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fluttershiesworld · 6 months ago
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CW for ED/food/weight loss under cut
i’m so fucked trying to lose weight in a healthy way without relapsing is like impossible. i don’t even know what it feels like to have a normal relationship with food or with my body anymore. not to mention that i genuinely cannot really afford food rn like i can’t get groceries this week and we have so little food in the apartment. like it’s not only easy mentally for me to slip back into eating one meal a day it’s like pretty much what i can afford right now especially since i don’t often have the energy to cook the little food we do have. im so exhausted idk what to do at all and i just kind of want to give up not even in a suicidal way just like what even is there to do at this point
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seventh-district · 1 year ago
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hhhhhhh it is 9pm i just woke up and for the life of me i can’t remember if my dentist appointment is tomorrow or the next day so now i have to get ready tonight Just In Case
#Seven.txt#cw dentist#this is what i get for not writing it down when they rescheduled the appointment! why didn’t i write it down!! (i deadass just. forgot to)#i literally remember thinking to myself ‘oh u better write that down so you don’t forget’ and Well. look what happened#i’m like 95% sure it’s on Tuesday. but i’m not 100% Certain. so i’m gonna get prepared tonight anyways and call to check in the morning#i mean regardless of the day i know it’s at 3pm. so realistically i could wait until the morning and get ready then even if it is tomorrow#but. i know i won’t be able to sleep if i don’t get ready ahead of time. i know my time management skills well enough to know#that i shouldn’t ever put off getting ready to do something. or i Will be late#so. *agressively shaves undercut washes hair exfoliates face shaves mustache plucks eyebrows paints nails picks out outfit etc.*#i mean it’s all shit i needed to do/was gonna do anyways idk why i’m acting like it’s Just bc i’ve got an appointment#but now i’ve gotta do it all Extra Thoroughly bc there’s gonna be people with glasses all up in my face and bright lights pointed at me#and yeah yeah blah blah blah they’ve seen it all they don’t care they’re focused on ur teeth I Know That. I Know That.#still doesn’t stop me from being insecure abt my appearance though#anyways enough tag rambling time to hit post#oh and also#to anyone who’s noticed my absence/silence i once again apologize for it i’ve had such a busy week and this upcoming one will be the same#maybe one day i’ll be able to maintain consistency in all aspects of my life but that day is not today#sigh
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sapphiremusings · 6 months ago
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when i’m down on my knees, | aemond targaryen
summary: with their wedding only a few days away, aemond eases his betrotheds fear of him.
cw: explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, baratheon!reader, no use of y/n
this is the first in a 2 part series! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :)
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The rumors concerning Lady Baratheon’s betrothed are not lost on her. No, she is well educated on Prince Aemond ‘One-Eye’ Targaryen’s unsavory reputation, just as much as every other lord and lady in Westeros.
Before she was shipped off to King’s Landing in preparation for her royal wedding, her sisters had made it their duty to tease her. They made sure that she was well aware of her prince’s cruel attitude, and the monstrous look of him, with a sharp scar down the left side of his face. By the time she had arrived to the Red Keep, she was teeming with fear as her sisters’ words echoed through her mind.
Prince Aemond is known to be a cruel yet dutiful man. He is said to be a skilled swordsman, besting his mother’s sworn knight, Ser Criston Cole, on many occasions. He rides the largest— and oldest— dragon, the same one that the conquerors sister-wife, Visenya, had rode into battle many times. He had claimed the she-dragon at a young age, losing his eye in the process to his young nephew. His missing left eye is another topic often whispered about in court. Some say that he had cut out another man’s eyeball, and placed it into his empty socket. Others say he has a large jewel in its place, something so peculiar and off-putting that he is forced to cover it up with a leather eyepatch.
All of this is to say that any sane lady would be terrified of their betrothal to Aemond Targaryen. Of course, Lady Baratheon is well aware that most Westerosi marriages are born out of duty, not love. If anything, she should feel blessed by the gods that she is betrothed to a young prince, and not some measly lord old enough to be her grandsire. Yet, she cannot help her feelings of terror at the thought of her upcoming wedding, and even more so, her soon-to-be husband.
From a young age, her septa had installed in her what was to be expected of her when she became of age. Being a dutiful wife was the only thing she was to worry about, and then being a dutiful mother to her husband’s heirs. She would often have nightmares about an old lord running his eager hands down her gaudy wedding gown, pushing her onto the marital bed where she would be forced to lay under his big gut as he ruts into her, witnesses to the dreaded bedding ceremony snickering behind the sheer curtains. Her ladies-in-waiting would comfort her after these night terrors, smoothing down her hair and promising that no harm would come to her. Even with their sweet words, she knew the truth; she would be forced to marry a stranger, and endure all the hardships that came with having no freedom of her own.
Now, with her wedding only a few days away, she can barely sit still. Her mind incessantly spins around various scenarios that can take place on that special day, and she worries over her impending future. She has taken to walking along the Keep’s gardens, and throughout the various twisting halls; anything to keep her moving. Her father always scolded her for this habit, as to him it was the equivalent of running away from your problems. Still, she can’t help it as the big day draws forward, her anxiety swollen inside her.
It isn’t that she doesn’t want to become a wife. It is merely her irrational fear of her husband-to-be. Even now, as he walks behind her, quiet in his sure steps, his gaze burns through all her layers, settling deep within her core. She feels as if she is on fire, and the longer he stares, calculating and as if she is a foreign creature, the more this inferno swells. Every move she makes is with caution, in fear that he will strike her down and show off that unforgiving nature that he is known for. So far, he hasn’t, but she believes this is merely a false front. Surely, he is waiting for when they are finally married to show his true colors, knowing that she will be his and unable to do anything about it.
She begs to the Seven to release her from this torment, her spine rigid as they continue their walk through the Keep’s halls. She had wanted to be alone, as she often has been since arriving in Kings Landing, artfully dodging any attempt at courting that Prince Aemond tried to enact. Truthfully, it has been his queen-mother, Alicent, who has pushed her son towards his betrothed, and to Lady Baratheon, he hasn’t seemed that worried over the fact that she has been avoiding him. No, he merely stares, violet eye darting over her face and figure as if she is a puzzle he is trying to solve.
Really, she doesn’t understand why he is still walking behind her, steps steady and calculated. They haven’t spoken a single word to each other since their initial greeting that morning, when he had been waiting outside her chamber doors, ready to escort her on her walk. Even then, it had merely been a “good morn” recited, both tense in their separate ways. Aemond couldn’t look more annoyed even if he tried, seemingly uninterested in anything she could potentially offer him. Not that she was offering anything.
Growing bored of wandering aimlessly around the Keep, Lady Baratheon pauses with a sigh. Tersely, she turns to the side, not daring to look at her betrothed, who has halted behind her. “I’d like to retire to my cha-“
“I want to show you something, my lady.”
Her heart nearly stops beating at his words, sudden and surprising as he takes a step towards her. She wishes to flee, but her feet stay planted on the floor, and she watches from the corner of her eyes as he brings a hand up to grab ahold of her elbow. Though the fabric of her dress sleeves acts as a barrier between flesh, she still feels as if she was scalded. She flinches, almost imperceptibly, but Aemond seems to notice as he lets out a hum.
She knows she mustn’t deny him. No, her septa had taught her well. So, she meekly nods her head, cheeks flushed in apprehension.
They walk back through the halls, towards a place she has never dared to step foot near, a dark alcove lit only by torches and candles. She lets out a gasp at the sight before her; the giant skull of the largest dragon known to Westeros. If she wanted to, she could walk straight into its jaws and past the many rows of sharp teeth. Her breath catches in her throat.
Aemond’s voice comes out in a whisper, right next to her ear. “This is the skull of Aegon the Conqueror’s dragon, the largest who’s ever lived. His name was-“
“Balerion. The Black Dread,” she interrupts him, immediately regretting so afterwards.
Instead of scolding her like she expected him to do, he merely breathes out a small laugh. Still, she feels the need to apologize, even as she stutters over her words.
“I apologize, my prince. At Storm’s End, we had a few tomes about the Conquest, and they interested me greatly.”
He hums. “Do not apologize. I like to know what you are thinking.”
She doesn’t know how to reply to this, heart pounding against her chest as she feels him step closer behind her, pressing into her back. He towers over her frame, hard and lean against her. His head bends, lips coming close to her ear.
“Are you afraid of me, my dear betrothed?”
“N-no,” she stutters out, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. Her eyes focus on the dragon skull before them, willing her heart to calm down. “No, my prince.”
He seems amused by her answer. “Liar.”
Another gasp escapes her mouth as his lips flutter over the shell of her ear, trailing down to the crook of her neck. He smells of smoke and steel, leather and something else she can’t put her finger on— but it’s intoxicating as it enters her nose, and she feels like nuzzling against him. Her fear won’t let her, nor will it let her move from his grasp, even as she shakes like a leaf under his hands, now resting atop her forearms.
“You avoid me. You can’t even look me in my eye,” he muses, lips still pressed against her skin. “You are shaking… am I so fearsome, Lady Baratheon?”
She whimpers, shaking her head, eyes growing wide as his grip tightens. “I’m sorry…”
His hand suddenly grabs ahold of her jaw, making her flinch, in which he lets out a disappointed tsk. Slowly, he turns her face towards his, fingers gentle against her rosy cheeks. She trembles as she meets his dark gaze, his lilac iris now a small ring, overtaken by his widened pupil. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his stare travels across her face, stopping on her lips.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, blinking. “No… quite the opposite. Will you let me show you?”
Deep within her stomach, something sharp twists, turning her blood hot as it pools within her veins. She is afraid, but another feeling unknown to her is slowly creeping up her spine, turning her brain into mush as she continues staring up at her betrothed. Her fingers reach up to grasp on his arm that’s wrapped around her, tightening around the leather of his sleeve. His gaze doesn’t move away, nor does he. Instead, he seems to draw closer, pressed against her back as his lips near hers. She can’t help but flutter her eyes closed, and before she can fully think about what she is agreeing to, she dips her chin down into a small nod.
Aemond’s lips immediately find hers, warm and plush, eager in his exploration. She has never been kissed before, and the feeling is foreign, but her pulse begins to thrum within her, and she opens her mouth to take more of it. He seems pleased by her reciprocation, groaning softly as he brushes his tongue against her teeth, his hand that still cups her jaw growing harsher. Their tongues slip against each other, a jolt of lightning hitting her every time they touch, her skin pebbled with goosebumps.
Growing restless, she spins around in his arms, hungry for something she doesn’t yet have a word for. Her arms wrap around his neck, and she has to push herself up onto her toes as she meets his lips once more, a clashing of teeth and spit. Between her legs, it grows hot, pulse thumping at her very core. She wants to climb on top of him and devour him, her fear of her mysterious prince melting away with every flick of his tongue. Is it supposed to feel like this?, she thinks, whimpering as she pulls him down closer by his neck.
When he pulls away, panting, she whines, her own chest heaving as she tries to breathe, but the throbbing between her thighs is so strong, she merely steps into his arms once more. He chuckles at this, looking down at his eager betrothed, flushed and nearly ravaged.
“I haven’t even shown you yet, and you’re already begging for more,” he muses, clicking his tongue mockingly. “What happened to my fearful little betrothed, hm?”
This sobers her up, her already flushed face turning a deeper shade of scarlet, and she staggers back on her feet. Aemond doesn’t let her go far, though, immediately grabbing ahold of her waist and pulling her back in. His hand brushes her hair back from her face, forcing her to look up at him once more, fingers firm in their hold. He smirks at the dazed look in her doe eyes, glassy as his words work through her mind on a loop. Though he should feel bad, he can’t help but relish her embarrassment. Hadn’t she been embarrassing him since her arrival, every time she would dart away from him and cower in fear just from his gaze?
“Please,” she whispers, swallowing a lump within her throat. His eyes seem to sparkle at her pleading.
He softly laughs. “Do you want me to touch you?” When she nods, eyebrows furrowed, “Use your words.”
Shame pools within her chest, squeezing around her heart as she continues to look up at him. Something inside her is begging to be released, pounding against her skull until every bone in her body rattles under its force. She doesn’t know what it is, or how to stop it, but her body draws itself closer to Aemond like he is the cure. Even now, as she gazes at his handsome face, all harsh lines and pouted lips, silver hair long and pulled back behind his head, eye a deep shade of violet, this thing within her only grows stronger in its fight to leave its prison. He is her betrothed, and a Prince of the realm, so who is she to deny him?
“Yes,” the word tastes like the sweetest poison on her tongue, and when he still makes no move to touch her, she continues. “Please, Aemond… touch me.”
She nearly cries when he smiles, leaning down to catch her lips, but her elation plummets when he doesn’t meet her embrace. Instead, his lips attach themselves to her jaw, tender as he licks and nips at the skin, traveling down her neck. Though she wants nothing more than his lips on hers, she still keens at the strange feeling, fingers tangling themselves into his long hair. His hands squeeze her hips, running up and down her sides, brushing against the bottom of her breasts. She arches into his touch, soft pants leaving her lips as he groans against her flesh.
Her feet start to step backwards as he pushes her, until she hits the stone wall behind her. His lips move to her heaving bosom, where the tops of her breasts sit within her dress, while his hand moves under her skirts, trailing along the bare skin of her thighs. They tremble beneath his touch, shutting close and trapping him there. He merely brings his leg between them, prying them back open so his hand can continue its journey to her weeping core. She shakes beneath him, sweat gathering at her brow, eyes pleading.
Aemond shushes her, bringing his lips back to hers, sighing as she pulls him closer and slips her tongue between them. When his hand slips under her undergarments, fingers nestling among her damp curls, she almost sobs, hips bucking up in shock. His other hand grabs onto her waist, stilling her movement as his fingers glide through her wetness, gathering the pool of arousal that sits along her hole. Her chest heaves, head dizzy with the new feeling, and she feels as if a bolt of lightning, white hot and blinding, has struck her. Hands grasp onto his shoulders for purchase, nails digging into the dark leather of his tunic, frantic as she looks for something to steady her racing heart.
“Seven hells, you’re soaked,” he gasps, fingers pressing against the apex of her, rubbing tight circles. “And here I thought you were afraid of me…”
She can barely comprehend his words, feeling as if her head is stuck in a cloud of smoke, heady and all-consuming. Her hands run down his shoulders and arms, now gripping onto his slim waist, pressing his body closer to her. His pale neck hovers over her face, and she can’t help but gravitate towards the unmarred skin, pressing her quivering lips to the base. Her tongue darts out to taste him, whimpering as she tries once more to move her hips. Aemond grunts, moving his fingers down to circle her leaking hole, the tip of his middle finger pressing in slowly.
As he presses the digit fully inside her, she presses her teeth into the nape of his neck, muffling her cry as he finally allows her to move her hips. He moans softly, grunting out her name at the feel of her bite, and she can feel something hard against her lower stomach, burning as it presses itself more to her. Tears spring to the corners of her starry eyes, tongue coming out once more to lick at the stinging bite mark she left, before resting her lips against him, panting. Her hips jolt upwards continuously, his name leaving her mouth like a prayer.
“Will you let me taste you?,” he nearly whines, rough voice cracking. His nose nudges against her temple. “Hm… ivestragī aōha dārilaros sylutegon ao, dōna riña.” (Let your prince taste you, sweet girl).
She gasps out, head nodding, though she’s not sure what she is agreeing to. Even so, she still wretches out, “y-yes.”
Aemond groans once more, pressing his lips to her forehead, before removing his fingers from her core. He’s quick to bend down on his knees, hands lifting up her skirts, dipping his head under the heavy fabric. She furrows her brows in confusion, but her question dies on her tongue as she feels his hot mouth press against her cunt, warm and wet. A strangled moan leaves her, and she throws her head back to stare up at the darkness above, lips parted as she gasps and whines. His tongue feels hot as it slips through her folds and circles her entrance, slurping up her arousal which practically pools out of her.
She can barely comprehend what is happening, her knees wobbly and her brain turned to mush, and all she can remember is his name. It leaves her lips like an incantation, continuously and fervently. Her hands try their best to gather her skirts, lifting them up and away from Aemond’s face, wishing to see him between her thighs. First, she spots a sliver of silver hair, and then, when she pulls the fabric back further, the rest of his head comes into view. His eye is closed, his focus solely on her cunt and how his tongue dips in and out of her. Fingers come up to rub at her once more, a deep grumble leaving him and vibrating through her core.
Something foreign begins to bubble up inside her, burning in its trail and cutting her open like a sharp sword. Her breath catches in her throat, chest heaving and heart stuttering against her ribcage, hips bucking up to chase the rising wave within her. Aemond flattens his tongue against her, another rumble leaving him, making her cry out. He opens his eye, staring up at her disheveled figure, his gaze molten and hungry. This look, and the feeling of him crooking a finger inside her once more, breaks her, and she moans and shudders, vision turning blurry as she’s pulled down under her cascading pleasure.
“Sȳz riña…” he groans, lapping up her essence as it flows out and onto his tongue. “Good fucking girl.”
Once she comes back down, she can barely keep standing, legs weakened and eyes heavy with sleepiness. Aemond stands, a satisfied hum leaving him as he pulls her against him, nose nuzzling in her hair. Instead of fear, she feels comfort as she rests in his arms, head resting on his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. When he begins to trail kisses down her face, before capturing her lips with his own, she feels like swooning. Is this what she had been missing all along? Her betrothed… not someone to fear, but someone she could grow to love?
Aemond pulls away, fingers coming up to rest against her lips. “Taste yourself, dārilaros.” (Princess).
Timidly, she wraps her lips around his two digits, tongue cautious as it swirls around them. His gaze is dark as he watches her, and when he removes his fingers, he replaces them with his mouth, hot as it claims her own. On her hip, she can still feel that same stiffness against her, but she doesn’t question it as he finally steps away from her, a small smirk on his handsome face.
“In just a few days, we will be wed, my lady. When I take you to my bed, I will spend all night showing you why you shouldn’t fear me.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months ago
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we share that really
for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt ‘band politics’
rated t | 905 words | no cw | tags: famous corroded coffin, reunion tour, future fic, steddie dads, everyone has a family and is happy
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Their label said it was too soon to do a reunion tour. They were only in their early 40s and had only been officially “broken up” for ten years.
But they were all in the right place: married, children who were old enough to come on tour but still young enough to be excited about it, and writing music that meant more to them than anything they’d done before.
Rumors had swirled for years after they announced their break up. None of them saw it as a breakup, more an early retirement that let them focus on building their lives. Fans and media alike hadn’t stopped coming up with other reasons for it: Gareth had been in love with Eddie for years and finally said something which caused friction, Jeff’s wife had threatened to divorce him if he didn’t take time off, Frankie had a drinking problem that was spreading like a viral disease.
None of it was even close to true.
The one and only reason for all of them was that they wanted to focus on their families for a while.
They stayed in touch, almost more than when they were on tour together. Jeff and Gareth lived in the same neighborhood, and Frankie bought an RV so he could come visit as often as he wanted. Eddie had traveled for a very extended honeymoon with Steve for nearly a year before finally settling an hour away, halfway between his favorite people and Steve’s favorite person.
They still played together at least once a month, a full set and any new stuff someone brought with them.
So when they all agreed it was time to come back and record a new album and do a tour, it wasn’t really a reunion so much as an excuse to be even closer for a while.
The label was thrilled, willing to give everyone their own tour bus so their families could come with them for the US part of the tour.
One thing none of them were prepared for was the media following the announcement.
“Is it true that you only just reconciled after years of legal battles about rights to songs?” A journalist from Rolling Stone asked.
Gareth snorted. “Not even a little, dude. We’ve been best friends this entire time.”
“So there was never any issue with Eddie being the most famous?”
Everyone looked over at Eddie, who was making faces at his youngest daughter at the side of the stage. Jeff leaned into his mic and gestured over to him.
“None of us have ever had a problem with him being the face of the band. We’re here to make music and perform, not fight over who gets to be in the center of pictures,” he said. “Plus, none of us would wanna deal with what he deals with on a daily basis. He’s not that interesting, I promise.”
Everyone laughed as Eddie turned back to the crowd with a smile. “I’m super boring. Just ask my kids.”
"So you don't mind that he gets creative control?" Another reporter asked.
They all shared looks with each other before Eddie leaned forward into his microphone to answer.
"I don't have creative control. We all share it. We all share everything. That's the point of a band like ours. Sometimes I know what sounds best for a guitar solo, sometimes Jeff does. Sometimes Gareth writes a chorus that people will sing along to, sometimes Frankie does. We've never had any of that lead person bullshit no matter what the media wants to show," Eddie drummed once on the table. "Are there any questions about the upcoming album and tour or is everyone here gonna keep asking about shit that isn't true?"
"Language!" Steve yelled from the side of the room.
Everyone laughed and Eddie waved him off.
