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#12 and had to lie down after school
steampoweredskeleton · 7 months
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My physio wants me to go outside and walk every day. I feel like I should have warned her that the likelihood of me having that kind of energy is incredibly small, and even if it's there, that energy needs to go towards shit like cooking before trips outside
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one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else
#i have to sleep a lot. i’m at the point where functioning requires 8 hours of sleep if not more#I should probably be getting 10+ but i’m a student and i work so 8 is the minimum. but then also getting ready for bed is a whole process s#the whole thing can take 10-12 hours depending how much im sleeping. just to make sure i can do anything#that is time in my day i cannot use for anything else. it’s not ‘oh but i can push through it’ because i can’t without spending the next da#lightheaded and nauseous and vaguely dizzy and with such intense brain fog I can’t think with my fatigue so bad i genuinely don’t know how#get myself to work a lot of days. my abled peers don’t have to deal with this at all. they have unlimited study time if they want to#and yeah it is a choice i’m making that’s true i could just not do. except i would lose my job and fail out of college because i would not#be able to get to classes or do my homework or think. but being told ‘but you are making choices about your life’ when i have lost so much#of what i used to be able to do because i am spiralling down and continuing to get worse is so.#literally last year i would wake up at 6:30 and then go to school till 3 and then go to my internship until 10 and get home at 11 and be in#bed anywhere from midnight to two in the morning and then wake up the next day and do it all again. i graduated with a 3.9 gpa and made it#into my top college while dealing with my cancer symptoms and then the two surgeries about it#but now i lose half my day to just making sure i can get out of bed. i can’t go anywhere because my body is physically too exhausted#any extra time goes into doing homework or occasionally time to myself#not decimating my health by doing minimum body care responsibilities isn’t freeing. occasionally i have a good day which is freeing but tha#usually goes into just. other things outside class or work or eating. I don’t go do something for myself or go do something fun on good day#because I still can’t. good days just mean i don’t want to lie down on the pavement when i’m going somewhere#I just. I don’t magically have control over my life because i try to get enough sleep. i lose half my day to doing that and ultimately it’s#just a bodily function that would have to happen anyway#this is a vent post im just having a really hard time right now because it feels like im in exponential decline. it was nowhere near this#bad last semester. my grades are tanking and i have no free time because anything outside of sleep is either work or school#vent tw#yall can rb this just ignore my tags completely#disability#chronically ill#i keep trying to explain to people how pots works because that’s all logical but there’s no way to explain what it’s doing to my body or ho#i feel all the time. the last time i felt this bad was when i had a bad flu or immediately after surgeries because i don’t react well to#anesthesia and always come out of them feeling like shit. and now i just feel like this all the time and it’s only getting worse#I can’t even stay up late anymore because my body feels like it isn’t counting the sleep even if I get 8 hours#I can deal if I have a free day the day after but that just leaves Friday and Saturday nights and I usually still have to do homework
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minty364 · 1 month
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DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 1
His parents studied ghosts. Danny didn’t understand as a kid why everyone made fun of his parents. Now that he was 12, the thought was ludicrous and yet his parents continued their work on the portal. Danny had his sister Jazz though and the siblings were rather close. 
Jazz had spent a lot of time studying lately stating that she wanted to get into a good college. Danny understood he did, but being alone sucked and he couldn’t help it as he sighed kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. 
It was a nice hot summer day, the kind of day you’d want to spend at the beach or a pool. Danny however had other ideas. He was on the way to the local library. If Jazz was going to spend her summer studying for the ACTs then Danny was going to study what he wanted, Space. He quickly found a few books and got settled into a chair as he read. Space really was fascinating, he hoped one day his dream of becoming an astronaut would come true. 
An hour or so passed before Danny was interrupted, “what are you reading?” The voice started Danny out of his trance as he looked up at his interrupter. A boy about the same age as Danny with the same black hair and blue eyes that Danny had. His skin was more tan than Danny’s own pale white. 
Danny fidgeted in his seat for a moment before answering, “Astronomy: guide to the stars” Sure, Danny knew the text was college level but he already read all the ones for high and middle school. 
Damian seemed to hum thoughtfully with a hand on his chin before speaking again, “the book you're reading seems advanced, you seem smarter than your age would dictate. Father has requested that I visit the library and try to ‘make a friend or two’ in his words. I don’t see the need for companionship but if I must I’d rather it be with someone intelligent. My name is Damian.” It was a bit much but Danny guessed from what Damian said that he was complementing Danny. 
