#y'all have NO idea how difficult it was to fit all these answers into the 80 character limit
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theevilcactus · 1 year ago
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Please reblog so I can get a larger sample size! not that this is an actual scientific study at all but still.
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ronearoundblindly · 6 months ago
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1, 11 and 23 for the bedrock and bluebrint babes please
I’m trying to figure out what I want to ask for Steve and the mermaid
Questions from this ask game and for the Bedrock & Blueprints series with Ari Levinson and best friend!reader.
*These drabble-answers are fine for all ages of reader. However, not all the linked stories within are. Your media consumption is your own responsibility!
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1. Describe their first date.
Oh boy, oh boy, who would think this would be so difficult to answer???
You had a fake date on Valentine's Day years ago, you've gone out just the two of you many times, and you 'get together' ::cough:: for the first time when Ari confesses his feelings...
That wasn't "a date" though.
Immediately after that is a bunch of trips back and forth from your apartment to your house, using his truck to move your furniture and boxes. He's hurriedly fixing up bits of your new property. He's spending the night when he works there late (almost every night after he finishes work-work). You two go to a pool party at one of your new neighbor's houses and continue to see José and Dimitri at the bar maybe once a week or so, but you and Ari are still secretive--or at least guarded--about such a huge shift in your relationship.
Honestly, I don't know which thing you two would pinpoint as the first date. I think the fact there's no exact end to your friendship or beginning to your romance is kinda perfect actually.
11. How do they feel about nicknames/pet names? If they like them, what pet names do they use? If they hate them, why do they feel that way?
'Old Man' and 'Kid,' obviously, and those names started as playfully derogatory but evolved into loving jokes. Both of you use them now to (gently) point out behavior you each know the other would like to outgrow: Ari doesn't want to be a stick in the mud or close-minded, and you don't want to be naïve.
There are...occasions where you and Ari are half-speaking to your daughter Rachel and referring to each other as 'mommy' and 'daddy.' Look, it bleeds into the bedroom sometimes, and I won't go so far as to say it's a kink, but y'all don't hate it. They're cheeky names in those situations, still loving jokes.
23. What are the defining characteristics of their relationship?
longterm support, consistency, respect
You know that feeling where you have a concept in mind, you know there's a word for it, but you can't find a way to search for it? That's what finding your person has been like. You had an idea of the pieces, you tried to search with a checklist, but the right person never manifested. You made adjustments to how exactly what you wanted could exist together in one love--perhaps he didn't have to be so perfect, perhaps he could have flaws, too--but after a while, you had to spend energy of thinking of other things.
In the background, things click in your brain. In the background of your daily life, Ari manifested.
He wasn't that person you were looking for to start. He had a concept for his own life that wasn't fully formed. He kinda lived like a nomad, and that made him very comfortable in the military, but later, that definition didn't quite fit him anymore.
You two grew differently, not apart.
I'm going to stress here that consistency does not exclude evolving. You are not good for each other right now and then change into something else. That happens to people, yes, but not when you consistently see and listen to your partner. You know things about Ari which make life difficult for him. He knows things about you that turn you off to change. He can be flippant and you can be judgmental. You both are not without your shortcomings.
You two consistently want to see each other happy, you consistently want to be the cause of each other's happiness, and you consistently forgive each other and yourselves for mistakes along the way.
This goes hand in hand with respect. You are different people, with different backgrounds, who want different things sometimes, but you never diminish the other as being silly or wrong for those differences.
Except folding the laundry.
Ari does it wrong. That's not disrespect, thems just the facts.
Thank you for asking!
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[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
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almostempty · 10 days ago
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PSA THIS IS JUST ME SCREAMING AFTER EVERY PARAGRAPH BC I'M OBSESSED
That’s not even the issue here,” you counter, a little more defensively than you meant. “It’s just… what do you even wear on a date with someone like Javier?”
LIKE FOR REAL! i believe the correct answer is actually nothing, and you just invite him straight into your pants
“It’s not every day that my friend leaves with a man like that at the end of her shift, only to find out he’s some annoyingly hot coworker she didn’t even bother mentioning—”
Connie so fucking real for that take
She groans, dragging it out for dramatic effect. “No. You wear that thing out all the time.”
I really love her so much
“No idea, which makes the getting ready process even more difficult. I’m putting you down,” you warn her, setting down the receiver on your dresser.
the hot girls always live in the phone
You’ve been doing everything possible not to spiral into overthinking, trying to act normal about this date. Part of you still can’t believe it’s actually happening.
FR I WOULD LOSE MY SHIT HELLO
Yet, he keeps choosing you, showing up with this sincerity that’s completely messed with your head, confessing feelings and sticking around like he’s actually serious.
AND HOW DARE HE
He’s taken over your mind, lingering there like a sexy, infuriating ghost.
he can haunt me
With Javier, it would sting worse if he turned out to be the arrogant womanizer you’d pegged him as after all the shit that’s transpired between the two of you.
in fact, i might crawl into this fic and shoot him with a gun (kidding) if he doesn't get his shit together
You finish getting ready and head into the kitchenette, grabbing a shot glass. You pour yourself a quick splash of Fireball, hoping it’ll help you feel a little more mellow, maybe a little less wound-up. You toss it back, letting the burn calm the nerves that won’t stop buzzing as the minutes drag by.
she's so strong, i woulda taken a pull from the bottle accidentally drank half of it and ruined my own date i stg i'd be FREAKIN
The sight that greets you could knock the air right from your lungs.
TELL ME BB TELL ME
His typical black leather jacket stretches across his broad shoulders, a flushed blue shirt underneath, his neck on full display while the top of his chest teases you beneath the few undone buttons.
MMMM THAT SLUTTY OPEN SHIRT
His jeans fit him perfectly, hugging his narrow waist and leading down to a pair of well-worn leather boots. But what really catches your attention is the single peony he holds delicately in his hand.
BITCH NOT THE SINGLE PEONY FUCK OFF i got my peony tattoo bc of this fic actually, write that down
His gaze roams over you, like he doesn’t know where to look, definitely lingering on your legs then your cleavage before his warm, brown eyes meet yours. “You look good, nena.” He leaves you feeling like he’s undressing you with just that look.
if he did that to me i'd be fuckin' dead y'all LIKE HERE LIES WEDS DEAD BC THAT STUPID MAN JUST LOOKED AT HER
You bite back a smile and raise an eyebrow, opting to tease him. “Thanks, Javi. You look… exactly how you always do.”
fuck yes, be stronger than me, flip him shit
He’s doing the bare minimum, bringing you a fucking flower, and you’re already feeling all warm and mushy.
yeah it WOULD WORK ON ME
“Well now I have to know what you said.” “Maybe one day.”
UM YEAH, I'LL BE REMEMBERING THAT YEP SHE GONN TELL US
It seems like he has an actual plan for this date, which surprises you, but then again he’s been full of fucking surprises since the moment you met him.
a man with a PLAN? the bar may be in hell but that would DO IT FOR MEEEEEEEEE
So he’s not native to this city, which was kind of obvious with the slight twang some of his words seem to have. You wonder where he’s actually from.
me legit thinking wdym gorl we ain't new here, I've got his rap sheet
As you reach the sidewalk, Javier surprises you by sliding his hand into yours, smooth and confident. The gesture catches you off guard, and you can feel heat pooling at your cheeks. He’s annoyingly charming, and he knows it.
A FLOWER, A PLAN, CONFIDENCE. SHUT UPPPPPPP
His hand is so much bigger than yours, rough skin brushing against your softer palm in a way that feels—well, it feels like it fits.
the way you would make me think of that fucking hand gif set again AT A TIME LIKE THIS, HOW DARE YOU
“This okay?” he asks, glancing down with a glint of mischief in his eyes, catching you right in the middle of your little lustful trance.
no, no NO NO NO IT IS NOT OKAY BC I'M DEAD
He gives a soft scoff, looking amused. “That’s not really my style. I’d feel like a total fraud…” he pauses, studying your expression, “unless that’s what you wanted. I could do it if that’s what you’re into.”
LMAO is he me? like fuck that shit...unless, you're into it then uh I'll stfu bb
“Oh wow,” you say, chewing slowly with a hand hovering over your mouth.
shut uppppp now i gotta go get a jamaica and chorizo tacos and i'm already there too many days of the week
And damn, if you don’t notice every bit of him in that damn leather jacket, his dark hair slightly tousled and looking as if he were some walking sex deity. 
sex deity not an exaggeration at all
The world sees sex work as some kind of sordid choice, casting assumptions.
their loss
No one has ever gotten under your skin or tangled your senses like he does. With Javier, the tension builds until it’s all-consuming—whether it’s the way his hands map every inch of your skin or his mouth works you over. It’s maddening, how easily he pulls you apart and leaves you craving more.
me referring to reading this fic
And as you share an amused glance, you can’t help but think… yeah, maybe you do.
OPE THERE IT IS
Javier pauses, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Alright, alright. Probably rap. Used to be all about rock—my pops had me hooked young. But out here? My taste has gotten a little West Coast.”
still imagining javi listening to Too $hort and y'all never gonna take that away from me heheheheheheheh
“A Texan boy gone Cali,” you say, feigning surprise. “You love to see it.”
too good
“R&B. Lauryn Hill and Destiny’s Child have provided the soundtracks to some very pivotal moments in my life.”
yESS
“I gotta ask you something,” he says, his voice dipping just a bit. “And be honest. Why didn’t you like me?”
jesus fuck bb, reading that made my heart and my pussy stop beating like oh shit
“I wasn’t a fan of how you... got around. And the way you’d micromanage every move during shoots, like your way was always best. Or how you’d just use your dick to get whatever you wanted.”
yeah girl! being honest!
“And when we met, you were already trying to charm your way into my pants like I was one of your groupies,” you add, “Made it feel like you were always angling for something. I guess I just didn’t want to be another name on your list.”
REAL
He exhales, scratching at his jaw. “Fair enough,” he declares. “I didn’t always used to be like this. The whole showboating thing, it’s sort of… a front, I guess. When I started, I had to become a different version of myself. This cocky asshole who had his shit together because… fuck, I didn’t know what else to do. After the bullshit back home, I needed the distance. I needed to prove something.”
VULNERABLE JAVI GOT DAYUM
Sympathy blossoms, the kind that grows for someone who’s managed to build walls without even meaning to.
i just like that sentence
As you both turn back towards his truck, he reaches for your hand again, his fingers curling around yours, gentle and reassuring. You lean into him, resting your head on his arm as you walk. It feels natural, like you’re both finally seeing each other, piece by piece, without all the defenses.
SHUT UP WTF
There’s a warmth that reaches from his body to yours, one you can’t help but lean into as your hand finds his, fingers lacing loosely. Resting your head just near his chest, you feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, solid and steady.
it's so romantic i'm gonna emote
“Can’t let this night end without you knowin’ what my intentions are.” He pauses, then adds, “I want to keep seeing you.” His words melt into the night as he dips his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his face nuzzling softly into your hair.
EVERYONE SHUT UP ARE YOU KIDDING ME
“It’s not about you, or… or the work. I don’t care that you’re in porn.” you say gently. “It’s just the idea of dating someone who—well, you know.”
EXCUSE ME
ARE YOU PUTTING ANGST IN HERE ??? I'M GONNA THROW ROCKS
You’d be fucking stupid to walk away from all this without knowing what it feels like to kiss him, the man who’s wound you up so tight and left you as breathless as he has conflicted.
ACCURATE YES
His hold on your waist tightens as your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging at it, and he lets out a low, guttural grunt that gets your bones vibrating.
i'm gonna vibrate through the fucking ether oh my goddddd the whole kissing scene pls
In one swift movement, Javier maneuvers you, switching positions so that your back is pressed against the hood of his truck.
i'm shedding a tear of sexual, emotional, and romantic yearning
“Gonna make me cum in my pants kissin’ me like that,” he mumbles against your neck..
that'd be hot too idc
He drags his lips back up, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing you into another kiss—this one softer, more controlled, yet no less potent.
i actually can't, like i'm so unwell reading this i don't have anything fun to say about it, i just need him so, so, so, so, so, so, badly
His mouth curls into a smirk against your collarbone, and he lifts his head slightly, his hand sliding over the fabric of your top, shifting it down until your breasts are bared to the cool night air.
i'm passing away
His scent fills your lungs, his taste lingers on your tongue, feeling his perfect fucking body against you, hearing his subtle grunts, your vision glazed over with tears of pleasure from how he’s making you feel. 
returned as a ghost and now i'm just shrieking
His mouth descends again, and he looks up at you when he’s reached your breasts. “Not gonna fuck you, since I’m bein’ a gentleman and all,” he murmurs, the words hot against your skin, “but I am gonna get you off just by playin’ with your tits.”
he's so stupid, how do i create him??? i'm never recovering
“Oh fuck that feels so good.” You can’t help but be so vocal and he loves it, the sound of your voice doing just as much to get him off in the same way that his mouth doesn’t let up on your tits.
i have been staring at the wall trying to calm my own body down long enough to keep reading LIKE DAMN DOWN GIRL IT'S NOT HAPPENING LEND ME THE COGNITIVE FUNCTIONING TO KEEP READING HOLY FUCK
You’re soaked, and he can feel it, his cock pressing insistently against the heat of your clothed pussy as your hips grind down onto him, building a rhythm that he matches with his mouth.
no but like, that's it! right there! tits out, against the truck, dry humping like a feral teenager out past curfew i'm fuckin' done forrrrrr somebody scrape my body up with a shovel I've disintegrated
“Baby, just with the way you’re movin’ your hips, I can tell you ride cock like a fuckin’ champ.”
wouldn't you like to know! <- i'd say if i weren't drooling and trembling
He lets out a low groan as he adjusts the angle of your hips, pressing you firmly against his erection. The new angle grinds perfectly against your clit, drawing you deeper into the pleasure until it’s all-consuming, each nerve tuned only to him.
i have nothing useful to say, i'm just in awe, mout gaping like a fucking fish plsssss it's so VIVID
“That's right, baby, just like that,” he murmurs, his praise and gentle kisses softening the overstimulation into something even more intoxicating.
I'm so fucked up over him i need a lobotomy so i can have a chance at continuing on with my life after reading this and i know this chapter isn't even over PLS
“Don’t worry about me, nena.” His gravelly voice reassures you. “Seein’ you like this is enough for me.” 
maybe he's proving his point being a real gentleman, i'm choosing to imagine he's gonna cream his jeans and you can't stop me
“So, what now?” you ask, voice sharper than you meant, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “We just… go our separate ways? Pretend none of this ever happened?” He looks down, his jaw tense, and the silence that follows is thick, each second feeling like an eternity. His eyes meet yours and he sighs. “I guess so.”
KAT I AM GONNA THREATEN YOU WITH VIOLENCE DON'T YOU DAREEEEEEEEE
He places his hands on his hips, shifting his weight, exasperation written in every taut line of his body. “Do I need to remind you that I’m a grown-ass man who can make his own decisions? I’m starting to hate this job, and I want you.  I don’t care if I have to work a hundred side gigs. If that’s what it takes for you to be mine, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
OH MY GODD HOW IS THIS ALMOST WORSE BC NOW I'LL IMAGINE IT FOREVER AND NEVER HAVE IT OMG
“You sound like my agent,” he interrupts with a dry laugh, flexing his jaw. “I’ve thought about it. It’s all I can think about. I can’t even keep my cock hard enough to fuck the girls on set anymore, and like I told you before—I’m not taking pills for that shit.”
I NEED HIM I NEED HiM RGHT AWAY
“So...we’re doing this?” he asks, a crooked smile on his face that makes him look boyish and so damn pretty.
I have to go touch grass, eat dirt, walk into the ocean, lay on the street in the rain, get frostbite, a third degree burn, literally anything pls i can't continue on without having him
“Does that mean I can come inside?” And with the way his lips quirk up into a cocky smile, you know exactly what this motherfucker means.
HE CAN COME IN MEEEEEEEEEE (you know i had to)
“Nope, we’re taking things slow… and I’m not fucking you until you get tested.”
she is the strongest woman in the fictional universe or i am a loose moraled slut, but it's probably the first one
You smirk, pretending to ignore the way his fingers are trailing dangerously close to your panties.
did you write every line of this just for me? like hand crafted, organic, farm to table, JUST. FOR. ME.
Sure, you still haven’t officially slept with him, but that hasn’t stopped either of you from exploring each other. He’s kept his promise to make you feel amazing, finding delicious ways to learn your body without actually crossing that line.
SOBBING, OH MY GODDDD THE BUILD UP
It wasn’t until a few days ago that you finally returned the favor, slipping into the shower with him and blowing his mind in every sense of the word, until he was helplessly spilling down your throat. Your jaw’s still a little sore from how eagerly you’d gone down on him, the memory of his breathless groans seared in your mind. 
same
Tonight, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, officially. He’d planned this whole evening at a rooftop restaurant, it was a little too fancy, but he looked at you like he couldn’t believe his luck.
the two of them are EVERYTHING TO ME
Connie’s eyes light up, and your cheeks flush. “Consistent dick is the ultimate antidepressant. Trust me, I’d know,” she says with a wink.
I love Connie she is my supreme leader
“Javier, is that you?” Her voice is low, sultry, every word dripping with familiarity as she slides up beside him, her gaze unmistakably hungry. “Dios mío, mira qué guapo te has puesto, mi amor.”
close your eyes i'm about to commit woman on woman violence
A flush of fury burns through you, and you’re on the verge of standing up, ready to beat her ass for her audacity.
yeah, I TOO WOULD THROW HANDS IDC I'LL CATCH A CHARGE
“I’ll be better about shutting them down,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even if you do look hot when you’re jealous.”
UGH OKAYYYY BUT STILLL
She laughs, nodding at you. “Oh, you want to see her fight? Be here during a major sports event. Last year during March Madness, she gave this guy a black eye ‘cause he called her a cunt when she accidentally changed the channel, then ended up going toe-to-toe with his girlfriend.”
i love her
“Didn’t mean to dump it on you like that,” he says, leaning on the bar, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the counter, his gaze cast downward.
me thinking i'm sharing funny anecdotes, backtracking when i realize i misread the room
“She taught me most of what I know, and we shot a lot of projects together. People liked what they saw, and after a while, I started getting paired with older co-stars. That kinda became my thing. MILFs and cougars,” he says, his gaze tracing your features to gauge your response. 
i'd prefer that legacy to the barely legal scene, i said what i said
You can tell from the way his face falls into a scowl that he doesn’t like how you’ve phrased it. “What I have with you is different, cariño. Not something scripted for a camera.” 
title reference swoon!
Your heart stirs at the depth in his voice. He lets out a small breath, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek. “I know you’ve got your hang-ups, and I get it. I’ve been there. It’s… hard to feel like you’re enough when you’re constantly comparing yourself to people who don’t even matter. But I’m tellin’ you, baby, it shouldn’t be like that with us.”
stop ruining my life with him i CANNOT HANDLE IT
He shifts a little closer, his gaze earnest. “I’ll help you feel more confident the way someone once did for me. But the difference? I’m givin’ you everything. Not just sex, not just some half-hearted attempt. I’m here—all in.”
quietly sobbing and nodding mhmm anything for u bb
“Turn around, baby, let me see you.” You turn to face him, nerves quieted by the way he’s looking at you—as if he’s seeing you naked for the first time. He lets out a soft, almost reverent groan, then extends his hands, urging you closer. You step forward, your hands finding his shoulders as you finally straddle his lap, his warmth searing through you. 
EVERYTHING, THIS IS EVERYTHING TO MEEEEEEE
“Yes, Javi,” you breathe out, voice thick with need, “I need you so bad.”
me whipsering the same thing to my phone screen like it's a prayer
His grip on your hip tightens. “Stay still,” he commands, using that sexy bedroom voice of his that’s even more gravelly and deeper than his usual cadence.
SIR YES SIR
His stare holds yours, a silent promise that tonight, he’s going to take his time, making sure you feel every single second of it.
torture me pls
But just as you reach that edge, he pulls the toy away and turns it off, leaving you gasping, the sensation dissipating as quickly as it built. Your eyes snap open and you sit up slightly, desperate and hazy, locking onto him. “What the fuck?”
EDGE ME BB
He taps your knee, urging you to spread wider, his gaze fixed on you with unrestrained desire. And the way he looks at you—like you’re all he’s ever wanted—banishes every flicker of self-doubt, every whisper of insecurity.
i'm sooooooo unfortunately serious, how am i supposed to continue after reading this ?? with life ?? THAT IS CRUEL! SICK PUNISHMENT!
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he coos, stroking your cheek as he sets the vibrator to its highest setting, plunging it inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy crying around it only fuel his hunger as he watches your face.
pls can someone come over and read the rest to me????? my eyes keep rolling back, cross eyed, blurred by tears, i'm so gone
He grins, mocking your pout with one of his own, voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Don’t say that, baby. You’re breakin’ my heart.” He brushes one last kiss against your lips, pulling back just as you lean into him, already aching to feel him close again, his warmth a cruel tease.
not the 'you're breakin' my heart' nooooooo i can HEAR IT
He undresses fully, and your mouth literally waters as your gaze traces the sculpted lines of his stomach, following the trail of hair that leads down to his thick, throbbing cock.
MEEEEEEEEE I'm FROTHING AT THE MOUTH
You need to fuck this man.
i feel this sentence in the very core of my being
He groans, the heat in his eyes darkening as he adjusts his hips, hovering right there, just out of reach. “Go ahead, baby, take it. Put it in.”
no words left, just moaning as i read this like a SICKO
Reaching down, your fingers wrap around his length, both of you gasping as you feel the heat and hardness of him pulsing in your hand. You squeeze gently, stroking him slowly, and he hisses, rolling his hips into your grip. You swirl your thumb over the head, spreading the bead of precome across his skin, the silky-slick texture making you dizzy with anticipation. Drunk on him, on everything he evokes in you, you guide the head of his cock to your soaked, swollen entrance, rubbing it slowly against your aching slit.
somebody call me an ambulance (don't) how is every word so perfect
The sensation has you trembling, but when he finally pushes forward, easing himself into you, you let out a loud, breathless whine. The stretch of him is so perfect, so utterly fulfilling that your back arches, your toes curling as your head falls back into the sheets. 
10000/10 no notes rereading forever and ever and ever
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he thrusts forward, filling you to the hilt. “Nena,” he grunts, voice ragged, “I’m not gonna last—shit.” He sounds as wrecked as you feel, his hips pressing flush against yours as he sinks in deep, your inner walls gripping him as if you’ll never let him go.
I KNOW THAT'S RIGHT
“Fuck—puta madre, nenita—you feel so good—” His voice breaks, and he gives one, two, three hard thrusts, burying himself deep as his release finally takes over, his warm, pulsing release spilling into you as he groans loudly, hips grinding as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm.
YEAH
You’ve never seen him look this wrecked, his breath still uneven and his face flushed—all because of you. Fighting the urge to smirk, you can’t help but revel in the sight of him.
CAN YOU IMAGINE I'D BE A FUCKING MENACE LIKE Y'ALLLLL PUSSY TOO GOOD MY SEX DEITY CAN'T EVEN HANG GOD DAYUMMM
“Pussy’s too damn good, baby. Fuckin’ Christ,” he groans, a grin tugging at his lips, his words breathy and awed.
LMAOOOOOO EXACTLY!!!
Now you let yourself smirk, feeling the flush of satisfaction. He nuzzles his nose against yours, murmuring, “Gotta make up for that.”
i'm actually printing this chapter (the whole fic actually), framing it, hanging it above my bed, and calling it required reading for anyone who wants to smash idc I'll wait all night for u to read it bb
As he finishes devouring you between your thighs, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s thrusting into you again, harder and deeper this time, with a fierce intensity that rips a loud, shameless cry from you. Right, he’s got that pornstar stamina.
I'M FUCKING SCREAMING
But he is that good. Beyond that good. He’s better.
ugly, snotty, crying and repeating 'pornstar javi isn't real, pornstar javi isn't real'
“Got you singin’ like a fuckin’ bird, nenita,” he teases, his laugh tapering off into a low groan. “And to think you didn’t want this. Now look at you—all fucked out and creamin’ on my cock”
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
It feels like you’ve drifted to the heavens, like he’s drawn out every last ounce of strength from you.  You’re dazed, floating, but he’s still there, whispering to you, “Good girl, that’s it. I’ve got you,” his voice a warm balm as he slows his movements, matching the rhythm of your aftershocks, soothing you with each gentle thrust as he holds you close.
pls
“You’re not real,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled but laced with awe. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, a low, comforting sound that makes you smile even wider.
I KNOW RIGHT
“I’m very real, and very yours, nena,” Javi replies, his hand drifting lazily up and down your back in gentle strokes that make you melt even further. The warmth of his words seeps into you, and your heart flutters.
STFU STFU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOUNG MAN OR SAY IT TO MY FACE
“Catering to my every whim already? I just became your girlfriend,” you tease. “Yeah, and I’m trying to keep it that way for the foreseeable future,” he says, brushing a quick, sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before slipping away from you.
so stupid, i need a thousand of him, I've lost my single brain cell and this fic is the only thing that remains in my consciousness, and it's so fucking GOOD IT HURTS GOD DAYUMMMMMMMMM
I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD JUST FUCK ME UP LIKE THIS ON A THURSDAY WITH NO REGARD FOR MY WILL TO RECOVER ??
THE DATE
THE SEMI PUBLIC AGAINST THE TRUCK TITS OUT DRY HUMPING BONANZA JUST FOR ME
THE ONLY ACCEPTANCE AND COMMITMENT THERAPY I NEED IS JAVI AT MY DOOR TELLING ME HOW MUCH HE'S THOUGHT ABOUT ME AND HOW HE'S WILLING TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES FOR A SHOT ???
THE UNDER THE BAR TEASE BEFORE THAT JEALOUSY HIT LIKE A FUCKING BRICK !!
THE INSAAAAANE DREAMY TEASING, THE VIBE, THE MOOD, THE TENDERNESS AND ADORATION, THE VIVID REALNESS OF THE ENTIRE SCENEEEEE LIKE BITCH I GOTTA CHANGE MY SHEETS AND SHOWER NOW AND I'M NOT EVEN IN BED HELP
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West Side | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 5 of Unscripted Desire | ~15k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: A lot of firsts with Javi.
Tags: smut, slight angst, nipple play, dry humping, lots of making out, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, jealousy, edging, overstimulation, use of sex toys (vibrator), oral (f receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex (finally), javi is clipped (not mentioned), babe wake up pornstar!javi lore just dropped, no use of y/n, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.
A/N: i attempted to make this chapter a little longer, definitely filthier, and above all: satisfying. shoutout to my bestie hermosa @persephone-girl for reading over part of this and quelling all the second thoughts i had in the middle of writing it out 🖤 love you guys, enjoyyyy ✨
You purse your lips at your reflection, tilting your head as if a new angle will make everything click. The phone is wedged between your shoulder and ear, and Connie’s voice crackles over the line, keeping you company. 
“Since when do you care so much about getting dolled up?” she teases, picking up on the way you’re fussing.
You tug the hem of the dress down a bit, “That’s not even the issue here,” you counter, a little more defensively than you meant. “It’s just… what do you even wear on a date with someone like Javier?”
Connie lets out a sly laugh. “Well, if I knew more about him, maybe I’d be able to help you out here.”
You huff, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it, leaning closer to the mirror as you swipe at the mascara wand. “You’re still on that?”
“It’s not every day that my friend leaves with a man like that at the end of her shift, only to find out he’s some annoyingly hot coworker she didn’t even bother mentioning—”
“There was nothing to mention,” you cut in quickly.
“Nothing to mention?” she repeats, scandalized. “He ate you out in an elevator, you talked an orgasm out of him, and you let him slip the tip of his dick inside—”
“Okay!” You cut her off again, voice a bit higher than intended. “Shouldn’t you be out saving lives or something?”
“Currently on day two, hour nine, of my three-twelves.” Her sigh fills your ear. “I’m exhausted. Let me live through your smokin’ sex life so I don’t tear my hair out.”
“Steve not doing it for you anymore?” you tease, rubbing away a bit of lipstick that smudged onto your teeth.
“Oh, he is, but after three overnight shifts? Even the thought of sex is exhausting,” she admits, a laugh edging her words. 
You get it; distinctively thinking about the last spring break week where you worked non-stop, running from shoots all day to the bar all night on three hours of sleep.
That was definitely the week you aged five years in one go.
“Now, back to you,” she snaps you out of your memories. “What did you finally decide on?”
“The black dress.” You say it like it’s the only logical choice.
She groans, dragging it out for dramatic effect. “No. You wear that thing out all the time.”