They got more questions about the album and the tour and it finally seemed like everyone was done asking about band politics until the very end.
"So will Eddie still be the lead guy for the reunion?" Someone from the back asked.
Eddie banged his head against the table.
"Alright, thanks everyone! We'll see you on tour!" Gareth yelled as he pulled Eddie's arm so they could all exit the stage.
"They want us to hate each other so bad," Frankie shook his head.
"Look at this face," Gareth said as he grabbed Eddie's jaw in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips pouted out. "Who could hate this face?"
"Shit!" A small voice exclaimed from behind them.
Eddie turned to see his youngest daughter smiling up at him and Steve standing next to her with his hands on his hips.
"You're right, sweetie. Daddy's in deep shit," Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's cheek. "And he is so sorry for breaking the no bad words rule today. He really is."
"Our fearless leader appears to be absolutely fucked," Jeff said as he started to walk towards his wife and kids.
Gareth trailed behind him in search of his own family.
Frankie punched Eddie's shoulder. "Good luck, big guy."
"Everyone hates me, call the media and tell them they were right," Eddie pouts.
Steve rolls his eyes and picks up their daughter, walking away.
Eddie turns to his twins. "Well, you guys don't care if I say shit."
"You said worse while getting ready this morning."
"And I'll say worse again! Let's get out of here."
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ladybyakuya · 4 months ago
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IS WHAT LOVE IS ? | GEN NARUMI.
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+cw.— omegaverse au ( alpha!male x beta!reader ) + roommates au + college / university au, gen narumi x f!reader, fast burn ( we don't appreciate it enough ), world building, angst & hurt, smut, mentions of alcohol, bullying, blood and physical injuries.
+syn.— When college got busy with upcoming internships, classes became hectic, sleep schedule got fucked up and exam stress piled on: gen narumi sought blissful comfort in your presence. However, the same can not be said about you.
+wc. —5k ( dw I think I'll often talk about this in my main.) 
+playlist. — affection by between friends \ no love in L.A by dutch melrose \ fire by jvke \ is this what love is by wasia project.
+notes. — one of my favourite things to get things done by challenging myself so please be kind to me if you feel my writing is little off or not fitting my general pattern. thank you, enjoy reading. | redirect to blog navigation.
+tags. — into the omegaverse collab by @goxjo + other tags : @sukirichi @to-eden @stunie @interstellar-inn
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[ one. ]
"We should fuck,"  Narumi announces walking into the dorm room half-clad in the towel and boxers freshly showered, clusters of hair falling onto his face, wet and aromatic opening the door with a bang. Still, it failed to startle you like it generally does. His arm is still holding the door open as you try immersing yourself more into the university website that is spread open on your laptop attracting a fair amount of attention. A barely visible deft amongst his eyebrows arises as his presence remains unbeknownst to you even after he clears his throat. Are beta's senses that dull? 
You take the bluetooth earphones off your ears. "Did you say something?" you pose the question as if you are aware of his presence just now. 
Letting his fingers skim through his wet hair he grumbles, "We should fuck," with pinnable irritation in his voice not that you would know why he is being cranky. 
It is your turn to be silent. Your eyes switch over to the calendar hanging on the wall right beside him. It is still two weeks for Gen before he starts to show the bare minimum signs of an approaching rut. Besides, he has never been this ridiculous. "Did the summer heat finally take your sanity?" you exclaim with a scoff returning the annoyance right back at him but respectable enough to look at him as you spoke. Your phone chimes followed by a vibration and Narumi is forced to cover one of his ears with the arm that has been holding the door all the while; his other ear suffers the damage.
"How many times did I tell you to tone it down a few notches?" He gets inside finally closing the door. All you could spare for response is nothing but a glance of unease. Who is he to tell you what to do and what not? You put your notebooks and a few things in your bag as his whistle finally blows off. "It's been two years already. when are you going to finally give in to my alpha charms, huh? I know that you are no strangers to the modern ideas of mating. I mean you are quite active so why don't we just celebrate the last year of graduation being fuck buddies rather than just roommates?"  You roll your eyes when you are still facing his back to him. You turn around to tuck your hair behind your ears making the bluetooth earphones visible. Holding up your fisted right wrist in his direction you tap on the watch two times and fist out your palm with all five fingers and Narumi just squits his eyes. Before he could make full sense of what you are conveying, you are already out of the door and Narumi knows better than anyone that you love listening to music at high volumes without interruption. Maybe you do so because you are a beta or you are sad or annoyed about something. It couldn't be him, could it? Sometimes when the surroundings get too quiet and you are listening to music he can hear what song it is. 
Not that he is a fan of your music taste but he has rather expressed in preposterous ways to exhibit his distaste for your tastes, likes, and dislikes, sometimes even unasked for one and you were fine with it. You were fine with his obnoxious, rude, and rough behavior. Even in his class, he has a hard time getting along with his batchmates. Every once in a while he would come up with bloody knuckles or a bleeding nose, scratches in his face sometimes and you would have no other choice but to tend to his wounds. You never bothered to ask how he got hurt or why he hurt others and he never decided to divulge. Being at the top of the university has prevented him from getting expelled. The professors are fed up with him but are willing to put up with him only because he is sincere in his studies. And, he is surprisingly good at it given his nature. Sharing a room for almost more than two years with an alpha like Gen Narumi is not a cakewalk, especially for a beta like you. Even before moving into the dorm room, you knew that you would either be paired with an omega or an alpha. You knew what you were getting into and with the advancement of medicinal chemistry cohabitation with other species of your kind has become easier than before yet the primal urges never really fade, do they? After all, what is more dangerous than an unmated alpha? 
You check the time. You are so early for someone who has an interview for the first time. You sit with the other candidates without a slice of panic in your body. Thanks to Gen for nuking your attention into something that you would never expect in nightmares or another universe. Like what the fuck was that? What kind of question was that? Was that even a question? As for a fact, an alpha's desire is too innate to ignore. And with the amount of patience stored in Gen Narumi's body if anything was possible it would have happened in the first few months of college year. Wait a minute! is he finally asking you out after trying to hide it for almost two years? If yes, that would certainly explain why one time he gave you cologne on your birthday which would complement his scent too. Not only that, it would surely explain how he snuggles to you during movie nights, or on liquid nights he would almost spoon you when his ruts were approaching he was too broke to buy video games. But at the same time, you can not completely claim those actions as an act of pursuit of seeking a potential mate in you since it was just an extremely rare occurrence. 
You remember the time when both of you just came from an exam semester party being too drunk, high, and happy to change or freshen up. Both of you just passed out on the nearest bed to the door of the room and you swear you felt a graze of something sharp upon the nook of your neck. But you swiped that thought at the back of your mind thinking it as a dream or some bad alcoholic effect. That night you woke up with Narumi in your bed sleeping like a log, a loud log to be specific. You have always given him space during his ruts since it works better that way; rather than arguing to come to a truce. That's how you have always been. That's how betas had to be. You would always find him buried under a futon with bloodshot with a game controller in his hand, and a lot of junk food packets all around the room yet you chose to give him space because that is how you avoid alphas like him; the more you indulge with him, the greater the chances to be under his target radar. 
"Y/N L/N is next. Be prepared." the mic announces breaking the pensive silence and your reverie of thoughts for a mere blinking moment.
On the first day when you moved in you clearly stated that you would file a complaint if he ever tried to scent you, mark you during his ruts. He just joked saying, "So, it's okay when I'm not in a rut?" but you would not budge or answer him so he mentioned in a sing-songy tone, "Oh don't worry. Betas are hard to influence. You should know that darling.  Plus, you are not exactly my type." with a smug so loud on his face that you wished you could throw something at his face but engaging with him would give him a crack to widen the gulf, explore and test waters. . .you know better than that. But since unlike other alphas, he listened to it, he abided by it, he sustained it—- well tried to or he was just poking the bear for fun. He often does that when he is out of video games. 
That is how you have always maintained a boundary between him and you. 
Gen Narumi finds it impenetrable. You think all the things he does, he does it out of respect which is not exactly true. There is respect but just a pinch. Sharing a room with a beta wouldn't be too bad. That's what he thought when he came to know about you. He did mention in his admission form that he would not like an omega as his roommate but he did not expect it to be beta. It could have been an alpha or a zeta, someone either loud or too mute. Mediocrity has always been a foreign concept to him. And what's up with "do not scent me or mark me." as if he would be interested in such things. He is not like other alphas. Some alphas spend their ruts giving in to their urges while some take suppressants. Gen Narumi belongs to neither of them. He spends his ruts eating junk and playing video games. works both ways actually. It has always been like that since he was expressed as alpha in society. What would he do to a beta? or that's what he thought. 
This morning when he said, well, suggested that you and him should fuck he was possessed perhaps. Why on earth would he say that? It does not make any sense because never in two years he has thought or even looked at you with a splotch of romance. Most of the alphas in his batch have already found a mate or maybe were forced to. He might be the only unmated alpha in this university which is why lesser potential omegas approach him. An unmated alpha is always seen under the lens of threat. And, if they came to know how he spends his ruts, they would not even acknowledge him as an alpha. At the start of the college year, he would often end up bullied by other alphas because of that. The last thing he wants to do is to use his pheromones on others. Why would he waste it on others? He doesn't exactly know for what or whom he is saving it. He would come to the room late whenever he got into a fight. One time he was so tired of all the bullying that he did not even try to defend himself or scare them away. By the time he reached the dorm room,  he was too hurt to breathe properly. That night Gen Narumi came to know that even a beta can calm an alpha, and nurse them into good health if needed. He was too hurt to protest or say anything, all he could do was to imbibe your scent while you were taking care of him. Even betas have a smell. Did you do that on purpose? release pheromonic signals to calm him? Would it be so hard to believe if he were to say that most alphas took their roommates as mates? He can certainly try, at the very least he will get a good laugh out of your reaction. If you did that on purpose he has a chance to show other alphas that he is actually an alpha not that he cares what they say but since you showed your interest in him in a puzzled way he would certainly try to match your level. wouldn't this be a win-win situation if he fucked you? For you, for him, and others as well; it certainly would. That's right. This morning you did not pay enough attention to him so he will say it again just so he can reject you. That's what an exceptional alpha would do. He is exceptionally good at gaming and studies though so he can not see why he should let this opportunity slip through his hands like sand.
You open the door with the help of keys while holding your bag in one hand and your cell phone in the other. Gen does not leave his seat to hold the door rather graces you a glance and goes back to whatever he is doing. 
“Yeah. I’ll definitely call you back, Hoshina-san.” you disconnect the call and Gen’s eyes are on you. He does not look away so you took it as a cue to explain something, anything. He just needs some info to be fed so that he does not start again. “Hoshina Soshiro is gonna be my supervisor if I get the job. The interview wasn’t so bad but I don’t wanna get my hopes up. He is one of the best and doing an internship under his guidance would be a great start. ”
“Stay away from that guy,” Gen grumbles looking back at his desk. It is unusually neat today. Not to mention his futon bed is folded and kept on his bed in a side enough that one can sleep peacefully without any problem. You would have said something to him if your attention did not keep faltering . . .Gen rolls his revolving chair in your direction, one of his legs is touching the wheels of the chair while the other is stretched creating a huge gap. His left-hand travels under his t-shirt and it hooks on his right shoulder.  "we should fuck," he declares, inept and inert.
"oh god! Not again" you let out a groan and sit on the bed near to you. Your head is in hands not because of what he said or what he did, not even because your patience is thinning with each tick of the clock enough to not to put up with this anymore but because of what is about to come out of his mouth the next.
"So, you heard me the first time ?" he barks while leaving his chair. You just wave your hand nonchalantly in a gesture to dismiss him but he locks his hands in his chest taking a stern stance in front of you.
You tilt up your head looking him in the eye, "You know Gen we shouldn't do this," your elbows rest on your thighs as you start to scratch your index finger with the other.
"don't you mean can't? you can't do this?" Is he serious? Isn’t he joking? Oh God. Why isn’t he joking like he generally does? Maybe a reaction would keep him quiet but what kind? A yes? A no? Or a laugh?
"you know better than others that I can fuck, literally too sometimes." You exclaim hoping to judge if this is really serious or just some sort of prank. If the latter, then it's not funny. If the former, then you might have to consider moving out. You get up from his bed to grab towels and bathroom needs."Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. Maybe I need to prove to someone that I'm an alpha." Gen regrets saying that. Your hands have stopped as you look at him which rarely happens. You never do one thing at a time. Fuck! You’re still looking at him. Gen unlocks one of his hands and scratches his jaw. 
"well, you chose a very wrong person to fuck, to prove then. I despise alphas. I would be much happier if you weren't one," That’s a little harsh, even from you. 
"as if a beta like you could get me hard." You keep the shampoo and conditioner bottle on the desk with much greater force than needed. Here it comes. . .Oh okay.
"Well, have you been with Beta before?" Gen tries to dodge the bullet because this is not the direction of conversation he wants to go. "that's exactly my point-" 
"an omega?" you pause and take a few steps towards him "An alpha?"  
“Wha—t? What’re — you talking — about?” Gen blabbers. He does not step away as you come closer but he has the urge to do so.
"god. Please find someone else to lose your virginity." You turn around the moment you finish deciphering his goal. Gen starts to growl underneath everything that comes out of his mouth now. "me being an alpha won't affect you being a beta if we were to fuck. and I don't wanna hurt an omega or alpha—His patience is thinning out too. This really isn’t the way he wanted this to go.
"But you'd hurt me?"
"That's not what I meant,"
"Are you a virgin, Gen Narumi?"
"Yes—I mean no." He glitches and now he can not look at you.
"Which is it?"
". . ." 
"I'm too tired to think about it now," you express with an exasperated sigh walking towards the bathroom.
"Is that a yes?"
"maybe be,"
"forget it." His tone is too sharp, demanding for someone who was begging you to fuck.
"What?" You stop before entering the bathroom and turn your head to him. "forget it" He repeats. You tilt your head, "But you just said. . ." you are starting to understand what this is really about. He does not want to fuck you neither want to lose his virginity or whatever he is trying to protect. It is his alpha ego acting up. He wants you to say yes so that he can reject you so that it strokes his alpha-nature. That’s it.
Your face distorts in disdain in his dense thought process.
Gen Narumi squints his eyes and then blinks. When he opens his eyes you are in front of him. You push him onto the nearest bed, your bed, and sit on his lap, legs folded and creating a dip on the mattress under the pressure of it, thighs grazing his pelvis.
"what're you doing?" Gen gasps as you let your palms touch his chest. He is gonna explode. His heart is beating so fast. You can feel it. Oh My God. You didn’t think this through.
"Well, let's see if a beta can get you hard or not." 
You undress your top. You are not an omega. There is no stench. But your scent is so muted that he has to either influence you to emit some or get closer to inhale. The first option is a no-no because he would not like to anger you while you are on his lap. So, he has to get closer. Wait, closer than this? The smell from that night threatens his senses and memory. Before the realization fully hits his brain, his hand moves in your direction but you stop him. Did you do something wrong? Both hands are now aligned with his. You notice how your hands are different from his. His fingers are rough and raw. Yours are at least, well-maintained. You slowly interlace his fingers with yours folding his hands at the back. He could easily swat you away but he is not doing that. You lean into his face and he does not move away so you take that as a yes to lick from his collarbones up to his chin and immediately pull away. 
Narumi’s eyes are closed, head still tilted. Without giving him a moment of reprieve you let your lips graze on his, just barely, and pull away just a little, wet yours and thereby skimming at his bottom lip in the process. He opens his eyes, slowly looks at you, and then your lips. He is breathing like a tired puppy. He inclines, perhaps for a kiss but you sway your head giving him access to the side of your neck. As you graze your cheek against his jaw, his hands that are still at the back are held by you but it is slowly getting lithe as you feel his lips on your shoulders, hot tongue on your skin, and then a sharp graze of his fang from your shoulder up to the back of your ear. You tip your head down for a moment feeling goosebumps arise on your skin barely allowing him any moments of reprieve, only permitting a rare moment to breathe. You watch Narumi intently, unafraid to make things awkward, but Narumi is too distracted by his inner crisis to notice the amused stare mere centimeters from his face; studying him.
The tip of your tongue curls slowly but forcefully, tracing the plump of your bottom lip before sliding across Gen’s own and trailing the roof of his mouth. Eyes watching intently. Controlled. Curious. Amused. But then you abruptly pull away, lips shiny and wet. Before Narumi can ask why, your lips curl in on themselves, hiding a smug smile. It looks like you can’t catch your breath — like if you do, you will erupt into laughter. But a lopsided grin finally breaks free, tugging at your lips, when your eyes flash down to Narumi’s torso and back up.
Narumi freezes, heart, hammering in his ribs.
He’s hard.
“That was fast,” You smirk — and you stand. “I’m going to shower now.” you release your grip from his hands and get off his lap.  Gen watches you go into the bathroom and looks down at his boner biting his bottom lip; a click of his tongue follows as he checks the time. It is too late to go out now.
when you come out of the shower he is not there. A part of you worries if he got into a fight or something or maybe he is with his big hot alpha friends bragging about how he turned you down. You hit the bed with a thud, exhaustion creeping up from your toe to head, slowly. You do not give a damn what he says about you to other alphas or anyone in general. A beta will always have to watch out for themselves. They can not rely upon anyone, not even their kind because most betas are dumb enough to mingle with alphas and get turned into omega with or without consent.
Look what fate landed upon your mother when she took an alpha as her mate. You let out a wry chuckle. Sleep seems like a foreign land somewhere in heaven.
[ two. ]
It has been two days since Narumi left. Some of his batchmates have started to ask you during recess and breaks between classes. You answered them the same thing every time. “I don’t know.” or “he didn’t tell me before going.” or “How should I know? I’m not his mate who can sense it. Go find his mate.” or “he didn’t take his phone. So I don’t know.” truly it had not bothered you until Professor Shinomiya showed up at your doorstep asking for his whereabouts. You politely and patiently answered him the same very thing that you have been telling anyone who asked about Narumi. For a hated unmated alpha he sure is popular.
On the third day, late at night, there is a knock on your door. You go and open without hesitation. Narumi enters wearing the same clothing he wore the last time you saw him, only a little fade. His hair is wet and it is not raining outside so he comes back after going missing for two days, freshly showered. Bloodshot eyes, hair messed up, and mayhem all over his body.
“Welcome back.” You say but Gen does not say anything but goes straight to his study desk. He has a test coming up. Professor Shinimiya said that so you would contact him if you had the means. Your day-to-day notebook is on his study table, under the stack of his books, and guess what? That is exactly what you need the most right now because without it you would not be able to work on your applications and resumes. It has all the details and info you. The moment you touch the stack of books, Narumi’s hands are over yours.
“Are you—-? Where were you ?” You ask and For the first time in your life, you feel that something inside you went missing. When did that happen?
Gen stands up but you do not scoot away as he closes the gap between him and you. That’s what he likes about you. You were never afraid of him. You never considered him as a threat like others. Now, that he is closer you can smell several mixes of strong musky aromas. It is odd. You have been close to him before, but never once knew his scent. Is he in a rut?  Or did something bad happen? Did he. . .? Was he attacked by a gang of omegas or alphas? It makes your stomach turn thinking about whatever the probable reason for such a state as his. 
“Oh? You can tell?” There is a few inches gap between his face and yours. His palm is still intact on yours. The grip is lithe yet you don’t move your hand away.
“Gen? What? OH. God.” You had to swallow since tears threatened your eyes. “Are you okay?” A trembling whisper is all it takes for him to finally say something.
“Leave.”
“What?”
“Just leave for a few days. Go to some friend’s house or something,” He is still sitting, his eyes are on the open book now but his hand is still over yours.
“Why? What did I do?” You ask trying to move away your hand but in a swift moment, he grabs your wrist and pulls you closer as he stands up. 
“I’m — in a rut. So, I need you to stay away from me.”
“But — I’m a beta. You don’t need to worry.”
That is funny. It is because of you that he is such a shipwreck now. It was your pheromones that fucked him up. It was you who calmed him with scents when he came home injured. It was you who had no control over pheromones when drunk. It was you all along and despite that, he can not bring himself to hate you. Why can’t he hate you when he wants to? He even took a whole bunch of suprresants before coming back here. Gen laughs at your naive sentiment so blaring that you take a few steps back but he yanks you back to himself, a little too forceful than he intended to be resulting in you on top of him sprawled on the cold floor.
“Ohh? Why do you think I rub my fangs against your neck? You don’t think I do that for fun, do you?” You are still trying to get away from his grip but he is strong. He is stronger than you have known all these two years. “Are you too dumb to know that if I bite and knot you enough times you will turn into an o—
Thwack!
Narumi’s head is tilted away from yours. The exposed side of his cheek is red, his ears are thrumming and he has to force himself to keep his eyes open. Fuck. You’re strong. That was one hell of a slap.