“Uh, Danny… I guess most of the people in my family are pretty smart.” He replied after a moment. 
Danny thought it was odd that someone wanted to be friends with him. Everyone at the public elementary school he went to knew who his parents were so they wanted nothing to do with him. It was lonely but Danny didn’t mind it too much, but Damian didn’t act like he knew Danny’s Parents. The thought of having a friend that didn’t judge him for who his parents were made Danny a little excited. 
“What occupation do your parents have?” It was a simple question with a not so simple answer. 
Oh, Danny’s heart stuttered a little bit at the thought of Damian knowing anything about. He didn’t want to lie, especially to his new friend but he didn’t want to tell him the truth. 
“Uh, they’re scientists but I don’t really know what they do…” Danny said carefully and slowly. He was sure Damian bought it. 
The two spent the next couple hours just talking in the library. It had started to get late and Damian needed to head back home. 
“Do you own your own phone?” Damian asked, it wasn’t uncommon, for most kids in his class had a cheap hand me down phone for emergencies. Danny unfortunately didn’t as his parents probably didn’t care where he was.
Danny shrugged, “not really, I could borrow my sisters but it really only gets used for emergencies.” 
Damian seemed to frown at this thinking for a moment before nodding as if he came to a conclusion, “my brother Todd has mentioned that it’s hard for low income houses to afford something I’d consider a necessity in this city. You do know how high the crime rate is, yes?” Danny nodded but he didn’t know what that had to do with having a phone Damian cleared his throat before continuing, “as you are now my friend I’d like to offer to purchase one for you.”
Danny hadn’t owned anything like a phone before, “a-are you sure? I don’t really need one, my parents don’t really… care?” He felt uncomfortable with his new friend spending money on him, Damian seemed like an important person especially with the clothes he wore and how he carried himself. Danny felt like he’d be taking advantage of his new friend if he bought Danny a phone. Danny closed the book he was holding and took a breath before speaking again, “I appreciate the offer but I wouldn’t have anything to offer you in return.” He let his gaze fall to the cover of the book, a swirling galaxy on a black background and bold yellow text. 
“I would not have offered it if I wasn’t sure.” Damian stated firmly causing Danny’s head to snap back up, “I do not need anything in return, however if you really intend to pay me back, Father has insisted that I bring a friend home sometime. Since we have established that we are friends I insist that you come visit every so often to, as Richard puts it ‘get him off my back’.” It sounded like a simple request but Danny was unsure. If Damian was someone important then his family was bound to be even more important. 
He took a moment to think about it, but Jazz would be happy Danny finally made a friend…
“Alright, I accept,” Danny said as they shook hands. It might have been a little childish but he could tell he made some sort of bond with Damian. 
After that they had quickly become friends. Once Danny had become accustomed to being in the Wayne house he basically became family, and was often visiting, especially to eat Mr. Pennyworths cooking. Mr. Wayne also seemed fond of Danny, he even offered to pay for Danny to go to Gotham Academy along with Damian. Danny had been hesitant at first but Damian quickly wore him down. Tim eventually wormed his way into the group as he and Danny bonded over the latest video game releases. Soon Jazz got roped into the group too as she started to visit the manor to get away from how noisy the lab got. 
A couple years had passed since the day that started the road to their friendship and the four of them had really bonded since then. Unfortunately their parents had finished the portal and its here where things go downhill for Danny.
In the next one Danny dies and all 4 of them are deeply traumatized.
Damian saw his dad doing research on the Fenton family, Bruce is just looking out for potential rouges and Damian took the opportunity to become friends with Danny. He figured that he could just bribe Danny into being his friend like all the kids at his school try but Danny is a lil cinnamon roll. Taken aback from how sweet Danny is Damian decided that Danny really was smart and worth being a friend. Tim has the same thoughts especially as Danny starts visiting the mansion more. Jazz loved that Danny had a spot to go where people seemed to actually care about him and she eventually gets dragged into the group. You can only drop off your brother at the Wayne’s so often before you get dragged into the group as well and I thought Tim and Jazz can be the same age and can bond over being older siblings.
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juyeonszn · 8 months
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BAD IDEA RIGHT?
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PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 4.10k
GENRES … smut
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol
SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.
MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble
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If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.
To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.
Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.
You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.
The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.
The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.
You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.
“Woah, do you want a cushion?”
You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.
“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.
“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.
“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”
He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.
“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.
“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.