“I bought it for a reason. To wear it.”
“Oh, come on. I think you should switch it up a little. Make it more fun.”
“Fun?” you echo, skeptical, glancing over at your closet.
“Fun,” she confirms, “like that mini skirt with the flowy fabric. Makes your ass look so good and shows just enough cheek to leave him hanging,” she says all playfully, “Just throw on a top that shows the girls off and you’ll be set. It’s flirty and hot… exactly like your little boy toy and way fresher than a black dress.”
You snort, feeling a little flutter at the mention of Javier being your boy toy. “A classic date-night outfit is classic for a reason, you know?”
“Mhmm, so classic I’m falling asleep. Go grab the skirt and thank me later,” she presses.
You grumble out a fine, deciding to humor her. Maybe you will like it better than the dress.
Rummaging through your closet is a little difficult with the corded phone in your hand but you manage, finally spotting the garment under the mountain of clothes that you’ve just thrown in here and pretended weren’t your problem.
“Where’s he taking you, anyways?”
“No idea, which makes the getting ready process even more difficult. I’m putting you down,” you warn her, setting down the receiver on your dresser.
You toss aside a few ‘not quite’ options before finding a top cute enough for this flirty and hot vision she’s painting. The deep color of it has your skin glowing, the cut of the neckline making your tits look enticing.
The snug skirt teases just enough at your thighs and you do a half turn, glancing back at the mirror to check your own ass out—and damn if she wasn’t on the money.
“Okay, I’m back.”
“And?”
You pause, smiling as you take in your reflection. “I look hot.”
There’s a sharp, delighted squeal on her end. “See? I told you! That’s what friends are for—giving you advice you don’t listen to until you’re basically forced to.”
Her laugh makes you grin, but then you hear a muffle as she talks to someone else in the background. She comes back, tone rushed but still playful. “Alright, I’m being called back onto the floor. But seriously, have fun. Don’t put out unless you want to, and please, please, don’t wait months to fill me in, okay?”
“I won’t,” you chuckle, her instructions making you feel like you’re back in high school. “Thanks, Con.”
“Go get him, you vixen,” she teases, and the line goes dead, leaving you with your thoughts.
You’ve been doing everything possible not to spiral into overthinking, trying to act normal about this date. Part of you still can’t believe it’s actually happening.
You’ve fought him, resisted him, silently judged others for falling for his charms—yet somehow still managed to give in.
If someone had told you months ago that you’d be in this position, you would’ve straight up laughed in their face.
The whole trajectory of it feels warped. You can’t help but wonder if this is all some elaborate game, a long con to get you in his bed.
But then, the doubts don’t quite hold up, not with how much effort he’s put into just getting your attention. If it were about sex, he wouldn’t need all this—he could walk outside, flash that lazy, dimpled grin, and probably have someone falling for him within seconds.
Hell, he could call one of his co-stars and make it that much easier on himself.
Yet, he keeps choosing you, showing up with this sincerity that’s completely messed with your head, confessing feelings and sticking around like he’s actually serious. He’s taken over your mind, lingering there like a sexy, infuriating ghost.
At least you’ve given yourself an ultimatum: if this goes south, you’ll walk away and he’ll leave you alone.
You still remember how low you felt after things with Frankie, and that was amicably ended. 
With Javier, it would sting worse if he turned out to be the arrogant womanizer you’d pegged him as after all the shit that’s transpired between the two of you.
You finish getting ready and head into the kitchenette, grabbing a shot glass. You pour yourself a quick splash of Fireball, hoping it’ll help you feel a little more mellow, maybe a little less wound-up. You toss it back, letting the burn calm the nerves that won’t stop buzzing as the minutes drag by.
Then, you hear the familiar creak of the stairs, the soft shuffle of footsteps, followed by a knock at the door. Your heart skips a beat.
With a deep breath, you slip on a light jacket and grab your purse before unlocking the door and swinging it open.
The sight that greets you could knock the air right from your lungs.
His typical black leather jacket stretches across his broad shoulders, a flushed blue shirt underneath, his neck on full display while the top of his chest teases you beneath the few undone buttons.
His jeans fit him perfectly, hugging his narrow waist and leading down to a pair of well-worn leather boots. But what really catches your attention is the single peony he holds delicately in his hand.
“Hey,” you greet, trying to keep it casual, as if your heart isn’t pounding just from seeing him stand there. He is so damn handsome, it almost feels unfair.
His gaze roams over you, like he doesn’t know where to look, definitely lingering on your legs then your cleavage before his warm, brown eyes meet yours. “You look good, nena.” He leaves you feeling like he’s undressing you with just that look.
You bite back a smile and raise an eyebrow, opting to tease him. “Thanks, Javi. You look… exactly how you always do.”
He chuckles, a lazy smile spreading across his face, and you catch a little dimple on his cheek. “Damn. And here I thought I put in more effort tonight.” He licks his lips, then holds out the flower. “This is for you. I might’ve mentioned our night out to my neighbor, and she clipped this from her garden. Thought it was less on the nose than a red rose.”
You take it from him, its soft petals brushing against your fingers, and bring it to your nose. The sweet, fresh scent makes you sigh a little.
He’s doing the bare minimum, bringing you a fucking flower, and you’re already feeling all warm and mushy. You’ll just blame the one shot of whisky for that. “Talking me up already?”
He chuckles, his eyes appreciating the way your makeup highlights each feature.
“Let’s just say I bum cigarettes off her in exchange for a little company. You just happened to come up.”
“Well now I have to know what you said.”
“Maybe one day.”
This moment already feels charged for no reason.
“I’m going to hold you to that” you warn him playfully. “Thank her for me. And tell her she’s got good taste in flowers.”
He gives you a nod, eyes softening. “I will. You ready?”
“Mhm,” you hum, stepping out to lock the door behind you.
As you turn, you realize how close he’s standing, and the scent of mint and cologne hits you in an instant, making your head spin. He smells fucking incredible.
“So,” you start, trying to ignore the fact that you can practically feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Where are we going?”
He falls into step beside you as you both head down the stairs. “To the best food truck in the city.”
“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, both amused and a little charmed by the casual choice.
He nods, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s by Lake Hollywood Park, which is convenient ‘cause we’ll end our night around there.”
It seems like he has an actual plan for this date, which surprises you, but then again he’s been full of fucking surprises since the moment you met him. “Sounds like fun. Better not be shit though,” you say, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder, twirling the flower between your fingers.
“I think I’ve lived in L.A. long enough now to know what’s good and what isn’t.”
So he’s not native to this city, which was kind of obvious with the slight twang some of his words seem to have. You wonder where he’s actually from.
As you reach the sidewalk, Javier surprises you by sliding his hand into yours, smooth and confident. The gesture catches you off guard, and you can feel heat pooling at your cheeks. He’s annoyingly charming, and he knows it.
His hand is so much bigger than yours, rough skin brushing against your softer palm in a way that feels—well, it feels like it fits.
Your mind doesn’t miss a beat, leaping straight to the memory of his fingers pressed inside you, knuckle deep, his tongue flicking at your clit as you unraveled for him.
You bite the inside of your lip, willing yourself to stay cool, but damn, those hands could do a lot of things.
How you even fit two of his fingers remains a mystery, but it’s one you’re more than willing to solve again.
“This okay?” he asks, glancing down with a glint of mischief in his eyes, catching you right in the middle of your little lustful trance.
“Perfectly fine,” you reply, squeezing his hand, that glint pulling you in deeper, and you let it.
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“Okay, I think I have a little more faith in your spot now that we’re here.” You settle across from Javier at the picnic table you managed to snag nearby, eyeing the food as he sets it out between you.
He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “You doubted me?”
“Just a little.” You pinch your thumb and finger together with a playful grin, scrunching your nose as you laugh. His lopsided smile makes an appearance, sending your heart into a flutter.
“Then I’ll let the food do the talking. Let that be my ‘I told you so.’”
“Oh, please, I don’t need to hear that twice in one day.”
As you stick your straw into your cup of hibiscus agua fresca, the sweet flavor hits you instantly, and you let out a delighted little hum without even thinking.
His gaze snaps to you, amusement lighting up his eyes. “Someone’s already beaten me to it?”
“Connie,” you confess, dragging your tray of tacos closer and inhaling the smell that makes your stomach practically growl. “She helped me pick this outfit, you know, since someone here was pretty vague on the details.” 
He chuckles, reaching for the salsa verde and giving his tacos a generous drizzle before handing the bottle over. “I told you we’d be outside. I thought that’d be enough.” 
You take it from him, fingers brushing together, and damn if your skin doesn’t actually tingle. “Honestly, I was expecting more of a steakhouse vibe.”
He gives a soft scoff, looking amused. “That’s not really my style. I’d feel like a total fraud…” he pauses, studying your expression, “unless that’s what you wanted. I could do it if that’s what you’re into.”
Your tongue darts over your lower lip as you take in his thoughtfulness. “Nah. This is...perfect, actually.”
A light sparks in his eyes at your word choice. “Perfect, huh?”
You playfully roll your eyes, “Uh huh, don’t get a big head over it.”
“So, I owe Connie for getting you in that skirt?” His voice is smooth, that teasing lilt unmistakable.
Heat climbs up your neck, pooling at your cheeks. “You like it?”
His eyes narrow slightly, that look dark and appreciative. “I think it’s sexy as hell, yeah. But in an effort to be more...gentlemanly—Te ves hermosa. Like always.”
Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him laying it on thick, but right now? You don’t mind it at all.
The attention feels genuine, his words dipping straight between your legs rather than floating on his usual bravado.
“Sweet talk me all you want,” you say, trying to rein yourself in, “but the real test of this date’s success? It all lies in this meal.”
He chuckles, and you’re grateful for the little shift, picking up a taco and clinking it with his, like a toast. The first bite is practically life-changing—the smoky, spicy flavors somehow better than you’d even anticipated.
“Oh wow,” you say, chewing slowly with a hand hovering over your mouth. “Not bad, Peña. This is actually delicious.”
His grin is smug, triumphant, and as he takes another bite, you’re momentarily distracted by the way his jaw flexes, muscles taut as he chews. And damn, if you don’t notice every bit of him in that damn leather jacket, his dark hair slightly tousled and looking as if he were some walking sex deity. 
You mentally curse yourself for already feeling way too into him. 
You chat lightly, going over the usual first-date questions. Somehow, even the simple stuff feels easy and natural with him—there’s something in the way he responds that keeps you drawn in, even if the questions themselves aren’t all that thrilling.
What’s your favorite color? When’s your birthday? Where are you from?
“Texas. And you?” he answers, swiping the napkin over his lips before balling it up, tossing it into his now empty tray.
So he’s a southern boy. That detail definitely adds to his charm. You tell him the name of your hometown, and then, after a beat, add, “Bit far from home, huh? Got family here?”
He shakes his head, reaching into his jacket for a pack of gum. He pulls out two pieces, offering you one.
Okay, another bare minimum act that’s got you all fucking blushy.
“Nah,” he says, chewing his own piece of gum. “It’s just me out here.”
“Your family must be thrilled about what you do…wait, do they know?” you ask, unwrapping the stick and glancing at him.
He sighs, scratching at his jaw. “My pops knows. My mom…” He pauses, a shadow of something crosses his face. “She passed when I was in high school.”
Your heart squeezes, a flicker of guilt making you wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts gently, waving it off casually. “It gets tiring hearing it. But yeah, my pops and the rest of them…they don’t exactly jump for joy when it comes to my job. Guess it’s a good thing I stopped giving a fuck about what they think.”
The reality of it sinks in as you watch him across the table, his eyes distant for a moment. You’d never really thought about how it all might affect him (or any of the other stars, honestly) outside of sets and studios.
The world sees sex work as some kind of sordid choice, casting assumptions.
Sure, it’s got its problematic aspects just like any other industry, but with the puritan culture that’s plagued society since the beginning of time, really, it’s seen as such a devious thing when in reality; it could be something so beautiful. A celebration of the human body, of the unity between two people.
Whether you’re a woman or a man—you bear the weight of every stereotype, every judgment, and, especially, the stigma that comes with it.
You hesitate, but your curiosity gets the best of you. “Are you close with them?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he absently smooths his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, eyes thoughtful. “Yes and no.”
Something in his tone tells you this isn’t a thread to pull on right now. So, you pivot the conversation, deciding to leave that part of him for another night.
You glance at your tray, grinning. “This might actually be the best meal I’ve had in a long time. And I’m not bullshitting you.”
His eyes light up, that charming, lazy smile sliding back into place. “I’ll refrain from saying I told you so.”
You laugh, throwing a crumpled napkin at him, which he catches without missing a beat.
He leans in, his voice low. “So, now that I’ve won your approval in the food department, I’ve gotta finish on a strong note so I don’t mess it all up, right?”
You feel your pulse quicken “Sure do. Got anything up your sleeve, or is this where the gentlemanly plan ends?”
“I’ve got plans.” His voice dips, his eyes tracing over you, wetting his lips and that thudding begins to thrum faintly between your thighs. “Thought we’d take a walk, keep getting to know each other…” The suggestive way in which he’s speaking definitely gives his words a double meaning, “Then head to my favorite lookout spot. Best view in the city, hands down.Whatever happens to feel right can unfold after that.”
“Sounds like you’re anticipating something unfolding.”
“Can you blame me? You’re walkin’ around lookin’ good enough to eat.”
You feel a thrill dancing up your spine at his bluntness, “Boundaries still stand, Javi. I’m not sleeping with you.”
He chuckles, a low, knowing sound that sends your stomach into a twist. “That’s fine. I think I’ve shown we can have plenty of fun without crossing that line.”
Every electrifying sexual encounter hits you all at once, and as much as you’d hate to admit it, he’s right. 
No one has ever gotten under your skin or tangled your senses like he does. With Javier, the tension builds until it’s all-consuming—whether it’s the way his hands map every inch of your skin or his mouth works you over. It’s maddening, how easily he pulls you apart and leaves you craving more.
“And If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the one begging for more.”
A hot flash sweeps through you. “You’re so fucking annoying.”
He grins, not missing a beat. “Admit it, you like it.”
And as you share an amused glance, you can’t help but think… yeah, maybe you do.
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The two of you walk side by side under the soft glow of the street lights lining the park. He flicks open his lighter, cigarette wedged between his lips, and you watch the quick flame as it lights up his face for a second before fading out.
You would usually mind the smoke, but somehow, with him, it’s just… fitting. A small indulgence that somehow suits his edges.
“Favorite music genre?” you ask, breaking the quiet.
“Would it be a cop-out to say a little bit of everything?”
“Oh absolutely.”
Javier pauses, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Alright, alright. Probably rap. Used to be all about rock—my pops had me hooked young. But out here? My taste has gotten a little West Coast.”
“A Texan boy gone Cali,” you say, feigning surprise. “You love to see it.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling as he glances at you, then flips the question back. “What about you?”
“R&B. Lauryn Hill and Destiny’s Child have provided the soundtracks to some very pivotal moments in my life.”
He nods, and for a while, the conversation flows smoothly from one topic to another—favorite childhood memories, the dumb stuff you did as teenagers, and random things you never imagined you’d share with him.
Javi raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I bet you were a teacher’s pet.”
“Teacher’s pet? No way. I was a bit of a know-it-all, but I had this rebellious streak,” you admit, “Got in trouble more than once for talking back. I just couldn’t help it.”
“Figures. You’ve got that fire.” 
Eventually, he flicks his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out before looking at you with a curious glint in his eye. “I gotta ask you something,” he says, his voice dipping just a bit. “And be honest. Why didn’t you like me?”
It’s not the first time he’s asked you this, but now that you’re seeing him in a different light, the answer comes easily, less defensive. “Okay,” you start, meeting his gaze. “I wasn’t a fan of how you... got around. And the way you’d micromanage every move during shoots, like your way was always best. Or how you’d just use your dick to get whatever you wanted.”
His silence stretches, and he takes out another piece of gum, nodding slowly as he listens. “And when we met, you were already trying to charm your way into my pants like I was one of your groupies,” you add, “Made it feel like you were always angling for something. I guess I just didn’t want to be another name on your list.”
He exhales, scratching at his jaw. “Fair enough,” he declares. “I didn’t always used to be like this. The whole showboating thing, it’s sort of… a front, I guess. When I started, I had to become a different version of myself. This cocky asshole who had his shit together because… fuck, I didn’t know what else to do. After the bullshit back home, I needed the distance. I needed to prove something.”
There’s something in his tone that pulls at you, but you don’t press. You’re surprised he’s even sharing this much.
“The women, the confidence—all of it. Figured that’s who I had to be to make it. And it worked up until you left… when I realized just how fucked things had gotten for me. After walkin’ out on Robbie, I’ve been trying to be more careful with the jobs I take but fuck, it’s hard.”
This man—this smooth, confident guy you thought you had all figured out—carries more than his rugged allure and that killer smile.
Sympathy blossoms, the kind that grows for someone who’s managed to build walls without even meaning to.
The details remain unsaid, and though curiosity simmers, you let the silence hang.
“You’ll figure it out, Javi. Life has a funny way of kicking you when you’re down, but somehow, things start falling into place eventually. Might sound like a bad fortune cookie, but it’s true.”
His gaze intense and warm under the park lights, brown eyes looking softer, shadows dancing across his face. The way he looks at you makes your legs shake.
You can’t help the small, vulnerable smile that plays at your lips as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, this moment is worth disregarding your own rules for.
His eyes flicker down to your mouth almost on instinct, and you’re caught in a breath, almost tempted to close the space and feel those lips on yours.
But instead, you let the moment breathe between you, keeping the tension electric, and he’s the one who finally breaks the silence. “Thanks nena. Here’s to hopin’ I don’t have to make a trip down to the unemployment office.” He jokes with a laugh that pulls one out of you too, “Let’s head back. Got one more thing to show you.”
As you both turn back towards his truck, he reaches for your hand again, his fingers curling around yours, gentle and reassuring. You lean into him, resting your head on his arm as you walk. It feels natural, like you’re both finally seeing each other, piece by piece, without all the defenses.
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A gentle breeze passes through as you lean against the hood of Javier’s truck, taking in the iconic view.
The twinkling city lights are sprawled out in front of you, while the Hollywood sign looms large and proud in the background. You’ve avoided tourist traps since you moved to LA. Dealing with the general public and pornstars on sets on a daily basis already felt like a big enough dose of Hollywood.
Tonight, though, there’s some kind of magic in being here and you can see why people find themselves drawn to it. Maybe it has something to do with the handsome man beside you.
“You bring all your dates here?” you ask, teasingly.
Javier rubs his lips together, a quiet smile flickering at the edges. “I don’t go on many dates, believe it or not.” He inches a little closer, draping his arm around your shoulder.
“Oh wow, Peña. So smooth.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the steady, intoxicating scent of him, the one that’s been teasing you all night, and how it engulfs you entirely.
There’s a warmth that reaches from his body to yours, one you can’t help but lean into as your hand finds his, fingers lacing loosely.
Resting your head just near his chest, you feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, solid and steady.
“Can’t let this night end without you knowin’ what my intentions are.” He pauses, then adds, “I want to keep seeing you.” His words melt into the night as he dips his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his face nuzzling softly into your hair.
Your breath catches for just a moment, and he feels it too, the faint hesitation creeping in.
Because the truth is, you’re not sure exactly what you want from this. A relationship? A fling? Could you handle being with someone whose job meant fucking other people—even if emotions are fully detatched?
You draw away slightly, positioning yourself to stand between his legs now as he leans against the truck, watching you, a question in his eyes.
“Tonight was wonderful. Better than a lot of first dates I’ve been on…” you trail off, and he quirks an eyebrow, a hint of concern already flashing in his eyes.
“But…?” he prompts, his voice soft but wary.
“Look, I have the utmost respect for what you do. I know what it takes, if anyone can understand what you actors go through, it’s me and all the other crews out there. I’ve seen shit hit the fan more times than I can count.” You twist your fingers, feeling the tension between wanting him and feeling hesitant. “But dating someone in the industry… I don’t know if I’m cut out for that.”
His shoulders drop a little, and he sighs. “Yeah… I figured.” He lets out a rough laugh, though it’s clear he’s disappointed. “Not the first time this has happened, or the last, probably. I just… I guess I was hopin’ this would be different.”
“It’s not about you, or… or the work. I don’t care that you’re in porn.” you say gently. “It’s just the idea of dating someone who—well, you know.”
He lets out a sigh, a heavy, defeated sound, and his eyes meet yours. “I know, nena, trust me. It’s a lot. I’m not holding it against you.” His hand runs over his face, frustration tightening his jaw. “It’s just…disappointing as fuck, but I get it.”
Before he can sink too deeply into the regret, of thinking he’s wasted a night taking you out, you reach out, catching his wrists and gently pulling his hands down. You’re close enough now to feel his breath brush across your cheek, and you hold his gaze, fierce and a little daring.
You’d be fucking stupid to walk away from all this without knowing what it feels like to kiss him, the man who’s wound you up so tight and left you as breathless as he has conflicted.
Slowly, you place his hands on your waist, leaning in until your lips barely touch his, your breath mingling together. You can practically feel his heart beating against his chest.
“Kiss me, Javi,” you murmur.
There’s no hesitation. His mouth meets yours, warm and certain, sending a spark through every nerve. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, and you lose yourself in him.
Javier’s mouth moves against yours like he’s savoring every second, his lips plush and gentle, taking his time. 
It’s all so new, so beautifully unhurried.
You meet his pace, moving your lips softly, feeling the slight press and release. When he parts from you slightly, you’re already missing the taste of his mouth, chasing after him.
Then he tilts his head and leans in again, deepening the kiss, his lips fitting against yours with more purpose. He presses closer, his body warm and solid, and you feel his tongue swipe slowly across your lower lip.
A shiver runs through you as you part your lips for him, and the moment his tongue dips into your mouth, a soft moan escapes you, helpless against the sensation.
The sound seems to set something off inside him. Suddenly, the kiss grows hot and urgent, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s afraid to let go, kneading the flesh there while his mouth moves against yours with a new hunger.
Your own hands find their way to his jaw, your fingers sliding up to frame his face, desperate to bring him closer, needing the taste of him to linger.
The feel of his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin adds an edge that only heightens every sensation he’s bestowing on you.
Your tongue meets his, every glide and stroke of it fueling an ache that spreads through you, heat pooling as your teeth clash slightly, both of you pouring months of pent-up desire and frustration into this kiss.
His hold on your waist tightens as your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging at it, and he lets out a low, guttural grunt that gets your bones vibrating.
In one swift movement, Javier maneuvers you, switching positions so that your back is pressed against the hood of his truck.
The cool metal beneath you contrasts with the heat of his body, and one of his hands slides from your waist, strong and possessive, until it grips the plushness of your thigh, hitching it over his hip and pulling your core against his.
The friction, the way his body aligns so perfectly with yours, ignites every nerve in your body.
You gasp against his mouth when his hard length presses against your clothed cunt, right where you need him most. The pressure sends a surge of arousal pooling low in your belly, and you arch into him, craving his intensity.
Your own hands roam, sliding to his jaw, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your palm, then his back, his shoulders, reveling in the feel of him. His mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, tracing a slow, wet line down to your neck, where he leaves a trail of heated kisses that have you gasping for air. 
The burn in your lungs is nothing compared to the ache building between your legs, an ache that only grows sharper every time he ruts his hips against yours.
“Gonna make me cum in my pants kissin’ me like that,” he mumbles against your neck..
He drags his lips back up, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing you into another kiss—this one softer, more controlled, yet no less potent.
You’re breathless when you part again, but it’s as though your body doesn’t care, desperate to keep feeling him against you.
When he reaches the curve of your breasts, he pauses, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses over the swells, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth just enough to make you shiver.
“Please, Javi,” you murmur, though you’re not even sure what you’re asking for. All you know is that you’re floating in this thick haze of desire, utterly lost in him, the feel of his lips, the intoxicating drag of his teeth against your skin.
His mouth curls into a smirk against your collarbone, and he lifts his head slightly, his hand sliding over the fabric of your top, shifting it down until your breasts are bared to the cool night air.
You gasp, eyes widening, instinctively sitting up straighter, a half-laugh, half-nervous glance flicking around your surroundings, instinctively pulling him closer to shield you.
His dark eyes meet your gaze, a flicker of mischief swirling with the lust there.
“Here? What if someone sees us?” you breathe, heart thudding in your chest as the chill hardens your nipples to sensitive peaks.
“No one’s gonna bother us, nena, te lo prometo.” Before you can respond, his mouth is on your neck, placing a soft, slow kiss there, licking a stripe and tasting your perfume.
His hands find your breasts, fingers curling around the supple skin, his thumbs brushing your nipples in languid circles that have you melting against him, your breath catching with each teasing stroke.
It’s impossible to focus on anything when Javier’s so in tune with every inch of your body, instinctively reading each gasp and shiver.
His hands are so skilled, cupping, squeezing, until one trails along your waist, playing with your pretty skirt with a firm, claiming touch.
It's the perfect push and pull that floods your senses with him, until you’re completely lost.
His scent fills your lungs, his taste lingers on your tongue, feeling his perfect fucking body against you, hearing his subtle grunts, your vision glazed over with tears of pleasure from how he’s making you feel. 
He watches your reactions, eyes dark and filled with a simmering hunger as you lean flat against the hood of the truck, giving him access.
His mouth descends again, and he looks up at you when he’s reached your breasts. “Not gonna fuck you, since I’m bein’ a gentleman and all,” he murmurs, the words hot against your skin, “but I am gonna get you off just by playin’ with your tits.”
The whimper you let out is animalistic, your legs wrapping around his waist, pressing him closer.
Javier’s mouth is unrelenting, lips wrapping around your nipple with a hot, wet pressure that sends electric jolts straight to your cunt.
His tongue swirls over the sensitive peak, teasing it, as his teeth scrape the aching bud ever so lightly, making you gasp. Then he shifts, sinking his mouth lower to nip, to suck harder, his fingers coming up to twist your other nipple roughly, pinching and tugging at it, making you cry and writhe beneath him.
“Oh fuck that feels so good.” You can’t help but be so vocal and he loves it, the sound of your voice doing just as much to get him off in the same way that his mouth doesn’t let up on your tits.
His other hand is no less demanding, gripping your thigh and ass with rough squeezes, the heat of his touch spreading through the thin barrier of your skirt. When he smacks your flesh, the jolt arches your back off the hood of the truck, pulling a breathy moan from your lips that has him smirking against your chest.
You’re soaked, and he can feel it, his cock pressing insistently against the heat of your clothed pussy as your hips grind down onto him, building a rhythm that he matches with his mouth.
His tongue circles, flicks, and finally he pulls at the hard peak with his teeth, sending another shockwave through your body that has you rolling your hips, more wildly against him.
He pulls back just enough, a string of saliva still connecting him to you as he murmurs, “Baby, just with the way you’re movin’ your hips, I can tell you ride cock like a fuckin’ champ.”
His praise lights you up, fueling your need. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull him back to your chest. 
He groans, his mouth latching onto your other breast with fervor, tongue flicking over your nipple rapidly before he pulls it into his mouth, the wet sounds of his lips smacking against your flesh, working your sensitive and pert nipples is filthy and obscene in the best way possible.
“So good, Javi… I’m so close,” you manage, the words spilling out unbidden.
He lets out a low groan as he adjusts the angle of your hips, pressing you firmly against his erection. The new angle grinds perfectly against your clit, drawing you deeper into the pleasure until it’s all-consuming, each nerve tuned only to him.
“Oh, god… Javi,” you gasp, feeling the familiar coil of pleasure tighten, your orgasm creeping closer with every pull, every flick, every grind.
Your body is on fire, trembling as you near the edge, your breaths coming in gasps as you hump him, completely lost to the intensity building.
Javier’s mouth alternates between your breasts, each suck and bite tugging moans out of you until you feel like you might lose it.
When his lips finally find yours again, his fingers replace his mouth on your chest, rough and insistent as they pinch and twist your sensitive nipples.
His tongue sweeps into your mouth, deepening the kiss while your body trembles, your jaw slack as you melt into him, moaning his name into his mouth as your orgasm breaks over you in a helpless wave of bliss.
Your body locks up, head canting back and hitting the material beneath you with a gentle thump as you wail his name out into the night. 
“That's right, baby, just like that,” he murmurs, his praise and gentle kisses softening the overstimulation into something even more intoxicating.
His mouth trails over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, every kiss pressing into your flushed skin while spots of pleasure blur your vision.