“I know that. I’ve known that all my life. You don’t need to tell me that,” you yell looking down at his t-shirt. A cry is at the brink when you see a few drops of water fall on his top.  You try your best not to fall apart in front of him but it is just too much. Hearing such a thing what your mother went through and then slowly becoming a victim of it is nothing but a slow poison. You refuse to live the life your mother led. You refuse to owe your existence to an alpha. 
Narumi’s lips form a crescent but it is quickly clouded when your body starts to shake. You cover your face as you start to crumble like Rome in front of him. 
Folding his legs he sits up. His hands rest on the floor to support himself as he whispers, “Hey, stop crying.”  His voice is calm, pupils back to normal, not red anymore. “Please” He insists. “I’d hate to use my pheromones on you, especially now” 
You slowly look up wiping off your tears with your hand.
“Tell me y/n have I ever used my pheromones on you?” 
“No. Never.” Your hands fall on his chest. “But I still hate you. Why would you say something like that?” You stifle a sob and continue. “I know. I’ve never opened up to you—-” Your voice turns up, anger laced underneath. “But never did you. You think I don’t know—- that alphas bully you? Oh please! I know better than anyone what an alpha’s beating looks like.” You inhale a long breath, “I mean I have known that my entire life. I’ve seen my mother all my life— and I can’t see someone else getting hurt because of me . . . your voice breaks into a cry again and you inhale so as not to cry anymore but what good that would do now that he has seen the core of vulnerability in you that was tucked inside carefully with layer upon layer.
“Well,” Narumi starts to speak. “Save me then. Save me from this torment.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Narumi jocks down to meet your gaze. “Be my God and I will be your devotee.”
You try to get on your feet. Gen’s eyes follow you, each of your movements until you are standing on your own. He is still sitting on the floor in the same stance, laid back and amused.  He is sure you will say no. He has done this before. Back then you thought he was speaking out of delirium but that night when you saved his life he felt like he found a God to worship. He remembers saying, “I think I love you, Y/N L/N.” and you scoffed at him saying in no world an alpha like you would feel that about a beta like you when there is a bevy of omegas around him.
“Okay.” You murmur.
Gen’s mouth is parted. His eyes are big in surprise. “But just so you know, I’m hard to please,” you mumble with a sniff getting out of the room to make a call.
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kkami-writes · 1 year ago
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that hufflepuff boy
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pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum
disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)
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The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.
Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter. 
So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary. 
You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him. 
As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display. 
“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing. 
And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.
By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did. 
You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book.  “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back. 
“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.
“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”
“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin. 
“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now. 
“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”
“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name. 
As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream. 
“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red. 
“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.
“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.
Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.
“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”
“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,” 
“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.
“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.
“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,” 
“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?” 
(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about.  “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”
“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”
“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs. 
“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”
“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”
Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow. 
But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.
By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls. 
Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes. 
Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach. 
So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay. 
“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.
“Hi Felix,” 
“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.
“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,” 
“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”
“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?” 
You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.) 
Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff. 
Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 
“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.
“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday. 
After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work. 
Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming. 
The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much. 
“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,” 
“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”
“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”
“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.
The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could. 
Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand.   It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library. 
“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year. 
His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together. 
His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.
You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips. 
It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge. 
“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 
You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head. 
With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded. 
He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping. 
Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like. 
“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.
You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers. 
He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.
“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk. 
“You’re not getting these back,” 
Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.
He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. 
“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build. 
When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him. 
“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth. 
“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning. 
“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,” 
He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.
“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.
“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you. 
“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.
“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.
His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.
“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts. 
“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars. 
It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are. 
When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms. 
Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine. 
He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.
“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”
2K notes · View notes
heizours · 7 months ago
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CHARACTER BANNERS
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summary. when you do not plan to pull for their character banner
tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur
cw. one mention of 'die' (dottore), petty and sulky genshin men (all of them i may say)
feat. xiao, itto, dottore, venti, scaramouche
note. the head picture is how i imagine their reaction ☠️
< back to event m.list
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INTRO.
Recently, you've been saving up primogems for an upcoming new character banner that Hoyoverse is planning to release in the next version of the game.
Gosh you were so excited!
It's not like you wanted to pull for the character just because she was attractive. Definitely not.
Even if it takes a lot of time to earn those gems, you were willing to go through it as long as the system better give you that character you are pulling for.
"I can't wait to pull for Navia!"
You squealed in excitement, logging in the game as her banner awaits for you, ignorant of a certain chatacter just eavesdropping around the system.
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XIAO.
Xiao's banner was having a rerun along with the release of Navia's, and while he may not brag it out loud, he had some silent expectations that you were going to pull for him again.
After all, he is proud to be your first five star chatacter, and ever since then he has been on your team and never removed.
To hear you say that you're going to pull for Navia instead of him made him grunt quietly as he let out a quiet huff behind the screen.
"...Well, she is a good character" he admitted while grumbling under his breath, crossing his arms by now as he watched you pull and pull for Navia's banner, only getting the four stars but no sign of a five star yet.
Is he...sulking? oh yes, Xiao believes so as there was a tiny slight pout on his as he looked away, trying his best to not be affected by the fact that Navia might show up at your screen anytime now.
So while you're at it, better save some primos to pull for his rerun banner too, you wouldn't want a sulking Xiao, right?
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ITTO.
After pulling a few strings and fails in the wishing system, Itto was celebrating his victory after ensuring that his banner would have a rerun.
However, that satisfaction immediately crumbled down the moment he heard you saying that you are pulling for Navia instead for him again.
What makes it even worse, is he felt confident that you were going to pick him, and now...he doesn't know if he should throw a tantrum about it or blame the system that he had a rerun the same time with a new character.
"What?! Hey, what about me?" He yelled out from behind the screen, which of course you couldn't hear, as Itto let out a dramatic gasp by the revelation.
Is he making this a big deal? Yes, Itto is making this a big deal, because after all Navia is also a geo character, of course he would somehow feel intimidated that she would take his place in your team.
Best believe that when you are finish with your pulls, don't be surprised that he would not budge leaving your team— trying to replace him with Navia, even if you are already clicking the remove button!
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DOTTORE.
The doctor was confident that you were saving up those primogems for him considering that his banner hasn't been released yet, nor the gaming system haven't made any announcement about his builds, constellation, marketing drip, etc.
Imagine his reaction when he overheard that you were pulling for Navia, and those primogems for her and not his. He could not hide the disbelief that crossed over his face.
He'll recover shortly after, and just laughed it off strainly as we watched you spending every gem you had saved on Navia's banner, no sign of the blondie woman yet showing up on your screen.
"And here, I thought I was what you are waiting for" He mumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth slightly in the process, keeping a forced smile on his face.
He would rather die than admit it, but this revelation had left a big wound on his pride, and he is a millisecond away of just straight up disrupting the system's controls if it means you get to play him.
Of course that would take some time, but he hopes that you're just as amused as him if he keeps joining you on doing your quests out of nowhere that doesn't even involve him in the first place ;)
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VENTI.
It took so long for Venti to finally have this moment again, and he was more than glad to show up on your screen, on your first pull, on his rerun banner.
One second he was smiling and all giddy, but as you dropped the statement that you are pulling for Navia like a bomb, his smile freezed, his whole body freezed as he sweatdropped.
Not just freezed, you know those kind of special effects in an anime series when a character messes something up, does something awkward or expected something but gets embarass instead, and suddenly they turn into a whole block of ice? Yeah, something like that.
"..Oh, right her! I've heard a lot about her!" He stated, trying to keep up with his cheerful-go-to persona, as Venti awkwardly scratched the side of his neck while watching you spend those gems on her banner, still no luck of the five star geo character.
He failed to continue showing jolly facade, because now he is sulking at the corner as if it is the end of the world, almost as if a big tub of water was dunk upon him.
Please forgive him if he'll be out of character and maybe acting a little petty on your end for the next few hours or days while playing the game. It's not his fault you didn't also pulled on his rerun!
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SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER.
Scaramouche carries himself with such confidence and prides himself being a part of your team after you pulled on his first banner.
He was smirking with boldness, and eyes closed in satisfaction as he awaits and is all ready for you to pull on his rerun this time. That is until his mouth twitched downward, as he opens his eyes in suspicion right after he heard that you were pulling instead for Navia.
He could not hide the displeased expression painted on his face, as he continues to watch you behind the screen, spend all the primogems you saved up only for her, and like an open book— he doesn't even realized that he is scowling. So far, you're only getting the four stars.
"What about me?" He mumbled under his breath, as he scoffed lightly and by now instead of continuing to frown, there was a slight pout forming on his lips, as he huffed and turned his head away, facing a corner refusing to watch further your pulls on the geo character.
He rejects to believe that he is mopping about as something as this, but his actions says otherwise. He doesn't even know why is so affected by this.
Whether you get Navia or not, make sure you also give him the attention he seeks! We wouldn't want a petty Wanderer disrupting your team's gameplay, no?
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eyesofshinigami · 9 months ago
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Boyfriend Privileges
Rating: T
CW: None
Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff
Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"
WC: 959
Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21
The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.
Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.
Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it. 
But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane. 
Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood. 
Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life. 
That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back. 
They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night. 
“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”
“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-
“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.
Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…” 
Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”
“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…
Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in  the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. 
It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”
“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed. 
“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”
That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.
“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together. 
Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?” 
He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”
The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background. 
“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out. 
Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”
It’s worth the noise coming from the back.
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harrywavycurly · 9 days ago
Note
Hey I loved the bachelorette party in Malibu for Lonley series but can u do one where Harry has a bachelor party and yn stuck at home please I’m obbsed 😂💕
Hiii lovey!!! I’m glad you enjoy the series!!! I hope you like this, it was fun to write because the difference in how the two of them handle time away from each other is very funny😂💖
Find all things Lonely series here✨
CW: Language and mentions of drinking
Tag List: @blckburd @fangirl509east @ell0ra-br3kk3r @youngpastafanmug @mattieshattuck1
A/N: Harry is away for his bachelor party weekend while you’re at home and you get a surprise visitor, enjoy drunk Harry as well as some classic bestie banter✨
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You let out a sigh of content as you get comfortable on the couch before bringing your coffee mug up to your lips so you can take a sip, the house is quiet minus the gentle humming sound of the ice maker in the kitchen and the air conditioning that kicks on every now and then and you can’t help but sit there and enjoy the peacefulness of the quiet, at least while you can. You look at the clock on the wall in the kitchen and know that Harry should be landing in Vegas soon, Gemma having booked a morning flight so she could get in a few hours at the spa and a well timed nap before the nighttime festivities begin, most of which you have no idea about minus one little detail but that’s only because she drunkenly let it slip during your bachelorette trip a month ago.
You smile at the thought of Harry being surprised with a spa day, something you know he enjoys and will help him relax and the more relaxed he gets the more fun he will have as the evening goes on. That’s the thing with this weekend, you truly want Harry to have fun because he’s been spending way too much time fussing over you and the upcoming wedding recently that a night out without anything or anyone to worry about is what he deserves. And even though you had to practically drag him down the front steps to the car that was taking him to the airport this morning because he was “gonna miss you too much” and almost bought you a ticket on the spot to join him in Vegas, you know he’s going to end up having a good time.
You take another sip of your coffee when suddenly you hear a light beeping sound signaling to you that your front gate has been opened. You raise an eyebrow as you quickly lean over and place your mug on the coffee table before standing up and heading towards the kitchen so you can look at the fancy little tablet that shows all the security cameras, something Harry made sure to show you how to use before he left since this is technically your first time alone overnight in the house since moving in together. You mentally prepare yourself to see the same black SUV you watched him leave in this morning pulling into the driveway, but when you look at the screen you scrunch your brows together and bring the tablet closer to your face to get a better look at the car.
“What the-”
“Your fuckin’ gate hates me.” You look up from the tablet in your hands as Niall walks through your front door with a duffle bag. “I type in the code it gets all mad and beeps at me so then I type it in again and then it flashes red at me. So then I do it a third-why the bloody hell you got that thing so close to your face? You going blind or somethin?” He stops in the doorway of the kitchen with a slight look of concern on his face as his eyes land on you standing in the middle of the kitchen still holding the tablet a few inches from your face trying to see if that really is Niall’s car in your driveway or not.
“What are you doing here?” You watch him roll his eyes as he walks through the kitchen and into the living room where he drops his duffle bag down behind the couch.
“I live here.” Is all he says as he heads back into the kitchen and grabs himself a mug before going to the coffee pot. You just place the tablet back down onto the counter as you watch Niall make his way around the kitchen while making his coffee.
“Does my fiancé know that?” You ask with a hint of playfulness because you know Harry would have a field day if he heard Niall tell you he lived here, having reached a whole new level of jealousy ever since the two of you got engaged when it comes to your friendship with Niall.
“Oh what that lanky lad doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides it’s just for the weekend because I know he’s gone and you’ve never been alone here before so figured you could use the company.” You know he’s leaving something out as he gives his coffee a good stir before taking a sip of it all while looking everywhere but at you in the process.
“You didn’t get invited did you?” Niall’s face drops as he places his mug on the counter and lets out a sad dramatic sigh making you have to hold back a laugh.
“No.” He says with a groan. “Gem said she didn’t wanna risk Harry not having as good of a time with me there because he might be worried I’d run off and tell you everything but we both know that’s a load of bull because the man is gonna end up drunk off his ass by ten tonight and callin you up and telling on his own fucking self.” You put a hand over your mouth to try to hide your laughter but it’s no use because Niall just rolls his eyes as he grabs his mug and heads towards the living room.
“So you decided coming over here for the weekend was the best alternative?” You question as you follow him into the living room. He just shrugs as he sits down on the couch, placing an arm on the back of it so you can sit next to him and lean into his side for a little cuddle that you know he needs more than you do in this very moment.
“I figured no use in both of us being home alone when we could just be in your house together eating all Harry’s snacks and watching trashy telly.” You smile and you rest your head on Niall’s shoulder as he brings his mug up to his lips. “This coffee is gonna keep me awake for a week you absolute caffeine fiend.” He teases before taking another sip. “Tastes good though.” He mumbles as you reach for the remote so you can turn the tv on allowing the two of you to start your day of watching horrible reality television.
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“If she picks him then it proves she’s just after his money because it’s clear she doesn’t even like him she just tolerates him.” You huff as you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance making Niall let out a laugh from the kitchen.
The two of you have spent the day and a good portion of the evening watching some dating show and only have one episode left so Niall decided it was only fitting he make some cocktails to go with watching the finale and honestly having put up with the dramatics of the show and watching the main woman send home people the two of you thought were decent catches has made him need a drink or two. He is in the middle of squeezing a lime into your glass when he hears the sound of something vibrating against the marble of your kitchen counter, he raises an eyebrow when he notices your phone sitting there plugged into a charger near the coffee maker. Now Niall has been your bestfriend for quite a while, so he’s no stranger to checking your phone for you so he doesn’t think twice before he’s drying his hands off and walking over to see who’s messaging you but what he sees on your lock screen makes his eyes go wide.
“You have forty six unread-sorry now it’s forty seven unread texts? What the hell? Oh fuck now it’s fifty.” You let out a sigh as your head falls to the back of the couch while Niall unplugs your phone from the charge and heads into the living room with it in his hand.
“I don’t want to respond because then he’ll keep texting me and I want him to have fun and not be thinking about me.” Niall would agree that in theory your plan would work on anyone else but this is Harry you’re talking about and he knows how obsessed the man is with you and clearly based on the evidence of the amount of texts he’s sent without a single response from you, your plan is in fact not working.
“Right well I think that’s sweet and all that you want him to have fun but looking at these-uh he seems a bit stressed? Like proper freaking out.” You sit up and turn to look at Niall as he begins to read some of the texts Harry has sent and when you watch him roll his eyes you know they are probably a bit on the dramatic side. “Oh he’s totally drunk off his ass and it’s not even half past eleven.” He states as he scrolls down towards the last few messages he sent you.
“What’s he stressed-”
“And now he’s FaceTiming you.” You stand up and walk around the couch and reach for your phone but Niall just gives you a playful smirk and you instantly know what he’s about to do.
“Niall do not answer that.” You warn as you hold your hand out for him to hand you the phone but Niall just ignores you as he heads back into the kitchen and holds the phone up before he answers Harry’s FaceTime call.
“Baby-what the fuck’er you doin in my house?” Harry’s voice is low and a bit rougher than normal and you immediately know he’s working his way towards a nice buzz. “Why do you have my wife’s phone?” Niall rolls his eyes as he places your phone against the sink so he can go back to fixing the two of you some drinks.
“She’s not your wife yet mate and I’m here because that sister of yours didn’t invite me to your little weekend away so I came here to keep my bestfriend company.” You run a hand over your face as you hear Harry let out a groan at Niall’s correction of him calling you his wife.
“You don’t like spa days so you’d’ve hated it so far.” Niall sends Harry a glare as he grabs the bottle of tequila making Harry raise an eyebrow at him when he watches him pour more than a shots worth into each glass. “You tryin’a get her drunk?” He asks as you stand on the other side of the island watching Niall make your drink and making sure Harry can’t see you, at least not yet.
“You’re in the city of sin and all you’ve done is have a bloody spa day? God you’re such an eighty year old nan.” You can’t help but laugh making Niall shoot you a playful wink but that only causes Harry to let out a whine like noise because he can hear you but can’t see you which makes Niall roll his eyes. “I can’t with the sad puppy noises you’ve got to take him.” Niall says as he picks up the phone with one hand and hands it to you but with the screen still facing him. You send him a glare before you stick your tongue out at him making him laugh before he returns the gesture.
“I don’t want to see your tongue Niall-”
“Hi Harry.” You watch Harry’s face go from disgust to pure happiness in a matter of seconds when you turn the phone around allowing him to finally see your face.
“Baby I’m so happy you’re alive.” You just ignore Niall’s laugh as you make your way back into the living room to get comfortable on the couch. “You ignored me all day and s’not nice to ignore someone you love.” His voice is a mixture of playfulness and a bit of sadness as he pokes his bottom lip out in a dramatic pout.
“I wanted you to worry about having fun not about what I’m doing.” You explain as you take a moment to try to get a decent look at him through the screen but the way he has his phone in his hand all you can see is his face and a bit of the collar of his shirt. “Where are you right now?” You ask when you notice red strobe lights in the background, Harry turns his head and looks around as if he’s looking for the name of the establishment on the walls or anywhere near where he’s currently at.
“Uhm m’not sure? S’a bit dark in here but the people are very lovely.” You smile at the blush that appears on his cheeks as his eyes wonder over to something that’s going on in front of him that you can’t see.
“That’s code for the girls are topless and the tits are nice.” Niall whispers in your ear as he leans over the back of the couch to hand you your drink, you just laugh but Harry even in his half drunken state heard Niall’s little joke and sends him a glare through the screen.
“He said people so I’m assuming it’s not just girls in this club.” You explain and Niall just shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Right so the guys are brief-less and the cocks are decent.” You nearly choke on the sip of your drink that’s in your mouth at Niall’s statement making him laugh as he reaches over and rubs your back a bit. “Jesus no wonder you two are getting married. Neither of you can handle your liquor.” He teases before he heads back into the kitchen to give you and Harry a few minutes alone.
“Harry why don’t you go and enjoy yourself? You can call me in the morning if you want?” You don’t want to sound rude but you know if you don’t get him off the phone soon then odds are you’ll be on FaceTime with him for the next few hours or until Gemma notices and takes things into her own hands.
“I took s’mthing of yours to help me get through the weekend without you.” Harry admits quietly as he looks around as if to make sure no one is looking before he reaches into his suit jacket pocket, you feel your whole face get hot when he shows you what he took of yours and you silently thank your lucky stars Niall decided to go back into the kitchen. “They’ve helped so far but still miss you.” He adds as he clutches the item in his hand while staring at you through the phone.
“You are such a freak.” Harry just shrugs one shoulder and gives you a sneaky little smirk as he begins to put the object pack into his pocket.
“Tell me those aren’t your knickers he’s shoving back into this pocket like some sort of sicko.”
“M’not a sicko for having a pair of my fiancé’s-”
“Do not finish that sentence Harry Styles you are in public.” You hear a scoff come from behind you while Harry also makes a similar sounding noise making you send Niall who’s now resting his forearms on the back of the couch next to where you’re sitting, a glare over your shoulder before looking back at your phone to give Harry the same look.
“Babe he’s surrounded by bouncing boobs and swinging pricks you think anyone’s gonna give a rats ass if he’s got some worn out knickers in his sleeve?” You scrunch your nose at Niall’s choice of words regarding your undergarments making Harry chuckle.
“How’d ya know they’re worn? You been in my nightstand you wonky kneed twat?”
“You have a panty stash in your nightstand you lanky fuck?”
