#( & now I have plenty to work with! đ
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sorry for the sudden radio silence / immediate inactivity, friends ! my week started with me feeling totally unwell đ I took all of yesterday & today to recover, so I'm hoping to be here & doing things soonđ
however, amid my suffering ... I did manage to pump out a few more icons đ
I do adore ... đŒđč
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If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?
If ya taking requests rn still?âšđđđ
Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs
A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!
btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy đđ but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.
cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,
GENERAL
ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.
he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.
the link costume only appears when heâs in his ghost form. so for example, when heâs messing with someone on their computer heâll appear as the canon BEN weâre most familiar with. when heâs just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.
contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.
ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.
lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.
ROMANTIC
you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendyâs? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.
âwhy would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.â
would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. heâs just EXTREMELY touchy.
he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.
after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of yâall showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers arenât too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.
favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)
not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then heâll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.
now letâs talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.
heâs probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.
ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.
the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. youâre gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else youâll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.
a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.
please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.
pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.
big fan of late night make-out sessions. iâm talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each otherâs faces with tongues down throats. if you donât want his hands running over every inch of your body then youâll probably have to chain him to the wall.
NSFW
okay. so heâs a little inexperienced with his hands. heâs just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!
ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.
i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-iâm-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.
definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but heâs more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. heâs pretty vanilla given his occupation.
despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this manâs mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like youâre the most gorgeous being on the planet and heâll let you know it.
he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.
he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.
he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.
did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.
he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.
#creepypasta#creepypasta smut#celia reqs#creepypasta x reader#ben drowned#ben drowned x reader#ben drowned smut#ben drowned x y/n#ben drowned x you#ben drowned headcanons#ben drowned hcs#creepypasta headcanon
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âȘ â đ± đŠđđĄđŠđđŠ, đđŠđź
logan sargent x fem! reader (fluff)
â. . . using his five senses, these are his favourite things about you.â
( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests | taglist )
Sight
Logan absolutely loves seeing you danceing and having the time of your life
it makes him all giddy and happy inside
watching you forget yourself and follow the beat or jingle, he cant help but admire the sight
if youre dancing at a party or at home in a game of just dance, you know he's hyping you up
"that is . . . not-" Logan tried to hold in his laugh, sitting on the couch watching you play just dance (and recording for later). "SHH!! Let me concentrate!" you hushed back, trying to copy the moves only to gey a lot of errors snd red. Logan put his hand over his mouth, watching you you eventually trip and sit on your ass in surrender. "I dont like this routine." you grumbled, watching the blond get up to lift you back on your feet.
Touch
It's becoming a regular activity where the two of you are caught in a crowd,
wheather at a concert or in a street or even at circuits by fans or reporters.
His biggest worry with these things is losing you in the sea of people,
so when you grab onto him it eases his mind that youâre close and that he won't lose you.
âY/n?â He called looking behind him in search of you. When he felt the little tug on his pinky finger he knew you were somewhere behind him in the crowd of people. The football match had ended and the halls to the exits and parking lot were packed. The only thing keeping him in his head was you holding his pinky and with him still.
Smell
Although not itâs something from you in particular, Logan associates incense with you.
He finds it a really calming part of you.
You usually light one up when studying. The scent fills the apartment if you forget to close the door or if you study in the living room.
His favourite part is that the smell sometimes sticks to you after an hour or three, which usually tells him how long youâve been preparing for exams.
Sometimes, you light one jokingly, pretending to cast a spell.
âCalypso,â You pleaded, trying to hold in a smile as Logan sat on the chair, face in his hand, doing his best to hold in laughter as you circled the smoking stick around his head. He had his bags packed, ready to leave for the airport for the next race only for you to stop him and push him in a chair. âGive Logan a win, you bitch. This is the 7th time I've asked. please, thank you. Also, make Max crash out- actually, the whole grid. cradh them all out. cheers."
Hearing
Logan's favourite part of the day is hearing you talk.
It doesn't matter what about.
Whether it's work, or something you're passionate about, or even gossip or just vents.
You have all of his attention.
youre the onky thing he hears, 100% of his concentration is on you.
its also very evident on his face and reactions, he practically turns into emojis,
'guess what!! i got the job!' 'You got the job! Told you could do itđ€©'
'logan!! Person A cheated on Person B!' 'WHATT?? đš'
'i love this course!' 'which one the one with friend? the assignment you had fun doing? đ'
"Wait, wait. start over because I'm very confused." Logan told you, moving to sit closer to you so he can hear over. "What are you confused about?" You'd ask, and just like that, Logan would repeat everything you said, his facial expressions contouring to show concentrated blondie confused about the gossip you just spilled.
Taste
chapsticks have flavours. And logan is lucky that you have plenty because it makes kisses more delicious.
he already feels like he melts every time you kiss him,
now imagine double the effect with flavoured kissies!! hes not pulling away
"oh, but baby, you're so sweet" he protects if you try to part
he pouts and chases your lips and licks them if he manages too, might even bite yoir lower lip to keep you close.
"hm!" he hums surprised by the new flavour, momentarily licking just a bit to familarize himself with the flavour before going back in deeper with the kiss, holding your waist to stop you when you try to pull away. "Logannn," you whine against his lips but a moan only left your throat feelinghim tilt his head a little. "No one's looking," he mumbled to assure you. "You're like my very own cherry tree." he chuckled before kissing you, more softly this time.
#â§ËâčđȘŽ àŹ :: đșđ đđŒđżđžđ â§âË‟#ïčyour lovers and you ïčđ#logan sargeant x you#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargent x reader#logan sargent fluff#formula one#formaula one logan sargeant#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x y/n#ls2#ls2 x reader
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Hi!! I LOVE your Remy hcs! They were so sweet and in character đ I'm on my period and ya girl is suffering and I keep thinking that Remy would be the sweetest AND totally amazing in the fried food department đ Any hcs? Totally chill if nah
xx
Gambit/AFAB!reader!- Period HCS
YES!!! just yes. absolutlely. I want to taste this man's cooking so bad but I am ridiculously sensitive to spice and would probably die.
I have a similar req for Nightcrawler as well so keep an eye out for that one too ;) Sorry that this is a little short!
TWS: Menstrual cycles. Cramps. Menstrual cravings. Damn I'm hungry rn ngl. Can be read as GN as no pronouns are mentioned.
If cooking Isn't one of Remy's love languages I'm calling bull!!
I mean, who else would go out of their way to cook beignets for breakfast? I mean, sure, he could have made the dough beforehand but seriously that shit takes time.
I 100% believe he would go out of his way to make you anything you were craving on your period. Fried chicken? Done. Beignets? Obviously. Done! Hell, you want stuffed french toast but every time you try to make it you fail miserably? Don't worryyy! He's got you.
Although, that doesn't mean he does it for free!! He asks for payment via smooches and love. He tends to stray away from period sex until he knows you're comfortable with it, and if you are comfortable with it he's always there to offer his assistance if you need an all natural pain killer ;)
Mother nature fucking sucked. It wasn't enough that you had to deal with blood leaking out of you every month, but debilitating cramps on top of that? Straight bullshit!
You've been cocooned under your blankets all morning, curled up into a fetal position as you delt with the intense cramps. You've already taken the last of the painkillers you kept in your bedside table, and unfortunate for you, they were not working. You know you've certainly missed breakfast by now, but you just hurt too much to get up. You're face down on your pillow when there's a quick knock at your door before it opens.
"Good morning, ChĂšre~" Remy sings. You cant really respond to him other than giving him a tired hum. You hear the door shut behind him before the sound of him placing a plate on your bedside table.
" 'Figured you weren't feeling well when you weren't at the table, so I've brought you the Gambit special." He jokes. You feel the bed shift with his weight as his sits next to you, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.
"Thanks Rem." You mumble. If only you could bring yourself to sit up. You can smell the sweet scent of the beignets he had brought you, and it makes your stomach growl loudly. You wince as another wave of pain hits you coincidentally, and you're absolutely sure your body was planning to kill you.
" S' pretty bad, huh?" Remy asks, a comforting hand brushing the hair out of your face. You nod.
"Alright, c'mere." You don't have a chance to refuse as Remy is sitting you up, making space so he can sit against your headboard. You're blearily blinking your eyes open as he drags you into his lap, propping you up against his chest. You send him a groggy, questioning look, but he only responds with catching you in a chaste kiss.
"What? You didn't think I was gonna let my favorite person suffer alone, did you?" He asks, sending you a smile that you can't help but return. Remy feeds you your breakfast like that, keeping you snug and safe between his arms as he gives you plenty of kisses and rubs your lower stomach through each wave of pain. Those painkiller never did kick in, but at least you had someone sweet to distract you for a while.
#x men 97#x men#x men comics#x men headcannons#x men 97 x reader#remy lebeau#gambit#x men gambit#gambit imagine#gambit x reader#remy lebeau headcanons#remy lebeau headcannons#remy lebeau imagine#remy lebeau x reader#x men remy lebeau
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Stu w/ a hyperfemine reader
Stu Macher x reader
Author's Note: I'm trying a newwwww style <3 I think that having stuff like this being a mix of headcanons and scenes! mini fics and such. lemme know what you guys think and I hope you like it love! Thanks for being my guinea pig lol
Request: iâm hyperfixating on scream cuz 6 just came out and your list says you write for it so can i plz request stu macher x hyperfeminine!reader fluff like theyâre kinda opposites attract type thing idk lol đđ
Meeting Stu in the typically girly girl attire with that perky smile on your face was like sending him straight over the moon
He watched you, eyeing you up and down, curious and over telling
You werenât even talking to him but it was like you were there for him. Or maybe he was just being obsessive. He was probably just being obsessive.Â
Stu was the kind of guy who dated someone for fun, because he knew that it worked within a friend group or because of sheer popularity. It was usually never because he loved them.Â
Though lets be fair. The first time he saw you he was not thinking about love. There was something so dear to him about your eyes lighting up as you cheeirly moved about the friend group
You seemed to be a friend of Sidneyâs, which worked well in his favor. After things ended the summer before with Tatum Sidney had all but forgiven him for their little fling
Maybe, if Stu tried hard enoughâŠSidney could give him the number of her friend. You. He wants your number. He should probably ask Billy who could probably ask Stu.Â
Lots going on in his brain <3 so much <3Â
Him getting you alone for the first time is such a fun little time itâs so good
His smile widened as he approached you. Now that Sidney and Billy had left he could talk to you by himself, without her getting in the way. You were sitting on a fountain near the school, still smiling from the goodbyes you had given to your friend. He scooted closer to you.Â
âI donât think Iâve seen you around here before,â he said, nudging your side. You rolled your eyes. You knew of him. Sidney had told you plenty. Though his eyes were alluring and you were all too happy to oblige that look.Â
âI think you have,â you promised.Â
âI wouldâve remembered.â
âIâve been Sidneyâs friend forever.âÂ
âWell Iâve been Billyâs friend forever. Not Sidneyâs,â he explained. You narrowed your eyes at him, a smile on your face. He pointed at the skirt you were wearing, a fluff of pink at the bottom. âThatâs pretty.âÂ
You noted that he said pretty. He didnât say cute or girly. You smiled gratefully.Â
âThank you Stu. I like to flaunt my femininity.â
âI love flaunting femininity.â
Dating Stu is likeâŠthereâs always gonna be someone touching you. Even when you think he isnât in the room BOOM thereâs Stu and his hands on your sides
He loves everything about the hyperfemininity. He would play into it as much as you let him. He would buy you things you desired (while also being fully aware heâs being a bit of a dick when he points it out)Â
He probably makes awful jokes about your femininity linking to your ânatural woman desiresâÂ
He made one joke about cooking and cleaning and you hit him with your bag.Â
He was very offended. He also didnât really wanna mention it again (so he didnât thank goodness)Â
Sidney didnât particularly like that you were together but she didnât hate it either
She thought your energies matched rather well (she was unaware that Stu Macher could kill someone in cold blood)
But the high intensity of Stu always needed someone who could tame it or feed into it
He found that he adored your very natural brightness
âHey Stu?â He had his hand on your thigh but he wasnât paying attention to you until you spoke.Â
âYeah sweetheart?â You sat on your bed, watching some scary movie he had showed you. You had no quarrels with it but you werenât truly watching it. He always seemed enthralled and you could usually flip through a magazine unbothered but still together, a quiet understanding.Â
âAre you aware that youâre cuddling my little piggy?â He squinted, not sure what kind of joke you were making until he noticed he was cuddling your actual stuff pig. It was fluffy and large enough to be a pillow.Â
He didnât move away when he noticed. In fact, he pulled it closer to his chest with his arm that wasnât on you.Â
âNot your piggy anymore.â
âStu!â You reached forward to grab it but he pulled away, now clutching it with boht hands. You giggled. You attempted to reach around him but with laughter he fought you off. You giggled together until you were laying on top of him, the pig between you.Â
He made a pouty face at you.Â
It usually caused the both of you to be the life of the party
Billy thinks itâs rather annoying. Double annoying for the plans that he has for Stu and himÂ
Whenever Stu was with you it was like it never mattered, what Billy had planned
Well he still wanted to kill someone
But that was beside the point. He wanted to hang out with you and live his life with you. He didnât quite know what he would be without that.Â
You caught glimpses of that sometimes, when his face drifted off or when a joke Billy made landed a little wrong
But he never made it seem too overt
He was always more willing to talk to you about other things. Compliment your outfits, exist within the constraints of your room or his
It was actually really sweet <3Â
Always the boyfriend (even if heâs the boyfriend who always has a stupid reason to kill his gf i guess!)
âSweetheart. Youâre a sweetheart.âÂ
âThanks Stu.â
âYou are. Youâre my sweetheart.âÂ
âOh Stu.âÂ
He looked down at you, poking your nose, smiling brightly, eyes narrowed in adoration.Â
âYou look really good in pink.â
#stu macher x reader#stu macher imagines#stu x fem!reader#scream imagines#ghostface x reader#ghostface x fem!reader
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I saw your requests are open! I would LOVE to see Alfie with number 8, âI want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.â đ„”
Iâm all about dark too if you feel like it. Thank you! đ
Can do, one order of Alfie with a large side of dark!
Warnings - Dark!Alfie & smut below the cut. Minors DNI.
The wood emits an odour of damp, the drips from the leaky pipe above it moistening the surface, adding to the overall old, musky fragrance of the cellar. Long ago, it was used for storing wines of the finest vintage, but now the space serves as something else entirely.
The leaky pipe continually drips onto the beam above, your hands and wrists wet, yet not enough for you to struggle free from your rope bindings. How many years does it take wood to rot, you wonder at times. One snapped beam would equal your freedom.
Would you truly want to leave here, though? That would of course mean leaving him.
He might be the one who keeps you in this state of torment, but imagining a life without it is perhaps bleaker than the surroundings you're held prisoner within. Who and what would you be, if not Alfie's plaything?
The sound of heavy footfalls creaking the floorboards above signals his impending appearance, the creaky cellar door opening, the lamp he carries with him finally bringing a little illumination into the darkened space.
He descends the stairs carefully, sniffing, clearing his throat, the scent of him cutting through the musk and the dust, Alfie placing the lamp down on the table.
"'Ello, poppet. Want me to let ya down for a bit, do ya?"
You nod. "Yes, sir." You used to cuss him out, spit in his face, kick him, bite him, but now you know, it all goes a lot more smoothly if you show what he demands. Obedience.
"Good. Right, come on, then. Let's get this rope undied, yeah." Reaching to the hook connected to the upright support strut, he unwinds it, the tension slowly slipping from your wrists and arms as the tightness is loosened. He only lets you go when he has use for you. Falling asleep standing up has become a talent you have mastered, although your weary bones ache for a bed.
Walking to you, he watches as you shake a little life back into your arms, your bindings still tight, the rope that once tied you to the beam above shaking gently. "Still pretty, ain't ya? Bit pale, though. Then again, I suppose ya would be for not seein' no sunshine for a couple 'a months, innit?"
His chuckle, all foreboding grit and rumbling darkness, sets your skin on edge. It's thrill laced with trepidation, an exotic, potent mix, goose pimples rising as your blood begins to run hotter, Alfie reaching for your face. His thumb skims your cupid's bow, eyes touring you as he leans in close.
He smells of rum and deviance, his breath warm where it flutters against your cheek. âI want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.â
You know exactly how to oblige him, sinking to your knees, waiting patiently as he unfastens his trousers. You can already see the outline of his colossal erection through the black fabric swathing it, your captor pulling himself free, pumping his bulky shaft in a gold ring-adorned grip a few times before steering it to your mouth. "Open wide, love. Yeah, that's a good girl."
He shows no mercy, pushing forth between your lips, his hand fisting in your hair and making you take every last, fat inch of him. You choke him down, sucking gently to begin with, your tongue working the underside of his shaft as he slips back and forth.