As you go limp against the cool hood, Javier’s touch softens on your chest, his fingers now gently kneading the sensitive flesh while he eases you back down, his lips trailing tender kisses over each swell before pulling your top back into place.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his deep inhale followed by warm, nipping kisses, his mustache scratching your skin just enough to bring out a fresh shiver from you.
“Javi,” you whimper, barely catching your breath, utterly wrecked and starstruck, amazed that he brought you so much pleasure by just teasing your breasts and rutting against you.
“Yeah?” His voice is a husky rasp, a hint of satisfaction at his lips.
You giggle, breathless, “I… don’t even know…” You laugh again, and he joins in, that low laugh rumbling in his chest as he cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“You enjoy that?” He tilts his head to the side, smugly grinning down at you.
“What do you think?” you tease back, still panting, eyes half-lidded.
You can’t help but admire how sexy he looks with his swollen lips and mussed hair. 
“Wait you didn't finish—” You murmur, beginning to reach down to toy with his belt, but he catches your hand gently.
“Don’t worry about me, nena.” His gravelly voice reassures you. “Seein’ you like this is enough for me.” 
You frown, feeling like you should do something for him, but before you can argue, he’s leaning down to kiss you again, over and over, until you’re both sinking into another slow, heated makeout session under the open sky, everything else fading away.
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You’re standing in front of your door, the glow of your porch light casting soft shadows over the two of you. “Thanks for tonight; I had a great time,” you say, though your legs still feel shaky from what happened earlier. 
Javier’s eyes linger on you, “Thank you for letting me take you out,” he says, his tone soft. “Even if… things aren’t ending the way I’d hoped.”
A frown flickers on your face, but you keep your tone light, forcing a gentle laugh.“We can still be friends, you know? That’s one hell of an improvement from where we started.”
But your attempt to ease the tension doesn’t reach him; his expression remains fixed, serious.
“I don’t think I can just be friends with you.”
Then he goes and says something stupid like that. 
“So, what now?” you ask, voice sharper than you meant, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “We just… go our separate ways? Pretend none of this ever happened?”
He looks down, his jaw tense, and the silence that follows is thick, each second feeling like an eternity. His eyes meet yours and he sighs.
“I guess so.”
You release a bitter huff, shaking your head as you turn away, rummaging in your purse for your keys.
Fine. Fine. If that’s the way he wants it, you’ll let it be.
He calls your name, his voice slipping through your defenses like a last-ditch plea, making your shoulders tense. You ignore him, wrestling down the tide of frustration and vulnerability clawing its way back up.
You’d told yourself you didn’t want to get involved with him from the start, and now it feels like you should have stuck to your guns. Would have been easier to just tell him to kiss your ass that day he came into the bar, seducing you in your apartment, then asking you out on a date that ultimately meant nothing.
You find your keys and jam them into the lock, refusing to look back.
The second time he says your name, it’s firmer, and you whirl around to face him.
“Javier, listen—before tonight, I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d ever be into you. But I gave you a shot, and turns out, you’re not that bad. You’re actually pretty fucking sweet,” you confess, half-laughing, but it’s tinged with the bitterness that you feel. “And maybe if things were different, I could see us together. But things aren’t different. They’re the same as they always have been, and I won’t make you choose between me and your job.”
“I could quit—”
You let out a laugh, loud and unfiltered. “And do what? You’re damn good at what you do, Javi. I’ve seen it firsthand, and yeah, most of the time it’s some pretty raunchy shit, but there’s something almost… artistic in it, and I’d feel selfish as hell if I was the reason you gave that up.”
He places his hands on his hips, shifting his weight, exasperation written in every taut line of his body. “Do I need to remind you that I’m a grown-ass man who can make his own decisions? I’m starting to hate this job, and I want you.  I don’t care if I have to work a hundred side gigs. If that’s what it takes for you to be mine, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
The weight of his confession makes your grip on the doorknob tighten, his words sinking deeper than you want them to.
“Javi, please, think this through—”
“You sound like my agent,” he interrupts with a dry laugh, flexing his jaw. “I’ve thought about it. It’s all I can think about. I can’t even keep my cock hard enough to fuck the girls on set anymore, and like I told you before—I’m not taking pills for that shit.”
He steps closer, and you feel a pang in your chest as his hand brushes yours, his gaze desperate, pleading with you to see him the way he sees you.
But it’s messy and it’s hard, and even if it’s everything you didn’t know you wanted, you’re terrified it might be everything you don’t know how to hold onto.
His hands slide up, fingers splaying gently over your cheeks, holding you as if he’s anchoring himself. “Please stop fighting me on this,” he murmurs insistently. “I know what I want, and it’s you.”
The intensity in his eyes roots you in place, brown and warm and so damn certain it’s almost overwhelming. You’re taken aback by the softness in his touch, by how steady his hands feel against your face.
He’s usually much braver in action than in words, and yet here he is, unwavering.
“And you’re sure?” you whisper, not sure you can even trust yourself to hold up your guard.
“Si, nena.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt, just a rock-solid conviction that somehow soothes your racing heart. 
“You’re not gonna regret this down the line? Not even a little?”
“Absolutely not.” His answer is quick and firm, like he’s spent every minute leading up to this one, getting ready to say it.
Oh, fuck. With him looking at you like that, you know you don’t really have any other choice but to give Javier Peña a shot at being your boyfriend.
“Okay… okay, Javi, fine. We’ll see where this goes, but if you start having even one doubt—”
He doesn’t let you finish, cutting you off with his mouth on yours, pulling you close in a kiss that’s somehow even more intense than you were expecting.
It’s deep and consuming, worlds away from anything you’ve ever felt, like he’s pouring everything he has into it, and you can’t help but lose yourself in him like you have been since the moment things shifted in your dynamic.
When you finally come up for air, foreheads resting against each other, you’re both a little breathless, eyes shining with adoration.
“So...we’re doing this?” he asks, a crooked smile on his face that makes him look boyish and so damn pretty.
“I guess we are.”
“Does that mean I can come inside?” And with the way his lips quirk up into a cocky smile, you know exactly what this motherfucker means.
“Nope, we’re taking things slow… and I’m not fucking you until you get tested.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, “Fair enough. I can work with that.”
You kiss again, his mouth soft and so damn inviting that it takes all your willpower to pull yourself back before you’re tempted to give in right here, in the doorway. “Alright, Javi,” you murmur, feeling his breath linger against your lips as he bites playfully at your lower lip before letting you go. “Goodnight.”
He’s grinning, and it’s that smile that has a way of melting everything inside you. “Goodnight, nena. I’ll call you, set up our second date. Soon.”
The giddiness hits you hard—like back when Frankie was all about pursuing you, only it’s different this time and you don’t know why.
‘“I’ll be waiting.”
He quirks a brow. “I won’t make you wait too long.”
One last, lingering kiss and he’s gone, leaving you at the door, flushed, breathless, and completely jumbled in the best way possible.
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“It feels weird being on this side of the bar,” you say, settling onto a barstool across from Connie. Javier slides into the stool next to you, immediately pulling you closer, his hand warm and possessive on your thigh.
“If you’re here to flaunt your relationship, you should start charging for it—I know I’d pay to see it,” Connie teases with a wink, already preparing your usual drink and turning to Javier. “And what about you?”
“Whiskey. Neat,” he answers, then leans into you, his voice a murmur by your ear, his hand slipping higher up your thigh, sneaking under the hem of your dress. “She does have a point, though.”
You smirk, pretending to ignore the way his fingers are trailing dangerously close to your panties. “Not sure I’d be any good on camera. Not like you, anyway.”
He chuckles and you can feel the heat between you two, that ever-present hum of lust you’ve been riding since the night he first kissed you.
It’s been blissful a month of dating Javier, and being with him is like no relationship you’ve had before.
You’ve found so much joy in the simplest moments with him—like when he fixes the little issues around your apartment that your landlord could care less about, or, the lively debates you have in the grocery store aisles, passionately debating which brand of coffee is better. 
Sure, you still haven’t officially slept with him, but that hasn’t stopped either of you from exploring each other. He’s kept his promise to make you feel amazing, finding delicious ways to learn your body without actually crossing that line.
It has only made everything feel deeper, sweeter. The way you make out like teenagers, unraveling each other in all the ways that matter, has been more than enough.
It wasn’t until a few days ago that you finally returned the favor, slipping into the shower with him and blowing his mind in every sense of the word, until he was helplessly spilling down your throat. Your jaw’s still a little sore from how eagerly you’d gone down on him, the memory of his breathless groans seared in your mind. 
Tonight, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, officially. He’d planned this whole evening at a rooftop restaurant, it was a little too fancy, but he looked at you like he couldn’t believe his luck.
The restaurant itself was overpriced and borderline ridiculous, but you two had made a game of it, teasing and laughing over the small portions and the pretentious plating. 
He even surprised you with a beautiful pair of earrings that you immediately put on, and he looked so damn proud when you showed them off.
Now you’re here at Lucky’s, both of you a bit overdressed, not ready to call it a night yet.
You can feel Javier’s gaze on you, intense and unwavering. “Baby, you’d be a fucking sight,” he says, teeth grazing your earlobe before he bites down gently, his warm breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver through you. You can’t help but giggle, feeling breathless and flushed as he plants a quick kiss to your cheek.
“Why are you two all dressed up?” Connie asks, setting your drinks down with a raised brow.
“Went out for dinner at the most overpriced spot I’ve ever set foot in. Easily spent my entire Friday night’s tips, and I’m still hungry.”
“Not only does that sound like a waste of time, but it’s definitely not your style.”
Javier leans back, one arm draped over your barstool. “To clarify: she didn’t spend a damn dime,” he interjects, “I had to take her somewhere special to ask her to be my girl,” he says, voice dripping with smooth confidence as he raises his glass for a sip.
Connie’s eyes light up, and your cheeks flush. “Consistent dick is the ultimate antidepressant. Trust me, I’d know,” she says with a wink.
You laugh at her bluntness, and fall into an easy rhythm of conversation, her giving updates on things with Steve, then gushing over the earrings Javier had gifted you earlier.
Just as you’re leaning in to admire them together, you notice a figure approaching. A woman, older and stunningly beautiful, glides up to the bar—her gaze fixed squarely on Javier.
“Javier, is that you?” Her voice is low, sultry, every word dripping with familiarity as she slides up beside him, her gaze unmistakably hungry. “Dios mío, mira qué guapo te has puesto, mi amor.”
Your head snaps up, conversation with Connie dissolving as Javier stands, greeting her with a hug that makes you do a double take.
You share a look with Connie, her expression mirroring the curious frown you feel. She raises her brows, silently mouthing, Who is that?
I don’t know, you mouth back, jealousy twisting in your stomach as you glance back at them.
They part, but her hands linger a moment too long on his chest, her manicured fingers trailing down. Javier very politely but firmly moves them away, a small frown creeping onto her face.
“Judy, long time no see.” His tone is courteous but distant. “This is my girlfriend,” he says, his voice warm as he makes the introduction, stepping back to your side, positioning you squarely in her line of sight.
You’re about to revel in the term girlfriend rolling so easily off his tongue, but her eyes lock onto you with a chill that runs down your spine. Standing your ground, you straighten, meeting her gaze head-on.
She’s stunning, her hair tastefully graying in elegant streaks against her rich brunette, her makeup precise and expensive. The smile lines around her mouth only enhance her aging beauty and if it weren’t for the absolute diabolical vibes you’re getting from her, you would have complimented how good she looks.
The tailored outfit, chunky gold bracelets, diamond-studded earrings and matching necklace leave no question—she has money.
What she’s doing at a dive bar like Lucky’s is beyond you, but maybe LA has its fill of pretentious types everywhere.
“Encantada,” she purrs, a fake smile flashing across her face before her focus shifts back to Javier. “¿Tienes novia? No lo puedo creer, Javiercito. Nunca me lo imaginé de ti.¿Sigues actuando?”
Her words drip with disbelief, her eyes giving you a nasty once over, and you catch enough Spanish to know she’s making a point to speak only to him. It’s like you’re just a side note, something to size up and dismiss.
Javier shifts, catching the tension in your posture, but she’s unrelenting. He responds curtly, “No, not with others. More solo work now.”
She scoffs, a haughty tsk of disapproval as she tilts her head.“No me digas que tu noviecita no te deja.” A mocking pout twists her lips. “Mija, if you’re going to date a pornstar, you’re going to have to deal with the baggage that comes with it. You don’t just get to benefit from him, from what I taught him.”
A flush of fury burns through you, and you’re on the verge of standing up, ready to beat her ass for her audacity. But Javier senses it and steps in, fingers pressing gently but firmly against your thigh, silently calming you down before you do something that’ll make him have to bail you out.
“It was my choice. Gig isn’t fun anymore,” he says firmly, a hint of irritation finally creeping into his tone. “We’re actually in the middle of a date, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving us to it…”
She glances between the two of you, clearly displeased at being dismissed but not quite willing to push her luck. Her smile turns syrupy, and you roll your eyes, signaling Connie for another drink. She’s failing miserably at pretending like she’s not listening in. 
“Of course,” she says in a sugary tone, eyes lingering on him.“Provecho. Si cambias tu mente, sabes donde encontrarme, Javi. We used to have so much fun together.” Her fingers trace down his arm a little too slowly, and she practically purrs, “Enjoy your date, sweetheart,” as she struts off, hips swinging with exaggerated flair.
But his eyes don’t follow, they turn to you.
Once she’s out of earshot, you raise a brow, waiting for some explanation. “So… who was that?” you ask as he sits back beside you, tossing back the last of his drink.
“An old colleague,” he says flatly.
You feel another surge of jealousy, and the second your drink arrives, you’re downing it in one go.
“Woah, nena, take it easy—”
“Is that normal for you?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation bubbling up. “Having fans… ‘colleagues’ just approach you out of nowhere, all of them ready to fuck?” You know your tone’s more annoyed than you intended, but the image of her hands all over him pisses you off.
He studies you, cautious, as if measuring his words. “Honestly? Yes. I’m very popular, baby,” he says with a crooked smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “I thought you knew that.”
You let out a sigh, guilt creeping in for directing your irritation at him. “I know… I do. There’s just a difference between knowing and actually experiencing it.” You try to keep the bite out of your tone. “It’s not like she was being subtle either. Looked like she was two seconds away from spreading herself out for you right here.”
There’s definitely an adjustment that still needs to be made in terms of dating a pornstar.
“I’ll be better about shutting them down,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even if you do look hot when you’re jealous.”
You try to suppress a smile, rolling your eyes as he leans closer, brushing his lips along your bare shoulder, then trailing up to your neck, melting your frustration just a bit. He’s too good at this.
“I wasn’t jealous,” you lie, glancing sideways at him. “Also didn’t peg you as an ‘older women’ guy. I’ve only ever seen you with the younger girls.” Saying it even makes you cringe.
As if on cue, Connie, ever the observant bartender, swoops in with replacement drinks, eyebrows raised knowingly. “Everything good over here? I don’t need to call an ambulance or anything, right?”
You snort out a laugh, shaking your head. “No, Con, we’re fine.”
“Even though I wouldn’t mind seeing her kick some ass.” Javier teases.
She laughs, nodding at you. “Oh, you want to see her fight? Be here during a major sports event. Last year during March Madness, she gave this guy a black eye ‘cause he called her a cunt when she accidentally changed the channel, then ended up going toe-to-toe with his girlfriend.”
Javier raises his brows at you. “Seriously?”
You shrug, unfazed. “They asked for it.”
As Connie gets pulled away by some patrons at the other end of the bar, Javier turns to you, his expression shadowed and a bit more serious than before.
“When I first started, my confidence was shot. I’m talkin’ nonexistent,” he admits, his voice low.
You arch a brow, struggling to picture a less-than-assured Javier Peña. “Really? I’m having a hard time imagining that.”
“Yeah, well…” He lets out a rough sigh, “When your fiancée gets knocked up and leaves you at the altar for the guy she’s been cheating on you with, that tends to happen.”
You choke on your drink, and your hand flies to your chest, eyes wide. He glances at you, his concern slipping past his own discomfort for a second. You wave him off as you try to get it together, the words still rattling around in your mind.
“Sorry—what?” you finally manage, hardly believing what you just heard.
“Didn’t mean to dump it on you like that,” he says, leaning on the bar, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the counter, his gaze cast downward.
“Hold up. You were engaged?” You can’t help but lean in, your curiosity clawing to the surface. “And she left you?” You’re struggling to piece it all together, mind spinning through images of the man sitting next to you, younger and heartbroken.
“Yeah,” his jaw twitches. “Her name was Lorraine. We were high school sweethearts—whole ‘marry your first love’ thing.” There’s a hard edge in his voice now, his fingers gripping the glass a bit tighter. “Thought I’d have the life, fill a house with kids, do the whole all-American family bullshit.” His words are bitter, the resentment so clear you almost feel it yourself. 
He takes a breath, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “Wedding day comes around and she’s gone. Left some half-assed note saying she ‘couldn’t do it,’ and her sister finally broke down and told me what was really going on. She’d been screwing her boss. He got her pregnant.”
There’s a crash behind the bar as a glass shatters. You glance over to see Connie, her face red, scrambling to clean it up with an embarrassed apology. You can’t blame her for listening in—you’re feeling a similar gut punch. 
You knew there was something that happened that made him jump the gun and move to California, now, you know what it is. An ain’t shit ex.
“Javi, that’s fucked. I can’t even begin to imagine how much that must have hurt.”
He gives a small nod, lifting his glass and taking a slow sip.
From where you’re sitting, you can see his profile in the low light—his strong nose, the gentle curve of his cheekbones, those lips that naturally form a pout when he’s deep in thought.
"I tried to keep it together, but that town became… suffocating. The looks I got…” Javier’s voice trails off as he shakes his head. “So I packed my shit, said goodbye to my pops, and just started driving. Stopped in all sorts of places, did some sightseeing, trying to figure things out.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips. “Ended up here, and Steve was the first friend I made. That asshole’s the one who got me into porn.”
Your brows shoot up, surprised yet again by his story’s unexpected turns. “Steve? Oh god, don’t tell me he used to do it too.”
Javier smirks, amusement dancing in his eyes. “He did a few flicks. Nothing groundbreaking like me.” He says all cheekily, and you can’t help but nudge him. “So, yeah, I started out for a few bucks. Wasn’t so hot in the beginning—and then I met Judy.”
At the mention of her, your face twists involuntarily, and he notices but ignores your reaction. 
“She taught me most of what I know, and we shot a lot of projects together. People liked what they saw, and after a while, I started getting paired with older co-stars. That kinda became my thing. MILFs and cougars,” he says, his gaze tracing your features to gauge your response. 
You’re still reeling from everything he’s told you so far, marveling at the many lives this man has lived before finding his way to you. “That explains a lot, actually,” you say, your thoughts slipping out with your words.
It now makes sense why he’s so damn good at foreplay. Skills like his? They’re honed under women who know exactly what the fuck they’re talking about, who aren’t shy to take what they need.
Suddenly, your own insecurities begin to simmer and you wonder if you’ll ever amount to the women before you.
He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yeah? Like what?”
You glance up, unflinching. “Like the fact that you can fuck.” Your bluntness pulls a laugh out of both of you—his full of mischief, yours tinged with nerves.
“Not a problem, is it?” he asks, that signature smirk softened, yet curious.
It’s a loaded question, so you take a sip, buying a little time before answering. “What, that you can fuck?”
He laughs again, more genuine this time, a sound that melts some of the tension inside you.
“No, nena,” he replies, still grinning. “Everything else.”
The laughter fades, and for a moment, you sit in the quiet, watching tiny droplets slide down the condensation on your glass.
You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for honesty. “It’s not a problem, Javi. But… if I’m being real with you, I don’t feel up to par with what you’re used to.”
You can tell from the way his face falls into a scowl that he doesn’t like how you’ve phrased it. “What I have with you is different, cariño. Not something scripted for a camera.” 
“I know that, but still. You’re used to professionals—people who know exactly what to do, how to look, how to please. Me?” You let out a shaky laugh, grimacing at your self deprecation, and your gaze falls to the drink in your hand. “You’re lucky if I even get on top.”
As the last word falls, your cheeks flush with embarrassment, feeling raw and exposed at a fucking dive bar.
Before you can turn further away, Javier leans in close, gently catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His expression is nothing but tender, his dark eyes soft.
“Hey, stop that,” he murmurs, his voice so gentle it’s almost a whisper. “You’re more than enough. Trust me.” His fingers stroke softly along your jaw, lingering. “I wasn’t looking for a waxed-up, camera-ready professional. I wanted something real and I found you.”
Your heart stirs at the depth in his voice. He lets out a small breath, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek. “I know you’ve got your hang-ups, and I get it. I’ve been there. It’s… hard to feel like you’re enough when you’re constantly comparing yourself to people who don’t even matter. But I’m tellin’ you, baby, it shouldn’t be like that with us.”
He shifts a little closer, his gaze earnest. “I’ll help you feel more confident the way someone once did for me. But the difference? I’m givin’ you everything. Not just sex, not just some half-hearted attempt. I’m here—all in.”
You swallow the mix of emotions he’s just poured into you—gratitude, desire, and a newfound trust that fills the spaces where your insecurities had settled.
Your eyes search his, words catching in your throat as you try to express everything you’re feeling. But instead of speaking, you reach for the hand at your face, your stare steady as you quietly murmur, “Let’s go upstairs.”
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You stumble through the door, bodies pressed close as you and Javier crash into the walls of your apartment, lips never parting for more than a heartbeat.
Your hands roam each other’s bodies, his fingers tracing down your spine, your own tugging eagerly at his shirt, popping buttons until it falls open, greedily feeling up on his warm and toned chest.
His belt follows, clinking to the floor, and as you kick off your heels, you barely register the sound of them hitting the ground—lost in the heavy rhythm of your pulse, the taste of his mouth, the roughness of his scruff.
He sinks down onto the edge of your bed, and you move to straddle him, but he catches you just in time, leaning back a bit with a smirk. “Take your dress off…” he orders, his voice gravelly as his eyes travel hungrily over you, biting his lower lip.
Your heart races as you take a few steps back, antsy fingers reaching for the zipper at your side.
“Slowly,” he adds, and you slow down, teasing him as you draw the zipper down until your dress is loose against your skin.
Holding it to your chest with one hand, you turn around, letting it slip and fall in a gentle whisper to the floor, leaving you standing in just your underwear.
His satisfied hum makes you shiver, and you feel his gaze burn down your back, over the curve of your hips, your thighs.
Looking over your shoulder with a flirty smile, you catch his eye, and he grins in return.
“Turn around, baby, let me see you.”
You turn to face him, nerves quieted by the way he’s looking at you—as if he’s seeing you naked for the first time.
He lets out a soft, almost reverent groan, then extends his hands, urging you closer. You step forward, your hands finding his shoulders as you finally straddle his lap, his warmth searing through you. 
His mouth captures yours, rough hands sliding up to cup your breasts, teasing your nipples until you’re trembling, gasping against his lips as you remember what happened the last time he toyed with you like this.
“Javi…” you whisper his name, your voice barely a breath as you pull away just enough to speak, eyes meeting his. “I want you. All of you.” You lean in to kiss him again, fervent, moving to trail your lips along his jaw, nipping lightly.
“I want you to fuck me.” You say it firmly, leaving no room for doubt, wanting him to understand exactly what you need.
He groans deeply, his hands dropping to grip your ass and pull you closer. “Are you sure?” his nose brushes along your neck, his breath hot against your skin as you continue kissing along his jaw.
“Yes, Javi,” you breathe out, voice thick with need, “I need you so bad.”
With practiced ease, Javier shifts you onto your back, stretching out beneath him as he hovers close, his touch claiming every inch of exposed skin. His hands trail over you, hot and lingering, and you feel like you’re melting beneath him, completely under his control.
When he finally pulls away to slip out of his remaining clothes, you see his gaze wander, fixated on something by your bedside table.
Following his line of sight, you realize he’s locked onto the purple vibrator you’d left out after using it the other night when he wasn’t around, leaving you to fend for yourself.
A sly smile tugs at his lips as he reaches over, picking it up and turning it over in his hand. “This little thing gets you off?” he teases, holding it up as though he’s sizing up the competition.
You roll your eyes, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer, but he resists, firmly planted just out of reach.“When I’m in a pinch, yes. Haven’t exactly needed it much lately, thanks to you.”
A thoughtful hum escapes him as he glances between you and the toy, as if weighing his options. Then, moving back over you, he kneels between your thighs, one hand gripping your hip possessively, teasing the band of your panties, while the other holds the vibrator with a wicked gleam. “I think we could put this to good use tonight.”
The spark of excitement floods through you, making your thighs tense instinctively, hips lifting slightly in response. Javier notices, his smirk widening as he lets the band of your panties snap back against your skin, making you gasp.
His eyes darken as he watches you writhe, clearly savoring your every little movement.
“Oh, yeah?” you manage to ask, your voice breathy with anticipation. “How?”
Instead of answering, he switches the toy on, and the low, steady hum fills the room. His eyes never leave you as he drags it lightly over your pelvis, nowhere close to where you ache for him, but enough to make your breath hitch, a soft moan slipping out as you arch into his touch.
His grip on your hip tightens. “Stay still,” he commands, using that sexy bedroom voice of his that’s even more gravelly and deeper than his usual cadence.
Obediently, you settle back, watching him with bated breath. He keeps the toy hovering just above your soaked panties, tantalizingly close to where you need him most.
When he finally presses it down on your clothed pussy, just enough to tease, you let out a low, pleading whimper, your hands gripping the sheets as he works you over in slow, cruel strokes.
His stare holds yours, a silent promise that tonight, he’s going to take his time, making sure you feel every single second of it.
Your breaths come out heavy and uneven, your whole body tensing as you fight the urge to grind up against it, trying to maintain some composure while he has you pinned down beneath that slow, teasing rhythm.
Javier moves the toy in tight, deliberate circles, dragging it excruciatingly slow over your needy clit, the first setting absolute torture.
He’s in no hurry, watching with intense focus as you tremble, his eyes tracing every twitch, every bead of arousal that weeps from your cunt, dampening the thin fabric even more.
He keeps that maddening pace, and as the vibrations ripple through you, you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, an orgasm coiling dangerously tight, ready to snap.
Your nails dig into the duvet, a strangled moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, fuck, Javi—I’m… I’m gonna come—”
But just as you reach that edge, he pulls the toy away and turns it off, leaving you gasping, the sensation dissipating as quickly as it built. Your eyes snap open and you sit up slightly, desperate and hazy, locking onto him. “What the fuck?”
“Shh,” he hushes you, though there’s no denying the look of satisfaction on his face. Javi brushes his lips over the corner of your mouth, calming you with a soft, feather-light kiss. “Just trust me, okay? You know I always take care of you.”
You do know. This man has pulled so many orgasms right out of your body without even fucking you with his dick. That reassurance melts away your frustration from being pulled back from the precipice. You nod, swallowing hard. “Okay.”
Your lips meet in a kiss that’s so intoxicating, tongues sliding against each other, his hand skipping down your side to the band of your panties.
Slowly, he drags the fabric down, his fingers gliding over your skin, leaving a blazing trail as they go.
When he finally discards your underwear, you’re left bare beneath him, exposed and aching, while he still wears that unbuttoned dress shirt, his slacks riding low on his hips, half undone.
It’s annoying how good he looks—just dressed enough to drive you wild with impatience.
He taps your knee, urging you to spread wider, his gaze fixed on you with unrestrained desire. And the way he looks at you—like you’re all he’s ever wanted—banishes every flicker of self-doubt, every whisper of insecurity.
You let yourself open up to him completely, your sticky, swollen pussy on full display, pulsing in anticipation, needing him more than words can say.
His eyes rake over you with reverence, dark and smoldering as he drinks in every inch of yourself that you’re offering to him, his chest rising and falling a little heavier. 
“Always so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss to your knee before settling back between your legs.
The vibrator flicks on again, and he traces it up your inner thighs, letting you tremble beneath his touch. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the urge to shout at him to stop playing around, to just give it to you.
Javier trails the toy along your slick lips, his gaze dark and hungry as your arousal drips out of your cunt, every inch of your body clenching with need. When he finally presses the vibrator to your clit, a shudder ripples through you, your back arching off the bed.
He groans low and deep, clearly savoring your reaction.
“Javi,” you moan, hips already grinding against the pressure as he keeps the vibrator in place, turning up the intensity to make you gasp, your body moving to meet it, demanding more.
“Feel good, baby?” he murmurs, his voice like smoke.
“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out, nodding feverishly, your eyes squeezed shut as you let the pleasure wash over you, helplessly rocking against him.
But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls it away.
Over and over, he teases, edging you with that relentless, maddening rhythm, each denial more tortuous than the last.