“And if I do? S’none of your concern you hobbit sized asshole.”
“Ya know for a family all about treat people with kindness you Styles lot sure love to be mean as fuck to the Irish fella who’s job it is to make sure your beloved future bride makes it down the aisle.”
“The bloody hell s’that ‘posed to mean?” You let out a sigh as you just sit there and let the two of them argue as you normally do, knowing that eventually you’ll have to step in but for right now it hasn’t reached the level of any serious feelings getting hurt. Harry’s eyes are a light shade of red and his cheeks are pink letting you know his drinks are starting to catch up to him.
“It means that you overgrown toddler of a man best start being nicer to me or I might just have her accidentally get lost on the way to the venue or better yet just let her sleep in and be so late you’ll have to cancel the whole thing and reschedule it for next-”
“Okay that’s enough.” You snap when you see Harry’s eyes start to get watery as Niall’s threat starts to sink into Harry’s slightly alcohol clouded mind. “Niall go into the kitchen and make me a snack please.” He just lets out a huff but he does what you say because he can tell by your tone that you’re in no playing mood and besides he is starting to feel a bit hungry himself.
“I don’t want to reschedule.” You feel your heart sink a bit at how sad Harry’s voice is as he looks at you with a frown.
“We aren’t rescheduling anything Harry he’s just being mean that’s all.” You give him a reassuring smile that just makes him nod. “I love you and I want you to go and have fun okay? Do some weird stuff and tell me all about it when you get home or if you don’t want to-”
“M’gonna call you in the morning.” He corrects you and you just smile at his face because you know he’s trying his best to look serious but he’s failing due to the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smile. “I love you so so-so fucking much even though you ignored me.” He half mumbles and you can’t help but giggle at how cute he is when he’s drunk and trying so hard to keep it together.
“I love you too.” He gives you a dimpled grin at your response. “Now go have fun or I won’t answer your call tomorrow.” You know it’s probably not nice to threaten him but you figure it’s a good way to get him to actually do what you want and by the way he rolls his eyes and lets out a huff you know it works.
“Fine I’ll go and find m’sister and have fun.” He says with a sigh while you smile and blow him a kiss before saying you love him one more time and ending the call.
“Has he always been so damn needy?” Niall asks as you walk into the kitchen with your drink in your hand. You just shrug as you take a sip while you take a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island so you can watch Niall cook, he decided a proper meal was what the two of you needed not just a lousy snack since there’s still a dating show finale to watch.
“I don’t know but I also don’t mind.” You answer with a smile making Niall quirk a brow at you as he stirs in the cheese sauce for the Mac and cheese. “I’m happy to be the one he needs.” And it’s the truth because while Harry might be overly clingy and a tad bit more needy than he normally was when the two of you were just friends, you love being the one he wants to cling to and feels the urge to be needy with because it shows the shift that’s taken place and how in love with you he actually is.
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bluelockmaniac · 8 months ago
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calling your friend a pet name in front of your boyfriend MIKAGE REO
cw: possessive reo, fem!reader, guy friend wc: 651 itoshi rin version
you were strolling enthusiastically through the crowded mall with your boyfriend, your eyes darting excitedly from one window display to another in hopes of finding the perfect present for your best friend’s upcoming birthday. you really appreciated reo’s offer to tag along because it was no secret to you, or to anyone else for that matter, that the mikage corporation heir is one heck of a stylish man.
as you continue impatiently scanning the endless storefronts with all the dazzling fashion trends on display, your frustration begins to gnaw at you. despite looking around nearly every corner of the mall, the dress that your friend had wanted for a long time was nowhere to be seen. sensing your annoyance, reo softly chuckles, his hand finding its way to your waist as he calmly guides you to a very elegant-looking store, “y/n, is that the soft pink coquette dress you were lookin—”
“—oh my god, this is it, reo!” you blurt out, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you grab his wrist and drag him away from the window display and into the store, “you found it, thank you!” you kiss his cheek, a bright grin spreading across your face as you hurry down to the appropriate aisle. your embarrassed boyfriend awkwardly follows behind as he rubs the back of his neck, “anything for my princess.” he softly murmurs.
while your boyfriend was distracted with the gold jewelry on the wall, your hands browsed through the colourful assortment of dresses on the rack, searching for the one you had seen outside. finally spotting the only pink dress, your hand reached out to grab it only to unexpectedly brush your fingers against someone else’s hand—someone who wanted the same dress.
“oh, sugar,” you laugh, patting your guy friend with a cheeky grin, “you came here to buy your girlfriend the dress she loves?” your friend rolls his eyes playfully, gently pushing your hand away, “heh. i wanted to. but now—”
“sugar? who’s sugar? who’s he?” your boyfriend strides over to you quickly, his arm encircling your waist protectively as he shoots a belittling glare at the man. upon hearing your pet-name, he reasonably assumed you were beckoning him over, however his gentle smile quickly faded into an irritated scowl as he saw the strange man talking to you with such familiarity.
you glance up at reo with a soft giggle, intertwining your fingers with his, “he’s f/n’s boyfriend and my close friend. i guess we both thought of buying her this dress,” you explained, lifting the garment by its hanger.
“wow, you never mentioned me to your boyfriend?” he jokes, his finger about to playfully poke your shoulder, before he hesitates, sensing the billionaire’s jealousy, “i’m hurt, y/n,” he adds with a pout. he looks at your boyfriend and extends his hand for a handshake, “nice to meet you, reo—”
“it’s mikage for you,” your boyfriend hisses, the tone of his voice had an unmistakable hint of annoyance that he put no effort to mask. he hands you his card and pats your back in the direction of the checkout area, “here, sweetheart. go buy the dress,”
“thanks,” you give one last apologetic glance at your friend before scurrying away to the cashier.
“man, i really wanted to buy f/n that dress,” the guy muttered awkwardly, a failed attempt at a joke. he was trying to ease the tense atmosphere, but reo was not helping at all.
reo simply scoffs, turning around as he crosses his arms together, “my girlfriend found the dress first, so you better hurry and find something else while you still have the time, fool.” he adds with a disgusted expression before walking away, leaving your poor friend bewildered.
“oh, sweetheart, you’re back!” you smile and hold his hand, “what were you tal—”
“sugar,” he sulked.
your brows furrowed in confusion, “what?”
“call me sugar.”
comments appreciated, thank you!!
if you're interested in a royal/fantasy au; wizard ness x princess y/n (no kaiser) click here!
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acerathia · 6 months ago
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equilibrium || Aventurine
Summary:
Aventurine found you by chance, and kept you. Yet, was he any better than the others vying for you?
Wordcount: 4.7k
Read on AO3
Pairing:
Aventurine / Slave!Mermaid!Reader
Tags/CW:
slave reader, implicit trauma, mentions of gambling and human trafficking, slight spoilers for Aventurine's backstory, Hopeful Ending, maybe slightly ooc
Note:
I wrote this for mermay, and for my bday, congrat to me, yippie!! also, unedited bc i rlly wanted to share edit: sequel - delirium
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The bustling of the people surrounded Aventurine, the murmurs waves hitting against him with each step he took. Normally, he wasn’t someone to appear in such a place, much less participate in whatever activities they try to hide. His place was at a table, a couple chips in each pocket and luck to gamble on. 
Yet there he was, making his way towards the rendezvous point he was given on a crumpled piece of paper. And if this meeting weren’t so crucial for the plans he has built inside his mind, topping it with his inherent gift, he wouldn’t even be in such a place. A place reminding him too much of who he used to be. 
So, keeping a pace in his steps, he tried to hurry without giving the impression that he wanted to leave as soon as possible. 
Finally, arriving at the place he has been given direction to, the first thing Aventurine noticed was the stage, still empty, the curtains still closed. He almost frowned, but he caught himself, keeping his face relaxed with his usual smug smile. Instead of worrying about whatever was happening behind the stage, he turned to look for the person of interest. 
The moment he spotted them, he leisurely walked over, immediately taking a seat beside them, not caring if it belonged to somebody else, or if there were other free spaces available. He leaned back in his seat, resting his elbow on the edge of the back, as he turned to slightly face his opponent in this upcoming verbal gamble. 
But before he could prepare the bait onto his tongue, the lights dimmed and the curtains began to shift as they slowly revealed what was hiding behind it. And Aventurine wasn’t interested, not only that, he was outright disgusted, his neck itching but he refrained from even acknowledging the burn in his throat. 
Especially at the sight exhibited in front of the murmuring crowd, gasps simmering down to amazement. Their eyes glued to the tank posed in the middle of the stage. For a moment, Aventurine tried to reign himself in, to focus on his target, but watching said target not even glancing at him, he had to see for himself what could catch the mind of so many people with its simple appearance. 
The moment his eyes fixed themselves to the front, everything clicked into place. 
Because there you were, floating in the shallow water given to you, limp and listless. And while he normally wouldn't keep his eyes on such a spectacle for such a prolonged time any other time, too busy with too much work and gambling, this time he couldn't, as his eyes noticed something too familiar close to your collarbone. Something still red and swollen, something that made his skin burn with memory. 
He had to rip his eyes from the all too familiar sight, only to notice what had truly caught the attention of all these people. 
Despite the lack of movement, maybe especially because of the lethargy, the shine of the headlights sparkled off you. Because instead of the pair of legs someone would expect from a person getting sold, your bare skin tapered off into something similar to the skin of a fish. The scales glittered within the small waves of the water, the fins not even trying to hold you, still, lifeless, the same way your eyes just seemed to look through everything in front of you, mind in a faraway place, maybe even safe and sound. 
His eyes on yours, but there was nothing to meet. So, he looked away, trying to get his focus back onto his task at hand. But his target was too transfixed to be dealt any deals of his, so Aventurine decided to wait this out. He could be a patient man if it meant more profit in the future. 
So, he waited and watched. Watched as the price climbed, as hands shot out without any hesitancy. The price rose, unfurling, and he was not surprised, it was nothing but a spectacle after all. A show that went both ways. Who had more to give, more money, more possession, more desire. 
He flexed his fingers. Something hot running through them, making them cling uncomfortably to the skin of his gloves. And before he knew it, his hand was raised, if only for a moment, barely enough for the number to be called out. One that didn’t last any longer than it took for him to let his hand come back to clench against his thigh. A failure. Something he hadn’t experienced in some time. But he supposed that his luck, Gaiathra Triclops, was trying to tell him something, and he could do nothing but accept it. 
Without raising his hand again, without tearing his gaze away from you, catching the slight raise of your chest, the only sign of you being more than a glorified corpse. Even if you might as well be one in your state. 
He only listened, trying to understand what was being whispered between the ranks of the competitors, anything that could be used against them, any information that could prove itself useful. But as much as he tried to divert his attention, it always returned back to you, to you and that red shimmering in the water. 
In the end, the man by his side has won the battle of wealth, gaining the unspoken status, and you. And Aventurine finally got his gaze away from you, if only to finally face the task he was appointed, if only to flee this place as soon as he was done. 
Talk and gamble, a quick tongue and quicker hands, that was all he had, his luck aside, yet those were often more than enough. They had to, they were the only things that could never be truly ripped away from him, unlike the memories gaining a certain hazy quality the more he draped himself in luxury, the more often he was called by a different name. And those skills would always accompany him, even if they ripped everything away from him once again, leaving him bare and shivering, at their mercy. 
But at this point, Aventurine would rather disappear into the depths of the universe, back into Mother Fenge’s embrace, than to return to that state. But before it comes to that, he would continue using his skills, his life was one big gamble, and in the end, there will be only one winner, the same one as the loser. 
A twitch of his fingers, a substitute of shaking his head to regain his senses, as he could not afford to show any weaknesses. 
He faced the man, the one now owning you, and he began doing what he was best at. It didn’t take long until his task was wrapped around his finger, or rather in his debt, his being now transferred to the IPC, as they expected him to after this meeting. 
Only one thing did Aventurine decide to keep to himself, something that the IPC wasn’t aware of yet, and they would be, without doubt. Yet, he took that one thing to himself, as some form of payment of sorts. Jade would surely understand that he too desired… 
A shuddering breath escaped him the moment he stepped out of that glamorous space, leaving the excited shouts behind him, leaving the lingering ache behind him. Only taking two pieces of paper with him, one neat, kept in a folder, the other folded in his pocket, hidden for his eyes only, for as long as possible. 
He took a moment for himself, tucked into the shadows, to collect himself, to build the mask back up. The one he couldn’t afford to let crumble in front of anyone, not even himself. 
Pulling his shoulders back, he started making his way back to base, and to the only place he might ever call his own, not quite home, but something analogous. And it was more than enough. 
After delivering the papers, thus fulfilling the task assigned to him, he let himself take a step into the place belonging to him, if only in name. The inside of the small space was meticulously clean, no dust despite the little amount of time he actually spent in there. And despite its size, it remained impersonal, nothing alluding to the way Aventurine draped himself in luxury and secrets, almost like if one touch too much might lead to the doom of him. With the life he was leading, he could not afford to get attached, much less to an empty space, one carrying his name, but never truly his. 
He rid himself of his coat, slowly plucking the rings of his fingers to pile them up on a table, scratch marks the only indication of any use. And, for some reason, he decided to take a peek into the bathroom, only the necessities standing in a line, and the moment his eyes connected with the bathtub, a frown pinched between his brows. This was ridiculous. This whole idea was idiotic, and he should–
There was a knock on the door, startling him out of the bathroom. He was not expecting anyone, nobody should come to this place unless necessary. Yet, the knocks remained calm, no urgency in their rhythm. 
For a moment he was keen on ignoring whoever was in front of the door until they left eventually. But he was feeling tired, and he couldn’t know how long they would just keep knocking, and knocking, making noise without any consequences–
And he was already at the door, opening it. Whoever was waiting took their chances and just walked in, but not alone. There were a couple of people just storming this place, and then his eyes landed on the thing they were carrying in. 
A tank. 
A protest died on his lips as they left as fast as they came, not even an exchange of words, not to him, not between themselves. And as quickly he was all alone once again. 
Just, this time he wasn’t that alone anymore. The tank just stood in the middle of the room, taking some space, enough to be noticeable, but not that much to be much of a bother. The lid not allowing any sight into its contents, blocking any light from getting in simply by being a plate of black. 
The mere thought of being stuck in such a space, barely enough for someone to lie in, made his skin crawl. Aventurine was never one to feel any kind of claustrophobia, even if he did grow underneath the open sky, the wind on his skin, the ground steady under his feet, free to walk and turn and jump. But this tank, the mere thought of being stuck in the same stagnant place, nothing more than the necessary surrounding him, felt uncannily familiar, and he hated that. 
So, he shoved his fingers to find some kind of grasp underneath the edge of the lid, and once he had one, he pulled it off, almost throwing it away as it plopped away much easier than he would have expected. (Almost like they didn’t expect you to get away, but it didn’t take long for him to remember that you had no other choice, no way to get away no matter how much you tried, how much you might have wanted to.)
Fingers running through his hair, he looked down into the tank, to the content he was expecting, yet wished to be null and void. 
There was no gaze to meet, no eyes to see him as he peered into the water, the one barely covering you, barely enough, barely clean. Just enough to keep you alive, and the way the water seemed to be muddled and greasy made him uneasy. Or rather the memory of being kept just alive, being constantly threatened by the environment in itself, never secure, never safe. 
Abruptly, he stood up and walked over to the bathroom, only to stop at the doorway, darkness in front of him, the bathtub still where he had known it to be. A moment of hesitancy, before he shook himself out of it. For this moment he wasn’t sure if you would have wanted help, if you’d rather take another way, one Aventurine had considered often if not for the promise to his sister. Yet, he decided to pull through, you could still decide to decline whatever he may give you once you come back to your senses, if you ever do. 
After flicking on the light, he opened the faucet, allowing the water to slowly fill the water. During this process, Aventurine kept working, as he began to push the tank closer to the entrance of the bathroom. He didn’t know enough to just grab you and heave you into the water, you might not survive any longer periods out of it, jostling you might startle you, leading to some ugly trashing before he even would have the chance to get you close to the tub. And he’d like to avoid as many injuries, especially to his face, as much as possible, thank you very much. 
Once the tank was as close to the tub as physically possible, meaning it just laid there besides the door just outside, the bathroom too small for it, he shut the flow of the water, as the tub seemed full enough, almost dangerously full if you were to ask him. But those were details he didn’t have the concentration for. 
His focus laid entirely upon your prone body, as he tried to think of a way to lift you up without slipping through his fingers. He doubted he would be able to grab your arms and drag you to the tub, your tail seemed like most of your weight came from there, especially due to its sheer size. 
After rolling his sleeves up, and with no other choice in sight, he began sliding one of his arms underneath your shoulders, trying to stabilize your torso as his other arm slung over your tail, pressing it to himself to not lose grip. 
A breath and he straightened up, paying attention to not simply let you slip from his grasp, the water between the layers of skin a dangerous player. With quick steps he crossed the bathroom and as much he wanted to throw you in to get rid of the weight, he bowed to let you down slowly, his arms trembling. 
Your figure immersed itself immediately into the fresh water, and he thought he might have seen something flutter at the column of your neck. But he avoided looking in that general vicinity anyway, rather turning around to get rid of the tank, or at least to put it somewhere less restrictive. And then, then he had to see what he might do about your presence in his place, occupying his bathtub. 
***
It was way too early in the morning, and yet Aventurine was awake, at least that was what he tried to tell himself as he stumbled through the room towards the bathroom. If he had the possibility, he would have stayed in bed longer, yet work called and he did not want to neglect his alleged duties just yet. 
His hand tapped around the wall looking for the light switch as he stepped inside, expecting to be able to get through his morning routine as fast as possible.
But before the light illuminated the small space, his eyes caught sight of two reflective disks floating in the dark, turned towards him, and he took a surprised step back, ready to strike back against whatever was invading the place. 
His hand brushed the switch, and the light flooded the bathroom. Blinking, he tried to adjust faster to the sudden change. 
Muscles still tense, he looked into the direction of the earlier glow. But all he saw was you, arms leaning against the edge of the tub, your head laying on top of it. Your gaze stayed on him, even if you did squint your eyes, almost like some form of mistrust. 
And was he not the right one to understand how you might feel. At the same time, he did not have the time to indulge in your curiosity, or his. Rather, he turned around towards the sink and acted nonchalant, as if your mental presence didn’t come as a surprise. 
He almost felt the way your eyes traveled over his form, catching onto the word on the side of his neck. The one so similar, if not identical to yours. And your confusion could be sensed even without you moving in the slightest, without him even daring to glance at you. 
For a couple of seconds, he acted as if the water coming out of the sink was the most interesting thing to ever be seen today, until he realized how much he must have been stalling and shut it off with a click. 
And he couldn’t help it, he turned towards you, ready to look you in the eyes, look at your current disposition. But before he fully faced you, there was a barely heard splash, and the only thing he could see was the tail end of yours slightly peeking out of the water. 
Shifting his weight slightly, he furrowed his eyebrows. He truly didn’t know what to expect or what to do. So, he did what he thought best, he turned around. Only, the hold of his feet was much too precarious as his balance tipped over, all because of a little puddle against the tile floor. 
His reflexes caught on faster than his brain, and his arms were holding him, clawing at the edge of the basin as his legs slowly slumped to ground. Only once he was secure on the ground did he allow himself to breathe again, the air releasing after the sudden fall had almost choked him. 
He began to lessen the tension in his arms, only to suddenly be face to face with you, inches barely between the two of you; only him slightly looking down on you. 
Your eyes were wide open as they stare him down, and the moment you opened your mouth he couldn’t help but glance towards them; expectancy rushing through him. But all he got were a couple of clicks, coming from the depth of your throat. 
And it seemed like you sensed his confusion, as you put your arms at the spots where his once were and stemmed yourself higher, to be at the same height as him. Releasing one of your arms from the spot, you let it slowly approach his skin, his neck, his code. 
Surprisingly, Aventurine didn’t even think of dodging your careful touch, rather, he anticipated it. There was just something about the way you barely let your cold fingers touch him, how it was more about making sure it was real than about the contact itself. Cold water dropped down the column of his throat as you continued to trace the one thing you both shared, at least externally. 
His breath shuddered as you began to apply more pressure, and with that he pulled away. He couldn’t afford to slack right now, even with the frown you were giving him, the slight tilt of your head as you let out a couple of clicks, a question tinting them. 
He sighed as he brushed his hair aside, his wet fingers letting them stick in place. There was no way to know if you understood him, but he had to try, right?
With a couple of sentences he explained that he had to go, work and people were expecting him. And even if it seemed like you grasped what he meant, the frown never left your face. Yet, you let him go without trying anything. 
So, he left. 
***
The day had worn him out. Aventurine knew the gamble, was the best at it, yet it didn’t mean that he had to enjoy it. The only thing he got out of this work were the benefits, some better than others. 
