve found it.” He murmurs softly. “We should get married.”

"You gotta propose first, hermoso." It might only be a gentle tease, but you grin as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close. "Then I can say yes and we can get to planning."

Sitting in his button up shirt, his tie askew, Javier reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring that he had taken out of the box earlier to inspect and shoved in his pants when Stetchner had come into his office uninvited. “You want me to get down on one knee?” He asks, holding it up for you to see. “Figured we could elope and not tell your mom. Let her plan the wedding and we just show up.”

"Javi!" The surprise of seeing an actual ring in his hand has you nearly falling off his lap but you hold on even tighter out of shock, just like thoughts start tumbling out of your mouth like they do when you get surprised. "No you don't need to get—did you really—how long have you been carrying that around for?"

“Picked it up two weeks ago?” He had been trying to think of something romantic, something fitting for your proposal, but everything seemed overkill. He showed you he loved you everyday, with the little things, not with overly elaborate proposals that could mean shit if he didn’t really want to commit. But right now seems like the right time. A very honest moment between the two of you.

"It's perfect." The ring, the moment — him — all of it. It's a standstill moment in time that could never have been manufactured and never could be duplicated. It's just for the two of you and it's perfect. You swoop in, needing to kiss him right now more than you need air.

He takes the kiss, easily, happily. Wrapping his arm around you and still holding up the ring, he lets the kiss drag on for a long minute before he pulls back with a smirk. “Is that a yes then?”

"Hell yes that's a yes." A giddy laugh bubbles out of you, and you can't help but steal one more, infinitely more chaste, kiss. "As soon as you want. We'll have to run back to the States for a weekend to actually have the wedding, but I'll let Mom plan whatever she wants and she'll be ecstatic."

“I thought you would like that.” The party is more of what Javier wants. The celebration. He doesn’t care if it’s in a church, although he’s sure that’s where it will be. And you will have already been married for however long planning the wedding takes, so you will get your way with wanting a marriage. “I love you, sweetheart.” He promises softly. “It’s fitting that our story started here and this is where we will make it forever.”

"I love you, too." He slides the ring onto your finger with satisfied pride and you don't bother blinking away the press of happy tears behind your eyes. They don't fall, you don't blubber, they're just there. Reminding you that the pounding of your heart is just as real as this moment. "I can't wait for whatever comes next."

------

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x f!reader #plus size reader #Narcos #Narcos fanfic #soulmate au #forced proximity #and they were roommates #enemies to lovers

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