He alternates between fucking the toy inside you, pressing it against the fleshy cleft of your clit, and peppering soft, almost loving kisses down your body: your neck, your jaw, the valley between your breasts. His tongue traces your nipple in slow circles, flicking it just enough to drive you wild, until you’re a trembling, teary mess beneath him, desperate for release.
“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he coos, stroking your cheek as he sets the vibrator to its highest setting, plunging it inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy crying around it only fuel his hunger as he watches your face.
You feel his fingers cup your jaw, firm and unyielding, his eyes blazing into yours as you cling to his touch, mascara running down your cheeks, feeling so utterly wrecked.
“Please, Javi… please let me come,” you beg, your voice ragged. But he just tightens his hold, fingers digging into the skin of your cheeks, pressing the toy in deep as his thumb circles your clit, leaving you breathless. 
“Just when you think you can let go… it’s snatched from you,” he whispers, ignoring your pleas, dragging you to the brink only to pull the vibrator away once again, leaving you a shaking, furious mess.
A strangled sound escapes your throat, torn between anger and need, barely feeling like yourself.
Javier chuckles, bending down to nip at your chin, his teeth grazing your skin before his tongue traces a line up your jaw. “That’s how you’ve been making me feel for months now, nena,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy. It’s only fair that I make you feel even a fraction of it.”
“Y-You’re an asshole,” you try to retort, but your voice comes out barely above a whisper, your tone more a helpless whine than any real protest.
He grins, mocking your pout with one of his own, voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Don’t say that, baby. You’re breakin’ my heart.” He brushes one last kiss against your lips, pulling back just as you lean into him, already aching to feel him close again, his warmth a cruel tease.
He undresses fully, and your mouth literally waters as your gaze traces the sculpted lines of his stomach, following the trail of hair that leads down to his thick, throbbing cock.
The head is swollen and red, already dripping with precome, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your lips, your hips shifting instinctively, every nerve ending primed and desperate for him. You’ve been dreaming about this moment for so long, craving it with every fiber of your being. 
You need to fuck this man.
As he climbs back over you, his hands reach to pull you closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as if they belong there, your hands clutching at the solid warmth of his shoulders.
You pull him down to you, your bare breasts pressed to the hard plane of his chest, as he balances himself with both hands planted beside your head, his eyes burning into yours. 
“You okay?” he asks, voice soft, and you nod, kissing the corner of his mouth before tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Mhm,” you breathe, staring up at him, completely wrecked and totally ready. “I’m just ready to take you, Javi. Need it so bad.”
He groans, the heat in his eyes darkening as he adjusts his hips, hovering right there, just out of reach. “Go ahead, baby, take it. Put it in.”
His words are like gasoline to a fire, and a shiver runs through you at the sheer, visceral need in his command.
Reaching down, your fingers wrap around his length, both of you gasping as you feel the heat and hardness of him pulsing in your hand. You squeeze gently, stroking him slowly, and he hisses, rolling his hips into your grip.
You swirl your thumb over the head, spreading the bead of precome across his skin, the silky-slick texture making you dizzy with anticipation.
Drunk on him, on everything he evokes in you, you guide the head of his cock to your soaked, swollen entrance, rubbing it slowly against your aching slit.
The sensation has you trembling, but when he finally pushes forward, easing himself into you, you let out a loud, breathless whine. The stretch of him is so perfect, so utterly fulfilling that your back arches, your toes curling as your head falls back into the sheets. 
“Oh, fuck—Javier, you feel so good,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him, holding him deep as your body adjusts to every thick, pulsing inch. It’s even better than you ever imagined.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he thrusts forward, filling you to the hilt. “Nena,” he grunts, voice ragged, “I’m not gonna last—shit.” He sounds as wrecked as you feel, his hips pressing flush against yours as he sinks in deep, your inner walls gripping him as if you’ll never let him go.
“Please,” you whimper, grinding your hips up to meet him, urging him on. He sinks his teeth into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking until he’s left a mark, his mouth hot and relentless as he peppers kisses and bites along your throat.
He’s holding himself back, giving you a second to catch up, but every inch of you craves him.
“Give me, fuck, gimme a second,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and controlled, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss, your bodies locked together as he builds a rhythm, deeper and more intense with every movement.
Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in as he grinds just right, the coarse hairs of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit, making you babble helplessly against his parted lips, your own pleasure climbing higher with each thrust. “Right there, Javi, right there—I’m so close, please…”
He speeds up, his strokes hard and unrestrained, driving you to the edge. But even as he tries to keep his control, you feel him faltering, his body tensing as the pleasure becomes too much.
“Fuck—puta madre, nenita—you feel so good—” His voice breaks, and he gives one, two, three hard thrusts, burying himself deep as his release finally takes over, his warm, pulsing release spilling into you as he groans loudly, hips grinding as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm.
Your chest heaves with every breath, your body still humming with tension. As much as you’re flattered by his performance, you’re left tingling, unfinished, after all the edging and teasing he put you through.
“Javi…” You murmur softly, your hands sliding from his tousled hair down his shoulders, the heat radiating off his skin. 
He responds with a low grunt, still draped over you, his weight grounding you.
“Javier,” you say again, a bit more insistently this time, and he lifts his head, eyes heavy and glazed, looking at you as if you’ve just broken him in the best way possible.
You’ve never seen him look this wrecked, his breath still uneven and his face flushed—all because of you. Fighting the urge to smirk, you can’t help but revel in the sight of him.
Men can be sensitive about finishing quickly, but he looks nothing but smug.
“Pussy’s too damn good, baby. Fuckin’ Christ,” he groans, a grin tugging at his lips, his words breathy and awed.
Now you let yourself smirk, feeling the flush of satisfaction. He nuzzles his nose against yours, murmuring, “Gotta make up for that.”
You raise a brow, intrigued. And then he’s moving, slowly pulling out of you, making you hum as the absence of him sends a small flutter through your sensitive cunt, his warm, milky cum trickling out and coating your thighs. 
With determination in his gaze, he begins his descent, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your sternum, his breath a delicious tease against your skin until he’s nestled between your legs.
His broad shoulders press your thighs open, and then he throws them over his shoulders, eyes locked on yours, his look nothing short of ravenous.
Javi nips and kisses along your inner thighs, each bite and lick sending sparks straight to your core. When he finally reaches your swollen, aching pussy, his thumbs slide over your folds, parting them to reveal the slick mess he left behind.
Then, you feel the first swipe of his tongue, warm and slow, tasting you both. His groan is deep and low, the sound vibrating against you as he begins to devour you, licking and slurping at your mixed arousal with a hunger that’s overwhelming. 
You can’t hold back—you’re too wound up, too sensitive, and you grab at his hair, your fingers twisting and tugging as your release crashes through you, every wave building on all the ones denied before. 
You’re left gasping, body arched and taut, thighs clamping around his head as you scream his name, mindlessly babbling through the pleasure.
“Javi! Fuck—fuck, yes, oh god—” 
He growls against you, mouth working as he drinks in every pulse, his tongue relentless as he wrings every last aftershock from your shaking body.
It’s beyond anything you’ve felt before, overwhelming and intense, leaving you utterly spent as you finally start to come down, your body melting beneath him, weak and utterly satisfied.
As he finishes devouring you between your thighs, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s thrusting into you again, harder and deeper this time, with a fierce intensity that rips a loud, shameless cry from you.
Right, he’s got that pornstar stamina.
His hands grip your hips, pulling you up with him as he sits up, his brows knitted in concentration, his tongue peeking out as he watches you completely unravel around him.
“That’s right, baby,” he growls, “Gonna give me one more on my cock, show me how bad you wanted it.”
You used to roll your eyes at the exaggerated moans you’d hear on set, doubting anyone could actually be that good.
But he is that good. Beyond that good. He’s better.
Now here you are, body trembling, head thrown back, moaning his name so loudly it might echo through the whole building. Every hard thrust feels like it’s driving into the core of you, filling you so perfectly that the room spins. 
His grip tightens, hands splayed across your hips as he finds a rhythm that sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. The thick drag of his cock hits every spot, and he knows just how to read every gasp, every shudder, adjusting his pace and angle to push you higher and higher. 
He pulls your legs up, folding them against your chest, his hips angled to grind against that one perfect spot that has stars dancing across your vision. You’re lost to him, mimicking those moans you used to scoff at, now higher and even more desperate as he laughs, deep and husky.
“Got you singin’ like a fuckin’ bird, nenita,” he teases, his laugh tapering off into a low groan. “And to think you didn’t want this. Now look at you—all fucked out and creamin’ on my cock”
Your bed creaks with every hard thrust, the scent of sex thick in the air, but all you can focus on is him—his rough hands, the way he looks down at you, utterly in control.
He’s all you can feel, all you can breathe, and as he digs his nails into the plush skin of your thighs, you know you’re on the edge, your pussy clenching tightly around him. 
Your gaze meets his, and somehow you manage a blissful, shaky smile, a small act of defiance just before he pushes you over.
“There she is,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on, baby—let me feel it.”
“Javi… oh my fuck, I’m coming!” The words are a gasp, strangled and desperate, as your body locks around him, your orgasm crashing through you in waves that leave you breathless, gushing around his cock as every muscle in your body clenches tight.
It feels like you’ve drifted to the heavens, like he’s drawn out every last ounce of strength from you. 
You’re dazed, floating, but he’s still there, whispering to you, “Good girl, that’s it. I’ve got you,” his voice a warm balm as he slows his movements, matching the rhythm of your aftershocks, soothing you with each gentle thrust as he holds you close.
Your body shudders, tiny jolts of overstimulation sparking through you as he stays with you, coaxing you back down from the edge, until you’re nothing but a soft, sated mess in his arms.
He gently eases your legs down, pulling out of you with a slow, tender touch before settling by your side. 
His arms wrap around you, drawing you in close as you both lie there, utterly spent, skin warm and sticky from sweat and the lingering traces of your wild fucking.
His lips press a soft kiss to your forehead, and you let out a contented sigh, burrowing into his chest. You crave the solid weight of his body, the grounding warmth of him as you slowly come back to reality.
“You’re not real,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled but laced with awe. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, a low, comforting sound that makes you smile even wider.
“I’m very real, and very yours, nena,” Javi replies, his hand drifting lazily up and down your back in gentle strokes that make you melt even further. The warmth of his words seeps into you, and your heart flutters.
You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest, and take a moment to really admire him: the deep brown of his eyes, the dark sweep of his lashes, the fullness of his mustache, and that defined jaw you love tracing your fingers along.
Your hands wander, tracing faint shapes on his shoulders, running over the hard lines of his triceps, relishing the feel of him beneath your fingers.
“I need a shower. And to change these sheets,” you murmur, glancing around at the disheveled bed.
“Yeah, someone made quite the mess,” he teases, pinching your ass, which makes you yelp and swat his chest with a playful smack.
“Asshole,” you grumble, but he just laughs, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that’s softer, and you melt into him all over again.
“I’ll go start the shower for you, then change the sheets while you’re in there.”
“Catering to my every whim already? I just became your girlfriend,” you tease.
“Yeah, and I’m trying to keep it that way for the foreseeable future,” he says, brushing a quick, sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before slipping away from you.
You can’t help the little pout that forms as he sits up, rolling his shoulders back, his muscles jolting, which makes you weak in the knees.
You watch him as he moves throughout your room then into your bathroom, your eyes trailing over every muscle, every line of his body, unable to resist biting your lip.
He really is gorgeous—so damn hot—and he’s all yours.
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bbyquokka · 2 years ago
Text
You love me though ˗ˋ꒰♡꒱ˊ˗
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➥ pairing: Lee Minho x F!Reader
➥ genre: fluff, smut. MDNI
➥ synopsis: Minho helps you cook for you and your date, despite feeling jealous. However, when your date stood you up, Minho comforts you, making you realise your true feelings.
➥ warnings: smut, protected sex, fingering, clit play, blowjob, nipple play, blood [mentioned, not described], violence [mentioned, not described], cheating, unrequited love, explicate language, dirty thoughts [m], alcohol consumption, pet names [babe, kitten], jealousy – if i missed any, lmk!
➥ words: 7.5k
➥ a/n: i know, i know. another minho fic but this has been unfinished in my drafts for a while plus i have minho brain rot rn i blame taste soooo. i also got this idea from rewatching minhos vlogs and skz code ep 10-12, where he would cook for the boys. i hope y'all enjoy!
Feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
➥ m.list
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Flicking through various cookbooks, you groan, slowly feeling yourself becoming frustrated. You discarded the current book you were flicking through beside you.
You run your hand through your hair, looking at the piles of discarded books and printed recipes. You grab your phone, looking for something online but to no avail.
"What am I going to do? All these recipes are too difficult for me." You mumble to yourself. You put your head in your hands, feeling frustrated tears pooling in your eyes.
You sniffle, blinking back the tears as you thought of what to do. You have a date tomorrow night and – for some reason – you agreed to make them dinner at your place.
You have been talking to your date for 1 month before deciding it was time to take it a little further. Unbeknownst to him, you cannot cook a single thing, no matter how hard you try.
"Wait.. I know someone who can help me!" You grab your phone, pulling up the contacts. You press the call button, putting your phone to your ear as it rings. After two rings, you got an answer.
"What do you want?" You scoff.
"Well, nice to hear from you too, Minho."
"I'm busy, (Y/N)" Minho exclaims. You hear the sounds of something rustling, Minho making cooing sounds. You raise a brow.
"And by busy, you mean, 'I'm actually spending time with my three fur children so could you please leave me alone?'" you mock, doing your best Minho impression. Minho sighs. You can practically see his eyes rolling at you.
"Exactly. You know this so why are you bothering me?"
"Minho?" You question. You receive a small "Mhm" from him, indicating that he is half listening and half occupied.
"How long have we been best friends?"
"Since we were children, why?" Minho sighs again, realising where this is going. You giggle. "Okay, spill it out (Y/N) what do you want from me?"
"I need help, like desperately!"
"Okay, with what exactly?"
"Uh, well, you know how I've been talking to someone," Minho hums. "Well, they're coming over to my place."
"Look, if you've called me just to ask me for love advice, I'm not interested." Minho removes his phone from his ear, about to hang up on you.
"Nonono, waittt." Your desperate voice echoes through Minho's apartment. He rolls his eyes, placing his phone back on his ear.
"I'm cooking.." You mumble.
Silence. You blink, looking at your phone screen thinking Minho disconnected, but he was still on the phone with you.
"H-Hello? Minho?" A fit of laughter suddenly erupts in your ear. You can practically see his eyes scrunching up at the corners, his teeth on display as he clutches his stomach.
"Y-You?! Cooking?!" Minho splutters between his fits of giggles. "No way!"
"Minho! stoppp!" You whine as you pout, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
"How did you manage that?" Minho's laughter dies down, a finger coming to the corner of his eye to wipe away a tear.
"Man! I don't know, okay! I guess I just want to impress them, so I said I would cook. I've looked at so many recipes, but they're so complicated, Minho." you grumble.
"Okay, first of all (Y/N) recipes are not complicated, they're designed to be fool proof. You just, really suck at cooking." You roll your eyes, moving you mouth in time with Minho's words, mocking him.
"Second of all, just order and pass it off as your own, I'm sure they wouldn't see a difference."
"I can't do that! That's just – morally wrong, Min!" You gasp.
"Then if you don't want to do that, why phone me?" Minho says, petting Dori who took vacancy on Minho's lap.
"Well, I was thinking–"
"Yeah, no wonder it smells like burning. Don't think too hard, you'll fry your brain." Minho laughs, interrupting you mid sentence.
"You're so meann!" You whine.
"You love me though, Kitten." You blush softly, going shy at his words. You can feel his smugness radiating through the phone.
"Fuck you, Min." You softly speak, playing with the ends of your hair like a shy school girl who has a crush.
"You wish."
"Min, stoppp. let me speak!" Minho chuckles.
"Okay okay, I'm sorry. You were saying?" You clear your throat, gaining back your composure.
"Anyways – I was thinking, seeing as you're so good at cooking – you could help me!"
"Uh, no."
"Huh? Why?" You whine
"Because, you got yourself in this mess, you can get yourself out of it."
"But Min! I'm your bestest ever friend in the whole wide world! You love me!"
"Yes and–" Minho cut himself off, clearing his throat as he runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm not helping you, Kitten."
"But, what if I start cooking and I suddenly burn my apartment down?!" You gasp, getting an idea "Then I can come and live with you Min! Wouldn't that be so much fun!!"
"Absolutely not! I have all the fun I need in the form of my beloved 3 cats."
"Plus me. It'll happen Minho. If I cook and I burn my apartment down, I'm going to live with you! It'll be so much fun! Just think of all the pampering sessions we would have."
You smirk, hearing Minho groan. You have him right where you want him – you won.
"Ugh! fine, you win. I'll help you out!" You grin, cheering victoriously
"Thank you Min! I love youuu." You coo
"Yeah yeah. Just get your ass down to the supermarket. I'll meet you there." Minho hangs up. You punch the air excitedly, basking in your glory.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Standing at the supermarket waiting for Minho, you shiver as the crisp autumn air runs shivers down your spine. You nuzzle into your scarf, hands in your coat pocket.
You look around at the various people walking past you and inside the supermarket. You look at your digital clock on your phone, your wallpaper background being of you and Minho, taking a cute selfie together.
You look up, seeing Minho walking towards you. You beam, waving your arms in the air before running to him.
"Minho!!" You shout, giggling as you run to him. Minho looks up, rolling his eyes at you before laughing softly. He stops in his tracks, opening his arms wide. You run into his arms, Minho grunting at the sudden impact.
You nuzzle into Minho's chest, taking in his scent as you hum. Minho looks down at you, smiling softly as he wraps his arms around your figure.
"I've missed you, Minho!" Your words muffled against his chest. Minho laughs softly, ruffling your hair. You whine, pushing his hands away.
"We spoke literally 10 minutes ago!" You pull away from Minho, fixing your hair as you pout at him.
"You know what I mean. You spend more time with your cats than you do with me." You whine.
"Because my cats are adorable and oh-so sweet."
"And I'm not?" You raise a brow playfully. Minho takes a few seconds to think, humming in the process. You scoff, playfully hitting his chest. He grunts and laughs.
"You know I've always found you adorable, kitten." Minho smirks, winking. You blush, burying your face into your scarf.
"Fuck you and your charms." You mumble. Minho hums, loving how you always act shy around him. It makes his heart swell up with more love for you.
Minho has loved you for as long as he can remember. He believes that you two are soulmates. He didn't realise he had feelings for you until you got your first serious partner.
Minho hated it. He hated it so much. How he couldn't have you to himself – it made him green with envy. Your partner wasn't exactly nice to you during the relationship. They had a history of cheating in the past but, for some reason, you thought you'd be different.
However, 2 months in and they had already fucked someone else. You stupidly forgave them after they spewed lies about how they would 'change' and 'it meant nothing, just a one off'. The cheating carried on for months as well as the constant disrespect
Your ex partner hated Minho because Minho wasn't blind. Your ex had you wrapped around their little finger so they knew they could get away with anything, however, Minho's different.
He saw past the bullshit and that scared your ex. They knew you went crying to Minho, they also knew that Minho 100% tried to convince you to leave them.
To add fuel to the fire, Minho and your ex got into a fight. Minho was around yours and your ex hated that, accused you of doing sexual things with him. You were dumbfounded, your blood boiling with rage as your ex screamed accusations after accusations.
Seeing you in so much pain and distress caused Minho to stand up for you, joining in calling him a bastard and that they don't deserve you. Due to rage, Minho said some things that should not be repeated. Your ex hated that, felt threatened so, in their usual cowardly ways, they swung so Minho swung back.
You broke up the fight, your ex calling you both bitches. You were in floods of tears. A busted lip and a black eye along with some blood were the only injuries Minho sustained. You helped clean him up and once done, Minho had a serious talk with you.
Minho is direct, he doesn't sprinkle sugar onto shit because at the end of the day, it's still shit. The words Minho spoke hurt but it had to hurt in order for you to open your eyes – which you finally did, after 9 months.
Since then, you have been healing with the help of Minho. He was so good to you, making sure you were eating and staying hydrated. Occasionally, he would storm into your apartment, swing you over his shoulder and force you to get dressed by throwing random items of clothing at you.
He loves you and as much as he wants to tell you his feelings, he's scared. He doesn't want to lose you and if that means being friend zoned until the day you both grow old and live with 10 cats, then so be it.
You take Minho's hand into yours. Minho made a mental note of how soft your hands feel against his skin. His heart rate speeding up a little as you drag him inside the store.
You grab a shopping cart, pushing it into the store whilst Minho walks beside you.
"So, what do I need?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
After half an hour of shopping for ingredients, amongst other things, you paid for it all, walking out the store with multiple bags in hand. You and Minho walk to your apartment. You somehow convinced him to help you cook and by that you meant – 'You cook, I watch'
But how could Minho say no to you when you give him your best puppy eyes, ones that make him melt.
Once home, you got to work unpacking. Minho rolls up his sleeves, washing his hands as you did the same. The ingredients for the meal you plan on cooking spread out across the counters.
"Okay. First things first, we need to cut the meat." Minho instructs. You nod, grabbing a knife. Minho keeps an eye on you, ready to come to your aid in case you hurt yourself. You place the meat on a chopping board, cringing at the texture.
"Ew! it's so slimy!" You whine. Minho shakes his head, laughing softly.
"Slimy? It's raw pork belly (Y/N) How can it be slimy?" Minho chuckles, grabbing a knife also and the veg.
"It just is okay. Don't question my intelligence." You state playfully. Minho looks at you as he washes the veg, eyebrow raised.
"Intelligence? What intelligence?" You pout, glaring at him as he dried the veg, smirking at you.
"You're so mean, Minho!"
"Yet you love me, kitten." Your face flushes red, heart rate slowly speeding up, like it always does when he is his usual charming self.
"Yes, I do." You admit, slicing up the pork. Minho swallows, pressing his lips together. He knew you meant it in the friend way however, he couldn't stop his heart from racing, pounding against his chest.
"Ah, this sucks." He whispers to himself, voicing out his thoughts as he peels and chop the veg.
"Minho!!" You whine, placing the knife down. His head spins to the side, eyes widening as he notices blood from your finger.
"Shit. Are you okay?!" He rushes to your side, looking at your cut finger.
"It hurts, Minho." You sniff.
"I know kitten. Go run it under the water. I'll get first aid." You nod, placing your finger under the cold water. You wince at the sting as Minho comes back with the first aid kit.
"Can I?" He holds his hand out to you. You nod, placing your hand on his. He brings your hand close to his face, looking at your wound.
"Oh kitten. What are you like." He chuckles softly. You pout, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "Lucky, it's only a small cut so, you'll be okay. I'll clean it and put a plaster on for you, okay?"
You nod, your bottom lip still sticking out. Minho cleans your wound and puts a pink plaster around your finger. He kisses it softly, making you go shy at the sweet gesture.
"Now, no more accidents. Okay?"
"Yes Sir!" You salute, giggling softly as Minho rolles his eyes and ruffles your hair.
"Let's get back to work kitten."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It took you and Minho exactly 4 hours to prepare and cook the meal for your date. You're currently getting ready whilst Minho sits on the sofa, sipping some cold water and browsing on his phone.
You instructed him to stay. You insisted you needed help in what to wear for your date and knew Minho would give his honest opinion. As much as Minho didn't want to, he did. It was bad enough he had to help you cook a meal for someone that wasn't him, but hey, if you're happy so is he.
You walk out your bedroom dressed in a sexy yet elegant dress. Your hair styled and face decorated with minimal make-up. You press your lips together, smoothing down your dress as you clear your throat.
Minho looks up from his phone, eyes widening at the sight of you. His body feels warm suddenly, blood rushing south as he looks at you up and down. His mind went blank
"So..?" You nervously ask after seconds of silence "How do I look?"
Minho's brain short circuits. He's speechless. To him, you're the most beautiful women on the planet and even though he is use to seeing you in casual clothing, seeing you in a elegant dress, was breath-taking to him
"Beautiful. You look absolutely beautiful, (Y/N). You're so breath-taking." You look at your feet shyly, playing with your fingers as you smiled softly
"R-Really?"
"Absolutely." Minho stands, walking towards you. He cups your face in his hands, making you look at him "You're the most beautiful woman on this planet."
Your face flushes red. The rosy red blush you used to decorate your cheeks, merging together with the colour of your flush.
"Y-You don't mean that Min." You whisper, hands coming up and placing them on top of his.
"I mean it kitten. With all my heart, I mean it. I've never seen a more beautiful, yet elegant woman in my life. You make me speechless."
He wants to kiss you. He saw your eyes flickering to his lips and back up again. He wants to convince you to not have this date. Every fibre in his body is screaming at him to just kiss your soft lips, even if it means you hating him for eternity.
He just wants a feel, a taste. To feel your soft skin against his fingertips. To hear your sweet, delicate moans. He's always wondered what you would sound like whilst his cock strokes the deepest parts of your body.
Are you loud or are you quiet? Do you whimper and beg or do you demand? So many questions he's asked himself. So many sinful thoughts he's masturbated to. So many times he's wished he could do sinful things to you
Now is his chance. Should he grab it with greedy hands or should he leave, allow you to have your date even if it means he has to watch from afar, yet again.
He wants it
He wants you. It's so close, he can taste it. That forbidden fruit coating his taste buds, making him addicted to you. His mind fuzzy as your perfume hits his nostrils. It's the same perfume you always use and has no effect on him, however this time, it's different. He feels dizzy. Greedy. Needy. He wants you so bad.
You clear your throat, removing your hands from his. Minho clears his own, blinking a few times as he comes back down to reality
"My date will be here soon."
"A-Ah. Yes, of course. I'll uhm, I'll get going." Minho rushes to the hallway, putting on his coat and shoes. "Have fun kitten. I hope it goes well for you!"
That's a lie.
He doesn't want it to go well. He wants it to end terribly. He wants you to phone him up, sobbing as you decide to tell him how much of an asshole your date is. He wants to be the one to hold you, kiss your forehead and tell you it's all okay. To soothe you of your pain, in more ways than one.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Hours pass by. Minho keeps checking his phone in case he misses you phoning or texting him, but nothing. Knowing that it was probably going well for you, he sighes, his heart heavy with despair and jealousy. Picking up Doongie from his lap, he rise up from the sofa, deciding to call it a night.
Taking off his clothing so he was just in his boxer shorts, he gets into bed. As he's about to shut off his lamp, his phone rings. Looking at his screen, a burst of excitement and hopefulness runs through his body as your contact pops up
There's only one reason why you would phone him so late – your date went terrible
"What do you want?" Minho gives his usual greeting. Silence. He blinks, looking at his screen thinking you disconnected before placing his phone back on his ear
"Kitten? Hello? Are you there?" That's when he hears it. Your heartbroken sobs. Minho shoots up out of bed, redressing himself.
"M-Minho." You sob.
"Hold on kitten, I'll be there."
He drives to your apartment, breaking every law possible but he didn't care. He hates seeing and hearing you cry however, when it comes to your heartbroken sobs, it hits Minho differently. It breaks his own heart.
He knocks on the door before using the spare key you gave him years ago. He lets himself in, looking around your place. He notices the food and table you set has been untouched. The bottle of wine plus one glass was missing from the table
"Kitten?" He softly calls out.
"Living area." Minho rushes to where you were, his legs carrying him as fast as they could. The living area is dimly lit with a lamp that was suppose to set a romantic atmosphere but now held a much sadder atmosphere
His eyes fell on to you, his gaze softening as he sees you sipping the wine on the sofa. He walks over to you, sitting beside you as he cups your cheeks softly.
"Oh kitten. What happened?" Tears prick your lower lash line, spilling over and replacing your dried mascara stains with new ones. Minho's heart break.
"T-They never came! I waited Min. I waited and waited and nothing." You speak through broken sobs, your breath hiccupping in your throat. Minho frowns, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
"Not even a call or text?" You shake your head.
"Nothing! Nothing at all. They just stood me up Min! It'd hurt less if they gave me a shit excuse but no."
Minho pulls you into his chest, rocking you back and forth slowly as he wrapped his arms around you gently. He strokes your arm soothingly. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
His musk cinnamon scent hit your nostrils and before you know it, you broke down. Your sobs shake your body, breathing becoming erratic. Minho hushes you softly, stroking your hair to calm you down.
He thought he would be ecstatic to hear about your failed date. That way, he could selfishly have you all to himself. However, seeing and hearing you in so much pain, broke his heart and he no longer felt ecstatic, but sad and stupid.