He wanted nothing more than to lay down, yet the absent buzzing of the background made the calm and quiet almost oppressive, almost like his ears were stuffed. 
With a sigh, he went through the same motions he did every time he came back. Only to falter slightly the moment he heard a splash coming from the bathroom. 
Right. You were still there. 
Loosening his collar, he made his way to the bathroom, this time expecting the ominous glow of your eyes. But when he peered inside, there was only darkness, the light switch was off and your eyes covered by the water. The only indication of your existence were the almost too loud waves of the water. 
His fingers found the switch, and light flooded the small space. Once again, all he could see of you was part of your tail, and he realized that the bathtub might be just a tad too small for you. 
The moment the light touched the surface of the water, the movements of the waves intensified, and as he slowly stepped towards the basin, your  torso emerged out of the water with a sudden jerk, only to come face to face with him once again. 
As much as he wanted to say that he was better prepared, he still flinched slightly at the sudden jump. Your movements had sprayed water all over the floor and all over him. Aventurine could feel the way spots of his clothes slightly stuck to his skin and the water droplets running over his skin. 
With a couple of clicks, you grabbed his hand to tug him closer. Taking a couple steps closer, he carefully kneeled beside the tub and ignored the way the puddles on the ground soaked into the tissue of his pants. Rather, he put his focus on you, the way your cold fingers were gingerly holding his wrist while you led his own to your skin. 
Warm meets cold, and this time it was your skin reacting to his touch. Yet, you didn’t relent, rather you applied more pressure, until he noticed where you had put his finger onto. 
Your own code. The one warmer than the rest of your skin, red edges and raw borders. 
His mind tumbled. Was he any better than these people buying and selling, acting like everyone was nothing but profit? Wasn’t he acting the same way, taking and keeping people, hidden under the dark. 
He jerked his hand away from yours, abruptly standing up, his soaked pants cooling him down to an uncomfortable degree. 
And this time, he left without any words. 
***
This time, HE kept the lights on, as some kind of mercy. But whatever effort HE put into this little thought of HIS only brought more pain. Your eyes were killing you, the shine of the lamp above searing your retina. Still not used to the lamps of the land, as the water below remained dark, always.
So, you kept them close, and stayed underwater, the only comfort for your hot eyes and burning mark. 
Resting your head against the bottom of the bathtub, you couldn’t help but frown. You had no idea what you were doing in this place. Most so-called owners of the past were people equipped with handling you, big tanks, so much space (and the eyes, never leaving you, always staring, always desiring). Some grew tired of you, others couldn’t keep maintaining the tanks and the technology, while a couple simply went out cold, or whatever. It didn’t matter to you, as you kept being handed around, sold to whoever got feverish with the idea of owning you.
And you, you had given up on going back home. There was no such place anymore. At least from what you understood from the conversations over the edge of the tanks. They sucked it dry, and whatever wouldn’t bring them enough profit was left to rot on top of the hot sand. 
So, the only thing you could do was nothing. Nothing but survive. You couldn’t fight, you couldn’t run away. You were completely dependent on whoever was keeping you in their palm. 
Your fingers brushed against the mark on your shoulder, the dull throbbing intensifying with each stroke. You had never had one of these before, every owner wanting to keep you as beautiful as you were, only selling you to private people. But you supposed these traders didn’t care for such pretenses, thus officially marking you as property, as something to own, to sell and buy. 
It bothered you, really, just being in this place, having no idea what was expected of you. HE never seemed to have any favorable reaction to your existence, which boils your blood. You didn’t want to be in this place either, HE was the one to bring you to this space. 
But the image of HIS mark flashing through your mind calmed you a little bit. You didn’t quite understand why HE had one, yet could walk around so freely, but you knew that HE was in some way aware of the situation you were in, how living had been like this. 
So, you decided to cut HIM some slack, even if you wanted nothing more than to understand HIS intentions towards you, besides the impossible freedom of course. 
Curling your fingers, long nails soothingly scratching your skin, you let your mind wander. 
***
It took some time until HE visited you again, it was almost like HE was actively avoiding you. Thinking back on your last encounter, on HIS facial expression HE probably was. And you didn’t mind the solitude, even if the small environment quickly grew boring and dull. But that too, was nothing new to you. You just dived into yourself in the way you would dive into the deep water. 
So, you barely noticed HIS arrival, simply floating in the unmoving, almost stale water. The thing alarming you of HIS presence was the noise. The scratching of HIS rings, the glide of HIS clothes against each other, HIS oh-so-careful yet confident steps. You knew HE was in this room with you, yet you stayed underwater, suddenly so unsure what you were supposed to do. 
An image flashed through your mind, one so unpleasant that your body almost flinched on itself. You didn’t know if it was a good thing to be reminded of your expected behavior like this, but it was a reminder nonetheless. 
Collecting yourself, you emerged slowly, only allowing your head to break the surface of the water. 
You didn’t know what to expect (an imposing figure looking down on you, ready to strike–), but it was not HIM once again kneeling as low as possible beside the bathtub containing you, almost like HE was trying to be on the same level as you, how absurd–
“I’m sorry,” He softly murmured, His voice careful and almost hesitant, yet His eyes stayed on you, unwavering. 
You had so many questions, but you could never convey them to him, and you shouldn’t, it wasn’t your turn to speak, who were you to try to talk. 
Out of instinct, your head moved slightly to the side as you blinked slowly at Him, and He slowly raised His hand, reaching out to you. 
(Skin against skin, a sharp sting, over and over again–)
His fingers carefully touched your cheeks, barely any contact, yet the difference in temperature something to shiver at. But you didn’t dare to, you didn’t dare to move. 
Trailing your skin, your throat as you swallowed, He only stopped when His skin was about to meet your marking. Another whisper, another apology fell from His mouth. 
And for some reason, you did something you would have never dared to, you took the hand touching you, your other hand carefully meeting the skin of His, fingers carefully around His neck. Slowly, you pulled Him closer to you. 
With a soft click of yours you let his forehead rest against yours. And as if he understood everything you wanted to tell him, the tension melted away from his body as he slumped against you. 
Holding him against your skin, a small equilibrium between you, you think that everything might turn out alright after all. 
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solarmorrigan · 29 days ago
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Movie Nights
For the @steddie-spooktober day 25 prompt: Frankenstein Friday Rated: T | Words: 1514 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, outsider POV, I know the movie is over 90 years old but I didn't actually watch it myself until a month ago, so just in case there's anyone else out there who hasn't seen it, Frankenstein (1931) spoilers Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
Part 3 of the Good Neighbors series
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Gladys can appreciate new things. Books, television, music – the little joys to be found in new discoveries are what make life worth living. She isn’t as set in her ways as some people her age can be, but she does have her favorites.
She loves her mysteries and her thrillers above all else; the likes of Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, and Arthur Conan Doyle line her shelves. She’s dipped into the genre of spies and intrigue, digging into Ian Fleming and John Le Carré. She’s even been known to appreciate a good horror film now and then.
Emphasis on “good.”
“So this is what passes for horror these days?” Gladys asks as a young man on the TV screen is sucked down into his bed, only to be spat back out as an absolute geyser of blood.
Eddie chuckles, glancing up from the screen. “Not your cup of tea?”
Gladys leans on the back of the couch, resting her arms there. She’d only come over to the boys’ apartment to see if they had a spare baking dish she could borrow; they certainly hadn’t invited her in to critique their choice of entertainment. But all the same–
“I just think they should try a little harder to really scare people. These days, it’s all shock and gore. All they have to do is shower people in blood and call it a day,” Gladys says. “I remember a time when they put real effort in.”
“Back in your day?” Eddie teases, grinning at her.
Gladys tsks, cuffing him upside the head – not hard, barely more than a tap, but he still falls sideways onto the couch with a gasp, clutching his head, and then rolls right off and onto the floor with a thump. Gladys rolls her eyes, but doesn’t bother to hide her smile at his antics.
“Hey, will this work for–” Steve exits the kitchen, a glass baking dish in his hands, and stops as his attention is almost immediately diverted to Eddie. “Why are you on the floor?”
“Gladys attacked me,” Eddie replies.
“Oh. Good for her,” Steve decides, holding up the dish again. “Will this work for you?”
“That would be fine,” Gladys says, accepting it as Steve passes it over.
“She also thinks my movie is trash,” Eddie says brightly as he levers himself back up onto the couch.
“I did not say it was trash,” Gladys says. “At worst, I said it was cheap.”
“Okay, but that’s not better,” Eddie says.
“I’m not a huge fan, either,” Steve leans in to stage whisper to Gladys, “but it makes him happy.”
“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s a critic.” Eddie rolls his eyes, then leans back a bit so he can look up at Gladys. “What would you call a good horror movie, if not the genius of Wes Craven?”
Gladys purses her lips, thinking for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen the classics? Dracula, The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”
Eddie lets out a thoughtful little noise, shaking his head. “Can’t say I have.”
“Well, you ought to. You’ll see where it all began, then,” Gladys says.
“And I get the feeling you’d enjoy showing us,” Eddie says, wiggling his eyebrows up at Gladys.
“’Us’? Who’s ‘us’? When did I get roped into this?” Steve asks, and Eddie reaches out to take one of his hands.
“We’re a package deal, baby, everyone knows that,” Eddie says.
“No one around here but Gladys knows that,” Steve reminds him.
“Everyone important knows that,” Eddie amends. “Anyway, what do you say, Gladys? Feel like educating a couple of horror philistines such as ourselves?”
“Well,” Gladys says slowly, “I’m sure I could come up with something.”
This is how she ends up in her armchair the following Friday night, the boys both sitting on the loveseat, all watching as the audience is warned of the frightening nature of the upcoming film playing out on the television.
“Now, this wasn’t Universal’s first horror film, and it wasn’t even the first movie adaptation of Frankenstein,” Gladys says when the opening credits come on, “but it is a bit iconic. I thought you might get a kick out of it.”
“But is it scary?” Eddie teases.
“Well, I don’t know about scary, but maybe a bit shocking. Look at it this way:” Gladys says, “it was 1931. Graverobbing and murder might seem mundane to you, but we weren’t quite as desensitized to seeing it on the screen back then.”
Steve glances over at her. “Do you remember when this came out?”
“Oh, barely.” Gladys wiggles her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture. “I certainly didn’t go to see it in the theater, I was only six or seven at the time.”
“Still, that’s pretty cool,” Steve says, and Gladys favors him with a smile.
If they aren’t altogether horrified by the movie, the boys are at least engaged, keeping up a running commentary that has even Gladys laughing. (“He had that coming,” Steve says when the monster finally catches Frankenstein’s assistant. “Yep. Rest in pieces, Fritz,” Eddie adds.) However, as they reach the midway point, the father onscreen bidding his daughter to go play with her cat while he works, Steve shifts uneasily in his seat.
“Wait, they’re not going to do anything to the cat, are they?” he asks, cutting a worried glance at Gladys.
As if the thought hadn’t occurred to him until Steve voiced it, Eddie sits up straight in his own seat. “Gladys,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at the screen, “you’re not showing us a movie where they kill a cat, are you?”
One brow raised, Gladys regards the pair of them. “You’re worried about the cat, but not the child?”
Steve scoffs. “It’s 1931, they’re not gonna kill a kid,” he says, while Eddie nods in agreement.
Both brows raised now, Gladys only gives them a little “hm,” and turns back to the screen. With some suspicion, Eddie and Steve do the same, watching as the scene unfolds.
“Oh, shit,” Steve says, taken aback as the monster tosses the little girl into the lake.
“Damn. Guess we should’ve worried about the kid, after all,” Eddie says.
“You have to have some idea of how this movie ends,” Gladys says, shaking her head. “Did you really think they’d form an angry mob over a dead cat?”
“I would,” Eddie declares, then looks down at Steve, who at some point in the last half hour had ended up tucked into Eddie’s side (when, Gladys isn’t sure, but it’s sweet; it’s a pleasant feeling knowing how comfortable the two of them are here). “Steve, would you form an angry mob with me if someone killed our cat?”
“We don’t have a cat,” Steve says.
“That’s not the point,” Eddie insists, and Steve relents.
“I would come with you if only to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed,” he decides.
“I’ll take it,” Eddie says with a shrug.
The rest of the movie plays out on the screen – the forming of the mob, the confrontation with the monster, the burning windmill, and, at last, the peaceful conclusion.
“Wait,” Eddie says, brows furrowed as he watches the end credits play, “that’s it? That’s how it ends? A toast to the house of Frankenstein, the end?”
“Yes…” Gladys says slowly. “Why? How should it end?”
“Oh, I don’t know, how about a little restitution for the guy whose daughter got murdered?” Eddie demands, shooting up out of his seat so quickly that Steve has no time to brace himself and falls sideways onto the loveseat with a little ‘oof.’ “How about a little accountability? I mean, seriously, this is just typical; some rich, entitled asshole plays around with things he can’t control, creates a problem he refuses to solve, and the poor end up being the ones to pay the price!”
“Now you’ve got him started,” Steve mutters to Gladys as he sits himself back up.
“Is there any way to get him to stop?” Gladys asks, though she’s a little fascinated with the theatrical way Eddie throws himself around the living room as he rants.
“Uh.” Steve glances over at Eddie and back away again, and there actually seems to be a little color rising in his cheeks. “Not, um…”
“Take him home first, if you’re planning to do something like that,” Gladys says primly, only to lose the fight to her laughter when Steve looks over at her, aghast.
“I wouldn’t–!” he protests indignantly, his face going redder.
“Are you guys even listening to me?” Eddie demands, turning back to face the pair of them.
Gladys declines to answer, asking instead, “Eddie, dear, how did you like the movie?”
“Oh. Aside from the ending, it was great.” Eddie drops back onto the loveseat, reaching out absently to tug Steve back over to his side. “What else ya got?”
“Well,” Gladys says, picking through the stack of tapes she’d managed to dig up at the video store. “If you like entitled rich people, let’s see how you feel about Dracula.”
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pornocunt · 5 months ago
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CURRENT WIPS !!
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DEAD DOVE CONTENT MENTIONED UNDER THE CUT, if you’re not a fan of d.d. content do not interact with this post! i am not responsible for what you consume.
filler post! these are a list of my current wips for upcoming fics with sneak peeks! if you would like to be tagged in any of these, please let me know by replying or filling out my taglist :3 i hope you like them <3
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DAD! LEON X DAUGHTER! READER — tw. incest, noncon, dubcon. based on an interaction i had with this leon bot made by my beloved @gor3-hound !! permission to make this interaction a fic has been given <3
when your dad comes back from alcatraz, you want nothing more than to cling onto his side. leon, being the good dad he is, he is happy to indulge your clinginess. you will always be his baby girl no matter what! so when you ask if you could sleep in his bed the night of his arrival, he happily obliged.
what he didn’t expect was waking up with a hard on while you stayed cuddled to his side! leon is a good dad, and he would never do anything to you, but instead, you took it into your hands to help him with that hard on! no matter how morally wrong it was.
DAD! LEON X DAUGHTER’S BEST FRIEND! READER — tw. noncon, corruption, baby trapping. based on two asks i sent @rigorwhoring while i was 💋 anon. ask 1, ask 2.
after getting kicked out of your house by your narcissist mother, you’re left with little money and no roof to sleep under. luckily for you, your best friend from college — sherry kennedy — convinces her dad to let you stay with them until you’re able to stand on your own two feet. meeting mr. kennedy was anxiety inducing, but sherry assured you that her dad isn’t as scary as he seems!
leon wasn’t a fan of sharing his home with some girl he hasn’t met before, but he couldn’t say no to his little girl. after meeting you and seeing how cute you were, leon wasn’t as annoyed as he was before. an attraction began to form for leon, you cooked, cleaned, and behaved. you would be the perfect little wife, so one night he takes initiative to make you just that.
UNCLE! LEON X NIECE! READER — tw. incest, noncon. based on a convo i had with @gor3-hound about the idea of uncle! leon.
you have no idea how no one else has noticed his behavior towards you. he’s beloved by your family, your dad’s younger brother, a government worker. uncle leon can do no wrong, but you know he can. you know the real him.
you thought skipping out on the family get together at your uncle’s house would grant you some distance away from him, but that’s just wishful thinking. your uncle is like a cold sore, one that keeps coming back, no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. your uncle isn’t an idiot, he knew you were trying to get away from him, it was cute really. sadly, your uncle isn’t the type to simply give up, so after final exam season is over for your college, leon comes to stay over at your dad’s house. now you’re stuck, wishing you had just gone to the get together, because now you’re sharing the same roof with the man you had so desperately tried to away from.
and you know what dear uncle leon is going to do to you.
MPREG! LEON X FEM! READER — cw. pregnant leon, tbh idk how leon got pregnant but who cares, male lactation, leon hates the fact he’s pregnant, sucking on his pecs..breastfeeding? handjobs. mpreg obsession came after this mpreg! chris bot made by @/nexysworld — idk if you wanna be tagged! — (it was really hot you should use the bot!)
how the fuck did this shit happen? leon had no fucking clue, he’s a full biological man, he had a dick and balls. he doesn’t have a womb? but he’s pregnant? he has a girlfriend! he dreamed about getting you pregnant, making you full with his kid, but now he’s the one full with your kid.
leon was apprehensive to keep the baby, but after some talks, it was decided to keep it. you, being the good girlfriend you are, you take good care of him. leon wanted to hate you for putting him in this situation, it didn’t help that sometimes you could be so mean about it. teasing him and making jabs at the fact he’s pregnant. nonetheless, you’re still taking care of him, and he can’t complain. as the months passed and his pregnancy progressed, his pecs began to swell with milk, it made them full and uncomfortable. his pecs still looked like pecs, though they were just fuller. the milk he produced was just there, making him achy and uncomfortable given he hasn’t had the kid yet, how the hell was he supposed to drain them?
after leon came to you with his grievances, you decided to help him out. there was no harm in milking your pregnant boyfriend’s swollen pecs! besides, you decide to help him in other ways too, god knows he needs it. in moments like these, leon is forever grateful to have you at his side.
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slytherinshua · 22 days ago
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♬ LOVE LIKE A DREAM ( 제이콥배 )
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genre fluff / fiance!jacob x fem!reader   cw jacob's mentioned to be shirtless / kissing / not proofread   wc 487   request no   note i'm trying out a new posting format idk if i'll stick to it or not but we'll see !!   net @deoboyznet @kstrucknet
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Your parents always said you were lucky to be engaged to your best friend, and you eagerly agreed. You knew you had practically won the lottery when it came to your love life. Friends and friends-of-friends always envied how perfect you and Jacob were for each other. There was something in the way you both looked at each other that was so full in love, you’d have to be blind to miss it. Jacob truly adored every part of you. 
Yesterday had been the bachelor and bachelorette parties, taking place at the same time, but on opposite sides of town. It was so fun being surrounded by all your closest friends, everyone celebrating and looking forward to you and Jacob finally tying the knot. Your excitement about your upcoming wedding was already through the roof, but the party had caused it to triple, if that was even possible. 
The only downside to a day-long party celebrating your engagement to your fiancé, was the lack of him the whole day. Now, you weren’t the overly clingy type. You could spend a day without seeing Jacob and survive just fine. But spending a day without him, but still talking about him the entire time made your brain spin with how much you missed him. 
And although you had the time of your life at the party, you were relieved to be home by the time it was over. Falling asleep in Jacob’s arms after a long day of missing him was the best feeling in the entire world. Except for maybe waking up to his arms still wrapped around you, and the feeling of his plush lips grazing your cheek with gentle kisses. 
You didn’t open your eyes immediately, instead basking in the feeling of him so close. Once he seemed to have gotten his fill of kissing your face, he pulled you closer, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You circled your arms around his waist as well, finding a way to be even closer. His bare skin was soft and extremely warm, comforting against your hands that always ended up getting cold in the night.
“Can’t wait to marry you,” you mumbled, still gripping onto the edges of sleep as you breathed in Jacob’s scent, the warmth of his skin relaxing you.
“Me too,” your fiancé sighed, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck. 
“Time can’t go fast enough,” you complained, meeting Jacob’s eyes as he gave you a sympathetic smile. He brought a hand to your cheek, stroking your skin with his thumb like he had done so many times before.
“You know I’d wait an eternity for you if I had to.”
You could tell how much weight his words held. Jacob’s entire being overflowed with sincerity, especially when it came to you. For the most precious person in his life, he could only be his completely honest self.
the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,
@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,, @cupidslovearrows,,
@hursheys,, @gong-fourz,, @arafilez
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xx-like-a-villian-xx · 7 months ago
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For The Last Time | One
“It had been months since you’d seen each other, five and three days to be exact (not that he was counting or anything), months since you had broken up with him. You said it was for the best, that your careers were more important but Noah didn’t think so.”