The wet heat encasing him has him grunting deeply, cock twitching against your tongue. "Yeah, darlin'. You suck cock like a good'un, don't ya?" He moves faster, fucking your mouth with greater purpose, the need to spill into your throat consuming him.
It never takes too long, your mouth just too delicious an outlet for him, the thrill of knowing he's using you as nothing more than a mere toy adding to the ecstasy that rockets through him. He spurts thick and plentiful onto the back of your tongue, his cum dripping down your throat, his eyes two shards glittering at you through the low light.
It's the sight of him above you like that which burns itself into your brain, keeps you warm and lit up when the illumination is gone, when he's tied you up again and left you all alone in the dark once more.
Sometimes, it's in the darkness where we find the light. You understand only too well that Alfie's darkness is absolutely no exception.
#alfie solomons fanfiction#alfie solomons smut#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#peaky blinders fanfiction#peakt blinders smut#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fic
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Hi jelly it's me again đ.. Just come up with this idea.. I hope you don't mind seeing me again sending a request.. Levi and his baby goes to a restaurant and wait for his wife to have lunch. Reader is on work and they decided to have a lunch nearby her office. While waiting for reader some girls thought Levi is a Single dad and try to flirt with him but Levi being Levi don't give a damn about them.. When reader arrives at the restaurant Levi shows them how in love and proud he is that reader is the mother of his child...thankyyy.. it's fine if you're not comfortable doing this request just let me know. Thankkyyyy again. đ
Hot dad
Levi x Fem!Reader
Modern, dad Levi, romance, couple, Levi being a loving dad, fluff, cute.
Levi sits in a local cafe, waiting for you to come out on your lunch break. He cuddles his daughter Lilly and treats her to a delicious snack. A group of ladies fuss over Levi and Lilly, but Levi is a very lovesick and loyal man to the love of his life. You.
@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn
Levi pushed the pram as he walked down the street as he felt excited to see you for lunch. He looked down at his baby girl and smiled. He felt his heart flutter when she squealed in delight and grabbed the air at him. He reached down and tickled her cheek, then continued to push the pram to the cafe.
He pushed the door open, moved the pram inside and picked the usual spot in the corner, so he had plenty of room for the pram and it was where you and him had many dates. He carefully lifted his daughter out and sat her on his lap. He adjusted the blanket and got out a bottle from the baby bag.
"Levi, good to see you. The usual?"
Levi smiled at the waiter. "Please."
He picked up the bottle. "I'll warm this up for your daughter."
"I appreciate it." He grabbed Lilly's toy and handed it to her. "Here you go, my little flower."
Lilly wiggled her toy for a bit before stopping and playing with it. She hummed and looked up at Levi. "Aboo."
Levi chuckled. "That so? Fascinating."
"Oh my god." A girl gasped as she gazed at Levi. "He's so fucking hot and he's a dad."
Her friend purred. "Maybe he's a single dad. I bet he'd love help from us."
"Yes! We could help him out and look after him."
She giggled. "Perfect. I'll go." She got up, flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder and swayed her hips as she walked. She moved closer and expected Levi to look at her, but he didn't. She always had men staring at her, but it wasn't working. "Damn it."
The waiter moved past the blonde and placed drinks on the table and some snacks. "Here you go, Levi."
Levi smiled. "Thanks." He sipped his tea and hummed. "Wonderful stuff as usual."
"Thank you, Levi." He leaned closer and whispered. "Those two ladies will keep pestering you. Do you want me to handle them?"
Levi offered the bottle to his daughter and shook his head. "We've got this under control. Right Lilly?"
Lilly wiggled her arm. "Mmm! Ba!"
"You heard her." He moved the bottle closer. "Come on, you little terror." He smiled when she started drinking. "Good girl."
The waiter smiled. "Call me if you need me."
"Appreciate it, Will."
The blonde huffed a bit before moving closer to Levi. "Hi."
"No."
She gasped at Levi's sudden answer. "I...you...uh..." She cleared her throat. "I'm-."
"Don't care." He smiled at Lilly and cleaned her face. "Think it's time for you to burp, my little angel." He turned Lilly and patted her back. "Oh, big burp. Well done."
The blonde welled up. "Your baby is so cute and beauiful."
"Like her mother, who I love more than life itself." He glared at the woman. "Now, fuck off because I'm having a fun outing with my precious baby and then a date with my wife."
She whimpered and turned away as she felt embarrassed. She hurried over to her friend. "How dare he reject me."
Her friend rubbed her back. "Let me try." She got up and wiggled her bra a little before checking her black hair. She smiled and walked over to Levi. "You're a sexy daddy. How about you be my daddy?"
Levi scooped up some pudding and offered it to Lilly. "Eat up, my little flower."
"Hey, I asked you a question."
"And I thought I made myself clear to your friend." He offered Lilly another spoonful. He flicked a deadly glare at her. "I'm not interested. Piss off." He smiled at Lilly. "Messy girl." He cleaned her face. "There we go." He looked up and felt his heart flutter when you hurried inside. He called your name. "My darling."
You hurried over to him. "Hey, handsome." You leaned over and kissed him. "Hey, my baby girl." You took her from Levi and giggled when she patted your face. "Hi." You kissed her puffy cheek. "I missed you."
Lilly babbled at you. "Ma, ma, ma. Aboo."
You squeezed her. "Love you too." You sat next to Levi and kissed him. "You had a nice day?"
Levi nodded. "I did. Lilly and I have had a fun morning after dropping you off at work."
"I'm glad." You kissed Levi's neck. "I love you."
"Love you too."
#levi ackerman#levi#aot levi#snk levi#aot fanfiction#levi x you#fanfic#levi x y/n#levi fanfiction#levi x reader#dad!levi#dad levi#dadvi#levi x reader fluff#levi x yn#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman fic#levi ackerman snk#levi ackerman x female reader#levi ackerman x y/n#levi ackerman x you#captain levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x reader#jelly fanfics
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do you have thoughts on the diary horcrux and why it seems to have been so much more sentient than the other horcuxes? (also do u think riddle could really have come out of the diary?). thank you for all your incredible meta.
Thank you for your compliments! đ
So, I kinda have thoughts about anything Harry Potter related, so, yeah.
Okay, I'll start with the second part, actually. Tom Riddle in the diary definitely thought he could come out of the diary, and he seemed to be correct. By taking Ginny's life force he was able to appear outside of the diary. And according to Harry, he got more solid as he took more of her life:
but the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny . . . and in the meantime, Harry noticed suddenly, Riddleâs outline was becoming clearer, more solid. . . . If it had to be a fight between him and Riddle, better sooner than later
(CoS, page 292)
As for the magical theory of why it worked, I already mentioned here that in Alchemy, everything is alive. Everything that is alive is made up of three components:
1. Soul (Sulfur)
2. Body (Salt)
3. Life (Mercury)
So what Tom is doing is stealing Ginny's mercury â her life â he says as much:
But there isnât much life left in her [Ginny]. . . . She put too much into the diary, into me.
(CoS, page 289)
Now a life can only be used to create something equal to it â another life. If you want to bring someone who isn't alive (dead or unliving, like the diary) to life, you'll need another life to do it. It's a life-for-a-life scenario since in Alchemy everything works according to the law of equivalent exchange.
This law means all energy or components can only transform into something equal to it. If you want to cast a spell, you'll need to put magical energy in it equal to the effect you want to cause.
It's the same here. He kills Ginny and gets his own life in exchange for hers.
What somewhat bothers me about it is that he seems to have a body get created as well. Like, his current body (salt) is the diary itself, hence why when Harry stabbed it he died, but he was making himself a new one. The only way to do that, is to extert something of equal energy. In this case, I believe it was Ginny's magic. He wasn't just pulling out her life to create a life for himself he was pulling her magic to make him a body:
But there isnât much life left in her. . . . She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last. . . .
(CoS, page 289)
He says she put too much into the diary, not just life. I believe he was feeding on her magic too, which leads into the first part of your question.
I don't think he's necessarily more sentient. Like, I think all Horcruxes could be as sentient as the diary. And we see the locket become more sentient as the trio wears it. And I think that's the crux of it.
The Horcruxes seem to steal magic from their surroundings, which makes them more powerful and more sentient as a result. The diary spent years in Lucius Malfoyâs office, sucking up bits of magic from him and anyone else who visited that office. Then he had a whole year of Ginny (and Harry for a bit) writing to him. This all means he has plenty of magic to make him sentient.
The other Horcruxes, in contrast, didn't really have any human interaction until their destruction. Besides the locket, which we do see growing in sentience:
âThere was a locket.â
âWhat?â said Harry and Ron together.
âIn the cabinet in the drawing room. Nobody could open it...â
(DH, page 166)
No sentience in OoTP, nothing felt magical about the locket.
âCan you feel it, though?â Ron asked in a hushed voice, as he held it tight in his clenched fist.
âWhat dâyou mean?â
Ron passed the Horcrux to Harry. After a moment or two, Harry thought he knew what Ron meant. Was it his own blood pulsing through his veins that he could feel, or was it something beating inside the locket, like a tiny metal heart?
(DH, page 239)
After Umbridge wore it for a bit, it had more sentience. It has a heartbeat, it feels alive like it didn't before. Hermione doesn't mention this sense existing the first time, and that's because this pulse wasn't there.
She held out her hands, and Harry lifted the golden chain over his head. The moment it parted contact with Harryâs skin he felt free and oddly light. He had not even realized that he was clammy or that there was a heavy weight pressing on his stomach until both sensations lifted.
âBetter?â asked Hermione.
âYeah, loads better!â
(DH, page 249)
And the longer they wear it, the more effect the locket has. The more magic it has to become more sentient and influence the trio. Throughout Deathly Hollwos, the Horcrux becomes more powerful the longer they wear it:
Then something closed tight around his neck. He thought of water weeds, though nothing had brushed him as he dived, and raised his empty hand to free himself. It was not weed: The chain of the Horcrux had tightened and was slowly constricting his windpipe.
(DH, page 321)
The Horcrux was still swinging from Ronâs hand. The locket was twitching slightly. Harry knew that the ting inside it was agitated again. It had sensed the presence of the sword and had tried to kill Harry rather than let him possess it.
(DH, page 321)
Then a voice hissed out from the Horcrux.
âI have seen your heart, and it is mine.â
âDonât listen to it!â Harry said harshly. âStab it!â
âI have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible. . . . â
(DH, page 325)
So, I think it's all a matter of how much magic you feed the Horcrux.
#harry potter#harry potter thoughts#harry potter theory#hp theory#hollowedtheory#hp#hp thoughts#lord voldemort#voldemort#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle#horcruxes#horcrux#diary horcrux#asks#anon ask#anonymous#hp meta#harry potter meta
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Full Hunterâs Moon in Taurus âŠïž Moon Magick Pick A Card
I read around the Internet; it seems this yearâs Full Hunterâs Moon in Taurus is a big deal for all people, because it marks the end of a 2-year long cycle of Taurus-Scorpio eclipse. That cycle began in November 2021. So, if you could remember what specific misery started then, this yearâs eclipse is the end of that sufferingđBANZAI!đOr, for some people, an intense healing journey mightâve started then and this eclipse marks your full-recovery or something along those linesđ„°
Aenergetically, I feel that this Hunterâs Moon in Taurus is inviting us to take stock of many elements in our lives that no longer serve us. Thatâs such a clichĂ©, right? We do this every full moon anyway, but with this powerful eclipse, and it being in the Taurus-Scorpio axis, this releasing of old narratives extends far back into childhood conditioning. And in some cases, childhood traumas.
Taurus is the ruler of the 2nd House of personal autonomy and how we view ourselves in relationship to our immediate, closest environment: the family environment. This sign/house tells us how we perceive our individuality in relation to the grownups immediately near us, and how they perceive us. When elements of life ruled by this sign/house is afflicted, disregarded, ignored, dominated and manipulated, traumas in childhood develop andâŠ
Scorpio as the ruler of the 8th House of traumas can tell you a lot about ways you could pull yourself out of this loop of misery caused by terrible conditioning or bad parenting. Often, for many people, the development of new traumas continues to happen way into adulthood and so, when you carry a lot of pains, you will need to heal yourself over and over again until almost all of those layers of a false concept of your Self are taken down.
This full moon eclipse in the Taurus-Scorpio axis, I feel, brings immense relief from the maelstrom of a healing journey that is often quite world-shattering. I have faith that even now as youâre reading these words, many things in your worldâyour inner worldâare already calming down and the winter season will allow you plentiful of rest, before the spring of your Life begins again next yearđ±đđ
âChillâŠ
Youâre going to end up where youâre supposed to be.â
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Pile 1 â King of Your Own World
outdated patterns, DISSOLVED ïżœïżœ King of Pentacles
I sense youâve come from a very restrictive background. When you were growing up, parents or teachers were incredibly strict. They placed so much cruel expectations on you without caring for your feelings as a person. For some of you, this debilitating sense of restriction could also have come from religion, tradition, custom, race/ethnicity bullshit, and all such things. You felt like there were so many things you werenât supposed to do because you belonged to a certain religion or because of your ethnicity or whatever. Meanwhile, for the same reasons, ridiculous expectations on you were abound as well.
You constantly felt like the sky above your head was so low and you couldnât do anything about it. Naomi Campbellâs quote fits perfectly here: âThe sky has never been the limit. We are our own limits.â
Recently, youâve been able to overcome so much of this bullshit patterning from your childhood. I think youâve been working on this unravelling for a number of years. You are free now. Quite nothing is restricting you anymore; youâve figured out how the Matrix works. And now, youâre the King of your own Reality. What are you going to entertain and create in this brave new world of your own making? Your North Node sign and house placement will have some hints for you to know what options would make you feel the best about yourself in this incarnation!đ„°
authentic self, EMBRACED â 4 of Wands
In spite of all the conditioning you were subject to, youâre essentially a Soul whoâs always been rather clear about who you are on a fundamental level. Actually, you knew yourself, you knew what you liked, you knew what you wanted to become. But yeah, those restrictions put around your sky caused you to feel confused a lot. Or that you felt helpless on so many levels. What you wanted, what you knew you could be so good at, and what you were allowed to do⊠they seemed all to be separate circles.
But now, now that you are your own person, youâre reclaiming those bits and pieces of your authentic self that became dormant as you were trying to survive! They are all coming online one by one. For some of you, I feel old skills/abilities are going to get reactivated and this will point towards what youâre meant to do in this incarnation. For some others, you may suddenly gain insane skills you never knew you were capable of and this might shock you a lot. These are actually skills youâve polished in past incarnations. Theyâre coming back to help you ascend into New Earth more easily! This is your time to shine, baby!đ€
life purpose, EXPRESSED â 4 of Cups
Okay, letâs get to the real stuff here. For a lot of you reading this, I sense you may be occasionally dealing with stagnation or a sense of feeling absolutely stuck in the manifestation of your ideal world, ideal reality. Thereâs this feeling like, even though you know what youâre supposed to do as part of your Life Purpose, you feel like thereâs just no way you can build that bridge towards that life purpose at the present moment. Donât worry, honey, I promise you that you canât fuck up whatâs meant for you.
Many of you, youâre currently in that gestation phase where youâre supposed to gain a lot, A LOT, of spiritual strength before youâre ready to take on the world. Your path may sound unnecessarily tougher than other people, but itâs because you have a higher calling to be of service to your community. Maybe even the world, WHOA. Your experiences have shaped the amazing individual youâve become, and even now youâre still becoming even more awesome than you could ever imagine in the meantime.
You are where youâre supposed to be. Learn as much as you can, enjoyably. Breathe as deeply as you can, enjoyably. Play your videos games. Watch your favourite series. Arenât you aware youâre having so much time on your hand now to be building new positive habits, too? All of these seemingly unrelated activities are leading you towards your Life Purpose; embrace everything nice and calm that you have now. It is going to get wild sooner than you realise!đ
full moon self-caređ»đđđđđđđ
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Pile 2 â Comfortable New World
outdated patterns, DISSOLVED â 5 of Cups Rx
Not to touch on conspiracy theories, but if thereâs a new world order on a microcosmic scale, youâre having it all to yourself XD You are dissolving an old world order that involves mental lethargy and a general sense of spiritual confusion, which I think youâve needed to deal with for almost your entire Life. I sense, for many of you this was caused by a very traumatic childhood in which you were constantly, systematically let down by the people around you, or your environment in general. It feels like, you were never given what you wanted, what you needed; whatever you asked, if you asked, you would be granted its non-delivery.