"There, there kitten. It'll all be okay in the end." His soothing words calm your cries. You pull away from Minho's chest, your breath hiccupping at the back of your throat and chest.
Minho wipes away your tears gently. Your eyes swollen and puffy as they look glossy from the tears. Your cheeks flush red as your skin feels warm from your outburst.
"M-Minho." You hiccup, struggling to catch your breath.
"Before you even think about doing or saying anything, you need to calm down kitten. C'mon, take deep breaths with me." You copy Minho in taking deep breaths, slowly calming down and feeling your heart rate resume its natural pace.
"Good girl." Minho praises, kissing your forehead gently.
"Am I cursed, Min?" You mumble. Minho looks at you confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Every relationship I have fails. Maybe I'm cursed. Maybe I'm destined to be forever alone with 10 cats." Minho chuckles softly, shaking his head.
"You're not cursed kitten. You just haven't found the one yet."
"Have you found 'the one'?" You looked up. Minho was taken aback by your sudden question.
"Why'd you ask?"
"Well, I know you've had relationships in the past but when was your last one? 1, 2–"
"4 years kitten. It's been 4 years since my last relationship."
"Why so long Minho? You're a handsome man, you could have anyone you want."
"But I don't want just anyone, I want you" – is what he wanted to say. He ruffles your hair softly, making you pout.
"Thanks kitten. I'm flattered." Minho winks. "Now, go get changed into something comfortable." You pout, nodding slowly before standing and walking to your bedroom.
You return bare faced, hair down and wearing shorts and an old oversized t-shirt that once belonged to Minho. He smiles, his heart warming up as he sees the t-shirt.
"You still have that old thing?"
"Of course! It's special." You speak, sitting down next to Minho and grabbing your wine glass. He hums softly in acknowledgement. He spent some time with you, helping you clean up the forgotten food. Once he was convinced you were going to be okay, he decided it was time for him to head home.
"Well, I'm going to leave now kitten. Now that I know you'll be okay, I'll be on my way." Minho turns his back to you as he was about to walk to the hallway.
Your hand fly's out instinctively, grabbing Minho's wrist. He looks back at you over his shoulder, slowly turning to putty as you look at him with doll eyes
"Don't go." You whisper. Minho swallows. He's spent the night with you numerous times, however, tonight feels different. He nods slowly, agreeing to stay with you.
"Okay, I'll stay kitten."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
2am rolls over. You and Minho are sitting on the sofa, laughing and gossiping. You both have had a drink so you were feeling a little bit tipsy.
"Don't you miss it, Min?" You ask before bringing your wine glass to your lips. You sip the red liquid, licking your top lip to rid of any residue.
"Miss what?" Minho's eyes dart to your tongue, watching it lick your top lip before disappearing back into your mouth.
"Sex." Normally, Minho would have rolled his eyes, scold you about how nonchalant and straight forward you can be when it comes to sex. However, with the alcohol running through his bloodstream, he didn't mind.
"Yeah. I do."
"What do you miss about it?"
"Everything. The touch, the taste, the sounds. I miss all of it kitten. I am a man after all and just like you, I have needs." Minho winks, sipping his alcoholic beverage. You stick your tongue out at him playfully "Do you miss it?"
You think for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeah. I miss having a connection with someone though."
"What do you mean?" Minho looks at you, his hand placed on your thigh gently as he strokes your soft skin with his thumb.
"Well, I don't mind one night stands but I miss sex with a meaning. I want to feel connected, feel what my partner is feeling. I want to share it and enjoy it." You let out a deep sigh before speaking "I thought I did, but turns out they're just like the rest of them." You mumble bitterly.
"Don't worry kitten. You will find the one eventually. You're gorgeous, smart and adorable" You roll your eyes at Minho.
"Ahuh and pigs can fly."
"Don't be like that, kitten. I mean it. To me, you're perfect."
"I am?" You ask, looking at him with those eyes that makes him melt. He swallows his saliva. Now is his chance. It's now or never, even if it means sacrificing the friendship.
"Yes, you are. To me, you're the most perfect and beautiful woman to have walked the planet (Y/N)" You blush a deep shade of red. Your heartbeat speeding up and thumping loudly against your chest.
Your skin on your thigh feels hot where Minho is stroking and truth be told, you've forever felt like this around Minho. You've always thought it was because he's a charming man but maybe that's not the case.
Is this – love? Has 'the one' been right under your nose this whole time?
"Remember when you asked me if I've found the one?" You nod "The answer to that is yes, I have."
"Who??" Minho closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for impact. He opens them again, leaning in close to you. You swallow, frozen in place as his face gets dangerously close to yours.
"You." He whispers against your lips. Whether it was the events that happened or the alcohol in his system, he feels a surge of confidence run though him.
He leans in, connecting his lips to your own. Your eyes widen in shock. Minho's lips stay still as you struggle to understand what was happening. Minho's heart beating against his chest so hard, he thought it was going to rip out from his ribcage
Seconds went by painfully for him and when he thought all hope was lost, that he lost you for good, you close your eyes and move your lips against his, encouraging him to move in sync with yours.
A burst of giddiness and disbelief washes over him. You, the person he has loved since forever, was kissing him. It feels like his birthday had come so soon.
You don't hate it, in fact, you love it. Minho's lips are soft and plump. They mould together with your own, like you're made for one another. It's blissful to you.
You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers interlocking behind his neck to keep him close to you. Minho squeezes your thighs gently. You deepen the kiss, lust and want slowly washing over you and consuming your mind
Minho nibbles and licked your bottom lip, silently asking for permission which you granted. Your lips part for his tongue to dive inside. He tastes the inside of your mouth, wine coating his taste buds.
He hum in the kiss as you whimper. Your tongues meeting together. The wet muscles colliding and fighting for dominance – a fight that was guaranteed for you to lose. Saliva pools at the corners of your mouth, your fingers buried in Minho's hair as your skin feels hot to the touch.
Your mouth feels good. Minho's skilful tongue tasting and battling against your own. Lust pools at your core, breathing becoming irregular. Minho parts from your lips, panting softly as the oxygen resumed back into his lungs.
Your lips swollen, cheeks flush as you look at him and whimper.
"Minho. More."
Minho snaps. The rationality that told him no. That told him to hold on, snapped. He stands up, before picking you up by your ass. He cups under it as you wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck.
You mewl, feeling his erection against your clothed pussy. As Minho walks to your bedroom, you lick a long, wet strip up his neck, stopping at his ear. You nibble the lobe, causing Minho to shiver and grunt before kissing his neck softly.
Once in your room, Minho places you on the bed gently. Your back landing against your soft mattress. Ethereal. You look so ethereal to him. He wants to caress you, take his time with you. He wants to drive out each and every sweet moan from your lips.
He's wanted this – wanted you – for so long, that every fibre in his body is screaming at him to just pounce on you. Take you roughly, corrupt your mind. He wants to piledrive into you, make you so sore that you'd have no choice but to depend on him for help.
He's a rational man, but when it comes to you, the beast comes out from hiding.
"Minho." You mewl. "C'mere." You extend your arms out, doing grabby hands at him. Minho laughs as he kneels between your legs. The mattress dipping at his weight as he leans over you, hands planting firmly on the mattress against your head.
Leaning in, his lips attached themselves to the skin of your neck. Sucking and nibbling, you moan softly, hands tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt.
He pulls away for a second, taking his t-shirt off. You hum at the sight of his toned body. You place your hand on his chest, feeling how sturdy it is against your fingertips
"You've been working out?"
"From time to time." Minho states with a shrug. He takes your hand from his chest, kissing the palm of your hand gently as he looks in your eyes. You melt as you see nothing but love coating his honey eyes.
"Beautiful. You're so beautiful (Y/N)." you whine softly, turning your head to the side to avoid his gaze. Minho leans over you, tilting your head back to face him with his fingers against your jaw.
You whimper again, closing your eyes as your lips connect again. This time, the kiss is filled with passion, want and love. It's slow and seductive. It allows you both to bask in the feeling of each other. You feel Minho's love radiating from him and you hoped he felt yours.
He's always been the one. You've just been too blind and stupid to realise it – until tonight.
Minho slips your shorts off, throwing them on the floor. You shiver as his fingertips stroke the inside of your thighs, getting dangerously close. You pull away from his lips, lifting the t-shirt up and over your head.
You blush a deep shade of red, feeling exposed in just your baby pink cotton panties. Minho's eyes scan up and down your body, taking in every detail and curve you have to offer.
"M-Minho. Stop staring." You whimper, head turned to the side. You put your arms over your breasts, covering them. Minho clears his throat as he grabs your wrists gently, removing your arms.
"Don't hide. You're extremely gorgeous." His words coated with love as he speaks softly. He looks at your breasts, licking his lips before looking at you "Can I?"
"Of course." You nod. His head dips low. He plants soft kisses down your neck and between your breasts. He cups your left breast in his hand gently, squeezing the soft flesh as his lips kiss your right.
You hum softly. The tip of his tongue circled around your areola as his fingers gently stroke over your hardened nipple. He rolls the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger.
You hum at the sensation, the tip of his tongue flicking across your nipple before he sucks and gently nibbles it. You groan softly, feeling his lips attach to your skin. He kisses and sucks the skin of your breast, leaving marks behind.
He pulls away from your breasts, his cheeks flush. He looks down at you, biting his bottom lip softly.
"Fuck, you drive me crazy." He whispers before kissing your lips again. His hand travels down your stomach to your inner thighs, stroking them slowly.
He gently parts your legs before moving to cup your clothed pussy. You groan in the kiss, his fingers rubbing up and down your slit, feeling a wet patch from your slick slowly forming on your panties.
He gently starts to rub your clit over your panties. Minho swallows each one of your sweet whimpers. Your fingertips lightly travelling down his back, goose bumps rising on his soft skin.
You tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, wanting off. Pulling away from your lips, he takes his sweatpants off, throwing them beside your t-shirt before sitting on the bed, back against the headboard.
You swallow, eyes darting to his crotch. An obvious tent had formed in his black boxer shorts, a wet patch slowly forming from his pre-cum. This time, it was Minho's turn to feel shy
"Stop staring kitten." Minho blushes, clasping his hands together in front of his erection. You sit up, crawling between his legs as you remove his hands slowly
"Don't hide, baby. Show me." You mewl. Minho groans softly, feeling your fingertips dance along his shaft through the material.
"You feel so – girthy. I wonder how you're going to fit inside me." You mewl, locking eyes onto him. He presses his lips together in a thin line, shivering at your words.
"I'll take care of you kitten, don't worry."
"Oh, I have no doubt about that Min." You kiss his shaft gently through the material of his boxer shorts as you hook your fingers under his waistband. You look at him with questioning eyes, to which Minho nods, granting you permission.
You pull down his boxer shorts, discarding them on the ground. His cock springs free from its restraints as a sigh of relief leaves Minho's lips. You swallow, eyes widening.
His cock a little over average in length however, he's girthy. Tip red and coated in a thin layer of pre-cum. His veins protruding along the side, fading at the tip.
"Kitten seriously. Stop staring at me. You're making me shy."
"You're so adorable Minho." You coo. You wrap your hand around the base of his penis, his skin hot against the palm of your hand. You hum softly, slowly stroking him as you lowered your head. The tip of your tongue connected with his tip.
You give small kitten licks, humming as the salty flavour of pre-cum coating your taste buds. You alternate between stroking him and massaging his balls causing Minho to groan softly.
You look up at him through your lashes, your core clenching at the sight of him. Rosy cheeks, glossy eyes and lips parted – he looks so dreamy. You close your eyes, wrapping your lips around his tip. You slowly lower your head, your warm and wet mouth trapping Minho's length. You take half of his length in your mouth.
You bob your head up and down slowly, wasting no time. Your tongue swirling along his length, saliva accumulation in your mouth threatening to spill from the corners. You stroke what you couldn't reach, wrist rotating.
Minho grips the bed sheets, sweet moans leaving his lips. He cannot believe his eyes. He's dreamt of this for so long, that seeing you give him a blowjob feels like another dream.
Your lips around his shaft, the feel of his cock stroking the insides of your mouth as your tongue swirls along his length feels so heavenly to him. He tucks your hair behind your ear, looking down at you as you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hum, the vibrations hitting his cock sending shivers down his spine.
You pull away from him, hand still stroking his cock. Your lips plump and eyes glossy with lust.
"Fuck, I can't." Minho grabs your shoulders gently, pushing you down so your back is against the soft mattress. You squeal, laughing softly.
Minho pulls down your panties, his mouth salivating at the sight of your cunt. Your slick coats your folds making it shine in the dim light. Using two fingers, he parts your folds before stroking up and down your slit getting his fingers coated with your juices.
You hum softly at the feeling, biting your lip as you anticipate his next move. He press his finger against your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly as he uses your slick as lubricant. Your hips buck at the sensation, Minho chuckling softly.
"Everything okay kitten?"
"M-Mhm. everything is fine just, I haven't been touched like this for a while."
"Do you feel good?"
"I feel amazing, Minho." You look in his eyes and smile softly. Minho's heart leaping out of his chest. He wants to take his time with you, show you how much you mean to him. He's going to handle you with care, like you're the finest pottery on the planet.
"Gosh, you're so beautiful (Y/N)" He whispers, his eyes scanning your body. You were about to protest his statement until you feel a finger slowly insert inside your entrance. He stops at the first knuckle, slowly moving it. He can feel how tight you are. Your cunt clenching around his finger.
"Kitten, relax." He softly speaks, leaning down to kiss your lips again. You hum, allowing yourself to relax which allows Minho to pump his finger inside you. He can feel you loosening around his finger, more of your slick coating him.
He wants to add a second. He wants to penetrate you with his thick cock, but he vowed to himself that he would treasure you. Make it just as pleasurable for you as it is for him
You may have been friends since childhood. You may know each others habits, however, when it comes to sex, you both clearly have some exploring to do. It's all about the chemistry, the connection. It has to feel good for you as it is for him and vice versa.
Only when you moaned out a breathy "more" did he insert a second finger, slowly. You groan, feeling his fingers scissor and stretch you out. He curls his fingers against your walls, his fingertips brushing against you. You wither, soft moans leaving your lips as you grip onto Minho's bicep. His muscles visible tensing as he thrusts his fingers inside you, veins slowly protruding alongside his arm.
Minho takes this time to admire your body. The way your stomach tenses and chest rises rapidly from your laboured breathing. How you would struggle to hold onto something because you feel too good. Your hair fanned out on the sheets, a thin layer of sweat slowly forming on your body.
This image of you will forever be engraved in his mind.
"M-Minho. I need more, I need so much more." Minho swallows, slowing down his thrusts. His cock twitching at the implication.
"A-Are you sure, kitten?" You nod your head fast, looking at him with doll eyes, begging him to penetrate you. "Okay, only if you're sure."
"A hundred percent Minho. Please, I need you so badly." You whimper as Minho pulls his fingers out off you slowly.
"Protection?" You point to your side draw. Minho raises a brow, opening the drawer to reveal a pack of condoms. He takes one before kneeling between your legs.
"You have a habit of keeping condoms in the side drawer or?" You playfully glare at him as he smirks.
"You can never be too sure, Minho! Its always best to keep protection close by."
"I guess." Minho shrugs as you raise a brow
"Don't you keep a pack close by? You know, just in case you bring home a one night stand?" You question.
"Nope." Minho opens the packet, taking the condom out.
"So you mean to tell me that you don't use them?" Minho shakes his head slowly as he smirks at you "Why."
Minho pumps himself a few times before rolling the condom on his length. "Because kitten, I prefer to go in raw."
You press your lips together, shivering at his words. "Maybe one day, you can fuck me raw."
"Don't tempt me kitten. It's bad enough that I'm battling between being rough and being gentle." You smirk, opening your legs wide. Grabbing the base of his cock, he guided his tip to your entrance.
"Ready Kitten?" Minho speaks softly.
"I'm ready." Minho pushes himself slowly inside you, taking extra care not to hurt you the best he could. You hiss, the burn radiating throughout your body from the stretch.
Minho pushes half his length inside you, pausing to allow you time to adjust. Your tight cunt clamping around his length, making it harder for him to cling onto the little bit of rationality he has left.
Minho interlocks his fingers with yours, stroking your hand softly with his thumb hoping to relieve you of your discomfort. You squeeze his hand gently.
"It's okay kitten. Take your time. Just let me know when you're ready." He speaks softly. You whimper, nodding. Minho patiently waits for you to adjust. Seconds later, you indicate that you are. Taking your waist in his hands, he slowly starts to thrust.
You groan at the feeling, the pain slowly turning into pleasure the more he thrusts. Your warmth encapsulated Minho's cock, making him shiver and slowly drown at the feeling
"Minho, faster, more!" You whisper. Minho grips your hips tightly, inserting the remaining of his length until he's bottomed out. You groan at the feeling of fullness, gripping the bed sheets in your hands. Minho's thrusts become powerful and fast. Skin slapping on skin, moans mixing and bouncing off the walls. You wither beneath him, unable to comprehend the amount of pleasure you're receiving.
Minho was also struggling to comprehend his own pleasure. Your warm, wet cunt feels so good around him. He feels like he's drowning. His head kicked back as soft groans left his lips. His body shining in the dim light due to it being coated in a thin layer of sweat. Beads of sweat run down his forehead and temples as his hair stocks to his skin.
"This is so much better than what I imagined." He groans between pants. You purposefully clench around his cock, making his moan.
"You feel good babe?" He nods fast, bottom lip captured between his bunny teeth. "Me too, It feels so good."
Minho's hips began to falter, his movements becoming sloppy. He squeezes your waist tightly, panting hard before the pad of his thumb comes into contact with your clit.
He rubs the sensitive bud as he thrusts into you. Your thighs shaking as your body jolts at the new sensation. You moan and whimper, the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening. Minho feels it from the way your cunt has a vice grip around his length, making it difficult for him to move.
"I think I'm going to cum." You struggle to say between your pants.
"Cum kitten. Cum around my cock." You squeeze your eyes shut, your orgasm washing over you in an instant. You cunt clenches and releases around Minho as your body shakes and empty moans leave your mouth. From how tight your cunt has a hold of him, Minho stops moving as he groans, emptying himself in the condom.
Minho continues to rub your clit, helping you rid out your high as he shallowly thrusts inside you to help rid out his own. Once calm, you push his hand away, claiming you're sensitive to the touch.
Minho chuckles, pulling you out of you and taking the condom off. He ties it before disposing of it in the trash. He lays next to you as your eyes slowly close.
Pulling your sweaty body against his own, you snuggle into him, enjoying the warmth and comfort he provides. You hum softly in contentment as you feel yourself relax – sleep slowly consuming your body
"Hey, no sleeping. We have to get cleaned up Kitten." Minho speaks softly
"What's there to clean? We used protection." You whisper.
"Well, you're probably sore and sweaty, so we have to help you get comfortable."
"I guess so, but I'm too tired, so carry me!"
"Absolutely not." You pout as you whine.
"You're so mean Minho!"
"But you love me."
You smiled softly at him. The typical banter between you both now having a new meaning.
"Yes. Yes, I do."
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kursed-curtain · 2 years ago
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I saw some comments on the wing fic who were asking about the wing covers, and the dormant avian-humanoid geek in my brain went :oops stop all functions until you answer this question + more:
---KQ Wings!AU idea and inspiration comes from @goddessoftechnology, thank you for all the bird hype and motivation!---
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So...I went a little overboard and tried illustrating as much as I could to answer any questions/give any visuals in terms of clothing! (Though I am fully open to more questions if y'all have any ;)
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There's a lot of variety in terms of wing clothing, and for this variety of avians they rely on having a space for their wings and a space for their tail!
(Graham's minor in creative costuming comes in handy, though in a world full of bird people this is just common knowledge. You just gotta get ✨creative✨)
For the Ch1 and Ch2 outfits, displayed here, I thought I'd show how they'd work and be fastened! Graham sounds like a laces kinda lad. The fastening is located at the bottom for easier access when it's time to take the clothes off.
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Typically the mantle (back feathers) compensates for the open-backed style of clothing. However, if you're not in the mood for being bare-backed and cold, a common solution is a cape!
Alternatively, if you're not a cape kinda person, there are plenty of outfits with detachable back flaps.
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One of the more common methods of fastening is buttons along the backside, though the ones towards the top may be a bit harder to get to. (I imagine the guards probably line up and help eachother with button fastening, it's what found family does!)
The guard pants are a looser material and make it easier for a tail to just slip through without needing to make space in the design. (I'm imagining it's some form of elastic but I'm not sure)
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I'm not typically a big fan of putting slits into wing clothing (usually wings are too big for a slit to ever make sense?)
however, armor is rigid! It makes a bit more sense and it doesn't look super weird. This is how most to all armor looks in this universe (with the exception of a few people)
Put this on top of the undergarments and you've got yourself a fine-fitting guard uniform!
Only thing left is...
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The uniform's wing cover! (The guard uniform's cover comes in the same striped colors as their pants~ however wing covers can come in all sorts of colors and designs)
Wing covers are typically made of a very lightweight cloth and are draped over the wings like a blanket!
Covers were made to be worn for colder months, with thicker material for better insulation, like an added coat. Despite how difficult it can be to fly with one, people started wearing them a bit more often for many different reasons: fashion, practicality, values, etc.
Wing covers, though looking like blankets in appearance, often have seams where the edge/tip of the wing is meant to slot into - making them feel more like gloves/bedsheet covers. Wing covers come in different sizes and work similarly to buying any other piece of clothing like gloves or shoes.
(There's alternative options for fastening the wing cover on. Sometimes it's built into the outfit, sometimes there's button holes in the *side* of some outfits where you can fasten them instead, and sometimes the wing cover isn't attached - they just drape it over like a blanket and leave it there. Pictured above is just how the guard uniform has it!)
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Hope you guyses enjoyed my ramblings! I really like overthinking things.
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cinnamonest · 4 years ago
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Let's say that darling has been very well behaved for over a year, stockholm has long since instilled into them, and shyly asks if they can try for a baby. How would the boys react? Which ones are on board for knocking up his darling? Pls I'm so horny for breeding it's embarrassing.
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Ahh I finally finished for these! It took a while lol but I tried to cover most of it
Zhongli is the best for taking care of you. He's not super panicky, but he is subtly concerned due to seeing his darling as so fragile. Constantly running around and getting you everything you ask for and a bunch of things you didn't ask for. Making sure you virtually never get up, gets you all the food you crave and the softest things to lay on.
And he'll insist on it. Like... He won't let you do anything, even those few freedoms you had before. Will constantly be checking up on you, probably won't leave the house. You're gonna be seeing even more of him than usual.
Now, yandere wise... An escape attempt during this time... Won't go over well. As usual, he kind of deludes himself about it, attributes it to hysteria of some sort, induced by your imbalanced hormones. That's ok. You just need something to keep you controlled. Unfortunately, he can't just give you hormonal control, as it could mess you or the baby up, so most likely it means keeping you heavily sedated. Makes things much easier.
He's surprisingly really good at handling a kid, though. Very gentle and capable, not particularly nervous, but not careless. He's one you won't have to worry about.
Albedo can be... Obnoxious. Bless him. You can't eat this, there's a .0002% chance it can harm the baby. You should sleep in this position, wake up at this time, do breathing exercises, constantly check your temperature and blood pressure and... You get the idea. He's very matter of fact about it, but deep down he's a nervous boi about it all. He's worried about possibilities of something bad happening, and will feel like it's his fault if something bad did happen. He'll be overall eager to actually have a kid though.
So he'll kind of rule your every action for a while - it's better not to challenge him, really, because if you do he'll go on and on about the medical, scientific reasons why you can't do this and have to do that. He's sweet about it though, you can tell he really cares. Outside of what he's dictated as necessary or forbidden by health reasons, he'll try to get you the things you want and crave, and will try to keep you sitting down as much as possible.
He gets extra nervous when holding a kid. Very stiff, perfectly still, probably gives it back very quickly out of nervousness.
Childe is ever the smug bastard. Wants to show you off, will take you places because look at him and the cute little wife he knocked up! It's a property thing, you're his little wife and he fucked you and now you have his baby. He's very proud of it all.
And actually, he'll be a little sweeter than usual all around, he's just in such a good mood. He'll have to lay off the sadistic tendencies for the sake of your health, so you get some respite in that regard, he becomes a lot more gentle, and will even do sweet things for you. He'll still be kind of condescending, though, teasing you as usual.
On a yan level, he's... More obsessive. In the past, he might have been one to leave little windows of opportunity to leave just to chase you, gave you wiggle room to be defiant so he could get the thrill of punishing you, but that's gone now. The moment you act up he'll lay down the consequences, and make it very clear you won't be disobeying from now on.
Holding a kid, he's more gentle than usual, but will definitely be one to pull some shit like pretending like he's about to drop it just to see you panic.
Bonus, a few years down the road he's gonna be super obsessive and showoff-y. Think Maes Hughes level of proud.
Diluc is kind of hilarious because he's a nervous wreck. It's adorable. It gets annoying kinda fast, though, he's constantly panicked over every little thing you do, acts like a slight pained groan is a sign that you're dying or something. He's kind of embarrassed about his own tendency to be overly worried, and he'll cave to being teased about it. He'll be very happy initially because it fits the ideal in his head of what he wants, though.
He's actually not particularly worse, because you're already pretty restricted. He will, however, significantly reduce the number of people that come to the winery, instead choosing to meet all of his appointments elsewhere if not cancel them entirely. He doesn't like people being close to you, even just in proximity - even if they don't know you're there, it makes him feel uneasy. He'll check on you frequently, more than usual, and insist on everything you eat, drink, and every waking moment is accounted for and approved of.
He'll hesitate to hold one because he's so nervous about dropping it or something. And he nearly does because he's so trembling. Again, it's actually really cute, and he's definitely embarrassed by it.
Kaeya is... Problematic. As I've said before, he's actually one of a few where you run the risk of jealousy. It's incredibly immature, and he's well aware of that, so he'll keep it well hidden. But it kind of irks him if he sees how much you stress over a baby. As a result, he's one of the ones who might actually be in a worse mood than he was before. He'll need a lot of reassurance, not in those exact words because he's too proud to say so directly, but reassurance that you'll always love him more. And it's in your best interest to give an affirmative answer. Pregnancy with him would probably be an accident, but if you ask he might agree to it.
Will definitely be more restrictive, and potentially a bit rougher, even. He'll still feel bad for you and do things for you, but he'll cling to you even more, and more shamelessly than usual. He'll double check the locked doors, make sure there's a guard posted to grab you if you try to bolt. If you do, it's even less pretty than usual. He'd be one that isn't afraid to threaten you, really. If you like a kid so much more than him, you wouldn't want him to take the kid away and give it to someone else once it's born, would you?
If holding it, he kinda... Calms down. A lot of those doubts and negative feelings are still there, but he can't help but feel an affection too. He'll get really quiet, but serious.
Xingqiu is a bit similar to Albedo. Very matter of fact about it all, and boy does his research. He's happy about it and gladly will knock you up, but he's very particular about everything. Like, good God, you didn't know there were so many books on pregnancy. He's a worrier, but he's got a little bratty pride and won't let you know he's a nervous wreck about it all. He makes himself out to be The Expert, but he's actually pretty worried about your health. Similarly, he'll regulate you quite a bit, insist on having his family's servants do things for you, so he doesn't have to spend a second away from your side.
He likes to spend a lot of time fantasizing, though, he's also one of those that really likes to do "child planning." He's got their education planned out, he's got lists of names, he smiles as he daydreams about doing this and that. Overall he's one of the best you can have in this regard.
He's the gentlest little thing if he's holding a child. You don't have to worry about anything, really, he's soft and gentle and probably the best of all for holding.
Razor is, and y'all saw this coming, very pleased! Generally in a very good mood, smiling and nuzzling you even more than usual. To be honest, your lifestyle doesn't change much, still consisting of sitting around all day, but he insists you sleep more, and will trade any walks you used to take with even more naps.
Likes to lay his head on your belly, generally just being extremely physically affectionate, cuddly and nuzzly even more than usual, which is saying something tbh. He's the opposite of the Albedo/Xingqiu type - he'll be asking you questions because he understands the very basic concept of fuck -> pregnant -> baby, but ???? How does it work? Why are you so moody? Why are you craving weird food? Boy did not realize how much goes into it all and it's very confusing. You can use this to your advantage, though. Tell him humans can't fuck while pregnant or it's guaranteed to harm the baby or something - he'll be devastated but reluctantly accept it. You'll just have a sore throat for a while.
Please don't let this boy carry a baby without specifically teaching him how to do so. You'll have a heart attack when he tries to pick it up by the back of the neck or by the foot or something. He's happy though, at least.