What I thought was going to be a lil angsty one shot has become a multiple part cry fest ahhh. Here’s part one <3
I'm posting this because it's in my drafts x
My ao3 is HERE
Also let me know if you want to be tagged in any upcoming posts :)
CW: post break up, angst, Noah has lots of feelings, “talking” about feelings, loads of swearing
(Dropping this because it was burning a hole in my drafts and I just wanted to get it out there)
18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader
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“Thought I’d find you here.” Your voice reached Noah’s ears like a siren song and it was infuriating.
He turned slightly, watching you approach him in that dress, that fucking dress that hugged every single curve on your body so perfectly it made him feel crazy, feral. He had been trying his damned hardest to avoid you all night and of course you found him, cigarette between his tattooed fingers, on the balcony, moping.
“The party is wild in there.” You gestured to the balcony doors that were muffling the sound of chatter and loud music inside.
“Yeah, I just needed some quiet.” His voice was gruff when he spoke and it only made you roll your eyes.
It had been months since you’d seen each other, five and three days to be exact (not that he was counting or anything), months since you had broken up with him. You said it was for the best, that your careers were more important but Noah didn’t think so.
You see, Noah would have walked through fire, jumped in front of a bullet, he would have stolen the moon from the fucking sky if you asked him to but you didn’t feel the same and as much as it hurt to watch you walk away, he did because he loved you. Issue is, he just couldn’t get over you.
He had avoided you like the plague for months but it was getting progressively harder because you shared friends. Usually it was easy, he left when you showed up, he asked around to see if you were going to events so he could make excuses not to go. It was fine, he hated socialising at the best of times so it was no skin off his nose.
Then you showed up to the album release in that fucking dress and his heart just about dropped out of his ass. And the worst part? You had some six foot four Doberman energy gym rat on your arm. That’s when he found himself storming out to the balcony with a half drank bottle of Hennessy and a pack of cigarettes he had stolen off the kitchen island.
He didn’t dare look at you again, instead his eyes stayed trained on the twinkling lights of the city when you joined him at the railing, your warmth burning his skin like acid.
”How have you been?”
Well that was a loaded question. What was he meant to say? ‘Oh yeah, I’m fantastic, nice to see you, Y/N. Who’s the hunk?’ Nah. He would rather put his hand in a blender.
“Fine.” He wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Instead he stubbed the cigarette out and took a long swig of the cognac, letting it burn down his throat in an attempt to quell the anger boiling in his blood.
He could feel you shift uncomfortably next to him and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. What did you have to feel uncomfortable about? You practically tore his heart out and curb stomped it. And to add a cherry on top of the shit icing, you decided his fucking album release party would be the best time to hard launch your new man.
Noah really, really wasn’t in the mood and he was practically begging the gods to make you just go inside and forget about it, enjoy your night and have fun but instead you reached out, took the bottle from his hands and took a huge swig.
Fuck.
“Shouldn’t you be with your date, Mick is it?” He finally grits through a clenched jaw.
You chuckle lightly. “It’s Mike, and he’s talking to Folio about fishing.”
Betrayer, of course he would be. Trust Folio to be rubbing shoulders with the enemy over fucking fishing poles.
Noah hums, running a hand through his recently cut short hair.
”It suits you, you know, short hair.” He turned to you fully with furrowed eyebrows. What was your game?
God you looked fucking beautiful, your hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of your neck, curled strands framing your face. Sharp wings of eyeliner made your eye colour stand out beautifully in the low light, along with those dark lashes and your lips were painted a shade of red that could only be described as unholy and fuck, he just wanted to feel them on his again.
”You think?” His voice was weak and he internally kicked himself for even looking at you because his knees felt weak and his stomach felt like it might explode.
You smiled that smile that he fell for all those years ago, reaching your hand out to brush a stray piece of hair from his eyes.
Yeah, he was well and truly fucked, done for, so fucking completely in love with you. He was never getting over you.
“Hey, we’re about to play the album.” Nicholas’ voice from the balcony door made you jump back away from Noah.
”See you inside, yeah?” He nodded at your words, watching you walk back inside to Mike, planting a soft kiss on the guy's cheek and Noah wanted to vomit.
Nicholas was staring at him with a smirk.
”Shut the fuck up.” Noah pointed at his best friend, grabbing the bottle of Hennessy before pushing his way inside.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Noah had been shifting uncomfortable in his seat, your narrowed eyes burning into him for almost an hour. You were clinging on to every fucking lyric he wrote and he knew he was in for it the moment you could get him alone again.
So as soon as the album had played through and chatter started up again, he was up on his feet, moving across the room before you could get to him.
”Hey, Noah isn’t it?” Oh for fuck’s sake. Mike held a hand out to him,
Noah hesitantly shook it with a smile that he was faking hard, gritting his teeth. “Yeah, nice to meet you…Mike?”
The taller man grinned. “Yeah, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend but I’m guessing you already know.”
Yeah, he fucking does know.
“It’s so sick that she knows you guys, I’ve listened to your last two albums and they go hard, man.”
Noah nodded, smiling, looking behind the guy to see you storming towards them with clenched fists.
“Look, Mike, I’m sorry to cut this short bu-“
“Hi babe, what are we talking about?” Fuck, you were now standing next to Mike, staring up at Noah with a false grin that screamed ‘I’m going to fucking kill you’.
”Oh, I was just telling Noah how much I fuck with the music babe.” Mike was completely unaware of the frustration bubbling in your bones, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
”That’s lovely.” You cooed, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Could you give Noah and I a second to talk, Folio is looking for you I think.”
Shit, shit, shit. There was no way he was getting out of it now. Mike leaned down to pull you into a kiss before strutting towards Folio and Noah just about wanted the ground to swallow him up right there and then.
”Downstairs, now.”
He had no choice but to follow you down the stairs like a lost dog, shuffling his feet as you stomped down the steps. As soon as you reached the outside, you turned to him with flailing arms.
”What the fuck is all that, Noah? You think that’s okay, airing our dirty laundry out like that?” You were seething, face turning beet red.
”It’s music, Y/N, not everything is about you.”
“Oh so ‘someone else’, ‘the death of peace of mind’ and what was the other one? ‘Bad decisions’? They’re not about me? Right…so the pretty much direct fucking quotes from our break up aren’t there? Sure.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
”First of all, it’s ‘somebody else’. Second of all, why does it matter? You’ve clearly moved on. I mean fuck me right?” He laughed incredulously, running a hand through his hair. “You said that you didn’t want to be with me anymore because your career was taking up all of your time and energy and then you show up here with a new guy, smushing face with him in front of me and my brothers like nothing happened. We were together for six fucking years, Y/N!”
He took a deep breath, chest heaving. You stared up at him with glassy eyes full of fire but he was past caring by that point.
”So forgive me, darling, for pouring my heart into my music. Our break up is still a fresh wound. I genuinely thought that we were gonna be end game and yeah, I’m not fucking over it. Did you even listen to ‘Just Pretend’, huh?”
A tear fell from your lashes onto your cheekbone, your face softening and Noah couldn’t watch. He hated the bullshit, the anger, the sadness. He just wanted to wrap you up in his arms and go back to when everything was okay, back when you were still his. Fuck, it was too much.
”Look, I’m sorry for shouting. I just find it really hypocritical of you to be going off at me like that when you completely blindsided me tonight.”
You nodded your head quickly, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. He was right, you had no place to be upset when you had hurt him, really fucking hurt him.
Noah could hear Jolly calling his name from inside and he sighed. “Maybe we can talk about all of this over coffee sometime next week. It’s a conversation we really need to have, cut the loose ends so both of us can move on, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your voice was quiet as a mouse, eyes trained on your shoes.
He wanted to reach out, pull you into his chest and comfort you but it wasn’t the right time, he didn’t think it would ever be. You had someone else to hold you and he was upstairs waiting.
“Text me, my number is still the same.”
With a sad smile, he turned, making his way back inside.
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loslentesdepedrito · 11 months ago
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Feliz Navidad
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Javi gif by: Ggyussance My Masterlist
Pairing: Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking Latina f!reader (No race, skin color, or nationality mentioned. I tried my best to include small parts of each Spanish-speaking Latin American country.)
Word count: 11.3k+
Summary: At every family reunion, the relentless interrogation about your love life becomes a tiring ritual. Fed up with the relentless questions and awkward setups, you turn to Javi, your best friend, and ask him to be your date for the upcoming family Christmas party. He suggests that you take it a step further by pretending to be a couple. Can the two of you play pretend, especially when, in reality, you both harbor secret feelings for each other?
Rating: 18+ Explicit content (MDNI) Tags and CW: slight angst, happy ending, fake dating, friends to lovers, jealous and possessive Javi, reader and Javi are in their 20s, not canon, just a smidge of idiots in love, reader wears a dress, lingerie, makeup, and is shorter than Javi, alcohol consumption, Javi being cheesy with your family, unprotected piv, cowgirl, use of a sex toy, oral (female receiving) reader likes to pull Javi's hair, creampie, slight cum eating, Javi loving his cum inside you.
A/N: I’m on vacation and meant to upload this on the 24th, but didn’t have time to add the translations. Sorry for the delay, tarde pero seguro. Enjoy! 
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"Come on, Javi," you plead again, watching him chew thoughtfully. There's a sense of urgency in your voice as you desperately hope he’ll agree to be your date for your family’s Christmas gathering. "Please, I'm practically begging you. I'll get down on my hands and knees if I have to." This finally grabs his attention. Caught off guard while swallowing, he hears your words and can't help but let his imagination run wild. The image of you begging, not just for any favor, but for him – for his cock, fills his mind. With a sudden intensity, he forces the last bite of the torta cubana down his throat, triggering a fit of coughing.
Reacting quickly, you reach for the glass of iced water on the table, extending it toward him without a word. He accepts the offering from your outstretched hand, bringing the cool glass to his lips. In a fluid motion, Javi tilts his head back, the cup cradled by his fingers.
Your attention zeroes in on the man before you: The plushness of his lower lip curves around the rim of the glass; as he takes a sip, droplets of water cascade down, catching the afternoon sun and creating a glistening effect.
Mesmerized, you trace the path of those droplets, leading you to the delicate contours of his pink lips. Descending further with your gaze, you focus on his neck, where the rhythmic bobbing of his Adam's apple accompanies each sip. Involuntarily, you shift in your seat, a futile attempt to dispel the growing sensation stirring between your thighs.
Breaking the spell, he speaks, his voice rough as he clears his throat, "Okay, I'll be your date."
A wave of relief washes over you, and gratitude spills forth, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. You're so perfect. My family will love you."
A quizzical expression lingers on Javi's face as he asks, "Why don't you get a real date?" Despite knowing you could have your pick of anyone, there's genuine happiness in his eyes—an unspoken relief that you won't be taking another man to meet your family.
You sigh and offer an explanation, “I haven't met anyone, and it's pretty weird to introduce some stranger to your entire family on the first date. "Ya te dije (I already told you), my family keeps pestering me about getting a boyfriend. It's the same thing every Christmas, '¿nena y el novio? (baby girl and the boyfriend?)’ 'Mami, quiero que conozcas al sobrino de la vecina de mi comadre. (Mami, I want you to meet my friend’s neighbor's nephew.)’ '¿Mija, ya tienes novio? ('Mija, do you already have a boyfriend?)’ I love them, and they mean well, but I can't take any more of it. Hopefully, when I show up and say that we're just getting to know each other, it will shut them up until New Year's. But by then, I'll tell them we work better as friends, and they'll pity me, so I'll be off the hook for maybe two years."
A knowing look crosses Javi's face as he probes, "And this has nothing to do with the fact that Caleb will be there?"
You groan at the mention of your ex-boyfriend's name. "A little bit," you mumble, slumping in your chair as thoughts of him flood your mind. "He's probably going to bring some girl, and if I show up alone," you pause, giving Javi a sweet smile, "without my best friend, my family will find out I had a boyfriend and I kept it from them."
You didn't mean to keep your relationship with Caleb hidden. You just didn't want to tell your family you had a boyfriend, in case the relationship failed—and guess what, it did. Two months into your relationship, you found out he was still talking to his ex, and you dumped him before shit got worse. Fortunately, your decision to keep your family in the dark spared you from telling them about Caleb, so you didn't have to share the news about the breakup, which, unfortunately for you, meant you had to see him at parties since his parents were friends with your uncle.
"Why don't we tell them we're in a relationship? Like, boyfriend and girlfriend," Javi suggests, attempting to sound confident, though inwardly, he's praying you won't freak out and shoot down the idea.
You blink, momentarily caught off guard and unsure of how to respond. Javier panics at your silence and rushes to add, "I mean, they already know who I am, and we know everything about each other. It would be more believable."
Chewing on your lip, you contemplate what he's proposed. It would be convincing, you think.
“Are there any embarrassing moments that your family will bring up that I should be aware of, my beautiful girlfriend?” Javi teases, a playful glint in his eyes.
In response, you roll up a napkin, forming a makeshift ball, and throw it at him, the projectile hitting him directly on the forehead. Javi grumbles good-naturedly, a blend of irritation and laughter, and you purposely ignore the flutter in your heart. "No, you’ll never hear those."
“Okay fine,” Javi huffs, a mock pout on his face. “What’s the story then?”
"Story? For what?" you ask, genuinely puzzled.
Javi looks at you as if you're not making the slightest bit of sense. “The story we’ll tell your family. You know they'll ask us so many questions.”
He's right. Your family will undoubtedly bombard you both with questions, seeing as they only know him as your friend and not the guy you've been secretly harboring feelings for.
"I mean, in movies, they always seem to have background stor-" Javi abruptly stops, hoping you don't make the connection about the kind of movies he's referring to.
But, of course, you catch it. “¿Aww, te gustan los romcoms, Javi? (Aww, do you like romcoms, Javi?)”
"¡No!" He blurts out, his face turning a shade of red that extends from his face to the tips of his ears. "We've just- we need to establish a timeline."
Watching him stumble through the sentence, you decide to spare him further embarrassment. "Mmm... we can say we've been dating for a month. It's enough that they won't scold me for not telling them about the relationship earlier, right?"
"We can say I asked you out right after Thanksgiving, so that gives us a little over a month since Thanksgiving was on the 22nd."
"Okay, yeah, that sounds good. And are you okay with staying over at my aunt's house since we'll be drinking? Or do you want to drive back to your apartment after we say our goodbyes?"
"Wait, your aunt with the big-ass house is hosting Christmas for your family this year?" He asks, sitting straighter in his chair. Javi's excitement is palpable as you nod. "Yeah, I'm staying over," he declares.
“Trae dos mudas de ropa (bring two changes of clothes)," you instruct him.
“¿Pjs y algo para la recalentada? (Pjs and something for the afterparty?)” Javi guesses but needs confirmation, not wanting to make a fool of himself. In fact, he's determined to make a good impression on your family.
"Mhm," you hum in agreement and then ask him about his previous plans. "You said you weren't going to spend Christmas with your family. Are you sure?"
"My dad's going to Monterrey, and I didn't get my passport renewed, and it's too late now. It's fine; I like spending time with your family." I like spending time with you.
"You just want to get fed," you tease.
"How'd you know," he goes along with your teasing tone.
“Ya te conozco (I already know you),” you tell him, and Javi feels butterflies in his stomach.
Your phone vibrates on top of the white and blue plaid tablecloth. You pick it up and see a notification that your Christmas dress is ready for pickup. "Oh shit, I've gotta go pick up my dress." You scramble to get up and collect your trash.
Javi gently grabs your wrist and tells you, “Ve. Te tiro tu basura. (Go. I'll throw your trash away.)"
Your breath hitches at his touch, and you thank him. You drop your Coke can and take a few steps until you reach him. "You're the best. I love you." You lower yourself a bit to give him a kiss on the cheek. His heart races, and he's scared you'll see him turn beet red, so he stands up and envelops you in a hug. He's hit with your smell, and a groan nearly falls from his lips.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8," he says in a shaky voice, whispering into your ear. Grateful for the long-sleeve shirt you decided to wear that morning, your skin breaks into goosebumps around his body. "That's still early, you know?" you object into his chest.
Feeling the lower half of his body respond to having you so close, he pulls away, not wanting to scare you or make you uncomfortable. “¿Entonces a las ocho y media? (So at eight-thirty?)” he asks, now standing a couple of steps away from you.
"See you then," you nod. Glancing at your watch, you realize you really have to get going.
"What color will your dress be?" he asks before you leave.
"Red," you smile, swinging your bag over your shoulder.
Javi gulps; red is his favorite color. He wonders if he'll be able to handle seeing you in it while pretending to be your boyfriend.
"Bye, te veo mañana (see you tomorrow),” you say goodbye one last time.
"Bye," he waves and watches you walk off. As soon as you're out of his view, he's left standing there, hands on his face, and he groans into his palms. Yeah, he doesn't know how he'll get through tomorrow night pretending he's in love with you because he is in love with you but can't show it.
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Just as you apply the last coat of lipstick in your foyer mirror, you hear a knock on your door. Palms slightly damp, you start second-guessing taking Javi to your family party. You hear him say your name through the locked door and quickly tell him you're coming. With a slightly trembling hand, you turn the doorknob, your heart thudding in your chest at the sight of Javi. He's wearing a black leather jacket over a red cable-knit sweater, and God, he smells amazing—tones of sage, wood, and maybe some bergamot. All you know is that you want to push him against the door and put your mouth all over him—mouth, neck, chest, cock—you don't have a preference.
While you're busy ogling him, Javi is staring at you with his jaw near the floor. You're in a burgundy dress with black flowers all over, accentuating your beautiful figure. He makes a mistake when his gaze moves up, landing on your lips. Javi has to bite his tongue to suppress a groan at the sight of your luscious red-stained lips. They look so plush and enticing, and he twitches in his pants.
"Hi, Jav," you greet him in your sweet voice, making him look into your eyes.
The way your eyes sparkle, almost makes him lose his composure and profess his feelings for you. "¿Estas lista? (Are you ready?)" He says instead. 
"I just need to get my gifts," you point to the large gift bag you have set on the floor of your foyer. You only have two gifts in the much too large bag because your family does Secret Santa since it would be rather expensive to get each member of your family a gift. When you bend down to grab your things, Javi gets a perfect view of your round ass. He can't tear his eyes from you until he feels himself growing in his pants. He exhales trying to will his hard-on to go away. On his fifth breathing exercise, you turn around and tell him you're ready to go. Ever the gentleman, he signals for you to step out of your home first. 
"I just need to get my gifts," you point to the large gift bag set on the floor of your foyer. You only have two gifts in the much too large bag because your family does Secret Santa, as it would be rather expensive to get each member of your family a gift. When you bend down to gather your things, Javi gets a perfect view of your round ass. He can't tear his eyes away until he feels himself growing in his pants. He exhales, trying to will his hard-on to go away. On his fifth breathing exercise, you turn around and tell him you're ready to go. Ever the gentleman, he signals for you to step out of your home first.
As you brush past him, he's hit with the aroma of your perfume, and the sweetheart line of your dress offers a perfect view of your cleavage. He has to close his eyes to focus on anything else. After you lock up, he leads you to his car, takes the bag from you, and uses his free hand to help you down the steps. He opens the passenger door, puts your bag in the back seat, and goes to his seat to start the truck. You watch as he reverses, placing a hand behind your seat's headrest. His single hand moves the steering wheel, and you have to physically stop a whine from slipping past your mouth by biting your lip. You feel the wetness accumulate between your thighs, and you don't know how you'll get through the night.
The car ride over was hell on earth for both of you. Javi had to resist the urge to reach over and place his hand on your perfect thighs and move it further up. And you had to watch as Javi handled the gear stick with his big hands and thick fingers. You're both relieved to make it to your aunt's house. Javi insists on opening the door for you, and when he helps you get out of his truck, he gives you his hand to guide you. Next thing you know, he's taking the items from the back seat. Javi swings a backpack filled with his stuff, including clothes, and the bag where you have your gifts. You take it from him without him noticing, and he takes out a chocoflan.
You hear the house door open, and people beckon you over. Javi closes the door and takes your hand in his. He leads you up to the entrance, and you hear gasps and mutters coming from your family.
“¡Ay, mi sobrinita! (Oh, my little niece!)" one of your uncles yells as you're inches away from the door.
“¡Tío!” you exclaim, happy to see him. Before you can say anything else, he gives you a bear hug. You slowly push off to turn to Javi, who is still holding your hand. “Tío, this is Javier, my boyfriend." Your uncle's eyes widen a little, but it's quickly replaced with joy.
“Javi, él es mi tío Nicolás, es el tío de mi papá (Javi, this is my uncle, Nicolás, he's my dad's uncle)," you explain to your boyfriend for the night.
Javi gently untangles your laced hands and extends his hand to your uncle. “Buenas noches. ¿Cómo está? (Good evening! How are you?)"