I think you had toxic parents? Grandparents? Maybe teachers? Just incredibly venomous adults who actually saw your potential for success, and so, they deliberately attempted to murder your Light from a very young age. At this point of reading, I think youâre healing and transitioning into more peaceful waters by your own conscience. Iâm sure youâve worked really hard to heal yourself, work on your inner demons, defeated negative thought patterns that werenât even your own, and created new neurological pathways all on your own. Youâve successfully made the unconscious conscious. You have better control over your own emotions, thoughts, choices and conducts now. Congratulations!đ
authentic self, EMBRACED â 3 of Pentacles Rx
Before this point, you were probably a people-pleaser of sort, right? You thought too much about other people and I think you were conditioned to think that self-love or prioritising yourself is incredibly selfish. That choosing to live Life on your own terms was incredibly selfish! The adults around you were probably the type of parents that would say, young people choosing not to have babies is incredibly selfish! Whereas such adults are choosing so precisely because they donât want to bring into this miserable world babies that are unloved and unwanted. Thatâs all gaslighting, you know that, right?
With this energy, Iâm seeing you choosing to cultivate solitude for the time being. Youâve finally been able to tap into this consciousness of calm and harmony. You are in rest and recuperation mode for both your mental and spiritual. You are not yet ready to connect with people. Right now, itâs time to build a deeper connection with yourself, perhaps your inner child and all the things that make you feel joyous from the inside. This is also your time to feel more connected to the Planet herself as well as understand your unbreakable bond with the Cosmos itself. If you ask me, I think youâre currently in a really good stage where youâre being led to your best Life as of yet!đ
life purpose, EXPRESSED â 2 of Pentacles Rx
As of right now, your Spirit Guides and Higher Self are sending you many synchronistic messages that give you a clearer idea as to what your next steps should be. Itâs perfectly OK to be casual and relaxed about them though. You are not at all in a rush. Even when you see these YouTube readings that say crap like URGENT MESSAGES FROM THE UNIVERSE, no, youâre not in a rush anywhere. Your new world order is gestating right now and you can be patient with yourself. Those types of titles are just for the algorithm or for grabbing your attention, but in reality, there is no such thing as the Universe or Higher Self or Spirit rushing you towards anything. You canât fuck up whatâs meant for you, trust that.
When you allow the process of your new world of comfort to unfold naturally, in the future, you will always know when to make the right decision for almost every life choice you will be making. You will be guided more by your intuition and so, whatever choice you make will reflect the highest good of you and those you care about. Thatâs the spiritual lesson youâre learning as of right now and I think itâs such a wonderful stage to be in! Trust that youâre being prepared by your Higher Self to receive so much abundance and joy in the next chapter of your Life. Youâve come so farđ
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Pile 3 â Bittersweet Transition Into the Light
outdated patterns, DISSOLVED â 6 of Pentacles
In spite of the title, I feel that your transition into the Light is actually a pretty lighthearted one! More like, all the rough times are over, for realz for realz. Youâve been to the depths of hell and returned safely; scathed, yes, but youâre still alive, so youâve won! For this Pile, I feel like you mightâve been attracted to the other piles, too, and they contain insights about the kind of struggles youâve had to deal with. But if you feel that this Pile is your main pile, youâve literally crossed over many bridges and the Light is dawning fast on you! Youâre travelling at light speed towards a world of your ideal!
If up until now youâve been the character who receives help and charity from other people, soon youâll finally embrace a transcendent version of yourself with which youâll be the one sharing your riches and knowledge! You are now the enviable main character but without the envy⊠hopefully XD But those who are actually envious of your transformation or success are not your people, so I hope you know how to protect yourself from the beady eyes of those who will be seeking to harm you in the future if you let them!
authentic self, EMBRACED â 7 of Cups
For the most part, Iâm sensing that you didnât necessarily come from extreme poverty or anything like that. But the manifestation of your dreams has been nothing short of difficult damn near impossible at times. I hope you understand now that this has been your script only because the things that you want to see manifest in this world are so precious, pure and high-vibrational that Earth herself was not ready to assist their manifestations. Do you understand? Often we hear about needing to raise our frequencies so become a vibrational match to our higher desires. But what happens when our desires are SO high-vibrational Earth herself couldnât contain those dreams? LMAO
So it was that the collective of Mankind needed to collectively raise their frequencies enough for your time to come. It may sound weird to some people but I didnât make the rules, hon, so just take these words, I promise you it will make sense soon enough XD And with that said, have faith that you will see all that youâve ever dreamt of manifest in the physical. Never lose your sight on the prize and donât settle for less; youâre meant to see it all happenđ
life purpose, EXPRESSED â 5 of Pentacles
Do you perhaps have significant Capricorn, Scorpio or Aquarius influences in your birth chart? These three, in all of the zodiac signs deal the most with a sense of restriction (Capricorn), ridiculously dangerous people/situations and traumas (Scorpio), as well as a disturbing sense of not belonging anywhere in the world (Aquarius). These energies tend to be really difficult to navigate through, but thereâs always a great prize to be had when youâre through! Essentially, you needed to go through your experiences to really understand how poverty mindset works or how itâs developed in the first place. Poverty mindset can deal with many things beyond just the conception of money.
It is part of your lifeâs blueprint to come in touch with it, transmute it via first-hand experience, and dissolve it for all of Mankind. It is part of your Life Purpose to help other people learn to overcome this lack mindset on their own. You donât necessarily need to become a teacher, but through your own example, or your self-expression whatever it may be, you help others realise their beggar patterns and tendencies. This energy is reminding me of both Bob Marley and Bob Ross though as you can see, their expressions or styles were very different from each other, but they showed people there was more to Life than just numbers in your bank account and that there is so much joy in giving and sharing your gifts with the world. That at the end of the day, what truly matters is Love and whatâs truly exciting is charity to othersđ
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#Moon Panda Pick A Pic#full moon#full moon in taurus#revolution#evolution#punk#youth#culture#trauma healing#childhood trauma#pick a card#pick a card reading#tarot pick a card#pac#pac reading#tarot pac#tarot community#tarot reader#tarotblr#tarot#mental health
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Hello Lady Duane! đ (I feel that if we can call Neil Sir Gaiman, you certainly deserve a title as well!)
I've wanted to tell you for ages now that you are one of my absolute favourite Trek authors, have been since I first read some of your novels over a decade ago as a teen - my parents and I have about? 4 or 5 copies of The Doctor's Orders between us, German and English alike (my dad even bought a copy to keep at the office for reading during his lunch breaks). The Wounded Sky is another one of my favourite Trek novels â€ïž
My sister and I also occasionally watch old Barbie movies for the nostalgia. So when we watched Fairytopia a few months ago, we found out that you had written the script for the movie! I literally let out a happy yell when I saw you show up in the opening credits and went "omg, it's Diane Duane!!" That was so unexpected but also very delightful! đ
And now, thanks to you being on tumblr as well, I found out about your other novels and bought your ebook bundle the other day. :D I'm currently a bit over halfway through So You Want to Be a Wizard and I just wanted to let you know that I'm enjoying it so very much!! â€ïž
Thank you for all the wonderful words over the years! It continues to be a joy! đđ
Hi there!
Regarding titles: Well, okay... as long as everybody's clear that as a US citizen, titles are usually off the menu for me. (As an Irish one, not so muchâthe government can approve the use of them if it likesâthough the neighbors'd snicker at me down the pub.) Anyway: I accept gratefully.* Though yelling "Yo, Trekkie!" might well be just as effective. :)
I'm glad you've enjoyed my Trek work! It's always been very satisfying to do. The chance to actually write professionally in what was my main fandom (after Holmes) during my late teen years has been a most unexpectedâwhen I got startedâand extraordinary thing.
And as for Fairytopia: That was a lot of fun too, and also unexpected. My agent just called me up one morning and said "How are you about Barbie...?" and I said, "Well, okay I guess, I had the usual number of them!" âand we were off. The Mattel people were fabulous to work with, and I look back on that whole project with affection.
Meanwhile, I'm delighted you're having fun with the first of the Young Wizards books! There are plenty more of them in that package (still discounted) that conform to the new timeline, which now launches in 2008 rather than the mid 1980s. (Book 10 of the series didn't need that treatment, and so isn't available in a revised edition.)
Anyway: thanks for letting me know. It's always nice to find out that I'm getting the job done. :)
*But also: according to the usual protocols, Neilâwhen they finally get around to knighting him, probably when a more literature- and intelligence-friendly government takes overâwill properly be "Sir Neil": as UK knighthood's an acknowledgement of the person, not the family, and knights are therefore addressed by their first names. (Not to fret: people from both sides of the Water sometimes get this detail backwards.)
(...Be fun if they stuck him straight into the Lords, though. Usually, if you don't want to use your last name in your lordship's title, you can select the name of someplace in the UK that has personal meaning for you. Seeing Neil ennobled as Lord Neverwhere would be a trip.) :)
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Do you know fics where Draco fights for Harry? Doesnt have to be entire fic I just notice usually around the climax of the fic its Harry that makes the grant gesture to get his man; i want Harry to be fought for đđ
Hi anon! I definitely have some recs for that one, hope you enjoy these đ
Like Gold by @the-sinking-ship (E, 4k)
Draco runs away from home on the back of his boyfriendâs motorbike.
Be Still by @writcraft (E, 5k)
Harryâs back in England and Draco tries to fix things before he disappears again.
(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)
Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.
Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by dicta_contrion (E, 31k)
Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.
All Roads by @korlaena (M, 36k)
Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when heâs assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesnât want to face the truth about himself, but heâs stuck between Harry and his duty, and heâs out of options.
In The Red by @bixgirl1 (E, 45k)
When Harry goes looking for a vampire at a Creature club, the second-to-last thing Harry expects is to find Malfoy working there. The last thing he expects is to fall in love with him.
Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)
Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.
Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)
It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.
Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)
Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesnât much think about what heâs trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska. Years of hard work have culminated in an opportunity to work with an experimental wandmaker to study the intersection of Healing and wand theory. When Draco arrives, he doesn't find the wandmaker, but does find his apprentice, who happens to have ridiculously messy hair, a lightning bolt scar, and a definitely-not-charming smile.
I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)
Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.
Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship (E, 135k)
Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. Heâd stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals.
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Halloween (w.m)
Just to update the book message me if you have a request đ
WandaxG!P ReaderÂ
i know the picture isnt halloween or wanda but this is how she looks ok lmao just go with it.
Y/ns POV:
"Nat help me please I don't know what to dress up as I can't even match with wanda because she won't tell me her costume" I pout as I slump back on the chair of the store we're in as she laughs at me "y/n calm down we have plenty of time we'll find you something to wear" I sit up looking at Natasha "dude what about scarface just a simple black suit open shirt and cute hat to tie it off" she looks at me like she's thinking the idea over "hmm yeah that could work" she smirks as we look for the perfect suit after an hour we're finally done "I HATE shopping" I say with an over exaggerated tone acting over dramatic "you're such a child y/n" she laughs as she pushes me making me laugh "let's go get coffee" I pout god Inever knew I needed an iced coffee till now "yessssssss I'm in let's go hoee" she says with excitement to her tone we head to starbucks both of us chatting about what we think tonight's party will turn into Tony will go over the top like always.Â
Wandas POV:
I lay back on my bed letting out a groan as I run my hands over my face "wanda it's OK it's not THAT short just don't bend over" Maria says with a deep laugh "I know I wanted a slutty bunny but don't you think this is to much if I bend over even a little everyone will get a show my tits are practically spilling out I just don't know if I should go for something a little more safe" I sigh as Maria sits beside me "wanda it's fine you look sexy as fuck just imagine y/ns face as you walk into the party" I bite my lip as the thought of my girlfriend laying eyes on me enters my mind mmmh fuck she'll loose her shit I wonder how long I can tease her before she rips what little material there is off my body and fucks me senseless "eww wanda your thinking about her seeing you in that a little to hard" she says with a laugh snapping me out of my thoughts making me laugh "thanks for helping me Maria I'd have gave up like 2 hours ago" I say as she gives me a smile "don't mention it wands always here to help, so what do you think y/n will come as tonight" I look at her and sit on the edge of the bed "I honestly don't know she didn't give me any ideas we said we'd keep eachothers as a surprise but I know she'll look amazing' I smile as I think of y/n.
Y/ns POV:
That coffee was amazing just what I needed I'm currently waiting outside starbucks as Nat pays for some cakes to take back to the compound "want me to carry them" I say as Nat walks towards me with cakes in hand she laughs and shakes her head "no y/n it's OK but thank you" I nod and we walk back to the car the drive back to the compound is fast and full of laughter I quickly jump up and get the cakes from the trunk as Nat tries to get them first "ha I got them" I say with a proud smile as we walk inside to an empty looking compound I walk to the kitchen putting the cakes down and head upstairs "hello is anyone even home" I yell after a minute wanda runs from our room straight into my arms "babyyy I missed you did you find a costume" I spin her a little as I squeeze her "I did I did honey I can't wait to see your costume tonight though" I say with a smile as I place her down and kiss her lips it started as a sweet innocent kiss but soon turned passionate and lustful I pin her to the wall as I make my way to her neck kisses and sucking as she moans pulling me closer to her "mhh baby make me feel good" she whispers I smirk and grip her hips as I suck her sweet spot making sure I leave my mark "right here baby in the hallway" I moan against her neck as my hand sides up her top instantly finding her perky tits with no bra covering them I play with her nipples as she bites her lip and nods "words slut" I smirk as she moans when she gets sloppy like this wanting to fuck in risky places she loves when I'm rough and speak to her like that and honestly it's such a turn on when she's acting like a desperate slut "fuckkkk baby please just fuck me right here right now before anyone comes up here" I bite my lip and moan as I push her back against the wall dropping to my knees pulling her shorts down I look up a ther with an eyebrow raised "no panties maximoff " I smirk as I advert my eyes back to her dripping core I rub my thumb over her clit biting my lip as she moans at the touch I lean in placing gentle kisses over her clit her moans are music to my ears and enough to make my not so little friend downstairs wake up I quickly stand up and turn her pressing her face against the wall "mhhh baby so sexy when your acting like a desperate slut for me" she moans as I unzip my pants pushing them down as my dick springs out to action "I need you baby stop teasing and fuck me" she groans, I smirk and slap her ass as I grab her hips and fix her to where I want her I spread her legs looking down moaning at my perfect girlfriend I grab my cock and step closer as I run my tip through her dripping folds causing both of us to moan at the contact "so fucking wet honey" I gently begin to push my dick inside her tight cunt as a string of moans leave her mouth "uh shit yessso..big...fuckkk y/n" she moans a little to loud but I don't even care who hears at this point I grab her hips and slam deep inside her tight cunt as she screams in pleasure and I moan as I lean my head back giving her a chance to adjust to my size
"fuck babygirl I love the way your pussy grips my dick" I groan I start to thrust slowly enjoying the sounds my girlfriend is making "fa...faster" she whimpers out I smirk and slap her ass as I pull almost all the way out and slam deep inside her cunt causing her to scream"so good" she says as her eyes roll her legs start to shake letting me know I'm hitting the right places I pick up my pace thrusting deeper and faster fuck I wish I could see her tits bounce as I fuck her, I lean in and gently bite her shoulder as I quicken my thrust the sound of her wet cunt and our skin slapping is all that can be heard if anyone comes near they'll definitely hear, I smirk the thought of getting caught turning me on more I continue my brutal pounding as she turns into a drooling mess legs shaking I feel my orgasm approach as she let's out a scream her walls gripping my cock "I'm I'm fuckkkk I'm cumming" she breaths out as I continue to thrust faster after a few more thrusts I slam deep inside her shooting my load deep in her tight little cunt I lean my head forward against her back as we both try and regain our composure "so fucking good princess' I moan against her back as she only nods in agreement "you want me to carry you to our bedroom princess" I giggle leaving kisses along her shoulder "mhhh yes please" she whispers in a sweet sleepy voice I slide out of my girlfriend earning a moan from both of us I fix my pants as I lean down and fix wandas shorts pulling them up I pick her up and walk along to our bedroom as she cuddles into me "I love you y/n" she whispers in a sleepy voice I smile and rub her back "I love you too princess, come on let's get a nap before we need to get ready for the party we have a few hours and when we get up ill run you a nice bath" she just mumbles a mhh mhhh making me giggle I open our door and head inside closing at as I place wanda down she instantly crawls under the covers and looks at me with sleepy eyes "baby come cuddle" my heart glows at the sight and I climb into bed cuddling up with wanda I quickly set an alarm for 2 hours from now that takes us to 4pm plenty of time to get ready I look down at wanda who looks so content cuddled up to me and smile "you own my heart princess" I lean down placing a gentle kiss on her head before falling asleep with a smile.Â
AN: Just a little update for yall this will have a part 2 which I will do laterâșïžhope everyone's having a great day/night remember all feedback is welcome good or bad and requests as always are very much open đ word count just over 1.6kÂ
#elizabeth olsen#lizzie olsen#fanfic#mcu#oneshot#mcu fanfiction#marvel mcu#wattpad#smut#lizzieislife94x#wanda maximoff#mommy wanda#wanda marvel#wanda mcu#wandavision#wanda x reader#wanda x you#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximommy#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda smut
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Can I please ask for a fem!reader with Rain (from Ghost) where he comforts, cuddles, engulfs her on a bad day? Today's not the best day for me and I could really need a little comfort and there's nothing more helpful to me then being crushed in a BIG, LONG hug and Rain seems like the perfect person to do that đ
Thank you so much đ
im sorry you feel bad :[ hope you feel better! hereâs a soft rain drabble!