Xiao is... Difficult. He'll be actually pretty easily agreeing to it, really, he has no real reason to object even if he's uneasy. He's kind of detached from it, and really his behavior doesn't change much outside of a few comments here or there and willingness to get you certain foods. He probably would find a trusted source to teach him what he needs to know on how to take care of you, he's too proud to ask you himself. It's safe to say his knowledge on it all is virtually zero, but deep down he IS concerned for your well-being, even if he doesn't show it very well.
Xiao's already one of the most restrictive yans, so like with Razor, your lifestyle doesn't change much - you go from being locked in a room all day... To be locked in a room all day, except now you're pregnant. He'll probably be more cautious to check on you more often, though.
Tbh, he's also one that might get a bit jealous, but he wouldn't know why, rather, doesn't recognize and understand his own feelings. He'll just kind of sulk a bit, even pout, it's pretty uncharacteristic and even a bit funny.
Holding a kid, you'll probably be a bit uneasy, just because he has no concept of gentleness, but he does surprisingly well if given instructions.
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j-saying · 7 months ago
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my fave tags:
#one of those countries with a small number of jews left (yemen)#has that one jew being tortured.#he's still there even now if he's still alive.
~
#fucking thank you!!!#it's not that we think palestinians are like... more likely to be violent towards us than anyone else has been#or at least i don't#its that. 'how violent everyone else has been' is an abysmally low bar
~
#please understand that the entire world is not america!!!!!!
masterpost (1/?):
@anyroads wrote:
Would love it if more people [North Americans and Europeans] thought about how their tendency to apply their own culture's racial and ethnic dynamics to other regions and cultures instead of learning about how those dynamics play out in said areas is, itself, a form of colonialism. Rewriting other cultures' history and sociopolitical landscape to fit into a narrative already familiar to you and to serve your unwillingness to learn is an act of colonialism.
~
@france-isnt-real
#it's amazing how quickly people fell into the right-wing talking point of people emigrating like .. for fun or something#as soon as the people in question were jews#people don't just leave where they and their ancestors have lived for centuries for no reason
~
@corvidcrybaby :
yeah this is where communications break down with goyim#they just do not get it and they don't WANT to get it#it's easier for them this way
@cyanocitta-cristata-bromia
#all factual here#goyische support#we don't do the everybody hates us dance for fun you know#“they tried to kill us; we survived; let's eat”#our holidays all the way back to the first Pesach
@jewishdeanwinchester
#truly. like until all goyim can accept this as a base level truth then im not going to talk about colonialism or zionism with you
@gabagaba05
#exactly.#we can acknowledge that what israel is doing is bad and work to fix it and also realize that its existence is integral to the survival of a-#-significant number of jews worldwide#no one is leaving#so we need to make a way for everyone to leave together as fully fledged respected people
@botslayer9000
#i have seen this take before and like... folks#like putting aside any blatantly bigoted statements some of the historical discourse ala israel/palestine makes me want to tear my hair out#no guys. just because arabic doesn't have the letter ''p'' doesn't mean palestine never existed (???? what even???)#no guys. jews and muslims did not peacefully coexist in the middle east with absolutely no problems before the 20th century#people love flattening the truth of any situation to one single narrative when thats almost never the case#people have such a difficult time with the idea that israel violently oppresses and murders palestinians#AND#israel provided a shelter for many jews escaping antisemitism#my conclusion is please don't make sweeping generalizing statements about history ok thanks
@witchern
#watching people (goyim) play catch-up with shit the rest of us have known our whole lives is......interesting. to say the least.#like. if y'all think the holocaust was the only time a country/government tried to Kill The Jews™ then i have some very bad news for you#antisemitism
@starlightomatic
#you can condemn the actions of a government without labelling an entire ethnic group as an Ontological Aggressor tag by @elalmadelmar. i've never seen this put so succinctly before, thank you #ontological aggressor!!#and then you go wait how can we be the ontological agressor like since eternity when weve spent so much time oppressed#and its ah; because the people who oppressed us justified their oppression by seeing us as the ontological aggressor#this isn't new: its just that now we're actually the aggressor it 'proves' to people what they 'knew' to be true all along
@blairhumphrey
#op thank you so much for repeatedly standing up for jews and standing against the erasure of jewish history#it really helps us feel less alone
@darthlordcommie
#there is no easy answer#to what to do about israel#unless you disable the antisemitic colonial systems#that led to the creation of israel as a modern political entity#in the first place#dismantling israel#will only cause new problems
@suswous
#that last paragraph is important imo#I don’t think you can truly have peace unless you understand why people are motivated to do what they do#you need to understand those fears so you can work towards a future where those fears are accounted for#and protected against#in a way that doesn’t harm others
@sangrederey
#antisemitism#the fact we still have prominent bloggers espousing idea this is somehow acceptable bc ‘Israel existing generates anti-semitism’#is shockingly bad
@lsoer
#people willfully refusing to learn Jewish history because it doesnt line up with the popular narrative going around rn is soooooo funny.....#a barrel full of laughs......
@curly-croissant
#people like to simplify this conflict and its historical context way too much#and make 1:1 comparisons that are not actually applicable#none of this excuses genocide#but historical revisionism for the sake of ideological narrative simplicity behooves absolutely no one#you have to grapple with the issues as they are not as would be expedient
@penguicorns-are-cool
#also#the history of colonization#in the americas#is very very different#from the history of colonization in the SWANA region#they are not very comparable
Oh my god, once again reminding people that Jews in the SWANA region being scared of being murdered if Israel is dismantled are not comparable to white Americans and Canadians being scared of indigenous sovereignty. The entire world, and that includes Muslim countries, has a very very long history of violently expelling and brutally murdering its Jewish communities; Israel itself has many, many refugees and descendents of refugees from other countries in Asia and Africa, countries that do not want those people back.
The comparison to white North Americans is absurd, cruel, and ahistorical; the claim that Jewish people lived in happiness and peace and safety in SWANA countries before Israel's founding is a complete fabrication and blatant victim blaming. Many of the countries surrounding Israel and throughout the SWANA region have Jewish populations that can literally be counted on one hand and that isn't because people just abandoned their homes and friends and communities to move to Israel for funsies, it's because many of them were brutally murdered or expelled from their homes, with the rest fleeing out of fear for when they would be next.
I am saying this as a Native person who is 100% in favor of indigenous sovereignty in my home country and who is fully against the treatment of Palestinians by the Israeli government. If you cannot acknowledge how antisemitism is still very much alive and an active danger to Jewish people all across the world and how many people fled to Israel specifically to escape violence, then you really cannot have any sort of meaningful conversation about Israel.
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tanyawritesstories · 3 years ago
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Pull | Tup x Reader
I just realized I hit 200 followers, thank y'all so much!! My writer's block continues but luckily I have a few fics stored up from ages ago, like this one. Enjoy and thank you for 200!! 🥰😘
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (m & f receiving), masturbation, hair pulling, cockwarming, fluff
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He was exhausted, everyone was. Tup was especially exhausted after being punched in the gut by an unarmed clanker. He just wanted to shower and sleep, and see you. He'd been planet-side for weeks, but now that the campaign was over they were allowed to head back to the Resolute.
Tup was lucky his feet were able to carry him back to your room. You weren't there so he assumed you were working the late shift again. He collapsed into a chair for a moment, resting until he felt like he had enough energy to stand in the shower for half an hour. He took off as much of his armor as he could while still sitting down before having to stand and remove the rest.
He had just entered the refresher when he heard the main door open. He poked his head out and saw you walk in, looking just as exhausted as him. You peeled off your bloody medic coat and tossed it into a bin to be washed, or discarded.
“Hey,” he said with a small smile. You turned to look at him. “Hey, Tup. When did you get back?”
“A couple hours ago,” he answered, “I was about to have a shower, do you want to join me?”
“Kriff yes,” you accepted. You stepped into the refresher with him and began shedding your layers of clothing. Tup turned on the water and removed the top of his blacks while he was waiting for the water to warm up. “Rough day?” He asked. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Was the campaign that tough or was Skywalker being particularly reckless this time?” You replied. Tup checked the water a last time and stripped out of his blacks completely. “It was a little of both,” he told you.
Tup watched as you took the last of your clothes off and stepped into the shower, pulling him in after you. “What about you, baby? You’re not hurt are you? I’m glad you weren’t in the medbay,” you said, hugging him from behind. You rested your head against his warm back, feeling the water run over your arms as it cascaded down his front.
“Just a metal fist to my stomach, I’ll be fine,” he said. You removed your arms, “sorry.” He assured you he was fine again and you started massaging his back. You ran your hands over his tan skin, gently pressing your thumbs into his shoulders. That’s when you noticed his hair was still up. It was messy, tangled, and dirty but still held into a bun. You laughed at the fact that his hair was able to hold up better than yours.
“Tup, honey, your hair is a mess. Let me wash it for you, I know you love when I play with your hair,” you said. You reached up and took his hair out letting it fall over his shoulders. You made sure to get it completely wet before working on it further.
You were right, Tup did love when you played with his hair, a little too much. His scalp was more sensitive than his brothers and it felt like heaven whenever you played with or tugged on his hair. Tup didn’t exactly have the energy for sex right now and he knew you didn’t either. He would just have to try and not let it affect him like it usually did. He tried to preoccupy himself by lathering his chest and arms with soap.
You worked your fingers through his hair, starting at his scalp and running your fingers through the length of his dark wavy hair. Most of it was fine but occasionally your fingers would get caught on a knot or a tangle and pull his hair a little bit. You apologized every time, knowing he probably didn't want you yanking his head around right now.
Tup on the other hand was having a difficult time keeping quiet. Every time your fingers got stuck and pulled, he had to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning or whimpering. He looked down a little and found himself rock hard from your ministrations. He cursed himself in his mind, you were just trying to do him a favor, why did it have to turn him on?
You got his hair untangled and squirted some shampoo into your hand before beginning to massage his head. Tup's eyes nearly rolled back into his head and he bit down on part of his hand, trying not to make any noise. He didn't want you to feel obligated to please him just because he was aroused. You were tired and you probably wanted to go to bed, not exhaust yourself even more by trying to get him off.
An idea popped into his head. Since you were behind him and had no view of his front, or the effect you were currently having on him, he might be able to fix this. If he could quietly jerk himself off without you knowing, you could both just go to bed once you were done showering.
Tup took his other hand, still covered in soap, and brought it to his throbbing length. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep quiet. He slowly stroked up and down his cock, now trying to keep his breathing normal. Your nails dragged against his scalp and his knees nearly buckled. The hand on his cock now speeding up, long drags had turned into quick tugs. It felt so damn good. The combination of your fingers working through and pulling his hair and the simulation to his cock was getting him close very fast.
Tup had been sure he was being quiet and trying to breathe steady, but what he hadn't accounted for was the growing tension in his muscles as he got closer to his release. You had noticed he was growing stiff and almost starting to shake. It confused you and you slowed your hands to a stop, letting the water rinse out the soap in his hair.
"Babe, are you ok?" You asked. He didn't reply, just let out a shaky breath. You placed your hands on his waist. "Tup," you called again, "sweetheart, what's wrong?" You nudged his sides trying to get him to turn around and face you but he didn't move. You decided to move around him since he wasn't going to, and that's when you saw his situation.
He was biting down hard on the skin between his thumb and index finger while his other hand had stopped moving on his dick and was now squeezing the base. He let out a breath and looked at you. "I'm sorry, baby. I couldn't help it," he said, looking away in embarrassment. "I thought I could....without you noticing, but.."
You cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at you. "It's alright, hun, I should've known better," you said. "Now let me take care of it for you." Tup looked worried and grabbed your hands in his before you could touch him. "No! That's exactly why I was doing it myself. You're exhausted and need rest, I don't want you to feel obligated to please me whenever I get a hard on," he rambled. "It'll go away, I'll be fine."
You raised an eyebrow at him, "Yeah, right. Tup just let me-"
"No!" He persisted, "you've spent all day taking care of my brothers, you need time to relax." You wiggled your hands out of his grasp and placed them on his cheeks again. "Yes, and now I want to spend my time taking care of my favorite boy," you said, your expression loving. Tup still looked a little embarrassed. "But you-"
"Tup, did it ever occur to you that I might enjoy sucking you off? That I do it because I enjoy it too?" You saw his eyes move around as he considered your words, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. "I like making you feel good, Tup, it makes me feel good too. Now will you let me touch you?" His shoulders sagged in defeat and he looked at the shower floor again. You reached out and took him in your hand, making him hiss. You walked him back so he was leaning his back against the shower wall. You whispered a 'please' and he slowly nodded.
With his permission, you sank to your knees and licked a teasing stripe from base to tip. You swirled your tongue around his sensitive tip before closing your lips around it. Tup couldn't hold back the moan that flew past his lips, throwing his head back against the tiled wall. You slowly took him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You held there for a moment until you heard him whimper above you and you started bobbing your head. You used your hands on what you couldn't fit in your mouth, you felt a hand come to rest at the back of your head. He didn't apply any pressure, he just needed something to ground him.
He was rapidly approaching his high, having been so close already. His moans bounced around the room, the sound music to your ears. You knew he was close and you sucked harder, beginning to gently massage his balls with your other hand. He moaned out your name, his fingers digging into your hair. Your mouth was driving him crazy and your tongue hit every spot that made him twitch in your mouth. You knew just how to work him into a whimpering mess with your velvet mouth.
You sucked hard before pulling off of him and standing up. You kept working him closer with one hand while worming the other into his hair, scraping your nails along his scalp. A high pitched moan escaped his throat and he grabbed onto your arm. "I know you're close, baby. Does that feel good?" You cooed. Tup bit his lip, whimpering and cursing under his breath. "Y-yes, feels incredible," he breathed.
Your hand sped up, jerking him furiously. "C'mon, Tup," you urged. "Be a good boy and cum for me." You finished your words with a sharp tug on his hair. Tup shouted out as he came, spilling his seed on your stomach and his. You worked him through his orgasm, letting the water wash away his release. The tension was gone from his body and he looked more relaxed. You reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Will you let me return the favor?" You sighed. "You need to learn to be a little selfish, baby," you said.
You both finished washing up and turned off the shower. You dried off and Tup let you brush his hair and dry it as best you could. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug before looking down at you affectionately.
"Can I please return the favor now?" He asked. You forwent clothes and walked into the bedroom naked. "Babe, you injured your stomach. I don't want you laying on it just for me," you told him. Tup followed you into the bedroom, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to face him. "Then how about you ride my face? I enjoy making you feel good too," he said, smirking fondly. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. "You know I love the way you taste."
You felt yourself grow wet at his words. You sighed again, he was so sweet, how could you deny him? Besides, fair is fair. "Alright, I suppose," you gave in.
Tup laid back on the bed and got comfortable before motioning you towards him. You climbed on the bed and straddled his chest. He put his arms under your thighs and around your back, urging you forward towards his mouth. "Are you sure, baby? You're already tired and I don't want to suffocate you," you whined. "I'm never too tired to love you," Tup smiled. He nudged you up more, nearly getting you into position. "C'mon, love. Lemme taste," he begged sweetly. There was something about the way he said it that made you give in. You moved over his face but couldn't make eye contact with him, or lower yourself onto his mouth.
Tup exhaled, the warm air fanning over your rapidly moistening center. He parted your folds with one hand, lightly blowing, causing you to shudder. He lifted his head and licked a quick stripe up your slit. You squeaked in surprise and pleasure, chancing a look down at him. He smiled warmly at you and slowly pulled you down. "Just enjoy it, I'm gonna make you feel good."
Your cunt finally rested on his mouth and he immediately got to work, ripping moans from you as he devoured your pussy. One look at Tup might make you think he was innocent and inexperienced, but Maker the things he could do with that mouth. You dug your fingers into his hair and he moaned, sending pleasant vibrations through you. You felt his hips buck into the air as he got worked up again.
You tried to resist grinding into his face as he ate you out. His tongue expertly playing with your clit, flicking over it and sucking on it. In between which he would stick it into you and wiggle it around, tasting every delicious inch he could reach. You kept a firm grip on his hair, pulling when he hit a specifically good spot.
“Tup,” you moaned out, grabbing the headboard. You knew without a doubt he was hard again. You took your hand off the headboard and slid it down his body, intent on pleasing him too. He was having none of it. He wrapped his lips around your bud and sucked hard, making you scream and grab the headboard again.
You could feel him chuckle into your folds and you looked down at him, seeing the innocent look in his eyes. That look combined with him sliding two fingers into you and abusing your clit with his tongue, sent you over the edge. You pulled harshly on his hair and your mouth flew open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Tup slurped up the juices that spilled from within you, gently cleaning you up as you came down from your high.
Once you got your senses back, you looked behind you. Sure enough, Tup was hard again. “Baby, now look what happened,” you pouted with a smile. He smiled back at you and helped you lay down next to him. “Actually, can I try something I’ve wanted to do for a while?” He asked. You rolled over to face him, pulling the sheets up over the both of you. "What's that, love?" You asked, clearly even more tired than before. Tup blushed and nervously played with a ringlet of his hair. "C-can I - I want, uh, I want to fall asleep inside of you," he stuttered out.
You were somewhat taken aback, but you were glad he told you, it showed he was getting comfortable sharing his sexual wants and fantasies with you. You smiled groggily at him. "That sounds like heaven," you replied.
You rolled to face away from him, looking over your shoulder with an enticing yet exhausted expression. Tup scooted closer to you so his front was pressed tight to your back. He helped you lift your leg up and you felt his cock slip in between your thighs. You let him hold your leg while you lined him up, pushing the head of his cock inside. Tup let out a shaky breath and slowly eased himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. He lowered your leg back down and groaned deeply at how tight you got. You hummed contently at the feeling of him nestled snug and deep within you. Tup wrapped an arm around your middle to keep you close. You felt like paradise around him, your walls silky and warm. It was oddly comforting, a feeling of closeness and possession that went beyond the act of passion itself.
"Goodnight, my love," you whispered, placing your arm on top of his. He placed a kiss to your shoulder blade, "Goodnight, cyare. Sleep well."
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greenlikethesea · 2 years ago
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2 3 9 10 🧡💛
MY SWEET BLORBISSIMO!!!! okay y'all i gotta say -- my baby right here has written some incredible ST fic outside of fair ithilien and you NEED to check it out now. she is a big brained genius!!!! same screen name on ao3!!! GO GO GO!!!!!
2. What fanfic do you wish you got more response on?
although i've answered this, i'm going to toot my own horn and say that i want more people to read old wives' tales, because i love my baby firecracker daughter erica, and i love writing the tender emotions of difficult girls.
3. another idea that i've been kicking around with @sparklyslug that i want to tackle with her (once we finish our other WIPs) is the dissolution and mending of will and mike's friendship -- the blow-up that's impending in phrase that fits and the aftermath of that. and also, how eleven is instrumental in mending their relationship, mainly because she refuses to let what's going on change how she feels for either of them.
9. What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?
alright, you're all getting a little taste of the jargyle, aka me writing about how fucking beautiful he is:
As Irma makes her way up the stairs, Argyle is coming down, in old plaid boxers and a white Hanes T-shirt. Muted colors that make his skin golden, make him inviting, knowable. Jonathan turns away so he’s not privy to their little exchange on the landing, choosing instead to pick up the mug and take a sip. It’s perfect. He lets himself enjoy his coffee, focusing a soft gaze on his monstrosity on the cake stand. When Argyle wraps his arms around him from behind, kiss after kiss on his neck, he’s not scared. He feels warm all over instead, from the inside out. He leans backward, gently placing the perfect nightcap on the table, and exposes his neck so Argyle can reach more skin.
10. What are your top five fics by kudos or by reads?
okay, in order:
if you want him, come and claim him three weddings and a funeral looking for something dumb to do old wives' tales oh yeah? make me.
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remakethestars · 4 years ago
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RAVENCLAW 💙🦅🤎
Headcanons.
❝Even in the blackness, light can be found. My enemy can be outsmarted.❞
— Alex Hirsch, Journal 3
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This is my house, y'all; buckle up!
Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, & Slytherin. Headcanon masterlist.
The door'll let you in for witty responses.
We prop it open during exam season, when everyone's coming back from dinner, on party nights, & when no one can solve the riddle.
Questions become more difficult to answer after curfew.
Everyone waits outside & pretends not to know first night until the first-years figure it out.
Today's riddle & answer posted on the back of the door every morning; check before you leave just in case.
Sometimes you find the prefects debating over what the answer is; no one leaves the common room until someone's figured it out, so sometimes, the entirety of Ravenclaw is late to breakfast.
Again, if we absolutely can’t, we’ll prop it open.
If the door’s propped open and you remove the prop, we’ll use the guillotine on you.
Everyone has at least one hill to die on.
There's a podium by the fireplace with a record book on it of all the books in Ravenclaw's library that you can ask for help finding books from (pages flip in their own). 
If you’re in a reading slump, describe what you're looking for; we've probably got it!
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If you don't like writing & highlighting in the books, it'll disappear while you have it, but everyone's free to mark in them. 
So good at reading their own messy notes and the notes their friends wrote they can read a doctor's handwriting.
And there are notes everywhere. As organized as some Raveclaws wish they could be, you can't make notebooks & journals as organized as Google Doc & Word documents. Unless, ya know … someone made a spell for that — hold on, I gotta write that down!
Professors find notes — ideas for spells & potions — on the back of homework & tests. More knowledgeable teachers will add their ideas or advice before handing it back.
Everyone leaves a copy of their favorite book with annotations before they leave seventh year. 
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There's a coffee/tea cart in the common room. 
Hallways to the dorms are covered in graffiti from students long passed.
Dorms branch off based on your year. 
Girls can walk into the boy's dorms & vice versa. 
All rooms are extended for more space.
Beds are built into the wall like window seats & have bookshelves where the head and footboards should be. 
Dark blue curtains can be drawn shut if you're feeling introverted. 
Trunks go under the bed, so they're kinda high off the ground.
Cast an extension charm if you’re claustrophobic.
At the end of every year, everyone congregates in the common room, someone casts glisseo on the stairs to Ravenclaw tower, & everyone slides their trunks down (it's called "the trunk shoving").
No one gives a single sh¡t about house points.
Ravenclaw’s are always blowing something up & losing points.
Dramatic about stubbing their toe, but super casual about ending up in the hospital wing because they "wanted to test a hypothesis."
If you have a question or don't understand something, ask it loudly in the common room; someone will undoubtedly answer or direct you to another who can.
Just don't use bad grammar, or sixteen people will correct you in unison. 😅
Learn (a) new language(s) in the common room 20:00–21:00 Mon.–Fri.
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Tutoring sessions are in the common room at 21:00–22:00 Mon.–Fri. Or ask for private lessons to work around your schedule.
If a particular teacher's sh¡t, we host a class in the common room after dinner.
Also, there're just classes for random stuff: art, budgeting, codes & code-breaking, cooking, dancing, darning, fencing, ice skating (in the winter months), knot tying, lock picking, makeup, Morse code, muggle martial arts, sewing…
First years are all offered a class on note taking.
A lot of us do our homework on Friday night so we don't have to worry about it all weekend, so there're no party activities tonight, but you can play a muggle board game if you want.
Karaoke on Saturday nights.
Dungeons & Dragons on Sunday nights.
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D&D’s swapped out for a play once a month; screw the theater ban! (For an explanation of Hogwarts’s theater ban, see Albus Dumbledore’s notes on “The Fountain of Fair Fortune” in The Tales of Beedle the Bard.)
Morning yoga in the common room — feel free to join; we'll teach you some poses.
Ask around; whatever you're looking for — info, candy, contraband — someone probably hands it out, sells it, can get it for you, and/or can tell you where to find it.
Pass around a spell that allows them to clean themselves. Who has time for showering?
And a potion that gives them the same feeling & energy as if they slept. Who has time for sleeping?
Yes, we're building a guillotine in the common room.
Please don't utilize it in the decapitation of any living person or thing (unless it's the Snape or Umbridge)!
Our next project is a carousel. With working lights & everything.
Yes, we're building a house of cards in the common room; please don't blow on it.
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Be quiet until noon on the weekends or get hexed.
Thank Merlin they teach sign language in the common room every year & everyone knows enough to get by.
Parties are highly regulated.
People volunteer to walk people back to their dorms & put up protection charms so you don't get assaulted. Those people are vetted with Veritaserum first to confirm the authenticity of their intentions.
People often get into academic debates, which can get a bit loud; just silencio them & move on.
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The entrances to the dorms are hidden behind moving bookshelves.
The Ravenclaw copy of Hogwarts: A History will tell you more than you realized you needed to know; there're enough notes in the margins to make a second book, including how to enter the kitchens, how to sneak out if the castle, how to find the Room of Requirement…
They've located more secret passages & rooms in Hogwarts using spells they created than the Marauders were aware of.
First-years are told how to put extension charms on their backpacks so they're not heavy — that's a crap-ton of stairs.
There's an incredibly thick book by a armchair near the fireplace that's full of testaments of Ravenclaw's alumni. "What's one thing you wish you'd known when you started Hogwarts?" First-years are encouraged to flip through it.
And taught a low-concentration spell for levitating books while laying down so your arms don't get tired (flick wand to turn page).
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Common room's extended to fit all kinds of activities (and the bookshelves).
Some third-years built an aquaponic system on top of one of the window seats; take a cucumber, if you want, or stop to look at the fish.
Again, explosions are not uncommon. (Please don’t drop any explosives in the fish tank. As water isn’t as compressible as air, this will kill the fish.)
Everyone just kinda glances over to make sure you’re okay before going back to what they were doing.
There's always a record playing.
They host a hike through the Forbidden Forest once a week, because what even are rules?
If you hear an intelligent conversation taking place, feel free to sit down & listen or jump in!
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The wind whistles against the windows all year round, but they've been charmed to keep water out.
Played The Floor is Lava before it was a meme.
There's a two-way mirror on the wall above the fireplace. There's a muggle television on the other side. No one's sure whose T.V. it is, but a lady comes in in the mornings in hair curlers & watches the news.
She puts in V.H.S. tapes of Disney movies at the start of term. Hypothesis says it's for the first years & this person's a half-blood or a muggle-born.
Sometimes, people work together to solve the Friday crossword in The Daily Prophet. It's the hardest all week.
Look at each other like they're the camera in The Office when someone says something stupid.
Oh, boy, if someone's found a really good mystery book… That sh¡t’s getting magically copied & passed around. We discuss theories at meals, pass notes in class, & set up a murder board in the common room.
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Actually, Ravenclaw house has solved a number of murders in its free time.
Visit my Ravenclaw YouTube playlist & Pinterest board.
DISCLAIMER ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.
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thatbanditqueen · 1 year ago
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Well, I am going to admit that I am a lousy, yella-bellied fan girl because I had some ideas as to how I would answer this, but wanted to see what you all said and now i have changed my mind about 50 times with permutations of all my favorite ones changing based on mood and reading your responses. I'll confess my first choice was to fuck Tulsa because he is in amazing shape, and goofy fun, I want him to make some of those silly faces as we slap skins. I'm a fan of talking and making jokes while figuring out how our bodies fit together, because sex is absurd and hilarious. I was all set to marry Dr. John Carpenter and run a clean little women's health center in Harlem. And I was ready to kill Charlie Rogers, he's angry and indecisive and difficult and mean and causes traffic accidents pissing people off trying to pick up their daughters riding his motorcycle. He's one of my least favorite characters. I love Vince and Jodie and Ross and Greg and Walter but you know, this was an impossible choice.
That said, here is my answers for where I am tonight....
Fuck: Deke Rivers
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My favorite movie is probably Loving You because I can still hear the Mephiss in that home town local talented country boy's voice. If I was younger, I would marry him. But I am an old lady, with a soft spot for this boy with a troubled past who fights without killing 'em, and appreciates the guidance of an older woman. Oh Deke, I'm lonely too let's keep each other company, NSA, and I'll wish you well when you find a good little girl to marry.
Marry: Jess Wade
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Y'all just wanna use him and loose him. But I'm ready to move off the grid and ride into the sunset with this rugged cowboy with a heart of gold. The way he walks in those corduroys, his scruffy beard and all that dirt, I'm here with a tub full of hot water to wash you off and bring you into my bed every night. I'm too old to train babe E, I want a ready made man, and we'll never spoil our marriage talking about our sordid lives before we met. I also kind of like that he doesn't sing.