“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”
“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”
“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”
“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.
Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)
“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.
“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”
“Bro…”
You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.
“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”
“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”
“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”
You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.
“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.
“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.
You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.
The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”
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“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”
“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.
The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.
Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.
[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT
[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP
“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.
But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.
“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.
Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”
Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.
“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”
“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.
The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.
“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.
You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.
“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.
The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.
As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”
He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.
There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.
Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.
You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?
As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.
“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”
You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”
He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”
“Positive,” you breathe.
“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”
You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”
That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.
His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.
When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”
“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”
“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”
“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”
“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.
“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”
“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”
The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.
“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.
You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”
“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”
“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”
He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.
When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.
“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.
“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”
“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”
You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.
He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.
You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.
“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”
“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”
“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”
Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”
The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:
What the hell do you do now?
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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snowfll · 5 months
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Menace; Coriolanus Snow
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pairing - young!coriolanus snow x darker!reader summary - you may not be with coriolanus, but that won’t stop you from hurting anyone who tries to get with him words - 1.32k warning - reader is somehow WORSE than coriolanus. both reader and coriolanus get jealous easily. enemies to lovers type deal?? note - if you guys want a part 2 lmk!! requests are open so don't be afraid to request something! This is based off the song Menace by Mazie!!
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“Everything I want you know I’m gonna get it,” you warned Coriolanus as he taunted you about the plinth prize.
Dean Highbottom had just announced the last assignment that determines who will be awarded the prize: becoming a mentor for one of the twenty-four tributes. You both had been assigned to District 12, with you being given Jessup Diggs while Coriolanus got Lucy Gray Baird.
Ever since you were children, you and Coriolanus have been rivals; it started the day you had to fight him for food during the war. Every little thing leading up to this day has been a competition. Being as rich as your family is, you technically don’t need the money, but knowing poor Coryo does makes you want it anyway. You are going to win this prize, even if it is the last thing you do.
Making your way to a group of your classmates, you were right by Coriolanus, every stride matching his. For how much you two hate each other, you both are rather close; there is not a day you go without speaking to him.
As you reached them, you heard one of them calling your name, only to be faced with Arachne.
“So, you still coming to the party?” she asked. When you didn’t answer, she continued, “C’mon, don’t let this little setback stop you from partying.”
The group had planned to celebrate the winner of the Plinth Prize, whoever it was. Certain you were going to win the award, you agreed to attend the celebration. Who wouldn’t want to go to a celebration for them? Now, this was before the latest announcement regarding the award, but being the ‘party animal’, as everyone calls you, you were still going.
“Of course she is going, Arachne.” Coryo answered for you, smirking and staring down at you, “Ms. ‘life of the party’ would never pass up a chance to loosen up.” You rolled your eyes at his comment.
He knew damn well; he’s just as wild as you are at these gatherings, but no one ever calls him out on it. He’s too famous at this school for anyone to call him out on anything.
“I can answer for myself, Coriolanus,” you muttered. “And yes, I am going; you can count on it”
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Arriving at the party, you noticed your classmates were already drunk and high off their minds on morphling, this was expected. Most students take whatever chance they can get to stray away from all the stress caused by the Academy. However, you didn’t expect to see two girls hanging onto Coriolanus, who was enjoying it. You caught his eye as you walked into the room. All he did was smirk at you, knowing what you were thinking.
You wouldn’t say you are a jealous person- that is a lie. You are one hundred percent a jealous person. You and Coriolanus weren’t together and never will be, but there is still the silent communication that you two belong together. Everyone in the Capital knows it: Coriolanus Snow and the sweetheart of the Capital- a power couple. Knowing you couldn’t do anything about it at the moment, you let him do his thing and walked to grab a drink.
Throughout the night, Coriolanus stuck by one girl in particular, Persephone Price- the one girl who was not scared of you. Though she might after tonight, you’ll just have to teach her not to mess with what’s yours.
From your spot on the couch, you watched as Coriolanus and Persephone chatted. How she would giggle at everything he said like he was the funniest man in the universe. You could tell he was trying to irritate you as he watched you closely with the blonde girl on his lap. Persephone leaned down to plant a kiss on his lips, his eyes still on you as the kiss turned into something more.
Standing up, you rolled your eyes and made your way to the nearest available man, before dragging him to the dance floor. With your body pressed against the man - whose name you did not know, you couldn’t help but maintain eye contact with Coriolanus, wishing it was he who you were dancing with.