✠àŒâ àŒ”âÛ°ââ§âÛ°â àŒ”âàŒ àŒ”âÛ°ââ§âÛ°â àŒ”â
â rain ghoul x female reader
summary: rain cheers you up with some cuddles
the smell of petrichor.
✠àŒâ àŒ”âÛ°ââ§âÛ°â àŒ”âàŒ àŒ”âÛ°ââ§âÛ°â àŒ”â
Ghouls have always been very perceptive creatures. By smell alone they know how someone is feeling at that current moment. Recently you havenât been feeling the best mentally. The days seem to drag on and all you seem to want to do is curl up in your bed and sleep.
Youâve always struggled with mental health. Some days were better than others but sometimes when the bustling of your fellow siblings of the abbey was too much and overstimulating you opted to hide in a secluded spot in the library or the your bedroom in the dorm building.
Rain took notice, so did the other ghouls but they left you alone for the most part, knowing you needed some space to clear your head and sort out your feelings. Yet three ghoulettes were often seen around you, escorting you away, bringing you food and snacks. Reminding you to drink plenty of water and so on.
But not today, as you were hidden away in the library, trying to catch up on some readings. Yet you couldnât focus. Spacing out between sentences, staring off into the distance until you tried to force yourself to continue reading. It was no use of course.
With a sigh you closed the book in your hands, sitting up right and packing your think into you satchel. A loud roar of thunder startled you, stopping you in your tracks. Peeking outside the window, the sky was more darkened by the storm clouds than they were when you first entered the library an hour ago. Rain now hit the glass harshly.
Frustratingly rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands you sunk lower in your chair. Great, now you were stuck in the library for who knows how long. You really wanted to hide away in your room for a while. No one seemed to be in the library, not even the four sisters who work at the front desk.
They were prepared for the storm, it looks like. Unlike you. Who just wanted to be curled up in your blankets and sleep away any sadness you had left. Now you were sitting in the silence of the old library with nothing but your thoughts to torment you.
Until the sound of the door opening startled you once more from your pitiful state on the cushioned chair.
âY/n?â The sound of Rains timid voice echoed from the walls. âI noticed you werenât in your room and I wanted me to go look for you.â Ever so considerate of the water ghoul, a small smile appeared on your face. The sound of his footsteps got closer until he rounded the corner into your little hideaway. Mask still on his head, the top of his shirt damp from the rain outside.
âI know you arenât okay, is there anything I can do?â He asked when he got closer, kneeling down in front of you, head tilted to the side.
âHold me?â Was all you could muster. And with no hesitation, Rain scooped you up in his arms and held you close to his chest. The wetness of his shirt didnât bother you as you nuzzled into his neck taking in his natural scent of petrichor. Not too far from what it must smell like outside at this moment.
âYou can sleep if you want, I wonât wake you.â He mumbled into your hair, kissing you on tour hairline. Mumbling a barely audible âThank youâ you made yourself comfortable on his lap, thankful you dragged the comfiest chair into your little spot in the library. Not long after Rain started purring, the rumble in his chest lulling you into a peaceful slumber, held safely to his chest with you arms wrapped around his middle.
#rain ghoul x reader#nameless ghouls x reader#nameless ghoul x reader#the band ghost x reader#ghost band x reader#my work#the band ghost
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Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part IV
warnings: violence, blood, mistakes, badly written British speech, I got some inspiration from The Rookie for the undercover part
P.S. I loved Frenchie from The Boys and I just couldnât help myself. Apologies đ
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI
- the fourth time you meet itâs no longer up to chance but up to your discretion
- the last mission scored you one of the most prized rewards in your field: a golden ticket; basically you get permission to retire from your field an choose another with less risk and a larger pay check, a âthank you gift cardâ from the director of the MI6, the King and England herself; itâs a type of mobility many dream of, having checked off the bucket list almost dying in al sorts of crazy situations and the young adventurous attitude toward danger having morphed into a veteran hesitant mentality; you are given plenty of time to decide where you want to go     Â
- a month later you hear rumours of a task force newly formed, one-four-one theyâd call it; cheesy you think not really giving anymore attention; and then the briefing about some partnership between under cover specialised agents and this mystery task force for a top tier mission; you think about it, you havenât had any action in three months now and anymore desk work will drive you up a wall if it continues; you skim over the file on the task force with disinterest, mostly because task forces like these were made up of brutes, eager to pick fights with the enemy and partially because most of the words had been redacted; a few are left out in the open among the sea of black ink: task force, covert mission, high-performance, low collateral casualties, you hum in thought
- what makes you not only volunteer with a manic grin, but actually consider having found the place for your relocation; under the captainâs name John Price, follow three more names; the last two are unknown to you and unimportant, two Sergeants, one John âSoapâ MacTavish, and another Kyle âGazâ Garrick; but the one is impossible to mistake: Lt. Ghost; no first name, no last name; the only person whose file you ever read to bear that name.
- your application for the mission gets accepted almost instantly your reputation proceeding you almost any briefing room now; youâre informed that youâll depart within the hour and other things you need to know about it; nothing really matters as you know youâll get the chance to confront that knobhead that has plagued all your waking hours and some dreams with his obscure choice of words as you departed;
- youâre ready in 30, not really owning much and usually being moved from HQ to HQ, or base, or house within small time frames, which doesnât allow for many personal things anyway; you wait in the shade, dragging from a cigarette, to pass the time, until the heli lands on the heli-pad; you donât get to wait much, the pilot is here a little early; good; you donât like to wait
- the flight is short the base not, far from the MI6 HQ; you pass the time reading a book you took, some title that caught your attention at the library across the street of where you usually buy cigarettes; the story doesnât raise to your expectations, the writing style is mediocre and the characters have as much depth as a glass of water; you contemplate throwing it out the window, but refrain when the pilot announces ETA: less than 5; you hum heart beating a little quicker at the excitement you feel for finally being able to decipher the meaning behind those blood words
- as soon as the heli touches down on tarmac youâre out the door, no words of goodbye to the pilot; heâs used to itâ
- the welcoming committee consists of the two Sergeants, now finally connecting faces to the names you read on the files; theyâre casual in your attitude towards you which is a little invigorating, but they wouldnât drop the âmaâamâ; theyâll get over it; youâre probably a little older than them
- John âSoapâ MacTavish is chatty Scott, whoâs a little to nosy for your liking, but within reasonable limits; youâre not sure if is actually trying to charm the pants off of you or thatâs just how he is usually, throwing compliments left and right, but those have no effect on you and slide right off without much care; he sports an unusual haircut for some of the strictest branches of army thatâs ever existed, SAS you see the patch on his shoulder, and a wacky tattoo representing the Task Force 141 insignia on his huge forearm
- Kyle âGazâ Garrick is almost opposite to âSoapâ, heâs more laid back, observing more than talking, making small comments when the Scottâs cascade off words gets interrupted, chuckling at his comrade poor attempts at complimenting you; heâs not as well built as Soap, but he stands a couple inches taller than you
- âHeâs always like that?â you direct your attention to âGazâ as the two of them walk in front of you like two loyal guard dogs
- âYes maâam, though he getâs easier to ignore with time.â You both chuckle, a huge disservice to the Scott that protests âOiâ followed by a 'What's that suppose tae mean?' in the thickest Scottish accent youâve had the chance to hear
- âYouâre bothersome, bruv.â Soap hits Gazâs shoulder in brotherly fashion and the playful banter begins; you tune them up, and think about finally getting to change out of your civilian clothes and into something blacker, more unflattering and less eye catching than the light blue skinny jeans that have managed to flare out more than one whistle as you passed; arseholes and jar-heads come to the forefront of your mind
- youâre led first to your room and left there with the promise that one of them, most likely Soap, cause he already volunteered to do it, will come collect you for the briefing before supper
- youâre left alone to install, unpack, get changed and unwind from the irksome travel and the fact that you are being watched like deer in the headlights, fresh faces always attract the interest of the crowd in places like this
- the walk towards the briefing room is short but Soap manages to pour so many words in that interval that youâre almost sure heâs going to run out; once inside Soapâs chatter dies down and you make eye contact with the captain
- John Price gives off the energy of a strong father figure, his facial hair adding to his age; he not much older than you but the stress of leadership is visible on his face, eyes winged with crowâs feet; he gives a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod as you and the sergeant enter; he waits for Gaz to join you before he begins the briefing
-Â Â as for the hulking beast of a man, clad in black, brown eyes surrounded by black army issued face paint and hidden behind that grotesque mask of his, oh no, you havenât miss him, just ignored him; you felt his gaze burning your skin, searching for eye contact, which you vehemently denied; suffer just like I did, bloke
- Gaz comes in and is witness to the unthinkable; you the new face, pretty one might say without lying, so much different from these hardened man, more in common with the civvies than them, go and sit right next to Ghost, no space left in between the two of you; and whatâs even crazier, you donât acknowledge him; Soap and Gaz share a look; the captain seems amused by your actions and the sergeants confusion; no one, absolutely no-fucking-body ever sat next to Ghost, willingly and without starring dumbly and frightened at him; no one, never
- you take your seat, and place your notebook and pen neatly in front of you, facing the whiteboard as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened; the two chaps sit down slowly, eyes trained on you half expecting you to realize your mistake and jump out of the chair; but you surprise them once again when you finally decide to meet the glare directed at you head on and to crack a smirk at the lieutenant
- their minds are blown, mouth open in disbelief, they glance at one another; their minds are set, you get labelled as the agent who clearly lost their mind somewhere in some gone wrong mission; theyâll bombard you with questions later
- as for Ghost, heâs as still as puma waiting to spring to attack; if looks could kill, youâd be disintegrated to the last atom; youâre as unbothered as a new born foal, unaware of its impending doom
- Price clears his voice, catching your attention and diminishing the tension that clouds around the semicircle table
- he makes an introduction for you, stating the reason youâre here, and what youâre specialized in: undercover espionage; you give a nod to all the men
- on a laptop in the furthermost side of the table a connection is established and a blonde American woman greets you; sheâs CIA, their handler and yours for the upcoming mission; you have no qualms to work with the other most prominent intelligence agency, the one from over the pond, as long as you get to do your job as you know best; you feel the respect the men have for her and the fondness in the captainâs eyes once they greet each other; theyâre old friends, that much you can tell  Â
- you decide youâll respect Kate Laswell and trust her, as much as one can trust when one builds their carrier on lying to others and distrusting everyone; sheâs pleasant so far, familiar with the men, and cuts straight to the chase just how you like it
- the target is one drug overlord who decided to take things up a notch and deal in arms with terrorists; the goal: disrupt the block-chain and cut the heads off the snakes; simple enough nothing that you havenât tackled before
- youâre given green light to propose how to approach and infiltrate this business; you explain that you have to get quite high in their hierarchy if you want a shot at real damage; you skim over the information available on his deals: fentanyl, the most recent drug thatâs flooded the streets; you know how to âcookâ it from a previous cartel you took down; youâll enter as just that âa cookerâ, but youâll also need a bodyguard to make yourself seem more important, but more on that later; you point out the name of the current one, the first target
- if you manage to get that person out of the game, youâll have a chance to fill that spot, maybe the most important chain link in the whole operation
- you already have in mind the persona youâll assume, a chemistry drop-out that took to cooking drugs; you know that your skills far surpass the targetâs and you know how to cook a purer form of fentanyl; as for your bodyguardsâ: a crook; fresh out of prison on the lookout for work that pays well; one with knowledge of guns and explosives, surely to pique the terrorist cellâs interest in their skill
- Soap offers for the role, impressed so far with your knowledge and method of operating; youâre through, and heâd like to learn more on infiltration; you agree hearing heâs got what it takes to be convincing enough
- Laswell, Price and Gaz all hum in agreement at your plan waiting to hear their part in it; simple: Laswell can help with credentials and all the raw materials youâll need to pull this off; Gaz, the captain and Ghost will be your back up, providing fire power
- the first target is easy to take down: heâs a middle-aged creep, who likes pretty young women and heavy drinks, parties like heâs twenty not fifty something; they already have info on his preferred hotspots; youâll go in lure him out for the men to bag him and make him disappear
- everyone agrees so far adding small details here and there; itâs only your first few hours or so and every single one understands why youâre held in so high regard; itâs all warranted
- Ghost is the only one who hasnât said anything, allowing you to direct the briefing, already know youâre more than capable and have far more experience with such delicate planning
- once everything is settled you start planning out the preparations youâll need to make beforehand; Soap will train under your supervision; you point out he already looks the part, a delinquent; the comment lacks any trace of ill intent, but everyone canât help but chuckle at his huff of indignation followed by â âM notâ; you sweeten the deal praising his charming nature and easy-going attitude; he smiles at that but itâs short lived by your next comment
- âYou'll do fine as long as you let me do the talking. I doubt you calling anyone 'bonnie lass' will get you very far.â That gets everyone to let out a chuckle, everyone knowing Soaps anticks; even Ghost lets out a grunt reminiscent of a laugh; the bruised ego Scott follows up with a âPish offâ thatâs met with laughter from you; you let the insult roll off in good humour
- the briefing ends, Laswell disconnects, and the rest of you stand up to make your way to the mess hall in time for dinner; Price holds you back, and you obey; you talk a little, mostly him, praises fly at you, for good planning, attention to details and overall how well you managed to fit in with them in such a short time; you thank him, having heard this all the time; you try, really hard, to be pliant and easy to work with; no need to be a hard-ass; youâre all on the same side
- he agrees with your well-spoken point of view; but he canât help but ask whatâs the deal with you and Ghost
- âWorked together before. We get along well.â Your answer seems to put at ease some of his worries about the teams chemistry; with that out of the way he leads you to the mess hall where he gets you to sit with them at the table; you can feel everyone elseâs eyes on you as the new face of the 141âs; but you ignore them chatting with âyourâ team; you kind of like the sound of that; you can quite imagine working along side them for the rest of your carrier, however short, as you know the death rates among undercover agents grow the further they go; very few get to retire in one piece, actually you can count them on one hand, at least the ones they tell you about at the academy
Previous part here.
Next part here.
#cod mw2#cod x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley fanfic#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost x oc#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#cod headcanons#ghost headcanons
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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 23)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 24
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Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo
Words: 12,675
Summary: Itâs been more than a year since Madrid and even longer since the chaos of Colombia. As they settle into a new life in Laredo, their past no longer holding them back, Javierâs career change helps him reconnect with his roots whilst Horacioâs plans for the future of the farm and ranch start to take shape.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut (including leather/cowboy kink and power dynamics), grief, parental loss, religious themes and symbolism, discussions of period-typical prejudices/violence/politics/legislation, smoking, drinking, swearing.
Notes: Well, here we are at the final full chapter đ No one is more shocked than me that I've made it here tbh đ For so long, it felt like finishing this fic was an abstract concept, but somehow, I persevered!
I don't really know what else to say right now, other than, an epilogue will (all being well) be posted on Friday 1st March...exactly 3 years after I posted chapter 1. Don't ask me how 3 years have passed, because my brain cannot compute lol.
The epilogue will be much, much shorter than this chapter, but I think it rounds their story off nicely and I can't wait to share â€ïž
Thank you once again to anyone still reading, or anyone who may read this at some point in the future. As always, comments/flailings/key smashes etc. are greatly appreciated đ
Iâve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested (and there's plenty to choose from for this oneâŠin fact, I had to split my trivia post into two as I ran out of space, oops lol).
Chapter 23: Desde La Frontera
As the faded blue truck pulled up in the front yard, the moon sat full and high, casting a pale glow over everything beneath it. A key turned in the lock of the sleeping cottage, the silver hue from above illuminating a convenient pathway, negating the need to switch on a light.
Javier shrugged off his boots and jacket in the kitchen with a weary sigh and deposited his keys in a dish on the table. The hand-painted ceramic bowl had been sent with love from Madrid as a housewarming gift, along with framed artwork of the city they left behind that hung above their bed, a bottle of olive oil, a small jar of saffron, and some homemade turrĂłn.
It wasnât easy saying goodbye to Señora Romero, the cafĂ© or their apartment. For all of the unanswered questions they arrived in Spain with, it became their safe haven. Although they were under strict instructions not to leave it too long before visiting again, and who were they to turn down good company and an endless supply of hot, fresh churros?