Kill: Chad Gates
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I am absolutely ripping off @alienelvisobsession on this one, she proposed killing Tulsa because that was the first campy silly rom com musical that came to be the template for Elvis movies in the 1960s. I love all the 1960s rom coms on principle because I think there is something I could enjoy in every Elvis movie. Movie studios are not factories, and some are better than others because they were made by more talented people. But what kills me is how Elvis felt creatively throttled by the "Elvis Movie Formula," and while it may have started with Tulsa, it was perfected and cemented with Chad. Hal Wallis, Abe Lastfogel and the Colonel had a meeting in Hawaii and decided that Blue Hawaii would be the formula for Presley pictures going forward. Tulsa could have been a one off experiment, or a genre that Elvis dabbled in, but BH and Chad sowed it up for Elvis. Chad is also a bit of a douche in my book. I know you guys love him, and I appreciate E in Hawaii in those tidy whities. But Chad kisses that stewardess knowing Maile is waiting for him, he sings "I Was Always Almost True to You," which is a song I hate it. And one of my favorites, he best song in this movie, you know that one, was thrown away in a scene that had Elvis sing it to a wicker chair. Oh, and Angela Lansbury's hammy absurd performance makes me detest one of my favorite actresses. So yes, Chad Gates MUST DIE.
Ok, this is my answer.... for now. I'll probably change it in the morning.
Fuck, Marry, Kill Elvis Film Characters
Hey, you!
Workday doldrums got you down? Feel like your job is sucking your very soul from you and everyone is off having summer fun while you toil away doing utter work bullshit? You want to leave, but your shoes feel water logged and your head feels like it's full of concrete? Well, this game is for you to cheer you up. Who would you marry fuck and kill from E's fictional film characters?
I am totally stealing this, I saw this game on my feed a few weeks ago and stupid work was dragging me down like it is this week.... I forgot who was playing it but in typical Norah fashion I'll just pretend it was my idea.
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Tagging a few people to get us started but anyone can and should play!
@whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love@powerofelvis @generoustreemystic @loving-elvis @doll-elvis @richardslady121 @dkayfixates @moonchild-daniella @everythingelvispresley @kingdomforapony @freudianslumber @c-rosenn @deke-rivers-1957 @avengen @prompted-wordsmith and @arianatheangel-girl because I know she loves talking E characters as much as I do!
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deaththesyd · 3 years ago
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Safe Return
Y'all, I am back with another late submission for @kisameweek-2021
I went hiking and camping earlier this week, and then work got in the way, and to top it off my brain decided that it was gonna be difficult and refused to write what I had first imagined, so now we have this. Hopefully, it still fits the prompt loosely enough! Also! Warning: It gets a little suggestive, nothing explicit tho!
Day5 Coming Home
Summary:
“Dude, gross! Shower first!” She groaned, pushing away from him. Of course, he ignored her and craned his neck down to nuzzle his face against hers, making her complain even louder as she could feel his rough stubble grating against her skin. He only released her once Itachi joined them and shamed them for their disruptive behaviour with his perfected judgemental stare.
In comparison to the energetic townspeople bustling around them, Kisame and Itachi felt dead on their feet. They had traveled far, tracking down intel and following dead lead after dead lead for months in between missions, and this last tip was as worthless as the others. The hidden villages kept their secrets locked up tight, and tracking down Jinchuriki was proving to be a challenging task. Both physically exhausted and frustrated with their lack of luck, they forced themselves towards the inn that they would be staying in for the night. On top of all the false leads, bandits, and enemy ninja, Kisame had another persistent worry.
Ignoring the desk clerks' greeting, leaving Itachi to deal with them, he lumbered up the stairs, feeling his cloak pockets for the room key. Locating the correct room took only a second, but his large fingers fumbled with the tiny key as he pressed it into the keyhole, making him mutter under his breath. Whether she was alerted by the noise of the key missing its mark one too many times, or if it was his voice, he didn’t know, but the door unlocked and swung open, ending his agitated struggle and allowing him to finally know that she was safe. His strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up easily into a tight hug right there in the hallway. Her protests were immediate.
“Dude, gross! Shower first!” She groaned, pushing away from him. Of course, he ignored her and craned his neck down to nuzzle his face against hers, making her complain even louder as she could feel his rough stubble grating against her skin. He only released her once Itachi joined them and shamed them for their disruptive behaviour with his perfected judgemental stare. Once they had shut the door behind them, he was tugging her close again, laughing as she put on an act of pinching her nose as she struggled against his affection. Itachi sighed as he forced his way past them, making his way to the bed that was still neatly made from when he and Kisame had left over a week ago.
Watching his young partner quietly place his equipment down next to his bed, Kisame knew to give him some quiet. It was difficult for Itachi to sleep even in the perfect conditions, having the two loudly playing wasn’t going to make it any easier for him to catch up on some greatly needed sleep.
“Why don’t you join me in the shower if I stink so much?” He teased lowly in her ear, causing her to stiffen as the tickle of his breath sent shivers up her spine, and she appeared to consider his offer for a moment, no doubt taking Itachi’s tired presence into account. It didn’t take her long to answer, refusing to give up her disgusted act.
“Only if it’ll get your sweaty ass clean faster,” She muttered, but even her insulting words held no real bite as she pulled him towards the small bathroom. Sparing Itachi a last glance, he could see him settling into his bed, trying to ignore the loud flirting, yet to only a man as close to Itachi as Kisame could tell, the usual poker face was the slightest quirk to his lips. The one and only sign the Uchiha ever let slip that he truly wasn’t bothered by their shenanigans. Of course, he could never let his snooty, superior attitude slip entirely. He had a reputation to uphold.
The door shut behind them, giving them some privacy, and a buffer for the noise they made. Unzipping his cloak and shrugging hit off, he looked down at her, questionable when she made no move to undress with him. “Need some help there, Guppy?” He said, reaching to do just that, but she dodged him and pressed back against the vanity in the cramped space. Giggling at the confused expression her avoidance caused.
“As much as I’ve missed you,” she spoke sweetly, “I know that if I let you have your way, poor Itachi won’t be getting any rest.” She was right, the two of them, no matter the scenario, always managed to be loud and disruptive, and if they allowed themselves to indulge as they usually would, the thin walls and flimsy door would act as a poor barrier for the third occupant of their shared room. Kisame still moved closer, caging her against the counter ledge, leaning down for just a taste of what he had missed on his investigation. Again she pushed away, leaning further from him while she used one hand to press firmly against his chest. The cringe on her face and scrunched nose made him chuckle lightly as he backed away, returning to shedding his clothes. He really must stink.
Even with her disgust with his less than clean state, her eyes roamed his exposed flesh, admiring the toned muscles that made up the entirety of his form. His looks had always bothered him, but even he knew his life of brutal fighting had sculpted him into something muscle-heads across dimensions would be jealous of. Shark-like features be damned, he had a body that made the woman he wanted oggle him like a piece of meat, and it was hard to care about the face he saw in the mirror when in her eyes he saw reflected back at him only admiration and lust.
Stepping into the tiny shower, he pulled the curtain closed and turned on the water, gritting his teeth through the ice-cold temperature before it ran warm. He was taller than the showerhead, and the cheap place had supplied one that was non-adjustable much to his frustration. Looking over the rod holding the plastic curtain, he could see the woman barely holding in her laughter at his predicament. He took it back, he hated being himself. Grumbling to himself he began washing himself as best as he could, cursing his height and the rest of the world for catering to those of average size. “Glad I didn’t join you after all?” She said as she sat herself on the floor facing the shower.
Admittedly, yes, he thought. Pushing down his built-up need from the length of the fruitless mission, he was very glad that she hadn’t. The occupancy limit was pushed with even just him, never mind the two of them. Of course, she had probably known that, having spent the time the two ninjas were away sheltered in the cheap unit. Still, he argued, lacking any real persuasion, “We could make it work, I am pretty used to being in tight places,” he said with a wink. Caught by surprise, she rushed to cover her mouth after she gasped loudly, looking over her shoulder at the door guiltily.
Ducking under the showerhead to rinse the crappy, complimentary shampoo from his hair, he nearly missed the stern glare she shot him. Water fell into his mouth as he laughed and he sputtered and coughed under the stream, somehow managing to get the suds in his eyes, making his pain worse. He swore he heard a mumbled “Karma” come from behind the curtain, but when his head cleared the shower rod, his bleary eyes couldn’t quite make out the look on her face. Damn this cheap inn and their painful shampoos.
A final rinse later and he emerged from the tiny torture chamber, rolling his eyes playfully when he noticed her watching him practically entranced, following the residual droplets that ran down his body. Snapping back into focus when he secured a towel around his waist, she flushed in embarrassment. Something he hadn’t seen her do in a long time. Chuckling quietly, he bent down to pick up his cloak, locating the scroll he used to pack away his things, and expertly summoned his travel bag. From where she still sat on the hard tile, she watched as he pulled out his razor, and had to shuffle out of his way for him to get to work. Unusually quiet, she observed as he made short work of the unruly stubble that had managed to grow in between his last shave. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, used to her constant chatter, and then going so long without it, he felt unsettled when she stayed silent. Silence with her meant she was scheming.
“I kinda wonder what you would look like with a proper beard,” she answered musingly.
Looking down at her, he raised a brow, “Thought you hated the feeling of a beard,” he tested. Kisame had never really tried growing out his facial hair, always deciding that keeping a clean face was easier. Secretly he had hoped being well-groomed would keep others' opinions of him higher as well. Sometime around their first few makeout sessions, she had told him how much she appreciated the lack of stubble he allowed. That had settled his decision firmly then, so why was she thinking of that now?
She hummed quietly in thought, “I do, but the look of a beard isn’t always bad.” Her expression wasn’t the normal barely restrained smirk she normally wore when she was teasing him, instead, she appeared thoughtful.
“If you wanted me to grow a beard you could have mentioned it before I shaved,” he pointed out, rinsing the blade and packing it away with the rest of his things.
She giggled and leaned against his bare leg, playfully nuzzling him, “Awe, you were willing to grow a beard for me?”
How that made him flustered, he had no idea, but he felt his face flush as he carefully shook her off. In an attempt to hide his blush, he dug around in his bag for clean clothes. “I’ve never really tried before, sharks have rough enough skin as is,” he joked.
She snorted at that, he wasn’t looking at her but the smirk on her face was audible in her tone. “With you, rough isn’t something I mind,” she replied, no doubt watching him as he dropped his towel and started to dress. Easily distracted by his nakedness, she changed topics. “Such a shame you need to wear clothes,” she pouted as he slipped on a pair of pants. The way she so casually said such things never failed to catch him off guard. Turning to face her he was met with hungry eyes that took in every flexing muscle still visible before they settled on the darkened expression he wore.
“Someone really needs to give that dirty mind of yours a good cleansing,” he warned, feeling the effects of her forwardness already. Something he should have known was that anything other than obvious refusal or a joke meant to brush her off would only encourage her more.
“You can go ahead and try,” she challenged, gazing up at him through her lashes. Her attempt to lure him in was almost working, yet the fact that Itachi was most likely privy to their noise kept him from giving in.
Shaking his head, he reached for his shirt, “Weren’t we just talking about me growing a beard?” He recalled, feeling a bit bad at the quick look of dejection he caused before she latched onto the topic again.
“A bearded shark would be an interesting sight,” she said, building up her case.
An easy grin spread across his face as the light-hearted conversation started once again.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Itachi turned to lie on his side, thankful that he wouldn’t have to listen to them become intimate. As much as he appreciated their attempt at giving him some quiet, he was sure that even if they had been situated on separate ends of the building they would have made enough noise to keep him awake. Whether that be with their constant laughing banter or ‘other noises’ it didn’t seem to matter. Listening to Kisame’s low chuckles and her excited list of reasons for his partner to grow a beard was comforting though. Even if his tired eyes weren't enough to chain him to sleep. A week of throwing their investigation off course was a tiring task when Kisame was so efficient at his job, but even when his head pounded from a sleep-deprived headache, he could handle it knowing that he had again succeeded in delaying his bosses plans.
Listening to his friend's muffled chatter he decided the danger of overhearing something he’d regret was over and allowed himself to settle once again. For now, he was content to rest his eyes. It may not be everything he wanted, there was much more he would have to do before his end, but for now, he felt as though he was safely at home.
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chemist-ana · 3 years ago
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Chapter 13 The Morning After— Sams POV
Book: The Nanny Affair
Characters: Sam, Ana Schuyler (MC), Vivan and Mason Dalton
Pairing: Sam Dalton (male) x Ana Schuyler (MC)
Rating: 18+
Content Warning: NSFW, Sexual Language, Adult Language, Sexual Situations
A/N I know there are a lot of people that do not like Sam Dalton- that being said, this chapter was especially difficult for me to write, because I am trying to give him a redeeming character arc. As a person that is involved with the family business, I can understand to a degree where he is coming from with the guilt and what he chooses some of the decisions he does. BUT please do not forgot that MC is culpable and definitely at fault as well. There are definitely some cringe worthy things in this chapter- but I hope y'all love it! Also a super big thank you for @txemrn for talking me through some of these ideas and for being the queen of angst. Love you p.
Summary: In the cold light of day, will you and Ana be able to face the consequences of your actions?
Word Count: 5800
Tag List:  @txemrn @secretaryunpaid @lifeaskim @aussieez @pixie88 @thefrenchiemama @sfb123 @mainstreetreader @shewillreadyou @khoicesbyk @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations @somersetmummy @melalicious8383 @chrissythadon @shannonwrote @jerzwriter
The sound of my footsteps, my labored breathing, and the early morning traffic are the only sounds in my ears, as I push my legs faster through Central Park. I reach up and wipe at the sweat that is beading on my brow, silently cursing the wretched New York, humid, summer mornings.
I usually run with music blasting in my ears… but I decided this morning to torture myself, and I can’t decide whether its working. The sounds of Ana’s moans echo through my mind, as steady as my heart beats. I see a gorgeous blonde running towards me and I give her a crooked smile as our eyes connect. She just about trips on the pavement before composing herself mid stride and continues past me, avoiding my gaze.
Well that didn’t help.
I push myself harder in the last few hundred yards of my run, and when my building finally comes into view, I slow down to a walk, reaching my arms up to catch my breath.
“Good morning, Mr. Dalton.” The morning doorman greets as he opens the door to the lobby for me.
“Thanks, Felix.” I nod as I breeze past him, waving my keycard at the scanner to my penthouse elevator.
When the door dings open, I hold my breath as I walk quietly through the still living room, everyone is still sleeping. I stop outside of Ana’s door. Resting my hands on her door frame and closing my eyes. I take a deep breath, what the fuck happened last night… I walk into my master bathroom, turning the shower water on cold.
My brain delves into the guilt that is sitting heavy on my shoulders. The guilt that I have for the years I spent fucking off in college instead of setting myself up for my future. The guilt I have for losing Eva. The guilt I have for hiring Ana… And now to add more… the guilt that I have for fucking her last night. What the fuck were you thinking? I tilt my head up into the cold water, letting the shock send a shudder down my spine.
My life has revolved around this family business… watching the countless hours my father has spent building it from nothing into this global conglomerate. The knowledge that one day, this would all be mine. The endless chiding from my father to fit into his mold of what the perfect CEO would be. Married with children. I have truly never been in control of my life… even when I married Eva. I thought she was the one… but now that I have Ana… stop it you fool, you don’t have Ana… she deserves better than your spineless tricks. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am i doing? I reach up and rest my hands on the shower wall, letting my head lull forward.
What the fuck happens next?
***
“Good morning.” I greet the twins and Ana as I round the corner into the kitchen.
“Morning, dad.” The boys look at me with defeated looks, I’m guessing it has something to do with the beige mush in their bowls.
I cast a quick glance at Ana as a blush creeps up her neck.
“Ana? Are you alright?”
She shakes her head slightly before looking at me.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about last night.” Her eyes linger on mine.
The all too clear memory of her moans and the feel of her body come flooding back into my mind again, but I quickly shove them away as I stare back at her.
“Yeah! Carter said you went to that fancy party thing with Dad!” My eyes flick to Mason as he sets his spoon down.
“Did you pull any pranks?” Mickey asks with a smile.
“Not this time. Maybe we just needed someone to show us how it’s done.” I look between them.
“I’d rather stay home and eat pizza, thanks!” Mickey’s eyes grow wide as he takes another bite of his mush, god that doesn’t look good at all.
I grab a cup of coffee and turn to walk towards my office.
“Can we talk later?” Ana whispers as she leans in close to me.
My stomach drops and I feel my body stiffen. I don’t spare her a glance before answering. “… Yes. Later.”
Without another word I head to my home office, leaving a stunned Ana behind. I can feel her gaze as I round the corner and close the door quietly behind me.
I don't know what to say to you yet, Ana…
I sit down in my Wegner chair, switching the Tiffany Lamp on. I rub my hands down my face with a sigh. The silence is broken by the ringing of my cell phone, I glance down and my fathers name is flashing on the screen.
“Hey, dad.” I set my phone on my desk and turned it on speaker.
“Sam, things in Italy are not clearing up. I need you there to fix this mess.”
I let out a sharp exhale through my teeth and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“This is pretty short notice.”
“After what happened in Milan, LEMA is having some hesitations as to our abilities to run a company that handles sensitive medical information. I don't think I need to tell you how important this deal is. We need to take care of this ourselves, unless you want me to send Robin?” I can hear the challenge in his voice as my chest constricts.
“How long do you think I will be there?” I ask, avoiding his antagonizing, my mind flashing to the boys… and then to Ana..
“Does it matter, Sam? As long as it takes. I already spoke with Sofia, she is going to go with you. I have some briefs and copies of all the contracts being sent to your office now. You will need to read them all to get caught up. I also scheduled you the jet for tomorrow morning.”
My head falls back as I close my eyes.
“Sam?”
“Yeah, yeah, dad, I heard you. I will be there soon.”
“I’ll be in your office at noon.” He ends the call.
I glance down at my watch, it's already 11.  FUCK.
I look at my office door, time to do whatever needs to be done.
I walk quietly through the penthouse, running over the words in my head. I hear the twins in their room, and I decide to start with them. When I see Ana putting their laundry away, my breath gets caught in my throat. At least you only have to say this once…
“I’m about to go into the office, but I wanted to talk to you first.” I say as I walk into their room.
I watch out of the corner of my eye as Ana turns towards me. I move further into the twins room and take a seat on the edge of the lower bunk bed. Mason and Mickey stand in front of me.
“What’s wrong, Dad? You look sad…” Mason’s face drops when he notices my crestfallen expression.
“I’m not… sad. I just know you’re not going to like what I have to say.” I take a deep breath and clear my throat.
“Then you gotta just rip it off. Like a Band-Aid.” Mickey smiles.
“Right, like a Band-Aid.” I keep my eyes fixed on the twins but I can feel the heat from Ana’s gaze. “I have to go to Italy for a business trip… as soon as possible.”
A silence settles over the room as the twins look between themselves..
“What? You’re fleeing the country, just like that?” Ana breaks the palpable silence.
“I wouldn’t call it ‘fleeing’. Dalton Enterprises has been in negotiations for months, and after the Milan breach… well my dad just doesn’t trust anyone else to handle it.”
“What about us?” Mason murmurs sadly.
“Aunt Sofia isn’t staying here, is she?” Mickey's eyes are wide.
“No, she’ll be in Naples with me. But don’t worry, you won’t be alone. You’ll have Ana.” I turn to  face Ana and her gaze is focused on the twins, but I can see the hurt in her emerald eyes.
“Let’s not overreact here. It’s just a flight and some meetings, right? I bet your dad will be back before you know it.” A smile trains on the corners on her lips as she tries to brighten the mood.
I wish that was all…
“Actually… depending on the negotiations, I could be gone a couple months.”
“A couple months?” Mickey shouts.
“But… that’s the rest of summer.”  I look at Mason and see only one thing: disappointment.
“Seriously, Sam? That’s so long! For the boys I mean.” Her eyes fall to the floor.
“My parents were often overseas for months at a time when I was younger. They’ll survive.” I hate the words as they leave my lips.
“But don't you want them to do more than just survive?” She looks up at me in concern.
“I’m trying to not let emotions cloud my judgement here. I don't have a choice in the matter.” I clench my jaw.
“You always have a choice, Sam.” Her eyes hold mine.
I take a deep breath turning my attention back to the twins.
“Can we at least come visit you while you’re gone?” Mason is picking at a piece of string that is fraying from his blanket.
“Of course, buddy. I’m sure we can work something out. In the meantime, why doesn’t Ana take you two out for the day?” I rest my hands on the twins' shoulders. “I’ve got to prepare for my trip, but we’ll have a special dinner tonight before I go. Promise.” I wrap my arms around them and bring them tight to my sides. I wish I didn't have to leave you… someday you will understand. I hope.
I walk out of the twins room, avoiding the heat from Ana’s gaze as she watches me.
***
The words all run together as I sit at my desk and try to read the briefs from Italy. My office door opens and my eyes meet my fathers’s as he strolls in and sits in the leather chair in front of me.
“Did you read all of those?” He asks gruffly, his eyes flicking down to the papers that are strewn across my desk.
I collect all of them into a stack as I avoid his gaze. “I got the jist.”
A silence settles between us and I can feel his eyes trained on me. When I finally raise my gaze, he narrows his eyes and his mouth sets in a thin line. “What’s going on with you, Sam?”
“Nothing, Dad, I’m just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Don’t insult me, I know you better than that. You are distracted, you have been since your mother and I got back from Italy. Have you been drinking too much again?”
I raise my brow at him incredulously. “Dad.”
“Is it that pretty nanny of yours?” He says mockingly.
My eyes fall to the stack of papers.
“Oh, son. Really?”
“No, dad, it-it’s not her.” Boy that wasn't very convincing.
“Yes it is. I know that look.” A long silence stretches and I avoid his gaze. “Remember Pam?”
I meet his eyes.  “Aunt Pam, your old secretary?”
He purses his lips and nods. He takes a deep breath, clearly warring with what he wants to say next. “It only lasted a few months, and your mother knows nothing about this.”
“Wait, you had an affair?”
“It’s not something I am proud of. But let me tell you something. Women like her, and your nanny…” He waves his hand dismissively. “Are only good for one thing, son.” He leans forward in his chair and arches his brow. “And it’s not making you the man that you need to be to run this company.” He leans back, steepling his fingers on his knees. “Now, a woman like Sofia, that is who is going to take you far in life, and bring you where you need to be.”
I’m fucking speechless. I can’t defend my honor, or Ana’s.  Because what if he’s right?
***
My phone dings with a text, Ana.
Ana: Heading back, ETA 20 min
Ana: You need us to pick anything up on our way?
Ana: Or do you have the special dinner all planned out?
Fuck. I’m not getting out of here for at least another hour.
Sam: About that…
Ana: Why am I not surprised? This is becoming your MO.
I clench my jaw.
Sam: What’s that supposed to mean?
Ana: You’re a smart man. Figure it out.
I whisper a quiet fuck and I see Robin’s head snap up.
“Trouble at home?” He asks, as a cocky smile spreads across his face.
I ignore him.
Sam: Ana…
Ana: I’ll take care of dinner for the boys sake. But you’d better come up with an AMAZING apology dessert for them.
Sam: I am sorry to bail on this
Sam: I will bring something home for dessert.
Sam: Okay?
She doesn't respond, and I pinch my eyes closed in frustration.
I turn back to the final pages of the contract with LEMA before sighing and throwing it to the table.
“Find anything?” Robin asks.
“No. And I need to go home. I need to spend what little time I have left in the city with the boys.”
“Go, I will make sure all of this makes it onto the jet tomorrow morning.” Robin leans back in his chair. “You know dad wants me with you tomorrow, right?”
I stop in my tracks and slowly turn to him. “No. I was not aware of that.”
He shrugs his shoulders and crosses his leg over his knee. “Now you do.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, and decide against saying anything else. Can just one thing go my way today? I grab my keys and phone, stuffing them into my pocket. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See ya.” He waves as I walk out of the door.
***
I walk into the foyer with my suitcase, setting it next to the elevator doors just as they ding open and Ana, Mason, and Mickey step out.
“Welcome back. Did you three have fun at the museum?” My eyes are locked on Ana, sadness filling her emerald eyes. My chest constricts as my thoughts are haunted by my fathers confession.
“The museum was alright but dinner was even better! We stopped at a food truck festival on the way home.” Mickey chimes.
“I tried a poke bowl!” Mason is vibrating with excitement.
“Really? Did you like it?” I ask him, surprised.
“It was amazing!” Mason cheered as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
“And we got something for you!” Mickey gestures to the bag in Ana’s hands.
“That was thoughtful of you.” I look at Ana as she hands me the bag, not meeting my gaze.
“It was their idea.” She murmurs looking down at the boys.
I look inside of the paper bag, Kung Pao… god it's my favorite. “I love Kung Pao. How did you know?”
“Just a lucky guess.” Her tone is even and neutral. Distant.
“Right.” I take a breath, clearing my throat and turning back to the boys.
“Why don’t you two wash your hands, then head into the kitchen for your special dessert?” The boy's eyes widened.
“On it!” They race toward the bathroom, leaving Ana and I alone in the hallway. Still avoiding my eyes, she breezes past me into the kitchen. I follow her slowly, watching the soft sway of her hips.
“Ana.” She stops in her tracks and I see her shoulders tense.
“Yes?” She slowly turns towards me.
“Thank you for dinner, for both me and the boys. I shouldn’t have backed out of my promise to have a special meal with them.” My apology comes out even and measured as I watch her carefully.
“No, you shouldn’t have.” She says matter of factly, her eyes finally rising to mine. She sighs softly. “And you’re welcome.”
“It really looks delicious.” I set the container on the counter, taking a big bite with a fork. My eyes are trained on hers and I can see her face soften.
“You’ve got a little…” She grabs a napkin, stepping up slowly and reaching up to wipe at my lip.
The smell of jasmine and Ana fill my senses as our breath mixes in the air between us.
“Oh…” I whisper in surprise at the intimate gesture.
“... All better.” She smiles softly up at me, her emerald eyes piercing. An electric charge lingering in the space between us.
The moment is broken when we hear the boys running towards us in the kitchen. She takes a step back, turning away from me.
“Dessert time!” Mickey cheers as he slides into the kitchen.
“What’re we having?” Mason shifts from foot to foot.
“I thought you’d like to make some s’mores…” I know they are your favorite.
“With the mega-big marshmallows?” Mickey’s eyes grow wide. God, I am going to miss these kids…
“Of course.” I match his smile and gesture towards the platter of s’mores supplies laid out on the counter.
“I’ll, uh, leave you three to it.” Ana says softly as she slowly backs out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going? You haven’t even had s'mores yet!” Mason turns to Ana.
“I don’t want to intrude on father-son bonding time with your last night together.” She smiles softly at Mason.
“You wouldn’t be intruding.” I say hopefully. Please stay…
“Still… you should have some privacy.” She holds my eyes for a moment longer before turning and walking out of the room. What have I done?
***
I am sitting in the dim lighting of my office. My fingers wrapped around a glass of Eagle Rare Bourbon as I gaze out of the window. My thoughts are a jumbled mess as I bring the tumbler to my lips.  I hear the door open slowly and I glance over to see Ana enter quietly, clicking the door shut behind her.
“I thought I might see you again tonight.” I say as I turn my focus back towards the city lights outside.
“Sam, we need to talk about us.”
I can sense the sadness behind her words.
“Ana…” I sigh as I look at her with regret.
I see her shoulders tense as she balls her hands up into fists at her side. Red hot color rising on her cheeks.
“You owe me this, Sam. Don’t pretend like you don’t.” Anger drips from her every word.
I take a deep breath and give her a small nod, but I have no words. I get lost in my own thoughts again... You’re right… but I have no idea what to say to you. There is nothing I can do about this fucked up situation I put us in… I am so sorry that I dragged you into this mess. I am a selfish man that longs to be with you… but I have no control.
“We had sex last night, Sam.” Her voice cracks.
My chest tightens.
“I haven’t forgotten.” My eyes still trained on the city lights outside.
“It feels like you want to. In fact, it feels like you’re running halfway around the world because of it.”
My breathing gets shallow as she takes a step towards me, the anger rolling off of her in waves.
“You’re a lot of things, Sam, but I never took you for a coward.” Her voice laced with contempt as she stepped in front of me.
My eyes flick to hers as a new emotion bubbles to the surface: anger.
“A coward?” I whisper as I lift to my feet and we stand face-to-face.
“You heard me.” She tips her nose in the air. “You could have walked away last night.”
I can't help the humorless laugh that escapes my lips. How does she not understand that I cannot control myself around her?
“I wish that were true.” It would make my life a whole hell of a lot easier. God help me, I can’t resist you.I reach up and run my fingertips down her cheek, watching her shudder at my touch, but her expression remains guarded and angry.. “I’ve been trying to walk away from you since the moment we met. Yet somehow… I always end up back here.”