Once you took your eyes away from the lounge area, you allowed yourself to focus on the man behind you. After all your hard work at the academy and the rivalry with Coryo, you deserved to have fun; this man will help with that.
You were quite enjoying yourself before you heard a whisper in your ear, “Your little boyfriend and his girl just walked up the stairs.” Turning your head just in time, you were able to catch a glimpse of Coriolanus being led into a room with Persephone in front of him. “Go ahead, go follow them.” You felt awful knowing he was aware you were just using him, but you thanked him nonetheless before escaping his grasp.
Walking into the room, anger filled your system, seeing clothes scattered around and Persephone on top of Coryo on the bed. The moment he saw you, she was pushed off of him immediately.
“Get out,” You motioned with your head towards the door, your eyes still locked with Coriolanus, only turning your head to face her once she stayed where she stood, “Now.”
Realizing she wasn’t going to leave, you ran up to her and pushed her till her small body hit the wall. “You just don’t know how to listen, do you?” You kept hitting her head on the wall; if she wasn’t going to take her chance to leave, you made sure she wasn’t going to leave at all.
You heard Coriolanus call out for you to stop once you felt her body go limp in your hands. She wasn’t dead- at least you thought she wasn’t, but all you could feel was a sense of pride. You’ve seen Coriolanus do it before, many times, whether it was to someone who tried to get with you or just pissed him off.
“That certainly was exhilarating,” He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad for the girl laying on the floor; she knew what was coming, “and oddly familiar.” Coriolanus suddenly remembered the time he did the same thing to a guy at a previous party.
“Oh Coryo, you may have done it first, but you know I do it better,” you smirked while stepping over the girl’s body. You made your way to the pile of clothes on the side of the bed where he sat.
“Put on your clothes and meet me downstairs,” you told him, throwing him his white undershirt before putting on the sweater he had been wearing at the party. “You’re walking me home.”
“But everyone will see us walking out together.” Was he really worried about being seen walking out of the party with you?
You nodded your head before explaining how that is exactly what you want them to see. They need to know that no matter how hard they try, you have him wrapped around your finger. “As I told you before, Coryo. Everything I want, I’m going to get.” Whether it is his fame or his sweaters, you are going to own him.
“You’re a menace” he uttered, afraid of what you had just done. He wondered how you could do that to Persephone and proceed to simply take the cable knit sweater he was previously wearing.
Smiling, you turned him and made sure he heard your reply, “Don’t you forget it.” He watched you intently as you winked at him and walked out the door, leaving him to sit in the dark room.
He did walk you home that night, and everyone at that party watched as you exited hand in hand. Your peers now know not to mess with you when you want something.
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idesofrevolution · 28 days
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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega
There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.
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Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.
So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.
The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.
"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.
I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.
I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.
---
The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.
"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.
"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.
"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.
"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.
"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."
"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.
"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?
"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.
"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.
"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.
"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.
"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."
"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.
"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.
"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.
"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.
"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."
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The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.
"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"
He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.
We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.
"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.
"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.
"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.
"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.
"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.
"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.
"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.
"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.
"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.
"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.
---
The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.
At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.
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It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.
"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.
"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.
"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?
"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.
"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.
"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.
"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.
"How old are you, Santana?"
"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.
"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.
"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.
"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."
His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.
"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.
"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.
---
"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.
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"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.
"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.
"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.
"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."
"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.
"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.
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chaoticace2005 · 2 months
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List of WHERE THE FUCK DID VAGGIE COME FROM?? (and also other exorcists)
1. She was heaven-born: ichor as blood is limited to heaven-born, Adam named her, military schools from being exorcist, picked up Spanish elsewhere (a Winner maybe? We haven’t seen any other angels speak Spanish yet so…)
2. She was a human soul: ichor is in all beings living in heaven (as seen with Adam- but he may be a special case), Adam renamed her, military skills possibly due to past life?, where she learned Spanish
3. She is a human soul, and old info about Vaggie remains canon- she’s Salvadoran and died in like 2014
4. ^ That was a lie she told Charlie, and she either had a different life or doesn’t remember/have one on earth at all
5. She’s a human soul that died and went to heaven but lost her memories (either as all Winners do or just after she became an exorcist.) She didn’t have a name so Adam gave her one. Spanish was something she retained
6. She’s a human soul CHOSEN from Earth to be an exorcist. She didn’t die (maybe she was close though?) but they did take her from her life there and washed her memories away.