The rustic limestone cottage had less square footage than the farmhouse next door but was over two stories rather than one. A decked porch ran along the perimeter with wooden chairs and plants at the front, facing a complex of outbuildings and stables. A swing seat big enough for two resided at the back, looking out onto a medium-sized garden with a chicken coop and the rolling farm fields and river bank lying beyond.
The front door opened into a hallway where boots, coats and hats were tidily stored â at Horacioâs insistence â which led to a spacious kitchen/dining area and an adjoining utility room with a door to the garden on the other side. A second hallway branched off the kitchen towards a lounge with a centrepiece stone fireplace and a staircase up to two bedrooms â a master and a smaller spare â and a bathroom.
Whilst the interior still needed some work, fresh coats of paint â off-white for most of the rooms with splashes of eggshell green in the kitchen â and the exposed ceiling beams restored with an oak oil stain gave the place a new lease of life.
The wall clock opposite the kitchen window ticked past 3:00am. Fuck, no wonder Javier felt so beat. He manoeuvred his way upstairs, slow and careful, to avoid the creakiest boards. They may have stripped and waxed the floors, but that apparently didnât cure the squeaking of the well-worn wood underfoot.
He must have succeeded on this occasion, as it wasnât until he got to the top that he was met with Lunaâs wagging tail. He whispered a greeting to her and rubbed behind her ears until she returned to her sleeping spot beside Sol and Leo, who hadnât even stirred. Sometimes, the trio would bed down for the night here. Other times, it was just Luna. Rarely, it was none of them now that they had two new rivals for Chuchoâs affections next door.
Kira was a six-month-old Great Pyrenees, her thick coat a solid white with pale tan patches. Fuego, a male copper red and white Border Collie, was a couple of months older and already chomping at the bit to get amongst the cattle. Although they both still had to undergo a lot of training before they would be put to use on the ranch, Javier and Horacio got the distinct impression Chucho enjoyed being kept on his toes again.
Javier finally reached his destination but gave himself an extra few seconds to take in the view.
Horacio was nestled beneath their sheets on his stomach, his torso rising and falling in a calming rhythm that Javier was convinced could have lulled him to sleep if he wasnât standing up.
He undressed, throwing every item of clothing straight into a rattan hamper in the corner of the room, keenly aware he needed to shower but too tired to do anything about it now.
Instead, he perched on the edge of the bed, basking in Horacioâs long eyelashes, rough stubble and unrulier-than-usual hair that was tantalisingly close to becoming a head of curls if he didnât get it cut soon. Not that Javier was complaining.
He tried to be restrained and let Horacio sleep, but he was only human.
A faint groggy sound came from Horacioâs throat as delicate lips met his forehead, his lashes flickering until they couldnât resist any longer.
Javier hushed as he gently crawled on the bed, draping himself over Horacio and kissing the nape of his neck. âSorry itâs so fucking late. Just go back to sleep.â
âYouâre making that difficult right now.â Horacio arched his back in response to the warm breath tickling his bare skin as Javierâs mouth worked between muscular shoulder blades.
âShouldnât be so irresistible.â
âSorry about that.â
âNo, youâre not.â
âNo. Iâm not.â Horacio twisted around far enough for Javier to slide off his back and onto the mattress, allowing them to properly embrace. And so Horacio could put his own mouth to use.
That was as far as it was going for the night, though. Horacio had an early start in the morning, and Javier didnât want to fall asleep before they could finish.
âDid it all go okay?â Horacio asked once they had got comfortable.
âYeah, yeah. Well, there was a delay with the paperwork, as usual. But once we were on the road, it was fine. Heavy traffic around San Antonio, but I almost had the I-35 to myself on the way home.â
âAnd the family?â
âExhausted and drained, obviously. Fuck knows when their hearing will be. But at least theyâre together again and safe for now.â
Javier wasn't only clueless about the date of the hearing, he couldnât predict the outcome of it either. That wasnât his remit. By the time the Torres Fuentes family were in front of an immigration judge, he would have helped countless more families and individuals like them. Their circumstances werenât always the same, but their options were just as limited.
Not all days â or nights â were like this one. Sometimes, Javier would be on translation duties on the frontline of the border, triaging and directing people towards help, whether it be medical attention, food, water, toiletries, a change of clothes, a shower, or a bed for the night. Or, more than likely, access to a lawyer. His and the fleet of other aid workers for charities, not-for-profits and NGOs would be some of the first non-threatening faces new arrivals would see once the INS was finished with them, and that wasnât a responsibility he took lightly.
Other times, he would deliver bond money to detention centres in exchange for someone's freedom, help people fill in forms and paperwork, or run community outreach sessions, reminding people of their rights. He had even hosted several families at the guesthouses for a night or two until safe transportation could be arranged for travel onward to relatives or sponsors elsewhere in the States. Flights were usually not an option for most due to a lack of papers, so the preferred method was long car journeys split between drivers like Javier. No two days were ever quite the same because no two stories were ever the same. There were commonalities, but subtle nuances and complications came with the territory of human lives.
âYou did everything you could to help them.â
âI know. Just makes you realise how fuckingâŠfragile it all is. And how fucking lucky we are.â
There was no denying luck â and money, of course â played a role in Horacio securing a visa and the Holy Grail of a green card for being an investor in the States. But Javier had also utilised an old contact at the US Embassy in BogotĂĄ to expedite Horacioâs application. Her name was Colleen, and she had, with great reluctance, helped him secure visas for several informants in the past.
The silence over the line when Javier had uttered Horacioâs name was long, loud and awkward. But just like with his informants, she didnât ask any questions and did him one last favour on the proviso she never heard from him again.
âWe are. And Iâll never forget that.â Horacioâs palm connected with Javierâs cheek, flecks of moonlight highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. âYou look exhausted, too.â
A soft chuckle filtered through the shadows. âThanks. Sorry for waking you, though. I know youâve gotta be up early.â
âYeah, which is why Iâm glad you did wake me. Once Iâve done the usual rounds, Iâll probably be in meetings most of the day. So, I wonât see you until late.â
âBetter make the most of you now, then.â
Lingering kisses followed, but they knew it was fruitless to fight the fatigue.
âHowâs everything going with the business plan?â Javier asked once he had accepted defeat.
âSo far, so good. I want to go through everything with your father again before everyone arrives. Just to make sure heâs happy with it all.â
âIâve, er, got it on pretty good authority he is.â
Horacio rolled his eyes. âI know. But itâs his money invested in this place as much as ours. And itâs not like Iâm the expert.â
âNot yet. And he trusts you. They all do. Youâre no longer a new face around here, remember.â
âI know. But Iâm still learning the ropes, and Iâm not the one in charge anymore.â
âYou sure about that?â
There was a suggestive edge beneath the drowsiness in Javierâs voice. If Horacio looked hard enough through the darkness, he would have seen a quirked brow thrown his way.
âWell, I still have my moments.â
Javier mumbled a lazy hum of agreement. âIâll say. But donât worry about tomorrow, okay? Youâll be fine. Trust me.â He managed one last kiss for good measure, even though his eyelids were getting heavier by the second.
A muffled âI doâ was pressed into the shell of Javierâs ear as he flipped his body around, his back cushioned against Horacioâs chest. Calloused fingertips weathered by hard labour nowadays rather than a trigger found their home resting on the curve of Javierâs stomach, eliciting a meditative sigh from both as they huddled down.
It didnât matter that one of them would be up soon with the dawn chorus while the other might be called away past the midnight hour. Because they knew how lucky they were, not only after all they had been through but compared to so many who crossed the border to start a new life. And it was impossible to take that for granted.
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For all that had changed, wall-to-wall meetings and stacks of paperwork were two guaranteed constants to remain. No matter the career path Horacio chose, he was apparently destined never to escape their clutches.
The morning and most of the afternoon â with a short break for lunch â had been spent poring over business plans, maps and spreadsheets with Chucho, his accountant, Miguel, and the ranch and farm managers, Marco and FĂ©lix.
Horacio was still adjusting to being the least qualified person in the room again. But the fact that he was even privy to such meetings in the first place was a privilege not customarily afforded to ranch hands without much experience under their belts. It was hard to gauge what others thought about hisïżœïżœïżœunique position here. But he was also an investor whose name, along with Javierâs, was on the title deeds of the farm. Even if people didnât know about them, it stood to reason that he would be consulted about any development proposals.
Between his money and the safety net of his connections â whatever some may have speculated the precise nature of those were â to a well-respected ranching family, Horacio, so far, hadnât had too many problems. Not even when shadowing or attending training courses off-site, and he was surrounded by heavy Texan drawls and the type of man who had the propensity to make his feelings clear with his fists â or a gun â if he found out a fellow rancher shared a house and bed with another man.
But the odd off-hand comment had made Horacio wonder if they knew more about his past employment than he realised. In which case, perhaps in their eyes, getting on the wrong side of the former head of Search Bloc wasnât a wise move.
Regardless, this was what he had signed up for. And for all his investments and networking, there were no cutting corners in ranch and business management, beef production, animal science and equine studies. The Peñas were far from the only family business in the industry, and most had grown up a lot more hands-on than Javier. Horacio could never have leapfrogged over them even if he had wanted to.
By late afternoon, the meetings were done for the day â although there would be plenty more to come â leaving Horacio and Chucho to check on the pregnant heifers. The calves werenât due until early April, another month away and just in time for Horacioâs birthday. But it was all hands on deck between now and then to ensure it went as smoothly as possible. Their main job today had been to weigh the expectant mothers, who, thankfully, all turned out to be healthy and on the right track.
Broken shards of light bounced off the ranchâs steel fences and gates as Horacio and Chucho sat on the farmhouse porch enjoying a well-earned break, the sunâs heat beginning to show glimpses of what it was capable of during the summer months. Bluebonnets blanketed the fallow fields, and the saccharine scent of yucca blossom travelled on the early spring breeze.
Chucho stirred a freshly made pot of tea and filled two cups to the brim, sliding one across a wooden table towards Horacio, who accepted with a nod of thanks.
âSo, do you think it went okay today?â Horacio asked after a quenching sip of tea.
âBetter than I expected, to be honest. FĂ©lix worked for Ciro and Malena for many years. I wasnât sure heâd take to new ownership. Or if heâd even want to stay. But he seems to be on board with the idea of expansion.â
âWhat about the rest of the workers Ciro and Malena employed?â
âA few moved on or retired. But most donât care whoâs in charge as long as they're getting paid.â
âAnd what about here? Have many left or cut ties sinceâŠâ Horacio trailed off, hoping he had done enough for Chucho to follow his train of thought without saying it out loud.
âNot many, no, Mijo. And only the ones Iâm glad to see the back of.â
âNot many?â Horacio scoffed into his cup, sending ripples across the surface of his drink. âSo, still some, then.â
âAs I saidâŠonly those I donât want the ranch to be associated with anyway. It's no loss if they canât keep their noses out of my familyâs business.â
The thing was, Horacio and Javier had everything to lose if the wrong person found out. One phone call was all it would take for the police to be banging down their cottage door. After all, that had happened to plenty of others like them in Texas. It had happened to plenty of bars and restaurants that ended up either raided or burned to the ground, the owners and patrons harassed, arrested, beaten to a bloody pulp, or worse. But Horacio couldnât bring himself to say any of this to Chucho, so he took extra time swallowing his tea instead.
âFrom what Iâve heard, the majority see youâre a hard worker. Youâre willing to learn the ropes. But youâre not afraid to get stuck in or take the lead if needed. Youâre professional with the contractors. And youâre trusted to do a good job. Thatâs worth a lot around here â a lot more than gossipers. I may not know what itâs like for you both...but I do know not everyoneâs like them.â
A smile reflexively spread across Horacioâs lips. âMy MamĂĄ said similar back in Manizales.â
Chucho mirrored Horacioâs expression. âShe sounds like a wise woman.â
âShe is.â
âAnd proud of you. As Iâm sure your father would be. Starting over again is never easy, but what you and Javi have done hereâŠI'm proud, too.â
âThank you. Me too, to be honest.â Horacio let out a brief huff. âWhen Javier told me what he wanted to do, it was like the final piece slotted in place. He couldnât believe he hadnât thought of it sooner.â He shook his head this time at how blindingly obvious it was once Javier said it out loud. âBut I think he needed to leave to be able to come back again.â
Chucho hummed into his tea. âThatâs the thing about the past: you canât outrun it. And once you let it walk alongside you, I think your path becomes clearer.â
For the second time that afternoon, Horacio could scarcely believe his MamĂĄ and Chucho hadnât met yet. But he was looking forward to the day that would change.
âA few years ago, I never thought this could be my life. Or that I wanted it to be. But now, even though itâs not easy work, and the hours are long, and Iâm starting from the bottom of the ladder again, everything just feelsâŠâ He broke off, searching for the right word.
âSimple?â Chucho supplied.
âYes. Simple.â
After Horacio finished his tea and saddled up Coco ready to help move the herds into the barns before nightfall, he didnât mind that his legs were stiff from all the sitting in chairs he had done today. Or that the last thing he felt like doing was wrangling contrary cattle.
He didnât mind that it would be more of the same at the break of dawn tomorrow and a long road ahead of grafting and proving himself. He didnât mind that he wouldnât catch up with Javier until they shared a late dinner once Javier had driven back from Austin. He didnât mind if complete strangers couldnât stomach what they got up to behind closed doors as long as they were left alone to live in peace.
He didnât mind any of it because they were exactly where they were supposed to be.
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No matter what profession he worked in, it was rare for Javier to take a weekend off. Heâd accepted a long time ago he wasnât the 9-5 type, and leaving it all at the door once he clocked off had never been an option. But a new batch of aid workers and volunteers had arrived in the last few weeks. And once Luz, his boss, got wind of an upcoming birthday in the team, she insisted Javier finally use up some vacation time.
Luz DĂaz was someone Javier could call a friend as well as his boss these days, especially in light of their parallel circumstances. While Luz was an aid worker on the border, she lived with Carla Moreno, the daughter of a dairy farmer several miles to the south. However, unlike Chucho and Elena, their parents, whilst not hostile, preferred to brush their daughters' relationship under the carpet wherever possible.
When Luz accompanied Javier to the guesthouses with a new family one afternoon, she had first crossed paths with Horacio. Until then, Javier had played his cards close to his chest, never knowing whether it was safe to trust anyone. But it hadnât taken Luz long to put two and two together â or for her to realise she could share her secret in return.
Birthdays had held no real significance for Javier since childhood. But his Pops was determined to invite him and Horacio to the farmhouse for dinner that evening. In the meantime, once Javier had escaped work by mid-afternoon, he headed home to freshen up and grab a drink. It may have been late October, but the Texan heat was a stubborn son of a bitch, and was still hitting the mid-90s several times a week.
A neatly written note was pinned to the fridge that read In corn barn, so Javier took a UTV and headed across the farm. It was quieter now the harvest was over, and the cattle from the ranch had grazed on any leftovers. The herds were back next door, allowing bales of corn stalks to be gathered up and stored ready for use as bedding for the livestock on chillier winter nights.
The latest calves had thrived since April and only had two months left before they would be weaned off their mothers. Usually, several were sold at auction, but they had kept hold of them this time due to the extra space. Now the harvest was out of the way, the next step was to clear the lower fields and build a new gate linking the ranch with the farm.
When Javier arrived at the barn, Horacio was unloading the last batch of bales off the trailer.
Horacio paused for a second when Javier came into view, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. âWhere did you get that?â
âIt was on the passenger seat.â Javier gestured to the parked UTV. âDoes it suit me?â He tipped the brim of a Stetson to match the one Horacio was already wearing.
Given the similarities between their outfits, anyone would have been forgiven for thinking Javier was an employee. They both wore belted dark blue jeans â Horacioâs more mud-splattered â brown boots and plaid shirts with rolled-up sleeves â Horacioâs brown and white and Javierâs green and red. The most noticeable difference was Horacio wore a white bandana around his neck whilst Javierâs shirt collar was wide open, his neck on full display.
Horacio silently lifted the side of the trailer back up and locked it now that it was empty. He shrugged the protective gloves off his hands one by one and flung them into the cab of his truck.
He followed Javier into the barn and closed the door, but his attention was on the wall opposite. A long row of hooks was hung across it, where various pieces of equipment were kept, including overalls, brushes, and a wide range of horse tack.
On the last hook was a coiled lariat, which Horacio picked up and stood facing Javier several feet away. He threaded the rope through the Honda knot until he held a loose loop in his right hand, his hungry gaze fixed on Javier as his wrist built momentum over his head in measured circles.
Before Javier could react, the tip of the rope found its target, tightening around his waist, his feet involuntarily taking him forward as Horacio reeled him in. Even when they were chest to chest and breathing hard, Horacio didnât let up his grip on the rope.