“Hola, Chavalo. Bien gracias (Hey, kid. Fine, thanks)," your uncle replies and shakes Javi's hand. "And you?"
Their handshake ends and Javi pulls you into his side. "Me alegra. Estoy muy bien ya que estoy con ella (I'm glad to hear that. I'm very well now that I'm with her),” Javi tells your uncle, giving him a dashing smile while he gives you a lovey-dovey look.
You don't know who is happier at Javi's response—your uncle or you. "Oh, here, I brought dessert," Javier hands your uncle Nicolás the custard dessert with a chocolate cake base.
“Come in, come in,” the older man ushers you inside the house.
“Miren quien llegó (Look who arrived),” your uncle's voice rumbles throughout the house. Footsteps make their way to you three, and your family's faces light up. Voices overlap, greeting you, but they seem confused over the man beside you.
“¡Hola!” you smile. "This is Javi, he's my boyfriend," you introduce, rubbing his arm.
Javi doesn't get a word in because your cousin slaps his back and says, “¡Habla, pe causa!” Javi smiles and tells him good evening.
Once your cousin goes away, you whisper to Javi, "That was César, and he said, 'What's up, man.'"
"I knew that," Javi lies, running his tongue over his cheek.
“¡Como que ya tienes novio! (What do you mean you have a boyfriend!)" a familiar voice screeches from the living room.
You cringe as you hear your mom's angry voice and your dad telling her to calm down. Fuck, I forgot I have to tell my parents about Javi, you think.
When your parents see Javi, they physically relax. "Javi!" She gasps. “¿Él es tu novio? (He's your boyfriend?)” Your mom asks.
“Él es mi novio,” you confirm. Javi's heart leaps because somehow in Spanish, you calling him your boyfriend sounds a million times better.
"¡Ay, qué alegría! (Oh, what joy!)" She says and clasps her hands. For a long time, she's asked you if you two are anything more than friends, and she's always disappointed when you say no.
"I'm happy for you, mija," your dad tells you, hugging you.
"Thank you, Dad," you say relieved at their quick acceptance of Javi.
"Tu mamá está muy feliz (Your mom is very happy). It's just that you told your aunt first, and she was blindsided," your dad fills you in, and you hear your name being called. You whip your head to the kitchen and see your aunt coming to you with her arms extended.
“Titi Yalissa," you muffle into her curly hair. Your aunt jumps up and down with you in her arms. "Oh, I missed you so much," she says and lets go of you once she remembers what you told her. "Where's your boyfriend?"
You grab Javi's hand and bring him closer to your aunt. "Javi, this is my aunt Yalissa."
“Titi, this is the guy I told you about. His name is Javier."
"Es un placer conocer al hombre que tiene a mi niña tan feliz (It's a pleasure to meet the man who has my little girl so happy)."
Javier smiles at your aunt's happiness and decides to comment on her house and thank her for the invitation. "It's my pleasure. Tiene una casa hermosa (you have a beautiful house)," he pauses to look over at you, “como su sobrina (like your niece). Thank you for inviting me." Your heart thuds in your chest at Javi's words.
Everyone around you coos and awws, and you feel your ears burn.
"Let me show you your rooms, so you can set your things."
You and Javi follow your aunt up the stairs and into the hallway. She comments on how good you two look together and how it's adorable that you're matching. Her observation catches you off guard, and you look at both of your outfits. Oh my God! Is that why he asked me what color my dress was? Did he want to match? While you're lost in thought, you miss Javi's charming words about how perfect you look.
"Javi, this will be your room," your aunt points at a room on the left side. She says your name and then points at the room at the end of the hall, "Your room is still untouched, and you have your clothes there if you need anything."
Someone calls her from the kitchen, and she apologizes, telling you to come downstairs when you're ready for some food.
When Javier hears her descend the stairs, he asks you, "We're not sharing a room?"
"No. She's kinda against pre-marital sex."
Javi shoots you a look that says he knows you haven't made a vow of chastity.
"Okay, she doesn't know that," you say.
Javi sets his backpack in his room, and you make your way to the small dining room.
"Nena (babygirl), how are you?”
“Tía Mercedes!” you scream once another one of your aunts comes into view.
“Every day you get more and more beautiful!” she says to you. “Oh, and where is that boyfriend of yours? Tu tío Beto me dijo que vos ya tenés uno (Your uncle Beto told me you already have one.)”
For what feels like the hundredth time, you introduce Javi. Your aunt gushes over him and is scandalized when she hears he hasn’t eaten yet.
“No puedo creer que no les han dado nada de comer (I can't believe they haven't given you anything to eat). Come here.” She leads you to where the food is laid out, and to say it’s a lot is an understatement.
"Okay, so we’ve got croquetas, empanadas, ceviche, tamales, pasteles, chuchitos, pan con pollo, carne asada, hallacas, chimichurri, tostones, hornado de chancho, pavo al horno, chipa, pan dulce, y no se qué más." Your aunt lists off the myriad of food, whether it’s side dishes or main courses.
“And to drink, there’s coquito, champurrado, atol, ponche, arroz con leche, café con queso, chocolate caliente. If you want something else, you can ask Beto. It’s probably in the kitchen.”
You and Javi grab whatever you crave and add it to your plate before heading to the larger dining room. Everything had been going well until you saw your ex. Javi noticed you tense up, and he followed your line of sight, landing on your ex-boyfriend, Caleb. With food and drinks in his hands, Javi couldn’t physically comfort you. A soft whisper from him, a simple “Hey,” was enough to unfreeze you, and you both walked to your seats, strategically far away from Caleb and his girlfriend.
Dinner went by smoothly. Your family was eager to learn about the new man in your life, and you explained that before becoming your boyfriend, he had been your best friend and someone you trusted with your life. One of your little cousins was curious about how he asked you to be his girlfriend. To your surprise, Javi spun an elaborate story about taking you stargazing and making it official under the night sky. He described the story with such vivid detail that it brought tears to your eyes, and your family found it incredibly heartwarming. Little did they know, part of those tears were tinged with sorrow, knowing that after this night, the charade of this "relationship" would come to an end. The other part of you felt pure love for Javi, appreciating the effort he was putting into making your family believe in your fake romance.
After clearing the plates and sharing the story, Javi couldn’t help but notice Caleb shooting daggers his way. Frankly, he didn’t care about Caleb's feelings, but when he saw him staring at you, Javi couldn’t suppress the desire to leap across the table and strangle him. Thankfully, one of your cousins interrupted and announced that a game of lotería would be played outside if anyone wanted to join.
You take your cup of ponche, and Javi grabs his cup of atol as you both make your way to the backyard, where a table is already set up for the game. Soon, the table of 25 is full, and some have to wait for the next round. With beans in hand, you eagerly listen for the first card to be called.
“Ahí les va la primera tarjeta (Here comes the first card),” Uriel, your favorite cousin's husband, warns. He shuffles the cards in the deck and flips the first one over.
“La Sirena (the siren).”
You squeal and instantly put your bean on top of the square where a siren is underwater. You hear groans from the people who didn’t have the siren on their cards. Javi, not having much luck, simply watched you with the biggest smile, reveling in your excitement over the lead.
Uriel flips the next card and announces, “La Luna (the moon).”
This time, neither you nor Javi has luck. Displeased, you watch as Caleb places a bean on his card.
“¡El soldado! (The soldier!)”
You look at your card—nothing. You look at Javi’s card—still nothing. A feeling of being watched makes your head turn to Caleb, and he’s smirking at Javi because he got another bean on his table. “Not good at lotería,” Caleb tuts, “is there something you’re actually good at?” he says condescendingly. 
You have half a mind to tell him all the ways Javi is perfect, even throwing in a few lies about your fake intimate life, but Javi rests his right hand on your thigh, and just like that, all your hatred bubbles away.
“Before I call the next one, does anyone have all three characters?” Whoops and cheers come from a few uncles, cousins, and family friends. “Okay, does anyone have a line nearly filled?” Uriel asks another question, and this time is met with silence.
“Bueno (Oh well),” he moves on and pulls from the deck, “La maceta (flowerpot).” You wish you had one of those to throw at Caleb’s head. Your wish is answered when someone yells, “¡Aguas!” You and Javi instantly duck, and much to your dismay (not), Caleb doesn’t, and the flying rag hits him right between his eyes. He groans in pain and starts to pick a fight with Marta, one of your cousins. Marta's fiancé stands up for your cousin, “Sos un hijo de remil putas. He told you to watch out. It's your fault you didn't listen." Everyone agrees with Flavia, and they tell Caleb he should've ducked. Your ex finally shuts up, and your family urges Uriel to draw the next card.
“El cotorro (the parrot)." Javi moves quickly and places the bean he's had in his hand for a while. You're so happy for him; that you nearly spill your drink onto the table.
A few more cards are drawn, and you haven't made as much progress, but Javi, on the other hand, has his card nearly full of beans. He needs four consecutive beans in a straight line, but he's missing two beans to win.
“La mano (The hand)." 
“Concha-tu-madre,” an uncle seethes in frustration as he doesn't have the hand on his card, but you know who does—Javi. 
“Ya me agüitaron (Ya’ll bummed me out). I'm going to put on music," your cousin, Darío, says, abandoning the game and hooking up his phone to the speaker. 
“El árbol (the tree.)” You sigh in disappointment as the last character Javi needs isn't called.
Music and various curse words fill the air, including but not limited to coño, jueputa, mamaguevo, japiro. 
"We have four potential winners," Uriel announces, "Y ahora... el gorrito (and now... the little hat)." 
“Mierda,” Javi's voice falls into a whisper because he doesn't have that card. By this point, he's memorized the entirety of his table, and when the hat was called, he knew it wouldn't be on his card.
You look around the table and see that Javi is among three people who need one more bean to win. 
"Let's see," Uriel says as he shuffles the cards. “El valiente (the brave man)” is yelled, and before you can react, Javi screams, "Lotería!" 
Everyone whips their head to your 'boyfriend,' and Uriel rushes to check Javi's card. You're filled with joy and practically bouncing in your seat. 
"We have a winner!" Uriel whoops, patting Javi's shoulder. 
"Beso, beso, beso (kiss, kiss, kiss)" your family chants, wanting you to celebrate with your boyfriend. Your breathing labors, and you don't know how to get out of it. Luckily, you get called to the kitchen, and Javi looks relieved. Your heart drops. He didn't want to kiss me. You excuse yourself and hurriedly make your way to the kitchen.
Javi's left in his seat trying to regulate his heartbeat. He didn't want to kiss you. Not because he didn't want to. God, he wanted to taste your lips, but he's scared that if he kisses you, he'll never stop.
In the kitchen, you scoop food into Tupperware for you and Javi, when you hear a man say, "You said he was just a friend,” the voice accuses. 
"Caleb," you spit with venom.
"You're with him now?" he asks hands in his pant pockets.
"I am. And I'm very happy with Javi," you say simply, adding rice to your blue Tupperware container.
"Come on, we were so good together. Don't you remember? We could be great again. Don't you want that?"
"No is the answer to every single thing you just said."
"What's so special about him? You didn't want to tell your family about us, but you bring him around?" Your ex is furious. When he saw you walk in with that dress and with Javi, hands intertwined and looking up at him like he was the best prize, he nearly lost it.
You turn around with your back to the entrance of the second dining room and point the spatula at your ex. "What isn't special about Javi is the better question. He's sweet, kind, determined, funny, and everything you're not. That's not all I love about him though; he makes me feel loved and heard, and he's my best friend. Javi is everyone's dream."
Caleb scoffs, and his only defense is, "What kind of name is Javi?"
You feel a possessive hand on your stomach, and it moves you back towards the owner's body. No, no, I can take care of this myself, you think, and then his cologne hits your nose, and you feel the warmth of his body, and your mantra of standing up by yourself evaporates.
"What kind of name is Caleb? Why don't you go back to your ex and leave my girlfriend alone?" Javier says, voice deeper than usual, making the rat of your ex retreat with his tail between his legs.
"Want me to kick his ass?" Javi questions.
"Nah, I have a feeling it'll ruin the holiday spirit. Thank you for that though."
You realize he could've heard your conversation with Caleb and ask, "How much of that did you hear?"
"When he made fun of my name, which is fantastic, by the way," he responds.
"Javi is a fantastic name," you assure him, "Javi," you say his name, testing it like it's the first time saying his name.
Javi nearly facepalms himself because hearing his name falling from your lips is making him harden again. Not to mention how you defended him to your ex. He's never heard kinder words about himself until you. Lately, Javi has felt like a failure. He failed to get into the DEA academy, and it was terrifying to think he would feel like that for the rest of his life. But when he's in your presence, everything else just melts away.
"How was my family while I left you unsupervised?" You ask, resting your head on his chest.
"Great. One of your cousins talked about the fact that the Christmas celebration was a pagan holiday and another about companies making a fortune based on Christmas. Your uncle, Ramon, I think started talking about los terrenos y le quitaron la corona (inherited land and they took away his corona beer.)”
"Oh god," you sound horrified, "I'm sorry about my family."
Javi slides his hands up and down your arms, "you have nothing to be sorry for. Mi familia también es así o peor (my family is like that or worse)." He knows he shouldn't say the words but can't help himself, "Our kids will have the biggest family."
Your mouth drops in surprise, and your mind flashes with images of you having a family with Javi, and your heart feels like it can explode.
"Your cousin was behind you," Javi says, looking past you.
A wave of disappointment washes over you. "Oh."
Javi lied. He didn't say that to convince your family about your relationship; he said it because he meant it.
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The clock strikes 12 AM, beginning the 25th of December, and you all have to give out hugs to every single person at the party. Thankfully, it won't be awkward since Caleb and his plus-one left an hour ago. You get hugs from your entire family, and they each tell you how much they love you and how proud they are of you. When you reach Javi, you go for a side hug, but he pulls your face into his chest, and you exchange ‘feliz navidads.’ His smell is so comforting you want to stay there forever. You don’t pull away until someone announces it’s time to open gifts.
You take out the large wrapped box inside the bag you brought and give the gift to your little cousin, Gio. You bought him plenty of Hot Wheels and a racetrack that will take up a significant amount of space in his living room. Gio leaps into your arms and tells you you’re the ‘bestest cousin in the world.’ Your older cousin tells you she’ll give you her gift before going upstairs to the balcony to see the fireworks.
When Sandra leaves, Javi calls your attention. "Amor ven," the nickname falls easily from his beautiful lips; it makes you swoon. He pats the seat next to him, and in a few seconds, you’re next to him.
“I got you something,” Javi says nervously reaching into his pants pocket. He retrieves a square box and hands it to you gently like he’s scared you’ll move your hand and drop it.
You take the box fully into your hand. You lift the top, and your eyes begin to water. You scold yourself internally that this shouldn’t make you cry, but the beautiful necklace makes it impossible not to. It’s not because it’s a pretty necklace but you’re tearing up because of the letter attached to the gold chain – a J for Javier.
Javi misconstrues your tears for hatred. “I can exchange it for something else,” he’s quick to spit out."
“I love it, Javi,” you promise, words dripping with sincerity. “¿Me lo pones? (Can you put it on me?)” you ask him, getting ready for him to clasp the necklace.
His fingertips make contact with your nape, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You briefly wonder if that will happen every time you make the slightest contact tonight. Javi adjusts the necklace and clasps it, ensuring he doesn’t accidentally get some of your skin, which he was afraid he’d do because his hands were developing a thin layer of sweat.
“Done,” he tells you breathlessly, and you turn around to show him.
He feels ridiculous that seeing his initial on your chest makes him go crazy. Yes, part of him feels beyond happy that you liked your gift. When he was shopping, trying to find you a gift, he stumbled upon a jewelry store, and he knew he had to get it for you. He didn’t buy it to ‘brand you’. Javi genuinely wanted you to carry a part of him, just like he always carries you everywhere he goes.
You hear the first fireworks go off, and Javi says, “Ya es hora para los cuetes (it’s time for the fireworks).” He helps you get up, and everyone makes their way up the mahogany stairway. You meet Sandra on the 2nd floor, and she gives you a white and red striped metallic-wrapped box. That childhood excitement of opening presents is still there. You feel giddy and tug at the taped ends to rip the paper. Once you’re able to see a sliver of the actual gift, you hold it to your chest.
“Sandra! You did not just gift me a sex toy!” You whisper-yell, the shock and embarrassment evident in your tone.
Sandra was known for being direct; she was your older cousin but more of a big sister. She had been a reliable source of guidance, especially when it came to your body, relationships, and intimacy. In fact, you had learned more from her than from your mandatory sixth-grade sex Ed class. You'd often sought her advice, grateful for her non-judgmental attitude. Sandra was always there to help, whether it was explaining innuendos or first-period crises. You remember when you got your first period, you ran to her after your mom called her for moral support. So, in a way, you shouldn't have been surprised by the gift when you complained to her about your trusty wand giving up on you.
“I recall getting a phone call telling me one of your favorites was no longer working. But with that boyfriend of yours, I don’t think you’ll be needing this, so I can take it back,” she smirks, enjoying making you flustered and sputtering on your words.
“A gift is a gift. You can’t take it back,” you argue, hugging it further into your chest. With the night you’ve had, you’re 100% certain the toy will have its grand premiere.
“Ooo using it with your man tonight to spice things up, I like that.”
You turn around and see Javi standing there with his hands by his side. His pretty lips are parted in an ‘o,’ and you can’t believe he just saw your cousin gifting you a sex toy for Christmas.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Sandra gives you a peck on the cheek and slips past you to go to the stairs and up another floor.
“Woah. That’s certainly a gift,” Javi states.
You want the ground to swallow you whole. Here you are hugging a fucking sex toy in the middle of the hallway with the man you love staring at the gift.
“I’m going to put this in my room,” you say robotically and make a run for your room. Oh my god, oh my god, he did not just see that. With the box still in your arms, hoping you don’t run into anyone, you open the door to your room just enough to slip inside and shut the door. Your heart is beating erratically, and you consider staying in your room for the rest of the night, but you know they’ll be calling for you soon. You finally unlock your arms and take the gift into your hands. There’s still wrapping paper covering the gift, so you take it off and take in the toy for the first time. You mistook the handle for a dildo. It wasn’t a plastic dick you thought you received; it was a clit stimulator. Color? Red.
After you placed your new gift on top of your bed and covered it with a sweater, you found the courage to face Javi. You opened your door and found Javi with his fist raised as if he was a second away from knocking.
“Let’s go,” you croak, hoping he won’t ever bring up what happened a few minutes ago.
Javi wordlessly agrees, and you both walk to the stairs in silence to go to the balcony. As you approach the final stairs, you hear more fireworks go off, but their timing isn’t consecutive, so you know the big event is yet to come. Once you’re outside, near the entrance, there’s a table with drinks that range from alcohol to traditional beverages to a mix. You take a Corona, and Javi picks up a glass of coquito. The balcony is packed, but it's big enough that you don’t feel like packed sardines. Music is blasting on the speakers; some of your family is off dancing, and some men are huddled around talking about work, while your younger cousins are playing with their new toys in a corner. You still haven’t talked to Javi, and it’s slowly killing him. He didn’t mean to embarrass you by walking in on Sandra giving you your gift, but when he overheard the term 'sex toy,' it was as if an invisible force nailed him to the floor. Javi racks his brain for how to start a conversation with you. He knows the firework show will commence any minute now, and he won’t be able to get a word in.
"You look beautiful," he blurts out before his brain can catch up with his mouth. Okay, not what he wanted to start off with, but it’s definitely not a lie.
“Thank you,” you say sheepishly as the fireworks start going off one after another.
“I mean, you look beautiful every day,” Javi says in the midst of a chrysanthemum exploding in the sky.
"What?" you reply, struggling to make out his words over the resounding explosions.
Once the sounds die down, your aunt Odilia passes by, catching sight of you and Javi standing closer, facing each other. “¿Como están los enamorados? (How are the lovebirds?),” she says with adoration before moving on. Her statement prompts a few head turns from your family, who go on to comment about how cute you look with your boyfriend.
"I said," Javi begins, lowering himself to your ear, "You look beautiful. You always do, but tonight..." He stands up straight, locking eyes with you. Javi delicately strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Es como si me hubieras puesto bajo tu hechizo (It’s like you’ve put me under your spell),” he confesses softly, his voice filled with adoration.
You find yourself unable to conjure a reply. Your entire focus is consumed by him—the way he smiles, the dimple on full display, the stray curls tousled from dancing, and the warmth of his fingers against your cheek. His nails graze your skin ever so slightly, leaving you questioning if it's a figment of your imagination. A fleeting thought crosses your mind, wondering what it would be like to feel his nails embedded into your hips as he guides you in rhythmic movement. Taking a deep breath to regain composure, you inhale his scent, causing your head to spin. In the midst of your reverie, Javi's voice pulls you back.