7. She went to heaven either by 5 or 6 and didn’t lose her memories. But she was forced to confirm and essentially take on a new identity.
8. She was spawned in some exorcist factory in heaven and that’s why Adam named her.
9. “Vaggie” WAS her name on Earth- Adam was her mom.
10. Adam actually went down to Earth and forced some random mother to name her daughter Vaggie because it would be “fucking hilarious.”
11. He actually didn’t name her, but Vaggie reminded him of Vagina so he started pronouncing it like that.
12. Adam laid eggs and she hatched from those.
13. She’s mothman’s daughter (the cryptid, not the icky douchebag demon.) She was raised on earth but because of her elevated status she became an exorcist when she died.
14. ALL exorcists are mothman’s children.
15. Exorcists are random birds picked from Earth after they complete a challenge.
16. Seraphims just pluck feathers out and boom: exorcist.
17. She wasn’t an exorcist. Adam just gaslit her really hard and also the stick up her ass caused her blood to change color so it resembles ichor. (Ghost written by Angel)
18. All exorcists were created at once by the angels. They all grew up and trained together.
19. Once you reach a certain level of the military on earth you become an exorcist when you die (so maybe it’s a free pass and you don’t have to be “good” to be an exorcist, which explains why some of them are so bent on violence. They didn’t have to go through the same screening as everyone else.)
20. They were conditioned to be like this, with Heaven propaganda and working in Hell made them so cold to demons, and having gone through a rigid military program.
21. They spawned fully formed whenever heaven needs more exorcists.
22. Vaggie isn’t real. She’s an illusion of their conscience. The real exorcist was in us all along.
23. Universe saw Charlie was lonely. Universe said, “here girlfriend.” What’s her backstory? They don’t know either.
24. Their blood is actually PISS and they’re spawned form porta-potties left outside too long.
25. Exorcists are people who died by lemons. When life gives people lemons (and kills them), they turn their blood into lemonade.
26. A glow stick factory in Heaven exploded due to Adam. This was the byproduct. Sera had no idea what to do with them so she gave them to Adam as punishment.
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AMITA for lying to everyone I know about my identity’s as a queer/neurodivergent person?
I (18M) am a bisexual, transgender man who is also autistic, ADHD, and OCD. When people hear this about me, even if they know me, I feel like they build up this image of me as an awkward, “cringy” 11 year old who’s obsessed with “cringy” fandoms. And while i have a qualm with this because I know they are looking down on people who are just less masked/higher support needs, I also dislike that they do this because it’s just not who I am. Without the labels, I mostly seem like just a normal dude, if not a bit nerdy.
I also used to be extremely bullied as a kid (7-12) to the point of a suicide attempt, mostly due to homophobic, transphobic, or ablest remarks about me. Since then I’ve completely changed community’s and do not talk to anyone i knew before high school.
When authority figures (Teachers, Show Directors, Investors of the teen programs I lead) apply ablest/transphobic stereotypes or prejudices to me, they also tend to be less,,, normal? around me. Less kind compared to other kids, call me an “inspiration”, or they’ll coddle me when I’m incredibly capable. I do a lot for someone my age- and I know the connections I make now at conferences and whatnot will help me in the long run. My dad’s family is poor, and my immediate family is more comfortable but not that much. I know I’m smart, and I can weaponize that to get a better life for my family by getting good scholarships and jobs in good fields. I can’t just let people who could be very important to my goals look down on me. So i just.. don’t tell them anything about me. They might assume Im odd or “not normal”, and for the most part I let them assume whatever, but if i’m ever asked directly about anything I deny it. Especially in relation to me being transgender; I have the very privileged ability to pass without any medical intervention, and I use that to pretend to be cisgender. Living in the deep south of USAmerica, most of who I am could make my social life very uncomfortable to downright miserable.
Here’s where the problem starts happening. when my social and (what i consider to be a) “professional” life occasionally touch, I wouldn’t be able to be out everywhere socially without someone I don’t want knowing finding out. So i don’t tell any of my classmates/friends/peers about any of my identities either. I hang out with queer and straight people, never be actively homophobic/ablest, and will be very vague about the two questions i’ve ever received about any of that stuff. It’s very, very exhausting to pretend all the time, every day, especially pretending that I’m cisgender because it’s a tricky game, but I can’t really back down and I’m afraid that I might get bullied again if I was ever open about it with classmates.