âYou know it does,â Horacio eventually rasped at the shell of Javier's ear.
Javier shivered at the timbre of Horacioâs voice, the earthy scent of the land combining with the heady musk of sweat, remnants of mud and dust still visible on his face and arms. âSomeoneâs been practising.â
âWell, it is a special occasion.â Horacio tugged on the rope, pressing their bodies together until his lips found Javierâs neck, stubble scratching along his jawline, finally brushing over his mouth.
Javier took the bait, responding with a full kiss, distracting Horacio enough to drop the rope. Then it was all bets off as his hands journeyed over Horacioâs back, first dipping southwards, palming his ass through his back pockets, then northwards to remove the bandana and roam under his shirt. But something made Javier pause mid-way.
He looked at Horacio for an explanation but was met only with a coy smile.
âHappy Birthday.â
Javierâs brow quirked suggestively of its own accord. âI thought we werenât doing presents.â
âI can take it back if youâd prefer.â
âDonât you fucking dare. Now, shut up and drive us home.â
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No sooner were they back at their cottage than Horacio straddled Javierâs lap on the couch, teeth nipping as they grabbed handfuls of fabric or skin.
When Javier made to unbutton Horacioâs shirt, Horacio stilled his attempts. âNot yet.â
Instead, his mouth ghosted over Javierâs as his fingers slid down to his belt, unbuckling it unhurriedly and deliberately.
Their laboured breaths filled the silence, the rich scent of earth and woodsmoke heavy on their senses.
âTouch yourself,â Horacio finally said, his order clear, voice steady.
It was all Javier could do not to come on the spot. But he managed to exhale through his nose, his lips pursed as he wrestled back a semblance of control.
He let his right hand slide down to his zipper, which he knew Horacio had left closed on purpose. He gradually unfastened it, his palm disappearing out of sight.
A hitched breath and tensed thighs let Horacio know Javier had made contact even before Javierâs wrist began to twitch.
For several strokes, Horacio merely observed, drinking in every detail of Javierâs face, each jaw movement and shuddered breath, their eyes locked together as Javier took himself in hand.
Horacio couldn't hide that he was more than a little affected by the show beneath him, so he upped the ante, his fingers seeking out the buttons of his shirt, popping the top one first, then the second, third and fourth.
He stopped there, giving Javier another sneak peek of the surprise he had planned for more months than he cared to admit. He could see Javier had noticed the tantalising glimpses of brown leather drawn tightly against bare skin and could feel Javierâs motions speed up.
The remaining buttons followed, allowing the shirt to fall over the broad expanse of Horacioâs shoulders until it hit the floor.
âFuck.â Javierâs hips spasmed, slamming against Horacioâs crotch in the process and triggering a chain reaction of panting. âShit, Horacio. Where did you â how ââ
Javier was cut off by a finger at his mouth and a soft hushing sound.
Horacio pressed a digit to Javierâs lips until it was engulfed by wet warmth. âKeep going.â
As Javierâs tongue swirled and his cheeks hollowed, he set back to work, building up friction along the shaft and over the head. It was like a switch flicked in Horacio during moments like this when he was all smoky rasps and concise commands. It was the closest Javier had ever got to experiencing Colonel Carrillo first-hand, and nothing was as intoxicating.
When Javier was being regarded and instructed so intensely, he had no choice but to submit. Anything to please the force of nature who made him come harder than he ever had done in his life. And so, he kept going, fist clenched around his cock, edging himself with each edict echoing in his ears.
Running across Horacioâs chest below his pectoral muscles was a leather strap linked to another one on either shoulder that crisscrossed over his back, his biceps restrained by matching cuffs. The leather was a worn cognac brown with intricate stitching, decorative studs and buckles like the vintage cowboy belts the harness appeared to be made from.
âYou like it?â
Javierâs free hand hypnotically reached up to Horacioâs torso, fingers tracing each detail of the leather in between cupping Horacioâs pecs and tweaking his nipples.
âBeautiful,â was the only word he could muster. It was by far the best birthday present Javier had ever had. Although, if he didnât know any better, he would have assumed Horacio was trying to make this his last one.
Horacio was conflicted between watching and needing more, so he compromised by subtly rocking against Javierâs inner thigh whilst continuing his role as a voyeur. Knowing his voice alone could get Javier off was a power trip Horacio never grew tired of, even after all these years. In fact, since his career change, it had become more arousing because being in charge was a novelty now.
He brought two fingers to Javierâs lips again, which were taken greedily without the need to be told.
âGood, thatâs it, and another.â
All three digits rested on Javierâs tongue as Horacio probed back and forth with increasing vigour, leaving no doubt what he had in mind as a string of saliva connected from mouth to fingers when he finally withdrew.
Horacio transferred his glossy hand straight to his chest and across his nipples, flicking the pad of his thumb over each bud just the way Javier liked to lick them.
When Horacio looked back up, Javier was tugging in a frenzy, his breathing ragged and fraying at the seams, dangerously close to it all being over.
Horacio reached out to stop Javierâs wrist, leaning closer until his lips brushed against his ear. âNot before Iâve ridden you.â
Javier immediately extracted his hand from his jeans with a huff of frustration, resenting Horacio almost as much as wanting to be fucked. Every man had his limits, and his were rapidly being reached.
With both hands free, he alternated between hot, smooth skin, the textured leather and cool metal. He slid his fingers beneath the harness, imagining all the positions he could manoeuvre Horacio around.
His hands travelled down to Horacioâs ass, pulling him further into his lap as their mouths crashed together at long last. From glutes to thighs, Javier embraced each one until he met resistance under the denim of Horacioâs jeans.
Javier ran his fingers over it a few times. âIs that what I think it is?â
âGuess thereâs only one way to find out.â
Javier growled as he lunged for Horacioâs belt and zipper, both men making light work of removing his jeans.
Whilst Horacio stood up, he took the opportunity to undress Javier and reach over to the drawer beneath the nearby coffee table. He rummaged around until he retrieved what he was looking for and stashed it on the sofa.
There was no holding back now as nails raked over hot skin and tongues connected, rough and harsh, their cocks jutting between their stomachs. Javierâs hands glided over and under the leather straps, descending beyond until his palms massaged Horacioâs cheeks apart, wider with each circular motion, his knuckles teasing up and down the cleft.
The tremor that ran through Horacio was enough to cause Javierâs arm to stretch across the sofa until he located the bottle of lube, expertly flipping the cap open and pouring liberally.
He alternated between his middle finger and thumb in a corkscrew motion, letting Horacio stretch around him, Horacioâs forehead dropping to Javierâs shoulder, teeth grazing flesh as he held their cocks in his fist.
It wasnât long before Horacio lowered himself, steadily taking inch by inch. He initially held still, experimenting with nudges up and down as he braced his arms on the back of the couch.
A winded noise escaped Javierâs throat as Horacio sunk deeper with more force this time, gyrating his hips until he found a rhythm.
Javier was torn between the mass of muscle and leather at his fingertips but settled for clinging to the front of the harness, pulling Horacio further onto his cock.
A strained grunt left Horacioâs throat, prompting him to re-adjust so his feet were planted flat on the sofa cushions, the change in angle plunging him to new depths. He paused, giving them a chance to catch their breaths. And then, without further warning, Horacio squatted down.
The echo of his ass hitting Javierâs thighs was enough to make Horacio do it again. And again, over and over, the slap of skin on skin louder each time.
One of Javierâs hands scrambled aimlessly around for an anchor, eventually finding the couchâs arm where Horacioâs Stetson had landed earlier in the proceedings.
Javier snatched hold of the brim and brought it towards them, depositing it on Horacioâs head. âKeep it on.â
Horacio was powerless to refuse when it made Javierâs cock twitch and pulsate, massaging Horacioâs prostate as he bounced at just the right angle, his own length sliding up and down the plains of Javierâs chest and abdomen.
Now the hat was in place, Javier's hands sailed over Horacioâs thighs, pausing as he made contact with the leather band around his right thigh. He couldnât believe Horacio had not only remembered their dirty talk the morning after Trujilloâs wedding but that he had brought Javierâs fantasy to life. And it was better than even his wildest dreams could have imagined.
A part of him wanted to remove the garter just so he could re-attach it. But he was mesmerised by the way the leather stretched around Horacioâs thigh as his pelvis pulsed back and forth, up and down, and round and round.
His fingers gravitated south, landing where the two men joined together. âFuck,â Javier choked out, rubbing in circles around the wet rim, feeling the thrumming heat of his own cock, and wishing he had a better visual of them moving as one.
âLie on the floor.â In complete contrast, Horacioâs cadence was calm and in control, like he was directing his horse.
Javier did as he was told, his body cushioned by a thick grey, black, and ivory Zapotec rug.
Without hesitation, Horacio sat atop Javierâs thighs with his back to him, presenting the perfect view as though he had read Javierâs mind. As he re-seated himself, he reached behind, spreading his cheeks wider as he sunk lower.
A strangled whimper was drawn from Javierâs chest as he raised his head for a closer look once Horacio started to move. He ignored the strain in his neck and replaced Horacioâs hands with his own, each palm cupping and squeezing, pushing forward, fingernails clawing, urging his rider to go faster.
In response, Horacio deepened the roll of his hips and balanced his hands on the rug beneath them.
They had picked it out on a trip to San Antonio the previous year, one of their first joint purchases for the cottage. And now they were finally christening it, surrounded by an array of décor and furnishings they had chosen together since. For their own home, an unthinkable notion in the not-so-distant past. Yet here they were against all odds.
Javier grasped the latest addition to their household, pulling Horacio by the harness in all directions as though he was the jinete (horseman) steering the reins rather than the steed being mounted bareback. But Horacio was the one wearing a Stetson. The one in the saddle daily, strengthening and toning his muscles even more than they already were, and Javier could already feel the difference.
He let go of the harness, his fingertips skimming Horacioâs voluptuous upper arms, rump and thighs, caressing the tight leather cuffs, pressing the sharp chill of the buckles against fiery skin until a shockwave rippled through Horacio and straight to Javierâs cock.
As Javierâs hips involuntarily bucked, their rhythm faltering in a chorus of moans, Horacio was beginning to regret not utilising a belt or one of the lariats from the barn as restraints on Javierâs wrists. But he changed his mind when he felt a crisp slap across the ass like a quirt used with overzealous force. But unlike the horses â with whom he was always gentle  â Horacio had no objection to the sting left behind.
In fact, it only spurred Horacio on, his ass lifting higher with each strike, building momentum, one hand stimulating his own cock in tandem.
Javier could feel rather than see Horacio jerking off, and his pelvis began to automatically plough upwards again, trying and failing to keep in time when he was this far gone.
âHoracio,â Javier breathed out, his tone pleading, desperate and wrecked.
âTell me what you need.â Horacio wasnât going to make it as easy this time. If Javier wanted something, he would have to use his words.
âI need you on all fours.â
And so Horacio dismounted, willing and waiting to give Javier everything he asked for, a complete 180 in a matter of minutes.
Javier wasted no time and fell in place behind Horacio, lining himself up and propelling forwards with a rough thud, nails digging into hipbones hard enough to leave marks.
As Horacio took himself in hand once more, Javier slowed to bask in a bird's eye view of his cock disappearing and reappearing, his thumbs spreading Horacio wider to get a better look at where they became one. It would have been easy to take it for granted by this stage, but he never did, not when they had been forced apart by circumstance and geography so many times before.
Whilst Javier was distracted, Horacio threw back his hips, causing a hiss of pleasure that inspired him to do it again and again, his ass pounding against Javierâs groin.
Javier drove forward in retaliation, pulling Horacio towards him with a firm jerk on the harness, a dual wave of groans unleashing each time Javier manhandled him, the thick leather straps taut against Horacioâs clammy skin, hopefully leaving imprints from the force.
Javier yanked hard enough to raise Horacio up on his knees, cementing them back to chest, teeth, mouth and moustache going to town as Horacio craned his neck to meet the onslaught.
âDo you know how fucking good you look like this? HowâŠfuckingâŠbeautiful?â Javierâs declaration was broken up with each thrust as he resumed movement.
âItâs all for you,â Horacio purred between lip bites. âYour own cowboy to play with.â
With a muttered âFuck,â Javier pushed Horacio back down on all fours, toppling his Stetson to the floor, one hand gripping at the harness, the other at the nape of Horacioâs neck, his fingers fondling the gold chain that complemented the silver one at his own breast.
His hips hammered forward, no holds barred, as an all too familiar pressure built and threatened to consume him any second now. He glanced down, transfixed by his own fluid motions, entranced by how well Horacio held his cock, how Javier had tamed a once wild bronco who would have thrown off any other rider a long time ago. But not him, never him, so maybe he was more of a vaquero than he thought.
A combination of the visuals, the leather against his skin, and the tight heat squeezing and releasing around him took its toll. Javier let out a wounded gasp as though all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, his muscles tensing from head to toe as he watched his cock spasm and fill Horacio up.
As liquid warmth painted Horacio's walls, his wrist jolted and shook, sending him over the edge. He felt an extra weight on his back, the harsh scrape of teeth and words of encouragement at his ear as a hand took over from his own. Just the right pace and force, just how he liked it, just enough to make him coat Javierâs fingers, vision blurred, back arched.
They didnât move as the room came back into focus, letting their lungs and heart rates return to baseline. Before Horacio could collapse to the floor, Javier slowly pulled out, smearing glistening fingers around Horacioâs fluttering hole, mixing it in with his own release. His tongue swirled and lapped from behind, making Horacio tremble on his knees until they buckled, and he could take no more.Â
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The spark of a lighter and deep exhales of smoke were the only sounds to be heard for several minutes as they lay recovering in bed, the hard floor downstairs proving too much for their aching limbs, even with the rug for protection.
âSo, are you gonna tell me?â
âTell you what?â
âOh, come on. You know fucking well what.â
âDo I?â
âYes.â
âDoes it matter?â
âWellâŠno. Iâm just curious, thatâs all.â
âSurprised you havenât guessed. In fact, I kinda thought it was you dropping a hint.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âIt was one of your old magazines that gave me the instructions on how to make it. And itâs not hard to get access to leather around here. The saddlers the ranch uses are well-stocked in almost everything. They donât need to know what itâs being used for.â
Whatever Javier had been expecting to hear, it wasnât that. When moving into the cottage, he had cleared out his old bedroom. Hidden in the depths of his wardrobe, beneath several layers of clothes, was a pile of magazines he never had the heart to throw away or burn, one of which was a Cowboy and Rodeo Special of Drummer.
Javier blew out a low chuckle as he passed their cigarette across the bed. âI wish I had been dropping a hint. AlthoughâŠlooks like you did fine without my influence. Always the dark horse.â
"Hey, they're your magazines, not mine."
"You read them. Cover to cover by the sounds of it."
"Just making up for lost time when I was younger."
"At least someone's getting use out of them. So, you ready for your first rodeo, now? Based on this afternoon, I'd put in a good word."
"Very funny."
Although, whilst Javier was, of course, joking, there were plenty of men like Horacio who did compete across Texas â without hiding who they were as well. He imagined Horacio would rather die in a stampede of raging bulls than partake in such a competition. But nonetheless, it was an appealing fantasy for Javier to indulge in from time to time.
His fingers traced patterns over Horacioâs thigh where the leather garter remained even after the harness and cuffs had come off, the leftover scent of sweat and semen on their skin fusing with the tobacco in the air. He had taken great pleasure and care in removing those; however, when it came to the garter, Javier placed a ring of kisses where the leather sat but left it in position.
âYou liked it, then?â
Javier gave Horacio an incredulous look as though the answer spoke for itself. But there was a hint of uncertainty behind the question, and it was only fair to provide reassurance. âI loved it. A lot. I donât really do birthdays, but youâve certainly made this one memorable. So, thank you.â
"My pleasure," Horacio murmured mid-kiss. "And it definitely beats my birthday."
"That wouldn't be hard."
The first few hours of Horacio's birthday were spent helping deliver calves and bedding down close by the expectant mothers every night for the following two weeks. He barely saw Javier other than at meal times, and it took multiple showers to wash the pungent barn aroma out of his hair.
âHadnât we better shower soon?â Horacio said with reluctance once they pulled apart. âDonât wanna keep your father waiting.â
Javier leaned over to look at the clock on the bedside table. âYeah, we should. Iâm starving now weâve worked up an appetite.â
âDo you want to do the honours?â Horacio gestured towards his thigh.
âKeep it on.â
Horacio could tell from the wicked glint in Javier's eye he wasnât joking. âYou do know I have to work with your father? And look him in the eye.â
âOh, come on, he wonât even notice. Not everyone checks you out as much as me, yâknow. Especially not my Pops. AndâŠâ Javier sat up and swung his leg across Horacioâs thigh until he was straddling him. âIt is still my birthday, remember.â
Despite such brazen tactics, Horacio met Javierâs mouth again, groaning gently as Javierâs teeth pulled on his bottom lip. âFine. As long as you can keep your hands to yourself through dinner.â
âIâll try my best.â
He could make no such guarantees after dinner, though.