"Your family is expecting a kiss. May I?" he asks, breaking the spell.
"What?" you respond, dumbfounded. While you heard him, the question leaves you in disbelief.
“¿Te puedo besar?” he repeats, his heart seemingly pounding out of his chest, laying his intentions bare.
As you nod and rasp out a breathless "yes,", Javi cups your cheeks with a gentle urgency, bringing his lips to yours in a passionate collision. It feels like heaven with his mouth molding seamlessly with yours. His taste is a delightful concoction of coconut, Don Q rum, cinnamon, and condensed milk—remnants of the coquito he had earlier. In the intoxicating embrace, you clutch his shirt, pulling him closer, savoring every fleeting second because it could be the first and last kiss you'll ever share.
Opening your mouth wider, you send a silent invitation, and he responds, his tongue tangling with yours, the passionate sounds blending harmoniously with the distant fireworks. Amid the explosive bursts in the night sky, the sounds of your fervent kiss are almost lost, and worked up and lost in the moment, you can't help but whimper into his mouth. When the sound of your own desire reaches Javi's ear, he knows he should pull away before the intensity escalates. Reluctantly, Javi breaks the kiss, mindful of the familial audience surrounding you. Both your chests rise and fall in tandem, the shared breathlessness lingering in the air. The post-kiss silence is punctuated by the distant echoes of the ongoing fireworks.
Separated but still entwined in the magic of the moment, you catch your breath. You admire the way Javi's brown eyes reflect the vibrant colors bursting in the sky. Javi gazes back into your eyes, marveling at the way they brighten with each explosion in the sky. It's a parallel to his own feelings as if miniature fireworks detonate in his heart whenever he looks at you. His earlier realization holds true; having kissed you, he never wants to stop.
"Okay, well, I'm going to bed," you say, gesturing toward the door, your eyes avoiding his gaze.
“Buenas noches,” he replies, a tinge of sadness coloring his voice.
You steal one last glance at him and urge yourself to get to your room before you throw your friendship down the drain for another kiss. So that’s what you do; you open the door, whisper one last goodbye, and shut the door. Javi closes his eyes, scolding himself for making things awkward. As he goes to his room, he focuses on thinking about what to do to fix your friendship. One thing he knows is that he can’t lose you.
Inside your room, you press against the wooden door. You have no idea how you’ll get through tomorrow, much less through the rest of your life. our eyes wander around, taking in the familiar walls of the room. You’ve had your own room at your aunt's house since you were a little girl, and there are some things that have remained the same. There's a shelf against a wall that contains a few of your stuffed animals from your childhood. You took down your posters from when you were a teen but kept the same paint color of dark red because you knew you couldn’t have your room all black. 
Realizing you still wear Javi's jacket, you gently remove it, placing it on your bed. You hate that it looks like it belongs in your room. You sigh and go to your bathroom to get ready to toss and turn in your bed.
In the midst of removing your makeup, having already brushed your teeth, a soft knock interrupts the quiet solitude of your room. Confused, you quickly dry your face and rush to open the door, wondering who it could be. It’s Javi. He's outside your door, his hair a mess like he ran his hands through it repeatedly.
"Can I come in?" he asks, his eyes searching yours.
"Javi! They'll kill me if they see you in my room," you whisper.
"Please, cariño?" 
His tone is filled with a vulnerability that softens your resolve. You take a quick glance down the hallway and find it deserted, so you quickly pull him into your room and shut the door quietly. As you assess him, clad in grey sweats and a black long-sleeve compression shirt, a rush of desire floods your body. Thoughts of peeling off his clothes and kissing him all over stir a wetness between your legs, leaving you certain your underwear is ruined after spending the day with Javi. 
"I'm sorry," he interrupts your dirty thoughts, and confusion crosses your face.
Sorry? Why is he sorry?
He sees the confusion written all over your face and continues, “I’m sorry for kissing you.”
What?
“If I knew it would make you uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have done it. Your friendship means the world to me. I’m sorry I ruined it. Cariño, what do I need to do to make us go back to normal? I’ll do anything,” Javi pleads with you.
You shake your head furiously. “No, Javi, you didn’t ruin anything. It didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you promise.
He breathes out a sigh of relief after you tell him he didn’t mess up the best thing that’s happened to him. “Why did you shut down after… after we kissed?”
“I don’t know, Jav,” you shrug, looking away. You feel your eyes sting at the tone of his voice. He sounds hurt. You've hurt the person you love, and you want to take him into your arms and apologize.
“Please don’t do that,” he implores, reaching for your hand. “Dime (tell me).”
A wave of apprehension washes over you; confessing your feelings is a leap into the unknown. You worry about the potential shift in dynamics, but you sense that Javi believes your withdrawal stems from him. “If I tell you, and you don’t like what I say, promise me we’ll forget this conversation,” you request, your lip caught between your teeth.
“What’s so bad you can’t tell me?” 
“Promise me, Jav,” you repeat, aware of the simplicity but needing that ounce of reassurance.
He nods solemnly. “Te lo prometo (I promise you).”
“Javi, I like you. So much,” your voice falls to a whisper. The ball is now in his court, freeing you from the weight of what-ifs.
Javi's reaction is priceless. The tension that once knitted his eyebrows together dissipates, giving way to a radiant smile that stretches from ear to ear. Leaning in, he cradles your chin in his hand and kisses you, a taste of mint lingering on his lips. This time, the kiss is tender, and gentle—a dance of shared feelings that leaves him dizzy and his stomach aflutter. As he withdraws, his forehead presses against yours.
“I like you too. For a long time now,” he confesses, the words clear and resolute.
“Really?” you ask incredulously, feeling like you're walking on air. This moment, a culmination of countless fantasies, was the very last scenario you expected to become reality.
“Yeah,” he affirms with a nod. The truth lingers on the tip of his tongue. “De hecho, te amo (In fact, I love you).”
“I love you too,” you reply with a smile, your hands slowly tracing up his chest. One hand passes his broad shoulders and reaches his nape. A gentle brush of your hands against his skin sends a surge of warmth through him. Your fingers run through his hair, eliciting a low groan from Javi, and you yearn to hear more.
“Javi, te necesito (Javi, I need you),” you murmur with half-lidded eyes.
He doesn't want to risk embarrassing himself with words, so he gently takes your hand off his hair and guides you towards your bed.
Walking with playful curiosity, he asks, "Am I the first guy you've sneaked into your room?"
"Mmm... I plead the fifth," you decide to answer coyly.
He narrows his eyes, "That's a yes then."
"¿Si te pones celoso, porque me preguntas? (If you get jealous, why would you ask me?)" you question him playfully as you hit the bed.
Javi's jaw ticks, and he says, "I'll make you forget about them."
His tone stirs a needy feeling in you, and you reply, " Sigue de perico, y no vamos hacer todo lo que quiero (Keep talking, and we won't be able to do everything I want)."
Tugging down on his shirt, you give him the signal. He promptly takes it off, treating you to your very own private show.
"Oh my god," you groan appreciatively when you see him shirtless—tan skin, toned stomach, and freckles on display. The grey sweatpants hang low on his hips, showcasing the V line and a dark patch of hair.
Javi revels in the effect he has on you. ”Turn around," he commands with dark eyes.
You instantly comply, spinning around so he can reach your zipper. Instead of tearing your dress off, he hugs you from behind.
“I don’t know if I told you before, but I really love this dress,” Javi says, running his hands over the velvet material. “Do you know how many times you made me hard tonight?” He confesses to having excused himself to the restroom multiple times to handle his hard-on discreetly.
"Javi," you whine impatiently, the revelation only intensifying the sticky mess between your thighs.
He pulls your zipper down, but you turn around, reaching your shoulders to slip the dress off, letting it pool on the hardwood floor.
"Dios mío (My God)," he exhales with a shaky breath.
"¿Te gusta? (Do you like it?)" you ask, referring to your lingerie that matches your dress. You're wearing a burgundy thong and a matching bra with lace material, revealing pebbled nipples. His fingers twitch, and he pulls you by the waist.
"Me encanta (I love it)," Javi whispers in your ear. His voice makes you slump against him as he unclasps your bra. “Why did you wear this?” he asks, his kisses trailing down your bare shoulder, devoid of judgment or ill will, just curiosity.
"You know what they say, 'to hope for the best, plan for the best.'"
"I don't think that's how it goes, baby," Javi chuckles into your shoulder and then presses his lips on your neck.
“Oh,” you say dumbly, savoring his kisses.
"Thank you for the outfit, my beautiful girl," he says, instructing you to get on the bed. As you settle on the mattress, you watch as Javi begins to remove his pants.
You watch in awe as his swollen cock presses against his stomach, and an undeniable desire to have it in your mouth engulfs you. Can a dick be pretty? God, his is so beautiful, you think to yourself. Javi gracefully crawls onto the bed, his hand reaching for your unclothed breasts.
“Mmm… so beautiful,” he hums, popping one of your tits into his mouth.
“Oh!” you exclaim, a mix of shock and pleasure coursing through you. Your arms extend onto the bed, and in the throes of passion, you accidentally hit something. The noise prompts Javi to lift his mouth from you and remove the blue sweater that conceals whatever your hands came in contact with. To his surprise, he discovers the present your cousin gifted you earlier.
“Clit and nipple stimulator,” he reads off the box.
Embarrassment washes over you, even though he just had your nipple in his mouth. Before you can say anything, Javi tears the box open and retrieves the toy. He presses the 'on' button, and it comes to life with a soft hum.
“Mi color favorito,” he says with a smirk.
Your brain struggles to form a coherent sentence. Javi sets the suction toy beside you and resumes attending to your nipples with his mouth. Lost in the sensation, your head falls back onto the bed. Suddenly, you feel a vibration around your other nipple. Lifting your head, you see Javi using the red wand on your right nipple.
“Oh God, Javi, I need you inside me,” you moan.
His response is muffled by your soft breasts. Gripping his hair, you lift him off you with a bit of force.
“I need to taste your pussy first,” he says with blown-out eyes.
“No,” you protest, craving him desperately.
It's not what he wanted to hear. “Please?” he insists. “I know I’ll cum embarrassingly fast, and I need to give you something before that happens.”
No. I want you now, you beautiful man. “Just a little bit,” you compromise. Normally, you'd eagerly jump at the prospect of him expressing a desire to eat your pussy, but you're so unbelievably turned on.
He toys with the band of your thong, and you lift your hips to let him remove it. Soon, they're in his hands, tossed aside on the floor. Laid bare for him, you're naked except for your jewelry. The gold 'J' nestles between your breasts, the left one still wet from his saliva, while your pussy glistens with slick accumulated throughout the night.
“Eres tan hermosa. Nunca he visto nada como tú y nada se compara (You're so beautiful. I've never seen anything like you, and nothing compares),” he confesses sincerely. Seeing you laid out before him, looking at him like he hangs the stars, leaves him breathless. He kneels on the floor, gently pulling your legs to be on either side of his face. Javi wastes no time as he begins to lick your cunt.
You gasp, placing one leg on his shoulder for added support. Responding to your silent request, Javi lifts your other leg onto his opposite shoulder.
“Ahh!” you cry out when his mouth presses closer onto your pussy, and he begins to devour you. His tongue explores, collecting all of your wetness into his mouth. Fuck, she tastes so good. I've been waiting to have her in my mouth for so long.
“So sweet, baby girl,” he murmurs between your thighs, causing vibrations that intensify the pleasure. You're already sweating and out of breath, unable to believe how quickly his mouth is bringing you to the edge.
He momentarily stops licking your folds and wraps his lips around your pearl. Your legs jerk, and you can't help but scream out his name. Javi quickly shushes you, urging you to be quiet, though his own noises betray the arousal he feels. He promises himself that once he can take you to his place, he'll never ask you to quiet down.
Opening your eyes, you're captivated by a sinful sight. Javi's intense and piercing gaze meets yours, the obsidian of his eyes seamlessly bleeding into the rich brown of his irises. Simultaneously, his tongue delves into your entrance, a sensation so electrifying that you can no longer endure the sweet torture.
“You’ve made me wetter, Javi, please fuck me.”
“No,” he objects.
“Javi por favor. Mañana podemos hacer de todo, pero te necesito ahora mismo (Javi, please. Tomorrow we can do everything, but I need you now.)”
He chides, “terca (stubborn girl),” but relents, releasing your legs. Taking matters into your own hands, quite literally, you guide him onto your bed, pushing him to lie back as you straddle him.
He believes he's died and gone to heaven, with you on top of him—a dream come true. “Condom?” he rasps out.
“I’m clean and on Nexplanon,” you nod toward your arm. “Are you okay with that?”
Feeling his cock pulse at the thought of being with you without a barrier, Javi nods vigorously and says, “Me matas bebita (you kill me, baby girl).”
His words draw a smile from you as you reach behind, feeling the velvety skin of his arousal in your hand. With deliberate slowness, you stroke him up and down.
“Uhh… fuck!” Javi groans, tossing his head back onto your pillow. The raw, guttural sounds escaping him become music to your ears, encouraging you to keep stroking him. Precome coats your hand, and you use it to slickly spread the moisture over him as makeshift lube. Javi continues panting, and you decide it's enough.
Rising on your knees, you guide him to your entrance. His head breaches you, and an involuntary whine escapes your lips.
“Oh,” you gasp, squirming on his lap. 
“Mmm!” Javi’s jaw drops, unable to believe that you're creating such intensity with just his tip inside
You ride him to open up, moving yourself on his head. “God, Javi!” your body burns as you straddle him. 
“Told you…” he pauses, gritting his teeth. “I should've s-tretched you.” 
You shake your head. “I can take you. I just- uh! I just need some time.” Javi is big and thick, prolonging the process, but you'd rather struggle than have him prep you.
As you keep bouncing on his tip, Javi thrusts up into you, causing both of you to moan. He places both hands, previously gripping your sheets, on either side of your waist, helping him fit more of his cock inside you. You rock back, feeling yourself open up, and you lower yourself down.
Your mouth hangs open, and you wail as the thickest part of him is embraced by your walls. Javi groans heavily and embeds his nails on your waist. You moan at the small ripple of pain and work yourself to sink down some more.
“I-I thought- ah! que me querías calladita, (that you wanted me to quiet down) and look at you…uhh louder than me.”
“You feel s-oh!” Javi can’t finish his response because you fully sit on his cock. Your hips are flush with his, and he swears he can cum this instant. 
“Hold on,” he tells you, breathing heavily, eyelids closed, and stilling you.
Once he feels he’s regained some composure, he lifts you off him. You slowly start to rock back and forth, chewing your lip to keep from screaming out. 
“Does it feel good?” Javi asks, eyes open once more.
You meet his dark eyes and moan, “Mhm, s-so good… Oh! Javi," you whine, "So big… you’re so big.”
He pulsates inside you, a low groan escaping his lips. "You can't say that," he mutters, shaking his head, not to express disagreement but to calm himself. Not yet, not yet, he chants. 
“Why not? It’s true.” You argue, throwing your head back at the pleasure coursing through your veins.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep going. Then I won’t earn first place for the best sex this room’s ever seen,” he laughs lightly to mask his mortification because he knows he’ll be cumming soon.
"You're so much better than anyone else,” you assure him, seeing through the self-deprecating comment he made.
He lights up at your praise. "Yeah?”
"Yes! You make me so full,” you sigh, bouncing on him a little faster. Your hand movement transitions from his hips to both hands sprawled on his abdomen. Pressing your body closer to him at an angle, both of you shake with pleasure. You keep rocking against him, and all he can do is watch. Javi takes in the way your breasts bounce and the way your necklace shines. Overcome with desire and possessiveness, he sits up suddenly, making you whine when you feel his sweaty and hot body against yours.
Javi seeks your mouth, and you eagerly comply. Your mouths crash, and it's all tongue and teeth. He's moving you slowly against him, but it's still a delicious sensation, and you can't help but moan into his mouth. The air in your lungs is slowly decreasing, so you pull away, and your head falls onto his shoulder. With your mouth away from him, he's able to wrap his arms around you and rock up, up, up with intensity. His pace ignites something within you, and you bite his wet tan skin to muffle your cries. Javi feels you tighten on him, and he pants out, “How are you so perfect? No entiendo (I don’t understand.)”
You can't answer him; you just bounce on him, feeling the telltale sensation of your lower stomach nearing the finish line.
“Amor,” he groans. The word sounds like sweet honey coming from Javi's lips, and it makes you gasp. Javi catches on and asks you, “¿Te gusta cuando te digo así? (Do you like it when I call you like that?)”
“Sí,” you confirm. He adjusts the angle of your legs, causing the wind to knock out of you, and the only words you're capable of saying are, “Amor, amor, amor…” This is the first time you've ever called Javi ‘amor’, and it does something to him. He knows he’s got a minute max before he blows his load.
Frantically, he takes one hand off your body and scrambles to find something on the bed. Lost in ecstasy, you don't notice, but then you feel a vibration on your pearled nub, and you jump from surprise. In an instant, you look down and see Javi has the red toy and is using it against your clit. Your eyes begin to water as you reel in the feeling of the man you love inside you and the delicious sucking of the toy.
You don't warn him; you don't even process the thought yourself, but you begin to shake on top of Javi. You feel every nerve in your body— all seven trillion of them—explode. You come in silence with your mouth into a perfect ‘o’. 
Javi doesn’t let up his ministrations; he keeps thrusting his hips upwards and using the red wand, prolonging your high. “That’s it, amor, you look so pretty cumming for me,” he whispers full of adoration. “Good girl, good girl,” he chants as he works you through the most intense orgasm of your life.
Javi bites his lower lip, determined to make this moment last longer; he never wants it to end. Once your vocal cords start functioning again, you cup his face with one hand and, with desperation, you tell him, "Ven, amor, relléname (Come, my love, cum in me).”
Javi feels like fireworks are going off in his body. He keens at your words filled with love and desire for him; he has no choice but to obey. The dam in his abdomen breaks, and “Ahh!” he groans, voice broken and raspy, letting go of the toy. You feel his hips stutter as they lose their steady rhythm, and he pulsates and spasms, the warmth of his seed fills you as he climaxes in ropes. Your body is overworked and sensitive, but you keep bouncing on him to milk every drop. You can't look away from him. His eyelids are heavy, his mouth is parted and panting as he moans and growls hoarsely, his neck is extended showing all the veins, and his skin is flushed in a beautiful red hue. Javi repeats your name over and over as his high washes over him. You caress his nape and run your fingers through his hair as he comes down from it. His spend and yours drip out of you and onto Javi.
"Holy fuck, that was amazing," Javi laughs, and you feel the rumble in his chest.
"Yeah?" you ask coyly.
“Best of my life," he sighs and rolls you over so you're underneath him.
You laugh and crane your neck to give him a peck on the corner of his mouth. God, that sound, Javi thinks. "I love you," he says, knowing he'll never stop telling you those three words.
"I love you," you echo. "Come on, let's sleep," you tell him.
"I've got to clean you up first," he says, climbing off and pulling out of you. You whine at the loss and miss him inside of you already.
His expression looks pained as he looks between your parted thighs, seeing his seed seeping out of your puffy cunt. Javi fights with himself as he debates leaving you with his cum inside. His index and middle fingers are taken by you and guided to your opening.
"Push it all inside," you command, knowing he doesn't really want to wipe it away.
"But your bed and—"
“Me vale (I don’t care)," you interrupt. Javi has always been concerned about how his actions affect you, and you find it sweet. However, you want this. You know he won’t give in to his desires if he thinks you don’t want this. So, you have to convince him you do. “Please,” and just like that, he’s collecting the creamy liquid around your labia and pressing it back inside you. 
You're oversensitive, but you melt at the feeling of his thick and long fingers inside you. Gripping onto his bicep, you savor the sensation as he makes sure most of the sticky substance goes back inside you. Whatever remnants are on his fingers, he sucks them and closes his eyes at the taste. You stare up at him and swear you could go another round if he didn’t fuck the energy out of you. 
“Should I go back to my room?” Javi asks. He doesn’t want to, but maybe you’d rather sleep alone.
“Please stay,” you tell him, gripping his arm tighter.
He nods. “Okay, baby, I’ll stay.” You sit up on your bed and undo your covers. Javi walks across the room to turn off the light, and when he comes back, you’re underneath your quilt. He climbs in next to you and extends his left arm so you can snuggle to his side. 
“Buenas noches, amor,” he whispers.
“Good night, amor. I can’t wait to wake up next to you,” you tell Javi before you drift to sleep.
In the silence, he admires your features and says, “I can’t wait to make you my wife and wake up next to you for the rest of our lives. Feliz Navidad, mi vida”
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Extended A/N: I wrote this when Frankie didn’t exist yet; I promise I just don’t write for Javi! 
The last chapter of IYW should be out next week if I’m able to recolor the gifs I need. Thank you for reading!
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