A few months ago, I was dating this guy, who i’ll call Kai (17M) Kai is also a transgender man, but does not pass at all and is comfortable with it. He’ll get shit sometimes, but also has essentially no straight friends. I told him I was queer when we became good friends, and then told him I was trans after we started dating. I also told him why I lie about being cishet or neurotypical, and while he didn’t seem happy he didn’t push it at first. I told him that I understood if he didn’t want to be in a secret relationship, but because of where we live and what I want to do I wasn’t comfortable with being out again. He said he still wanted to date me, and claimed he would support me, and we had a pretty good relationship overall.
A month after that, he started bringing it up again. He told me that I was more than my identity, and if people didn’t see me for who I am instead of stereotypes, it isn’t worth talking to them at all. And while I agree with the sentiment, it’d never be possible to just not hear someone if they were harassing me, and while I truely dislike a lot of the authority figures that I engage with, they are in the professional fields I’m interested in, and I’m incredibly lucky for getting where I am so early. Kai also said that since I am well known in our very small school (only 300 kids), being out could be a positive influence on what people think about autistic people or trans people. In a particularly heated fight, he even said I was doing a disservice or betrayal to my community by not representing or being proud of being apart of them publicly.
We broke up pretty soon after, but I think about what he said a lot. I know that I wouldn’t be the only out person at my school, and that my school is actually a lot better compared to most local schools, which are a lot larger and… dramatic, but I just don’t think I could be out without going back to how I used to be mentally. And Kai was right about how I could be a good influence on some of the meaner classmates- I do think some of my peers who I ingenuinely connect with might reconsider their prejudices if they knew I was transgender.
I’m intentionally choosing not to take the opportunity to do better. It wouldn’t ruin ALL my relationships with the authority figures I consider to be important holding, since it would just be my school, It might dampen one or two of them. Plus, I’m lying to pretty much everyone who knows me. They build relationships with a false idea of me, and I feel like an asshole sometimes because I’m not honest.
TLDR: I’m a transgender, autistic guy in a very bigoted community. Everybody thinks i’m cishet and neurotypical. AMITA for not being proud of who I am because of potential social losses, and AMITA for lying to people and giving friends/peers false ideas about who I am even if they would not be friends with me if they knew?
What are these acronyms?
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vettelsdarling · 10 months
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𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓
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➪This is the second part to “Good Together”
➪Read the first part here!
➪This is the final installment of “Good Together”
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Pairing: Lando Norris x Verstappen!Fem!Reader
Warnings: (18+ content) smut, oral (m receiving), praise k!nk, tiny bit angst, really smutty
Word count: 6.3k+
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“It’s rude to stare, you know?” Busted. Lando didn’t bother opening his eyes before he felt shuffling in the bed. You hogged the sheets as you went to grab some clothes from your closet. Lando swiftly covered himself with a pillow.
“I have to go talk to Kelly. Can you please leave?” You asked, throwing a bra and panties on the bed as you continued your search for something to wear.
“Hold on, okay? Just wait.” He decided to discard the pillow and got out of bed.
“What?” You turned around and tried your best not to look down. You saw something in his eyes. He was searching for answers. Answers you regretted giving the night before. Answers that you didn’t want to repeat.
“Why are you being like this?” He grabbed your arm, caressing it.
“Like what?” You shot back. All you wanted was for him to get out. After that, you definitely needed a margarita with Kelly.
“Why are you so hasty? So distant?” Lando left you no other choice, but to play dumb.
“What do you mean by that? I’m not distant. I’m right here.” Lando sighed and shook his head. He could clearly tell what you were doing, but he decided not to pry any further. Instead, he decided to give you the same treatment.
“Well, since we had a great time last night, I’d like to take you out tonight.” Bold. Very bold, you thought. You played him right back.
“No, actually. I have plans with someone else.” It was a quick lie that you’d be able to cover up by calling your brother. Maybe even another driver. Lando tried his best to keep it together but failed miserably. The image of you wrapped up in someone else’s arms disgusted him. Even if that someone was Carlos. Sure, they were friends, but he had no regrets about anything.
“Stop being immature and tell me what you want,” he said as he glared at you. Your eyes met his again. They showed a hint of desperation this time.
“What I want? What I really want?” There was a slight tug on your lip, restoring the tiniest bit of hope in Lando.
“Tell me, baby,” he smiled.
“Well… I really want…—“ You hesitated before continuing,
“I really want you to put some clothes on and get the hell out of my apartment.” His smile instantly dropped. You didn’t care. You returned to your closet, trying to find whatever would fit for day drinking.