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It took another week for the temperature to cool by several degrees, just in time for the residents of Laredo to visit neighbouring pumpkin patches, carve out Jack-oâ-lanterns and go Trick-or-Treating.
By the time Javier had finished work and picked up some groceries, Chucho was busy in the lounge blanketing a table with a white lace cloth before arranging two extra tiers on top decorated with papel picado. Nearby trays were full of items ready and waiting to be placed on the ofrenda, including a Talavera pitcher of water, pan de muerto, a plate of salt, fresh marigolds, Calaveras, and a familiar wooden box.
Chucho looked up at Javier, who stood in the doorway with a cardboard box. âAh, Javi, good timing. Pass those here.â
Javier held out a batch of fresh buñuelos delivered straight from Desde La Frontera. âNeed a hand?â
Chucho looked at Javier with pleasant surprise. âPlease, Mijo.â
Between them, they transferred everything from the trays to the table, Chucho directing where each item needed to be placed.
When it came to the wooden box, Chucho sat on the sofa to open it.
Javier watched silently from a few feet away, an ache forming in his chest when he saw the photos spread out on the furniture. But he pushed past it and sat in the adjacent armchair.
He looked closer at the pictures and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. âThis needs to go on it too,â he said.
Chucho glanced up to see Javier clutching Marianaâs poetry book.
âOf course. She can tell us how much she liked Madrid. Which reminds meâŠâ
Chucho stood up and disappeared into his bedroom before reappearing with a card in his hand. âI always keep it by my bed, but it belongs on here.â
Chucho was holding an old prayer card of La Virgen de Guadalupe. âAbuela Rosa gave it to your MamĂĄ for her quinceañera, along with these. â Chucho lifted a string of rosary beads from the wooden box. âI think she cherished the card as a reminder of our ancestors. Even though your Abuela disapproved, your MamĂĄ had her own ideas about Guadalupe.â He couldnât help but laugh and shake his head with fondness.
âHow do you mean?â
âBack in the '60s, Guadalupe became the mascot for the farmersâ union protests â the ones your MamĂĄ marched on. She liked to think of her as someone who helped those in need. Do you remember her reading stories about the Aztecs? And Guadalupe, La Malinche and La Llorona?â
âYeah, I remember.â
Javier blinked, keeping his eyes closed for a fraction longer than was customary. The memory was fuzzy around the edges, but he could feel the warmth of his mother lying beside him on his bed, a book between them as she read aloud tales of their ancestors. Once he started getting drowsy, she would sing to him or stroke his hair and kiss him goodnight, the comforting sound of her favourite telenovelas drifting through his bedroom door as he fell into a deep sleep.
When he was even smaller and couldnât sleep after his older cousins convinced him La Llorona had been spotted in Laredo the previous night, his MamĂĄ soothed him with the advice she had been given by her mother to always pray a Hail Mary and an Our Father whenever near water before making a sign of the cross for protection.
However, Javier also remembered during the first few months after she was gone, he would have nightmares about La Llorona. Except in those dreams, his Mamå had taken on the appearance of the wailing spirit, and her ghost roamed along the banks of the Rio Grande, screaming for him. But no matter how hard he tried to get closer to her, she would move out of reach until he woke up screaming.
âThere have been so many versions of those stories since the days of the Aztecs, who knew Guadalupe as Coatlalopeuh, Tonantzin, or Coatlicue. La Llorona as Cihuacoatl. And La Malinche as Malinalli or Malintzin, or La Chingada. Some of those stories say they are all one and the same. And that the conquistadors made Guadalupe the Madonna above the others. Your MamĂĄ saw Guadalupe as a symbol of hope, a mediator between the Aztec and Catholic religions, uniting all the different parts of us and our roots. The light and the dark, the old world and the new, the conquered and the conqueror, the obedient and the rebellious, the eagle and the snake, the Mexican and the American.â
âNever thought of it like that when I was younger. But itâs beautiful.â
âIt is.â Chucho stood up and placed the prayer card on the altar.
âDâyou think itâs possible, though? To unite it all, I mean.â
âI think we have to try as much as we can. And learn to make peace with it when we canât. But I know itâs not easy.â
âMexico didnât seem far enough to run when I took the DEA job, even though it was never home. So, Colombia it was.â Javier couldnât help but laugh at his own confused logic in hindsight. âBut when we were in Manizales, I kept thinking about all the stories you told me about our family history â in the US and Mexico. And it justâŠhit me I was needed right here on the border. So, thank you, Pops.â
âFor what?â
âFor reminding me of my roots.â
âYour MamĂĄ helped out a lot here, but she always wanted to do more. And she would have done a whole lot more if sheâd had the chance. Sheâd have fought for yours and Horacioâs rights too, Iâm sure of it. I had a feeling youâd take after her one day.â
âBetter late than never, right?â
âRight. Sheâd be so proud of you and your work, Mijo. And so am I.â
A customary exchange of nods filled the silence that had become a trademark between father and son over the years when words seemed inadequate.
Chucho cleared his throat and turned to make one final check everything was in its rightful place on the ofrenda. âI think weâre about ready if you want to get Horacio.â
Javier headed next door with his Popsâ words â and his MamĂĄâs â echoing in his head. He thought about all the tangled threads that had run through him his whole life like the river he grew up on the bank of. It was ironic he could walk across bridges from Laredo into Mexico and back again, a confluence of his heritage. Yet there was always a gap that wouldnât close. A gap those who insisted on his name meaning shame with a n rather than rock with a ñ wouldnât let him close. All of the contradictions and dualities he had tried to reconcile, assuming in the past that he was expected to pick one or the other but never feeling qualified enough, resigning himself to an eternal conflict he could never win.
He thought about the people who crossed the invisible line in the earth every day, the one that instantly changed their identity and status whether they liked it or not, dividing and flattening their humanity into stereotypes and insults. The one that caused mothers separated from their children to cry like La Llorona and be condemned for finding themselves in desperate circumstances through no fault of their own. The one that led to Operations Hold the Line and Gatekeeper building walls and deploying an army of la migra, as Border Patrol were often called, to keep people out.
Maybe it was Javierâs recalcitrance, but the more the US government tried to put up borders â despite not thinking twice about violating those belonging to other countries â the more at ease he felt without them. After all, Texas had been part of Mexico in the past, as well as its own republic, and he had spent more than enough of his life trapped by self-imposed borders and walls already.
To be in a place like Laredo was to live on the margin of two countries and cultures, not one or the other. He was Mexican American, a Tejano. He had shared his heart and bed with women and men. Horacio was a closely guarded secret and a naked truth; they lived in the shadows and in the light. He was making a difference, yet it was a drop in the ocean of an ever-expanding problem. He regretted so much of what went down in Colombia, but not that he went in the first place, not only because of Horacio but because it brought him full circle. It brought him peace. It brought him home.
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As the clock struck midnight and welcomed in DĂa de los Difuntos, the ofrenda was aglow with candlelight, and the fresh scent of copal filled the farmhouse.
Horacio stood over the altar, his gaze fixed on the image of him in his PapĂĄâs jacket, his fatherâs usually stern expression relaxed andâŠproud. He had never really allowed himself to think of that word before. But as the veladoras flickered and swayed across the photograph his MamĂĄ had insisted he kept, he could no longer ignore it.
Beneath the photo lay the golden pendants, temporarily removed from Horacio's neck for the festivities, a glass of his PapĂĄâs favourite rum to match the one in his hand, and a plate of tamales.
âNot bad for a Colombian.â
âI guess I had a good teacher.â
âAfter dealing with a son determined not to follow in my footsteps, it makes a change to find someone more willing.â
Horacioâs eyes landed back on the photograph of him and his Pops before shifting to one of Mariana in her element at a Chicano civil rights march with a toddling Javier by her side, a bittersweet smile taking hold of his lips. âFunny how it works out.â
âTrue. But as long as it does, that's the main thing. Even if itâs not what you expected.â
âIâll drink to that.â
âWhat are we toasting?â Javier asked as he came in from the kitchen with two glasses of his MamĂĄâs mezcal of choice, passing one over to Chucho.
Chucho gave a nod of thanks and raised his glass. âTo endings and beginnings. And reunions.â
The next couple of hours were spent telling stories, reminiscing, remembering. Welcoming the past into the present, letting it know there was still a future.
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Chucho retreated to bed first, leaving Javier and Horacio to finish their drinks by the fire, which had burned down to its last mesquite log.
After placing their empty glasses in the kitchen, Javier stopped by the ofrenda on his way back to the sofa. His eye caught the selection of sugar skulls on display, each delicate design bearing the name of a departed loved one. Although, there were, in fact, two each for Mariana and Eduardo.
Javier traced his finger across the one which read Mariana Rosa Reyes Estrada, a pair of arms gathering tightly around his waist simultaneously.
âI never knew her with this name. She left Estrada behind in Mexico. Before she married, she was Mariana Reyes. Then she took Popsâ name âcos thatâs the gringo way. And to make all the paperwork easier, I was just a Peña, too. But Pops likes to welcome her home with her Mexican and American names. In case she gets lost, he always says.â Javier released an affectionate chuckle at the expense of his Popsâ superstitions.
âHe told me when he asked for my fatherâs full name.â Horacio smiled into Javierâs shoulder as he reached towards the skull that read Eduardo Horacio Carrillo Acosta.
He repeated the same motion across the shared part of his and his PapĂĄ's name. âThe CNP prefer you choose one name when you enlist. So, of course, we all followed suit â MamĂĄ included. And she left Sierra behind when she changed her papers.â
âSeems like we all have to leave parts of ourselves behind one way or another.â
âTrue. But if weâre lucky, we find them again somewhere down the line.â
Javier hummed in agreement as a trail of kisses soothed at his neck.
âWhen was the last time you did this, by the way?â Horacio asked as he traced idle patterns over Javierâs stomach.
âDĂa de Muertos? FuckâŠI canât even remember. When I was in Colombia, I always came home for Christmas â but not before. Pops never made a big deal out of it, but I could tell he was disappointed.â
âIâm sure he understood. And at least youâre here now.â
âI know. I think I just needed to do it in my own time.â
âSame here. So, thank you. To you and your father.â
âFor what?â
âLetting me be a part of it. I think itâs something Iâve needed to do for years.â
âHoracio, of course youâre a part of it. Youâre a part of the family.â Javierâs fingers found Horacioâs, lacing them together with ease above the belt of his jeans. âTĂș eres mi familia.â (Youâre my family)
âY tĂș eres mĂa.â (And youâre mine)
âI was thinking about tomorrowâŠwell, technically, later today. I, er, wondered if you wanted to watch the parade downtown. Then maybe head over to the cemetery with Pops. It's fine if itâs too much. I get it. I just thought maybe ââ
âItâs okay.â Horacio cut him off, turning him around until they were face-to-face then forehead-to-forehead. âIâd love to.â
As the last embers of mesquite turned to ash, they knelt in front of the soft glow of the ofrenda, fingers connecting with their silver cross encased between their palms. A final attempt to welcome home those who had shaped so much of their children's lives, even in their absence, and sometimes in the most unexpected ways.
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Echoes of drumbeats filled downtown Laredo by late afternoon, accompanied by a rainbow of papel picado along every street and a sea of Catrinas and Catrins. Children and adults alike wore masks or calavera face paint and marigolds in their hair, the intricate details of their costumes no doubt requiring months of preparation.
Food and drink stalls had seemingly popped up overnight, selling everything from pan de muerto, pozole and tamales to alegrĂa, gorditas, marranitos and champurrado. It was impossible not to get swept from stand to stand, and fears of Javier and Horacio being scrutinised by anyone they happened to bump into were soon allayed. The hustle and bustle of the festivities made them anonymous yet at one with the city, as they were all here for the same reason.
Floats, dancers and puppets passed through the main roads, a spectacle Javier hadnât witnessed in years. As a teen, the last thing he felt like doing was celebrating when it came to his MamĂĄâs passing. She wasnât supposed to have gone so soon. But nowadays, he could appreciate the care and respect involved in honouring the dead. He could look back on the precious memories and not feel the need to push them away. He could accept the duality of grief and love, not as contradictions but as two sides of the same coin.
As they followed the procession at the end of the parade, making their way towards the cemetery to meet Chucho, Javier caught Horacioâs eye with a silent question. One that Horacio answered with a firm nod, reassurance that they were still on the same page.
So much had changed since Horacio was last here for DĂa de Muertos, not least of all the fact Javier was with him this time and had since met his family. And Escobar was dead, of course. His PapĂĄ was no longer a choking force around his neck but a warm presence that sat more comfortably on his chest. Not weightless, but manageable now.
Although darkness had fallen by the time they arrived at the cemetery, a sea of candles and lanterns lit the gravesides like an endless night sky, each one guiding the way home, even if just for one day. The celebrations from earlier continued, some families singing, drinking and eating. Others prayed or sat with blankets and hot drinks, telling stories and keeping memories alive.
Chucho had been busy when it was still light, clearing out dried flower stems and polishing Marianaâs headstone. Now, fresh marigolds were arranged around the candles, their strong fragrance carrying across the cemetery.
They were greeted with pats on the back and a glass of mezcal. A lowkey toast and short prayers were all they had planned, preferring to save the rest for the privacy of home.
âI just wanted to say thank you. To both of you for coming.â
âAny time, Pops. Iâd forgotten how beautiful this place looks all lit up.â
âIt reminds me of DĂa de las Velitas back in Colombia. People light candles and lanterns at cemeteries like this. Not that I could bring myself to join them after PapĂĄ.â
âThereâs still time.â Javier held Horacioâs gaze through the flickering half-light, making the most of the only gesture he could give in public.
âI know.â
âItâs quieter here usually. A nice place to think. And sheâs always been a good listener. So, if you ever need some breathing space, Iâm sure sheâd be all ears.â
âIâll bear that in mind.â Horacio mirrored Chuchoâs soft smile before laying down a tasteful wreath of marigolds heâd bought from one of the street vendors on their way here.
Javier watched with a growing warmth in his chest as his past, present and future collided once again. A first meeting of sorts, even if it wasnât how it should have been. Even if it was built on memories and traditions, on prayers and stories, it was still real.
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Slivers of silver reflected off the dark waters beyond the farmâs boundaries, the stars above shimmering like distant fireflies. Southern Texan Decembers were mild, but there was a chill to the air after sundown, especially by the river bank. However, it was nothing a blanket or two couldnât fix.
Horacio was propped against a mesquite tree with Javier sitting between his legs, one blanket beneath them and the other draped over them. Coco stood watch nearby, her reins looped around a branch as she chomped on her favourite treat of apple slices â a reward for tonightâs extra work.
They shared a flask of Manizalesâ finest coffee between Horacio lightly massaging Javierâs scalp and temples. It had been a hectic few days, from Chucho roping them into Las Posadas preparations to the farm being short-staffed in the past week due to seasonal colds and flu and the border seeing a higher influx of crossings in the build-up to the holidays.
Apart from a Christmas dinner or two, they werenât expecting to take much time off over the festive period, but tonight was all about them. They had miraculously managed to escape work on time before driving to Desde La Frontera for a meal that was starting to become an anniversary tradition.
Javier played with Horacioâs hands, pressing kisses into his knuckles and pausing over his left wrist. âYou like it, then?â
âVery much.â
âI know itâs not quite a garter or harness, butâŠâ Javier trailed off, his shoulders and abdomen shaking in tandem.
âThe strapâs the same colour, though.â One of Horacioâs hands snaked along Javierâs form, tickling at the waistband of his jeans enough to make him squirm.
âOh really? Hadnât noticed.â
âLiar.â
âMaybe. But it does suit you.â
Of course, Javier was banged to rights. He had spent considerable time picking out the watch, knowing Horacio preferred something digital â for pinpoint accuracy â and practical. Horacio had never got around to replacing his old one that was stopped by the ambush, so it was a long overdue replacement.
But if it also happened to be a gentle reminder of certain escapades every time he looked down at it, well...that was an added bonus. As was the thought of Horacio wearing Javierâs gift buckled around his wrist every day, the strap tight enough to leave a mark on his sun-kissed skin.
âLikewise with your present.â
âI dunno about that. I think you wear it better.â
âYouâre the homegrown Texan boy, not me.â
âYouâre the fucking cowboy, not me.â
Horacioâs fingers on his right hand took a firmer hold of Javierâs hair, coaxing him to turn around and abandon the flask he had just brought to his lips. âTechnicallyâŠyou own part of the ranch and farm. So, itâs about time you had a Stetson.â
Their lips met over Javierâs shoulder, still warm and tingling from the coffee.