She steps back out of my reach, crossing her arms in front of her chest. My eyes scan down the length of her body.
“That’s not good enough, Sam.” Her eyes bore into mine.
God Dammit woman.
“Let’s get one thing straight here, Ana. The timing of this trip may seem suspicious to you, but I don’t want to go. I have to go.” I take a step toward her, narrowing my eyes. “And every time I look at you, it’s a reminder of what I’m leaving behind.”
Her eyes widen as her anger starts to slip. “Really? You aren’t relieved to have an escape?”
“No! This is so much worse.” I take a deep breath, trying to reign in my anger. My urge to control her and have her bare before me is making my cock twitch.  I watch as Ana turns and steps to the window. The war inside of my head battles on before I finally give in. I step up behind her, running my nose along the sensitive skin below her ear before grabbing her hips and pulling her against me. I feel her body melt into mine. She turns to face me, and I place my hands on either side of her head, the cold glass a welcome reprieve from the heat coursing through my veins. I press my desire against her and I watch as her eyes darken.
“Sam, you should fire me now.” She whispers. “Neither one of us has the strength to resist. Stopping cold turkey is the only answer. You go to Italy, conquer the business world, marry Sofia. I’ll move out and find something else. We both walk away, hands clean. Well… as clean as they can be.”
I can see it in her eyes that she doesn’t believe the words she is saying, but it doesn't stop them from stinging my heart.
“My hands aren’t clean, Ana. How can they be, when I think about you every time I touch myself?” My eyes flick down to her plump, pink lips. “Or when I want to murder the next man who touches you?”
“Then what’s the endgame here? What do you want?” She pleads, her eyes shining in the dim light.
“I want you, dammit.” I confess.
She grabs the lapels of my suit and pulls me even closer to her curves,
“Prove it.” She challenges, her eyes dark.
She brings her lips to mine and our lips ignite into a frenzy of heat and frustration. I bring my arms around to her lower back and pull her hips snug to mine. A sudden feeling of regret passes through my mind and I pull back, a question in my eyes.
“Ana…” I warn.
“Don’t think. Just feel.” She purrs as she pushes my jacket off of my shoulders. She runs her fingernails across the back of my neck softly before pulling my lips down to hers again. I grab her hips, spinning her around and pinning her back against the cold glass of the window. She gasps at the sensation as I grab her wrists and pin them over her head. I use my free hand to roam the planes of her curves, her body igniting under my touch.
“Sam...” She moans as her eyes flutter shut.
I find the hem of her shirt and dive underneath, finding the lace of her bra, I run my fingers along the gentle curve of her breasts. Her chest heaving and pushing her perfect body into my eager hands.
“Has it really only been a day since I last touched you like this?” I whisper against her lips. “Already feels like a lifetime ago…”
She arches her back, pressing deeper into me as I let out an involuntary moan. God the things this woman does to me…
“Can you really go the rest of the summer without this?” I can feel her smile against my lips.
“I can’t even go the next five minutes without it.” I admit as my cock hardens uncomfortably in my pants.
I reach down and cup her ass, picking her up and carrying her to my desk. I sweep everything off of my desk and lay her down. Her emerald eyes dark with desire as she watches me remove every article of her clothing, throwing them haphazardly around the room. Her chest rises and falls, and her lips are swollen with our kisses. I kiss each piece of newly exposed flesh, the soft moans coming from her lips a sound of pleasure and surrender.
“God, I want to eat you up…” I say against her hip. She looks down at me and takes her bottom lip between her teeth.
“You’ve gotta earn that privilege.” A challenge in her eyes as she sits up and places her hands on my chest, pushing me away from her. Her nearly naked body glowing in the colored light from the Tiffany Lamp.
“Ana?” I ask.
“You’ve been a naughty boy, Sam.” She purrs. “And you know what that means, I’m going to tie you up.”
“Fuck.” I whisper and her words send another surge of heat and desire through me. I watch as she gracefully slides off of the desk, motioning for me to sit down in my chair.
“Wait. Undress first.”  She leans in and skims her fingers across my chest, then tugs lightly on the flap of my shirt. “I don't want to have to deal with this later.”
You naughty, fucking minx.
I quickly strip off my clothes, my eyes never leaving hers as I take a seat in my chair, resting my arms on the armrests. I watch her carefully as she digs through a drawer in my desk, pulling two spare computer cords out. I watch as her steady hands tie my forearms and wrists to the chair. My eyes travel across her barely clothed body and I think of all the things I wish to do to her perfect ass.
She steps back, a look of pride flashing across her eyes.
“Aren’t you a sight?” She smiles as she looks at me hungrily.
“Ana…” I murmur.
I tried to move my arms, but she did a damn good job tying me down.
“This isn’t fair. I want to touch you.”
“Oh… You want to talk about not fair?” She clenches her jaw as she saunters up to me, the movement of her hips accentuated by the delicate fabric. “Everything that’s happened today hasn’t been fair.” Her eyes narrow at me as she leans towards me. She is careful not to touch me but I can feel the electricity crackling between us. Her perfect breasts are right in front of my face and I know she can feel my hot breath against them. “And now you’re being punished for it.”  She stands up and gracefully hops back up onto my desk.
She leans back, spreading her legs wide open, revealing every single perfect inch of her perfect body to me. I watch her fingers slide down her curves until they come to rest between her legs, slipping underneath her panties to rub at her center.
Fuck me.
“Ohmygod…” I moan as my cock hardens more than I even thought possible. The throbbing is almost unbearable as I watch her fingers spread the moisture that is pooling in between her legs. Her head lulls back as moans escape her lips.
“Ohh, YES!” She cries out, her body tensing.
My eyes are trained on her perfect cunt as she worships it with her fingers. My breathing is growing labored as I think about all the things I want to do. Her hips are bucking as she nears her edge.
“Ana, please…. Let me touch you.” I beg, my voice husky. I can’t help but lick my lips as I think about her sweetness.
Her eyes open and her fingers slow as she considers me.
“I don't know… Have you been punished enough yet?” She smiles.
“No… but I can’t make it up to you properly unless you let me touch you. Please.” I am not above begging at this point.
She leans forward, and I watch her untie the cords from my wrists. As soon as I can tell that I am free, I reach up, grabbing her body and hauling it into mine. I bring my lips to hers and kiss her deeply, tasting her, reveling in the feel of our tongues together. I stand up, pressing her back down on the desk and I grab the delicate lace of her panties and push them down her thighs.
“I haven't been able to think about anything else all day…” I whisper against her lips. I can feel her smile. “You drive me to distraction even when you aren’t spread out in front of me…”
“And now?” She asks as she arches her back up off the desk.
I trace a delicate line up her bare legs, slowly teasing my way to her center.
“And now… I can barely control myself. I want to devour you.” I growl.
She leans back and spreads her legs wider.
I stand up and run my eyes slowly over every single piece of her exposed flesh, she blushes that delicious color.
The most beautiful thing I have ever fucking scene.
“Yes… I love seeing you open like this for me.” I murmur as my eyes scan her body over and over again, lingering on her exposed cunt.
I drop to my knees, and lower my mouth between her thighs as I lap up her pooling moisture. I watch as her eyes flutter closed, her eyelashes laying like fans across her cheeks. Her breathing intensities and her moans echo around the room. She calls out my name in ecstasy.
“If you want me to make this up to you properly, then you can’t come yet.” I challenge her. “Can you do that, Ana? Can you hold back until I tell you?” I punctuate my question with a devilish twirl of my tongue and she gasps.
“Yes! Sam… bring it on. I can take whatever you have to give. Don’t hold back.” She is panting and her perfect cunt is dripping for me. Her eyes find mine and I can see the challenge accepted. Good girl.
I trail kisses back to her center, dipping and tasting her pooling wetness. So fucking sweet. Her body shivers as I continue to flick my tongue against her. I reach down and grab my aching cock, running my hand up and down the throbbing shaft.
“Oh god… I’m gonna…” Her body starts to tense and my pumping increases.
“Already? I thought you said you could take it.” I say, my lips moving against her.
I feel her body tremble as she moans.
“Ohmygod, that feels… Sam, don’t stop.”
Never, beautiful. I will never stop doing this to you.
I groan out her name as the pleasure in my body nears the edge, my tongue continuing to flick at her exposed flesh. I call out her name as I find my release and I feel her body tense as she cries out mine. We ride out each other's orgasm, ecstasy blinding me.
Eventually her body sags against the desk, her breathing rapid. I stand up and wrap my arms around her body, bringing her tight to me as our breathing slows.
I untangle myself from her and we both stand and get dressed in a silence that is thick with tension.
The reality of what just happened hits me hard as I watch her button up her silk blouse.
Fuck. Again. No fucking control, Dalton, you total fuck up.
Without a word she moves towards the door, lingering with her hand on the door knob.
“Sam, I-”
“I’m sorry, Ana. I didn't mean to get so carried away. It won’t happen again.” I interrupt her, saying the only thing I can think of at this moment… words I regret as soon as they escape my lips.
I watch as confusion spreads across her face and she gives me a silent nod.
“My flight leaves early. I’ll be gone before you wake up…” I say softly.
“Oh. I see. I guess this is… goodbye.” She looks down at the floor, her fingers playing at the hem of her shirt. She wraps her arms around herself and slowly begins to slip out of the door.
“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. You deserve so much better than me.”
My words halt her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder at me, and I see her eyes shining.
“I can decide what I ‘deserve’ for myself.” She walks out of the room without another word, and I am left even more pissed with myself than I was this morning. I sit down at my desk and run my hands through my hair.
She’s right… you are being a coward. I am avoiding this shit storm I created for myself by running away…
I sip another glass of bourbon as I come to the only solution I can think of: postpone my trip to Italy, and even though it will probably bite me in the ass… Ana and the boys have to come with me. My stomach sours at the thought of Robin getting a hand on this before me… but I shove the thought aside.
That's it.
***
I nurse my second cup of coffee as I watch the sunrise through the windows. I hear soft footsteps walking down the hallway and I swallow my nerves. Ana rounds the corner and stops short when she sees me, a glimmer of hope and surprise flashing through her eyes.
“Sam?! What’re you going here? I heard you leave this morning…”
“I did a lot of thinking last night, but I didn’t come to a conclusion in time to cancel my car earlier.” I try to control my excitement.
“What conclusion?” She asks carefully.
“That you were right. I was being a coward and running away from my problems. I sent Robin ahead and postponed my meetings to next week so I could do this right. I’m turning this business trip into a family vacation for all of us.” Her face lit up.
“You mean…” A smile playing on her lips.
“Pack your bags, Ana. You’re coming with me to Italy.”
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bookofmirth · 3 years ago
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Hi, okay so I read your answers to anon alot and they are always so articulate and resonate with me as a person which is why I want to hear your opinion on this, I used to like tamlin but now after all the shit he has done I wish he stopped being in the book series after ACOWAR because he atleast received a little redemption when he helped save Rhys during the war and honestly I feel so bad for him, he gets too much exaggerated hate from the inner circle.But I have been so scared recently because people are coming up with theories that he is elain’s mate with the whole “what if the cauldron is wrong” and I don’t want that, not only because it will kill lucien even if he doesn’t eventually end up with elain imagine giving him hope then taking it away and giving it to his best friend that used to abuse him it honestly hurts I am pretty sure I will cry if that happens as much as I hate elriel I prefer them ending up together than elain with tamlin plus this was her sister’s abuser it’s just so icky to me I want elain to save the spring court alone and let tamlin step down, grow and be happy without entering a relationship he can get his redemption arc any other way not just through a romantic relationship I know SJM will do whatever she wants and honestly this is a possibility but I really hope it doesn’t happen😭😭😭I won’t be able to take it I barely went through acowar and acofas because of how lucien was treated.
Hello!
So the idea of Elain and Tamlin ever happening... no. Just no. It won't happen in canon. I don't blame people who ship it because hey! Ship what you want! But it's mostly based on the aesthetic, and like you pointed out, ignores their entire histories as characters. Certain people in this fandom seem very interested in shipping based on aesthetic rather than the actual character dynamics. And again! Go for it! It just seems difficult to me to figure out how that would play out in a fully realized plot and taking into account personalities and histories.
I was chatting a lot with bookclub about this earlier, but honestly? Tamlin's story arc ended when he helped to resurrect Rhys at the end of acowar. It was the perfect way for him to make amends with Feyre and show that he could be a changed, better person. The end. Fini.
Everything that has happened since re: Tamlin is annoying af.
But the idea of Tamlin and Elain as it works in the story, with Tamlin having emotionally abused Feyre, and with Elain being Lucien's mate, just... no. In theory, okay. Y'all do y'all. In practice, no!
I wouldn't be surprised if Elain does end up in Spring, just because of the comments about how she would love it there and how she looks out of place in Night. But that doesn't mean she would end up with Tamlin. Lucien is the emissary to Spring, still. Spring and Day both still fit her personality far more than Night. idk, it feels like people get way more hung on up the aesthetics of the story and forget all the information we have about their pasts and their personalities and their goals.
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1234-angelika · 3 years ago
Text
Lucky Strike
an:As always, I'm excited to share this with y'all. This is the third installment of the Happily Ever After series for Derek. Hope y'all enjoy!
words:1 k
warnings:implied sexual harrassment (nothing descriptive), sexism
summary:"Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment, until it becomes a memory."-Dr.Seuss
masterpost|taglist|have an idea
A soon as Derek left for Texas, you had been texting back and forth. You were just texting about random things; where you grew up, your families, hobbies, dream vacations…anything you could think of.
What started off as a regular day rapidly changed into something out of the ordinary. The director of the FBI academy had approached you and asked if you were willing to do more in-depth one-on-one sessions with some of the newer recruits who were at, the lower end of the fitness level. Of course, you agreed, and now you were spending your days putting in more time with the recruits.
Currently, you were having a one-on-one session with one of the said recruits since he was the least prepared for the rapidly approaching physical. You had just gotten him set up on the treadmill when your phone went off, alerting you to the fact you had received a text. Picking it up, it read;
'Hey, Pretty Lady.
I just wanted you to know I'll be back from Texas this afternoon, and I wanted to see if you were free tonight?'
You responded quickly, wanting to make sure he got your answer before the plane took off.
'Hey, handsome.
I am free tonight. You can pick me up at 7.'
He sent you a smiley face emoji, and you responded in kind, wishing him a safe flight before putting your phone back on the bench. You shifted your complete focus back to training the student, trying your best to motivate him and push him harder. By the time the clock read 12, you were exhausted and more than ready to go home. However, you still had two training sessions left for the day.
The next recruit came in, and you were prepared. Because the push-ups and the chest presses were the most difficult, you were ready with a strength training circuit. ()
The third recruit of the day was the one you weren't prepared for. Since lodging the complaint against the female recruit and recommending she be removed from the academy, you hadn't heard anything so, you assumed she had been dealt with or had another trainer. As she walked into the gym, a smirk on her face, you realized you had thought wrong. And, you had no idea why she needed one-on-one training, last time you worked with her, she was more than adequately prepared for the physical.
She reached you and just began talking, "Hey Y/N, guess you're not rid of me yet."
Doing your best to fight off the sour expression that wanted to be on your face, you tried for a smile—though it came out as more of a grimace. You didn't say anything back in fear of being unable to bite your tongue. So, instead of saying anything, you just gestured to the treadmill, an indication for her to start warming up. After the warmup, you instructed her on various activities based on concepts from the physical. Throughout the session, she kept commenting on your body and trying to flirt. Since nothing came of it last time, you took it in stride and ignored it, choosing to only focus on exercise.
When the clock changed to six, you were quick to lock up your office and swipe out of the gym before hurrying to the locker room. You took a quick shower, changed into something nicer and then applied a light amount of makeup. Checking your phone, you saw the time and panicked. Shoving all your stuff into your gym bag, you picked it up and slung it over your shoulder along with your purse before hurrying out of the locker room. Only to be met with none other than your date, Derek Morgan.
He greeted you with a dazzling smile and then reached out his hand, offering to carry your bag for you. Gently, you eased the gym bag off your shoulder and handed it over. Together the two of you walked out to his car. Stopped at a traffic light, you asked, "So Derek, where are you taking me?"
He glanced over at you before turning back to the road, a smirk on his face, "It's a surprise, if that's alright…."
With a chuckle, you said, "I'm good, as long as you aren't taking me to the middle of nowhere with a murder plan in-mind."
He let out a low, breathy laugh, and then the only sounds in the car were from either the radio or your guys' breathing. The drive seemed to take forever, but you attributed that to the fact that the date was a surprise.
"He remembered!" You thought to yourself as Derek's car pulled up to the old brick building. The glowing neon sign bright against the dark night sky.
As you entered the bowling alley, the smell of wax, pizza and the unfortunate accompaniment of feet filled your nose. You didn't recoil in disgust like most people would do, but rather, you felt a sense of comfort in the dimly lit bowling alley. As a child and throughout high school, you had spent a lot of time at the local bowling alley. You made so many important memories there.
As you walked to the counter, you said, "Derek, I can't believe you remembered!"
He looked at you with a grin saying, "Honey, how would I not? You said that this was your dream date and obviously, I wanted to impress you."
You were silent for a couple moments, so he interrupted the silence asking, "Did it work?"
You turned to him, vigorously nodding your head. Your eyes became misty with happy, unshed tears. The sheer importance of him remembering the way you had described the date was something you couldn't put into words. Unable to say anything, as an answer, you made the decision to show your appreciation by planting one on him. From the start of the night, you knew it would be a date you would never forget.
taglist: @multixfandomwriter @myescapefromthislife
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rpbetter · 3 years ago
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I'm so tired of roleplaying with people who don't put half the commitment I do into our threads and muses. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm a weirdo or like I don't belong for that. Any other hobby and people wouldn't care if I took it seriously. Why is roleplaying different? How can I keep going like this if I'm getting rudeness from all sides? I can't even go outside my already tiny bubble and find more partners, because I always see people putting roleplayers like me down and it's exhausting.
"Why is roleplaying different?"
Well, Anon, I know that was a rhetorical question, but I have some thoughts on that. To the surprise of no one!
I strongly believe that this is an issue with how fandom has come to dominate roleplaying. As I've said before, it really wasn't always like that. Of course, you always had canon characters and almost all RPers were invested in a fandom or two. The difference was that online RP was once viewed much more like tabletop RPGs are.
When the RPC became a near-total offshoot of Fandom, a lot of shit changed and very rapidly...and within Fandom, a lot of shit was changing very rapidly as well at that time.
RP has always been something looked down on (though, at least no one ever accused written RP online of being literally demonic like they did DnD, or made correlations to murder sprees like they did LARPing, so there's that) as strange, not the good, understandable sort of dorky.
Part of that is almost certainly because of the difference in the way society views writing vs the way it views hobbies like gaming - writing is seen as an intellectual pursuit and a job, gaming, even at its most negative points of view in wider society, has been seen traditionally as a downtime activity only.
But. RP was not looked down upon from within Fandom or in roleplay communities themselves like it is now.
When the whole experience of fandoms themselves became extremely mainstream and open, it welcomed in a ton of shit ideas and behaviors that were not previously prevalent. It changed RP, too, along many of those same lines.
When your hobby is considered objectionably weird by people within the fandoms you love and RP in and that makes you a sort of lowest-tier fan, the viewpoint of RP to RPers becomes something lesser than a valid hobby. When RPers are the same people who engage with Fandom monetarily, anything not monetized is passively consumable content, including RP. And RPers are trying to both deflect shame and struggling with wider society's mixed messages, that now hit them everywhere online as well. Shit like, "you don't have to monetize your hobby, it's okay to just make really good cross stitches of memes for yourself" and "if you're not paying me, you have no control over me."
We seriously do not view RP as a proper hobby anymore, that's why. There are many factors to that, those are just few, but that's the ultimate answer. It's not seen that way because it's not valued in the same way.
I think much of the problem with muns losing their entire shit over anyone else approaching the hobby differently, dare I say...more seriously, is related to a lot of complex psychology about self-esteem, control, and anxiety. So many people here struggle with serious self-worth and confidence issues, and I think to many of them, whether they realize it or not, when they see serious RPers, they feel like that's an inherent judgment and a danger to their own enjoyment. Because RP, as writing, is a skilled hobby - the more you practice it, the more skilled you become with it. Meaning that someone who approaches the writing seriously is going to be at a higher skill level.
Enter the way we're training to think about writing again - when they see someone who is very practiced, skilled, and confident with their writing, the learned idea is that they're somehow superior in a nasty, personal way.
I most certainly do not think that makes it alright, it isn't, and I'm not very tolerant of it.
It's absolutely alright to engage with RP in any way you see fit. If that's extremely casual, it's a minor hobby for you, that's great! I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself, and I mean that in no facetious way. But not when that is the only form of it respected and accepted. It's just as alright to have RP as your primary, serious hobby!
The only way we can all enjoy a hobby with such great variance within it is by respecting each other's variables, not by vilifying them. It's recognizing that, no matter how much you enjoy the mun and/or muse, they're not engaging with the hobby in the way you are, it's not a good fit to write together. (Please, begging y'all to be friends with those who are different, not enemies, shit's sake. You've not got to write together to be friends!) Instead of labeling them and being hateful. Different =/= a threat.
And, to go off a bit lol y'all demonizing serious RPers really don't get that there are some intense tones of ableism and more going on in that narrative of yours, huh?
Not that anyone requires a reason to be serious about any hobby, but when people pick a hobby like RP as their primary one...you should probably have the maturity to consider why that is. Could it be that they focus on a hobby they can do from their homes and that requires low physical involvement, and has a degree of separation from direct socializing, for a reason?
Serious RPers tend to be limited in their ability to pursue other hobbies. Mental and physical health, region, finances, and ability to spend time outside of the home are all very common limits for those who "take RP too seriously/are addicted to RP."
Maybe take five seconds away from your own issues to consider that the person you're shitting on for something so minor as a difference of importance of a hobby might be the full-time caretaker of a special needs child, having to remain home and on a very small income. They might be chronically ill or suffer from agoraphobia. They might live in an area with no hobbies of interest, affordability, or at all...or they might live somewhere that is incredibly dangerous for them.
I honestly do not know where these people have been that they've been aggressed at by serious RPers, but that's usually the excuse. (I'm not saying it has never happened or does not happen, before anyone goes there.) The idea that serious RPers are extreme elitists who are demanding that other muns do what they do, how they do it. That they expect other muns to be online and RPing all the time, that they be "available for entertainment at all times" at the cost of real-life matters. Having the expectation that threads not be dropped constantly or that a writing partner not leave for months with no contact is neither of those things.
In over two decades of RPing across almost every platform type that has existed, I have literally never seen that be either a singular RPer-type problem or one that serious RPers are even more likely to deal in. I've seen the opposite, actually. Which is not a condemnation or a statement that all casual RPers do this, just what my experience has been. And one that actually stands to reason based on the way they view and engage with RP - quick replies, quick entertainment, and very low commitment to threads, muses, or other muns. Of course, it's annoying to them when a more serious RPer is unwilling to do rapid-fire style quick, short threads from an ask with them, but is writing the lengthy replies they already owed instead.
That's probably a factor as well, in here among a plethora of misunderstanding/unawareness of differences - for many serious RPers, it's not easier and more fun to write short, quick threads. So, what a casual RPer is seeing is that they're willing to put all this extraordinary effort into a massive reply to someone else while their easy, fun, quickly done thread is waiting in line.
Misunderstandings and unawareness breed hostility, period. And there is a hell of a lot of those things in the RPC.
What serious RPers are expressing are either boundaries/expectations or frustration. Not a demand that you be around all the time, but an expectation that you leave them alone if you're not also a serious RPer who will be committed to threads and muses. Not hostility and elitism, the frustration that it's already difficult to find muns who will work out before you add in the majority rule of casual RPers.
It's incredibly disheartening, frustrating, and honestly, a bit anxiety-inducing to constantly be the weird one, always have few choices, and to be at risk of being Problematic purely because you take the hobby seriously. You can't vent without someone jumping on your ass to remind you (even if you said numerous times that "real life comes first" and "people can do what they want") that omg, people have lives, people can do what makes them happy, it's just RP.
It's so upsetting when you think you might have found a good writing partner, then, you see a PSA they've reblogged about how it's a "hobby, not a jobby," and "no one owes anyone anything, ever." Excuse me, as that last one is a direct quote, let me redo it so it is verbatim: "no one owes anyone here anything - EVER !!!"
I said I wasn't very tolerant :)
But seriously, exactly what you've expressed is why I'm not...it's another form of controlling others instead of trying your best to control your own experience, and it's often extremely hateful. I'm not tolerant of anything like that, it's no longer supporting preferences at that point. When your preference is the only one that will be tolerated in the community, it's not a preference anymore.
It's something that makes others feel isolated, afraid of harassment, and depressed. It is a hobby and it isn't supposed to make you feel like that!
And, no, absolutely the fuck not lol the "answer" to this isn't that you're taking it too seriously and need to take a break. I'm so tired of seeing that shit tacked onto RPH responses and vents and PSAs. You're not saying that RP is making you feel this way, "just take a break and come back when you agree with everyone else" isn't a solution.
Of course, if you do feel like your time here has become so upsetting? Yeah, obviously, you should try to find some other things to supplement your downtime that make you feel happier again. Engage in some other forms of writing just meant for yourself, or that can be published as fics. Spend some more time on a game you enjoy for a while, or get invested in a new one. Learn to shape bonsai or make no-knead rolls. Whatever would make you happy as a hobby when you're not here.
Other than that, however, well...we're not going to be implying on this blog that you're too serious and need to take a hiatus until you have no emotional investment in your hobby. That's insane. I'd not say it about hiking, martial arts, dog obedience competitions, hobby farming, or painting either.
I wish I could think of some solutions as to where you could look that wasn't like this, but it's definitely the majority of the RPC. It doesn't help that, due to this, serious RPers have a tendency to quietly stick together and not venture out into the RPC. They're just not incredibly easy to find.
I will say that they tend to be:
novella - if you're not here for serious RP and sticking around for a while, you're not going to invest the time and energy into particularly lengthy writing
older RPers - I would say that twenty-five is probably the youngest, with early thirties to late forties being the majority
in fandoms with a large adult base of fans - even if it's a franchise friendly to, or even meant for, younger fans, if it has a particularly active adult fanbase, it's a better chance of finding serious RPers in it
as above, old fandoms - fandoms that have been around for a long time tend to have more serious RPers in them
fandomless OCs - tend to have a higher chance of being written by serious RPers than canons or heavily fandom-involved OCs
RPers who do not do a ton of advertising for their muse(s), but when they do, they don't advertise them based on activism points or trends
slightly more likely to not have an emphasis on highly aesthetic blogs, graphics, icons etc. - they use a modified basic tumblr theme, low on graphics, their aesthetics are not on-trend, for example
anti-content policing/"write what you want" style muns
muns with more extensive rules pages - they plan to be here for a while, they take writing, RP, and their muse(s) seriously, so, it's a bit more important to them to head off problems before they start
those with older characters/FCs - be that literally in age or the character being one that has existed for a long time
"stay in your lane" style muns - if they're opining on fandom or the RPC, they must really be angry about something
those with numerous and detailed headcanons - for example, their response to a HC meme ask like, "what's your muse's favorite ice cream flavor?" is going to be treated seriously, not simply answered with "mint chocolate chip because my bby is gross"
As usual, not a complete or perfect list. I don't fit some of the things on there! It could give you some things to look for when trying to find other serious RPers, though. It's based on observances from someone who was never a casual RPer, even as a minor (me, obviously), and maybe it could at least keep you from continuously running into hostility about your approach to RP.
I've honestly considered making a list of some sort expressly for RPers who are on the more serious end of the spectrum, but...in a RPC back when things were dominated by serious RPers, I did that sort of thing with a RPH I had, and it still got labeled as being a list for and by Elitists. I don't know that anyone would want to put themselves out there for potential harassment on tumblr, you know? It was a joke then, just having a group of RPers label you as an Elitist. Here, you get told to kill yourself, and none of us need more of that shit, right?
Try to hang in there, Anon, I know it's upsetting, and I'm so sorry that something fun has gotten to be like this.
Try to understand that these people are coming from a place of irrational defensiveness, often in response to bullying themselves at some point or feeling bad about themselves. That doesn't make it right, but it does make it easier to not take to heart.
And keep at it! In my experience here, once you find a group of people you fit into, it really is...A Group. Especially among RPers who are ostracized, they stick together, they promote each other, and they're very happy for their mutuals to become your mutuals. Once you find them, it unlocks so many opportunities for the interactions and type of RP you've been missing!
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