“You know what? Fuck you,” he spat, as he got dressed,
“You go tell Carlos that we’re not a thing. Maybe you can beg him to take you back. I certainly won’t be in the way anymore.” He finished getting dressed before you, took his jacket, and slammed your front door behind him.
Once again, you were alone. Left to sit and soak in what you’d done to Carlos. At that point in time, with the shock of what had happened the night before, you didn’t care about hurting Lando. Sure, maybe he didn’t deserve it— but that was a problem the future version of you would have to deal with.
You got dressed and grabbed your phone from your bedside table. 5 missed calls and 12 new messages all from Carlos. Your heart sank. Whilst you’d been busy doing his best friend, he had tried to call to talk things out completely. You ignored it for the time being, and sent Kelly a quick text,
‘Hey, Kelly… up for some day drinking?’ Lucky for you, she saw the text and replied almost instantly,
‘Of course, I’ll tell Max I have some business to attend’. You went around your place, trying to find everything. After you did, you locked your front door behind you and went outside. You didn’t own a car, as the expenses of law school never really allowed you to. Instead, you decided to take the bus. That was the beauty of not being in the media all that much. Not a single soul recognized you on the bus. You were able to get to your brother’s house with no trouble at all.
When you arrived, you waited for Kelly to come out. However, when you noticed a fiat jolly parked out front. It was hard to believe your eyes, but they didn’t deceive you. Without much thought, you decided to go straight inside. You memorized the passcode to the flat, as you came regularly.
Going in, you tiptoed past the living room, found a place to remain somewhat hidden, and observed your brother and Lando. They weren’t playing video games like they usually were. No, they were conversing. You saw Lando sigh into his hands. They were most definitely talking about you. Still keeping yourself hidden, you moved closer so that they were in earshot.
“Maybe you were reading her wrong this morning?” Asked your brother to try and calm the Brit down.
“I don’t think so. Besides, how would I apologize for saying that stuff to her?” You didn’t really know what to think. On one side, Lando had told you that he loved you. On the other side, he had yet to show you. How were you supposed to trust him after he betrayed you?
“Oh, you’re here! Let’s go!” A voice behind you bubbled. You turned around to see Kelly standing there with Penelope hugging her leg. The little toddler went on to hug yours instead whilst smiling fondly at you.
“You almost gave me away, Kelly!” You whisper-yelled. She didn’t say anything and looked behind you as if there was someone there.
“Gave you away? Were you trying to avoid us?” Max asked. When you turned around yet again, you saw your brother standing there with Lando at his side. You were filled with embarrassment. The kind of embarrassment you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Not at all. I’m just here for Kelly.” You only dared to look into the eyes of Max. There was no way you could bear to even catch a glimpse of Lando’s face staring back at yours.
“Oh okay, where are you going?” It almost felt like an interrogation, which Kelly luckily saved you from,
“Stop grilling your sister, would you? We’re just going out to shop and eat.” She pulled you with her to the front door, leaving Penelope with Max and Lando.
“Please make sure ‘P’ eats something light for lunch, I’m making dinner tonight!” Kelly yelled before closing the door behind her. The two of you got into Kelly’s car and she started the engine. After driving away from the house, you felt more at ease. Just being in the vicinity of the curly-haired Brit made your head pound.
You still hadn’t called Carlos back. You didn’t know if you could. Especially after sleeping with his best friend on the same day as your breakup. Your stomach was knotted with guilt. You could hardly think of getting anything down. How Carlos would ever think of forgiving you, you couldn’t imagine. The Spaniard had always been there for you. He’d always shown you how much he loved you. Although he hadn’t told you directly, you knew that he only had eyes for you. Everything he did, he did for you. Here you were, the second your past crush waltzed back into your life, you pounced. Had you ever been in love with Carlos? Did you ever actually feel anything for him? Was he just a temporary replacement for Lando?
You didn’t know whether to indulge in your own delusion, whether the delusion wasn’t a delusion, or whether to blame yourself. It’s hard for anyone to own up to their mistakes, but something like this was hard to own up to. Mostly because your mind was too clouded with guilt to see if you actually were in the wrong.
Carlos swooping in at the soonest opportunity didn’t seem too far-fetched though. His timing had been awfully convenient. The two of you started talking soon after Lando stopped talking to you. It could only mean one thing; Lando had confided in him and he used that information to get closer to you— eventually going as far as getting infatuated with you.