âFair point.â Javier picked up the flask again and downed whatever was left before it went cold. âWe got any more of this, by the way?â
âNot âtil next week. I told Alejandra to bring as much as she can fit in her luggage.â
âWell, thereâll be plenty of suitcases to choose from.â
âI know. Iâm not sure your father knows what heâs let himself in for.â
âOh, donât worry, he knows from when my cousins and I were kids. And he gets to play host, so heâll be in his element.â
âHeâs already given me a list of groceries to pick up on the way back from the livestock auction in Hondo.â
âWhenâs that again?â
âThe day before my family arrives. Not ideal timing, but couldnât really say no to more experience.â
âYou still shadowing Gus Montoya?â
âYeah, heâs been in the trade since he was 16, and heâs one of the best in the business now. I thought I should be involved before we start buying the new Santa Gertrudis and Longhorns for this place next year.â
âThe paddocks are gonna be in these lower fields here, right?â Javier gestured towards a recently cleared stretch of land with the newly installed gate separating it from the ranch next door.
âYes. Itâll be easier to move everything back and forth without disturbing the other fields. Then, once the new herdâs settled in, we can expand the stables, get in some more Morgans and Quarter Horses. Maybe diversify the cover crops for next winter.â
âSounds good.â An unseen smile had spread across Javierâs face, the novelty of listening to Horacio talk ranch business not having worn off yet. All those years he tuned out whenever his Pops did the same, yet he never tired of hearing Horacioâs plans.
âIt keeps me out of trouble.â
âShame.â
âThatâs not until next year, thoughâŠâ Horacio trailed off, his lips devouring Javierâs neck, nibbling until Javier wriggled in his hold.
âWell, we better make the most of this before your family arrives.â
Horacio hummed in agreement, his mouth still buried in Javierâs shoulder. âEspecially as thereâs a quick turnaround before New Yearâs.â
âTrue. I take it Felipe and Juana are still okay to come?â
âI forgot to tell you â I spoke to him earlier. Juanaâs feeling much better now the morning sickness has passed. And with Cali gone and FARC taking up more and more CNP resources in the jungle, itâs mostly turf wars between the smaller gangs in MedellĂn. So, MartĂnez authorised his leave, and theyâre flying out on the 30th.â
âGlad to hear it. Itâs all good on the Miami front as well. They arrive the same day, late afternoon, once Connieâs finished her shift and Steveâs picked Olivia up from his parentsâ house.â
âOkay, good. So, everythingâs sorted then.â
âNot quiteâŠI still need to clean out the guesthouses. Donât think our old oneâs been done since the Navarro Vega family left.â
âAt least itâs still getting used since we moved out.â
âYeah, well, I guess someone always needs it. Especially with IIRIRA coming into force. So many more fucking deportations. So many people taking bigger risks âcos they've got no choice.â Javier exhaled harshly through his nose.
He ran his fingers over his moustache and chin, pressing his thumb into his jaw and resting his face in his hand. âItâs starting to feel like the old days again.â
âBut itâs not, Javier. Youâre on the other side of it all this time.â
âItâs not just the border, though, is it?â
âWhat isnât?â
âLegislation that could have us arrested for fucking in the privacy of our own home.â
âWeâve always been careful.â
âWe thought we were careful back in Colombia, Horacio. And look where that got us.â
Javier didnât think about those days much anymore if he could help it. Neither man did, except on specific dates or bad days if they were unlucky. But it was hard to shake the sense of paranoia in light of what the laws of his own state had to say about his sex life. It wasnât far-fetched to imagine someone like Mia DomĂnguez spying on them through a long lens, waiting to catch them out.
âTrue. Thereâll always be a risk. But people like us have always existed under the radar. And weâve been here over a year now, remember. Anyone whoâs got a problem with us has already made their feelings perfectly clear. The rest either donât know or don't give a fuck. Our story doesnât have to end like the one you showed me in The New Yorker.â
âI know.â
Javier had been in two minds about whether to share it. But Horacio insisted he was the one to be read to for a change, preferring to hear the evocative imagery of the wild American landscape from the mouth of a Texan. The parallels were undoubtedly there between the glossy magazine pages and elements of their lives â but luckily, not all of it rang true for them.
âFor a start, they were sheepherders from Wyoming,â Javier added with a tone of defiance.
âExactly. Completely different.â
âYep.â Javier exhaled loudly, his mind already returning to his previous stubborn thought. "But itâs the same government smoke and mirrors shit all over again. The same fucking hypocrisy. If it's not chasing people down the river or letting them die in the desert, itâs drug shipments they made easier to transport here in the first place. Or youâve got couples like us crossing over looking for safety, only to run into fucking sodomy laws. Itâs never gonna stop.â
It was the same sleight of hand tactics Javier had seen before. Legislation made thousands of miles away would claim to solve a problem whilst exacerbating it on the frontline. Whether it was drugs or human beings, they proved time and time again that they couldnât be contained by a border or a statute book. Whether it was Border Patrol or the DEA, choppers would fly over the river at night, fruitlessly chasing traffickers despite the extra budget. If the usual border crossings were out of bounds, people would risk more remote or treacherous spots to try their luck.
It wasnât unheard of for them to emerge from clusters of trees like the one they were sitting in now, drenched and shaking from the cold and dehydration. Or for Javier to be ready and waiting with towels, a change of clothes, a hot shower, or food and drink. Some would present themselves willingly to the authorities, others would disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. If anyone ever asked, Javier had seen and knew nothing.
âAnd neither are you. Look at all the people youâve helped already. You might not be able to save everyone, but youâre making the difference you always wanted to make.â
Horacio coaxed Javier to face him again, cupping his jaw and rubbing a thumb over his stubbled cheek. âEstoy orgulloso de ti.â (Iâm proud of you)
Javier closed his eyes, basking in Horacioâs touch and closing the gap between them. âY yo de ti.â (And I of you)
Easy kisses followed â the kind that were grounding and familiar, safe and timeless.
They rode back to the cottage with only the moon and stars guiding the way. Horacio clasped Cocoâs reins whilst Javier held onto his waist from behind, making the most of the idyllic evening spent alone. Because even here, they knew it couldnât always be like this. But despite all that life would throw at them in the years to come, they would be there for each other, to grow and change, to sail in the same direction, even if not always in the same boat. To make peace with the past, to live in the present, and to look to the future on their own terms.
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Burnt oranges and yellows filled the stone fireplace, the crackling of charred mesquite wood accompanying the dulcet tones of Elvis on the turntable. A fresh pine tree stood in the corner opposite a set of bookshelves, its white lights and a row of candles on the mantlepiece casting a soft glow across the lounge.
By next year, they would have to re-think the room's layout as the shelves were almost out of space. They had transferred all of their old books, records and tapes when they moved in â two poetry books in particular taking pride of place â which now sat alongside newly purchased or gifted titles from the likes of Fernando Vallejo, E.M. Forster, John Rechy, Gloria E. AnzaldĂșa, Alejo DurĂĄn, Linda Ronstadt, K.D. Lang, Vicente FernĂĄndez, Walt Whitman, Pedro AlmodĂłvar and Gregg Araki. And no doubt there would be further additions to their collection on Christmas Day.
Luna was the sole canine guest tonight, her bond with Horacio somehow stronger again since Kiraâs and Fuegoâs arrival. Sol and Leo had grown increasingly fond of their new playmates in the last few months, so it was often the three of them in the cottage nowadays. Horacio hadnât discussed it with Chucho, but he hoped she would stay with them permanently â and see out her retirement years â once the new cattle were in place.
She lay in her favourite chair, fast asleep with her head on the armrest and oblivious to their return home beyond a drowsy wag of the tail, before resuming her dreams.
âYou had a good day, then?â Javier asked from the comfort of Horacioâs shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other as they gently swayed to the music.
Horacio let out a contented hum of approval, burying himself against Javierâs shirt, breathing all of him in. âIt was perfect.â
âIt was.â
âAlthoughâŠI think thereâs one thing missing.â
âOh yeah? Whatâs that?â
âYour present.â
Javierâs chest shook, and something that sounded remarkably like âYou fuckerâ was sworn against the crook of Horacioâs neck, followed by a sharp nip of the teeth.
âItâs only fair.â Horacio tried to keep an authoritative edge to his tone. But it was far from convincing when he ended up laughing as much as Javier.
âActuallyâŠitâs only fair if you wear your hat too.â Another neck bite, accompanied this time by a trail of kisses along the open collar of Horacioâs red plaid shirt, shoving the bandana aside for easier access. âDeal?â
Horacioâs back arched involuntarily, the rumble threatening to escape from his throat tempered into an elongated sigh instead. Not much of a win, but heâd take it. âDeal.â
And so Javier fetched the Stetsons from the coat hook in the hallway whilst Horacio switched records once Elvis had finished.
Javier lowered Horacioâs hat into place, encouraging Horacio to do the same with his.
âSatisfied?â Javier asked once they resumed their embrace, the cumbia beats of Lucho BermĂșdez now replacing Elvis.
Horacioâs fingers slid from Javierâs waist to the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him forward until their lips met and the brims of their hats jutted together. âI am nowâŠcowboy.â
They let another vinyl play before undressing, every movement sensual and considered as they removed boots and unbuckled belts between slow, thorough kisses. With hats relegated to the couch for now, Javier untied the silk bandana from Horacioâs neck, teasing smooth fabric along the nape and tossing it to the floor, revealing faded tan lines from the unforgiving summer months. Buttons from their plaid shirts were next, followed by jeans and underwear, chestnut lost in charcoal as they stood bare in each otherâs arms but for the silver and gold pendants.
Neither felt the need to give into temptation, not yet, at least. Instead, they put on another record and danced, hand in hand, skin against skin, soul against soul. Because they were never in a rush anymore; now they had all the time in the world. Now they were home.
#Narcos fic#Narcos#Javier Peña#Horacio Carrillo#Carrillo#Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo#Pedro Pascal#Maurice Compte#Narcos fanfic#Narcos fanfiction#Narcos fan fic#My Fan Fic#My Narcos Fic
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countdown to 2024 @choicesfandomappreciation
deadlines? we don't know herđđ
đŒ so many works to shoutout- so brace yourselves gang- this'll be a long one
now- without further ado- here are some writers that made my year:
đ€@thedistantshoresproject
sending love to the whole team on board who are working tirelessly to finish this magnificent project. i was so excited to read the demo this year! knowing how long the journey has been and reading the updates each week- i realize how weary yall must be and hope that i can convey my gratitude for bringing back our favorite pirates in one awesome sequel đ€
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đ€@bloodboundsiege
another demo for the books- and another fanmade project that i am rooting for; i personally have only read through finn's demo but i'm already in love with all the characters. plus- who wouldn't be excited for the chance to romance gaius??? there is a ton of lore in op's blog for all the new lis that i 100% recommend to read through. excited to see what's in store in the new year!
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đ€@hashiedraws
the way i ran to play this story when it droppedđ if yall are fans of ilw- then you may know that one of the artists released this wonderful vn this year. it's a story that keeps on serving đŸ the artwork is incredible and the accompanying story is an absolute treasure. i was on the floor- in tears- jaw-dropped. trust me- it was an experience. one i recommend yall take too đ
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đ€ @lovehugsandcandy
the queen of colt- and tbh- one of my literary muses. your writing is such an inspiration to me and having you back on the dash this year for blades was definitely a highlight đ€ a snippet from one of my favorite fics this year:
read 'bound' here
"Of course. We have plenty of time for that... don't we?"
âBecause youâre not leaving?â
He squeezes her hand. âIâm not leaving.âÂ
Itâs a whisper more powerful than any rope.
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đ€@jerzwriter
the heart you have is so warm and inviting- and it shows with each work you've sharedđ€ i've cherished reading your works for trystan x carolina- picking one to highlight seems cruel but i'll give it a shot lol. their banter/dynamic is so beautifully portrayed and never fails to bring a smile to my face:
read 'tricks and treats' here
âThere is no Trystan,â he snickered, playfully pulling her close. âOnly the Big Bad Wolf..uh.. no.. I mean Grandma! Iâm Grandma, trust me.â
âGrandma? What big paws you have!â she beamed as he nuzzled into her neck and playfully growled.
âThe better to paw you with, my dear...â
âWell, you can paw me once we get to the party. Weâre very late.â
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đ€@theoriginaltortuga
your four part series- 'responsibility, rage, and recent resurrection' was such a good read and deserves some love. it ain't a secret i'm a big ilw fan- and a sucker for bonus scenes. reading a more fleshed out version of connor's eventual turning was *chef's kiss* immaculate- i shamelessly go back to this fic from time to time:
read 'responsibility, rage, and recent resurrection' here
Grief and terror had been a part of Connor since the night Devon died. The feelings came and went, but they never left completely and Connor worried that he would never feel peace again. With Devon alive but unconscious, a massacre set for a few days, and the man whoâd killed his mother on the loose; those feelings were more overwhelming than ever. Not to mention the anger that had been festering in his chest since his mom was killed. All of it led back to one simple thing: Westchester wasnât safe.Â
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đ€@linkysmommy
mother lincoln- i wanna thank you for blessing me with not only ilw itself but ilw fics (and some other works of yours i've recently had the pleasure of readingđ) though, imma pivot real quick from ilw and actually give some praise to another project of yours- and the reason i downloaded storyloom in the first place- open heart: a toxic situation. what a story full of mystery, romance, and âšbryceâš (there are multiple lis to choose from- i just really love bryce lmao)
read this beauty right here
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đ€ @saibug1022
the angst legend- i go to you for the hurt lmaoo. but really- it is a talent to write the way you do and i'm lucky to reap the benefits of reading your work. the time you put into crafting your mcs- making them fully fleshed out blorbos- then giving the most heart-wrenching scenarios to deal with- incredibleâš here's some love for the villain stories out there:
read 'a funeral of faith' here
âI had no place in Undermount while humans and orcs treated me like an outsider. I was kidnapped and tortured while my friends and two of the men I loved gave up on me and left me to die. And the other man I loved used and betrayed me for power and disappeared when I still forgave him.â
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đ€ @professor-abeloved
prepare to be adored, admired, and appreciated- your mcs are everything to me. the way you write is so special and uniquely you- and i love your work dearly. i've got your fics seared in my brain- here's one of the many (bc we as a fandom silently agreed that linc angst just hits different):
read 'lincoln's bad day' here
âSorry,â Ro called out for what felt like the nth time with an awkward grimace. âYou okay? I can get an ice pack or a salonpas orââ
âItâs fine,â Lincoln says, clutching his aching jaw. In some weird way, itâs surprisingly⊠therapeutic? Thereâs something about a being confronted with such raw, unimaginable Power that has the capacity to utterly destroy you if it chooses, but instead itâs draping a small, lilac cardigan over your shoulders as it looks you over for bruises.
read 'lincoln's bad day' here
âSorry,â Ro called out for what felt like the nth time with an awkward grimace. âYou okay? I can get an ice pack or a salonpas orââ
âItâs fine,â Lincoln says, clutching his aching jaw. In some weird way, itâs surprisingly⊠therapeutic? Thereâs something about a being confronted with such raw, unimaginable Power that has the capacity to utterly destroy you if it chooses, but instead itâs draping a small, lilac cardigan over your shoulders as it looks you over for bruises.
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đ€@mydemonsdrivealimo
bless your beautiful, magnificent brain- atp your hcs are my canon lmaoo. bryce and jensen are so special to me and it's no secret how much love you've poured into them through your work. slowly but surely, i'm getting around to reading all the fics of theirs. the ones i have read were amazing. time to shower praise for your most recent work (also i'm rooting for you- writer's block is a biatch):
read 'halloween' here
âHey, sorry,â Bryce said, giving his waist a quick squeeze before unceremoniously flopping into one of the chairs, the force sending it back enough that Jensen had to pull him closer.
âYouâre lucky I didnât lock you out and eat it for you,â Jensen said with a quick wave to the food in front of him, taking a seat in his own chair. âMâfucking starving.â He was already shoveling crab rangoon into his mouth, ignoring the steam coming off of it.
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đ€ @aria-ashryver
a ray of sunshine- you deserve the world and moređ„° one thing on my to-do list for the new year is to finally sit down and read SICSIG. from the snippets i've seen, i know i'll treasure the heck out of it. when i do- i apologize in advance for the person i become lmao (give it up for the poly romance yall)
read 'snow in crimson, starlight in gold' here
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đ€@me
self-love, amirite? reading through old works is either a hit or miss for me lol- but the process of writing has been a welcome journey of mine. from the frantic word vomit to staring at a blinking cursor- it's been a ride. and i'm thankful to everyone above for inspiring me to keep moving forward đ€
read whatever yall want here
---
this list could go on and on and i'm definitely missing some people- but to the writers out there: you are the heartbeat of the fandom and we are lucky to have you đ€
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