Was it a mere delusion, or was there maybe some truth to it? In any case, you were more than ready to drown it all out with booze. You didn’t have to wait long, as Kelly parked the car in front of a bar. You unfastened your seatbelt and quickly made it inside.
“Okay. I have one rule. Get as drunk as you want, just don’t get me too drunk,” she said with a chuckle. You went up to the bar and took a seat.
“We’ll start a tab. A Long Island iced tea for me, please.” Kelly gave you a shocked look before ordering her drink.
“Are you kidding? How bad is it?”
“I just don’t want to think about it anymore. I don’t want to think about him anymore,” you sighed and rested your head on the table in front of you. Kelly rubbed the bridge of her nose.
“Look, I saw you when things were good between you and Lando. Do you know what I saw in that? Raw and real chemistry,” she encouraged. You were unsure if you enjoyed her feeding you more delusions, but it felt comforting. Kelly usually had a comforting energy around you.
“I don’t know, Kelly. Why would he suddenly just not talk to me if we had that much chemistry?” The bartender slid you your drink and Kelly’s. You immediately took a sip of yours. The straw in the tea only elevated the experience of drinking it. For multiple reasons. Not only were you drinking with a straw, but you were also drinking on an empty stomach. Only time could tell how wasted you were going to end up before the bartender would have no choice but to cut you off.
“Didn’t he already tell you why? Come on, it’s right in front of you, honey,” said Kelly with a roll of her eyes.
The dilemma was that you couldn’t tell if you were feeding yourself hopeless delusions or if something suspicious actually happened. Carlos was such a sweet and gentle soul, but with so many things going on all at once; it was hard to rule out the possibility that he’d taken you from Lando.
“Hello? Stop spiralling, okay? I’m sure Lando feels awful for what he did to you… maybe forgiving him is a great first step, you know?” Kelly’s maternal instinct is exactly what made you like her that much more. She was right. You knew she was, but again, you hated admitting it. Perhaps you weren’t being fair to Lando. Not only had you actually admitted to still being in love with him, but you’d also acted on it. On the exact same day, you’d broken up with Carlos.
As time passed, you only got more and more drunk. The bartender decided to cut you off, and Kelly was in no position to drive either. You were far too gone to carry out another conversation with her, and she had fallen asleep on the counter. You then made the decision to call Max to come to get you in his car and to bring someone else so that Kelly could get her car driven home as well. The way you slurred your words and barely formed a coherent sentence worried him. You immediately blacked out after hanging up, thereby joining Kelly on the counter. It was only a distant hope that you wouldn’t have some drunken fever dream epiphany by the time you’d wake up.
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By the time you woke up, you were in your bed at your brother’s place. Your head felt like somebody had rammed it into a wall. Your nausea wasn’t any better. It didn’t help much that it was pitch black, besides the moonlight shining in from behind your curtains. You could see the slight lighting on the window ledge. It was enough for you to see where you were going. You’d pulled yourself out of bed and headed into the kitchen to get something to drink. An educated guess informed you that it was past midnight, so you had to be careful not to be too loud.
“You’re not sneaky, you know?” You nearly dropped your glass of water when you heard the voice creeping up from behind you. It was clearly Max. He had that tired voice you remember from having to wake him up in the mornings to take you to campus.
“Max? You startled me…” your eyes squinted when he turned on some of the lights in the kitchen. It wasn’t too bright, but your eyes had just adjusted to the dark.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.” You somehow felt like that was your fault. Going out and drinking yourself shitfaced. It wasn’t exactly the best idea. Your brother cared for you to no end, so you could understand his concerns.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you…” Your headache was a bit too overpowering to actually deal with anything at the moment though.
“You know, I really think Lando is in love with you. I don’t just think he likes you, I really do think he’s in love,” said your brother and grabbed a fresh apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island.
“I don’t know… he really hurt me, Max. What do I even say or do with him?” You sighed and gulped the last bit of your water down. Your throat was so dry, you could feel every last drop of water trickle down your throat. Max put his apple aside to pull you in for a tight hug. You could barely breathe, but you wrapped your arms around his back as well.
“I love you, okay? I just want what’s best for you. That’s why I’m telling you to hold onto Lando. It’s not just because he’s my best friend. I just never saw that spark between you and Carlos. You and Lando? I saw it all the time. I saw the way you looked at him and the way he looked at you,” he said as he pulled away from the hug. It was hard for you not to cry. You were still a bit drunk after all.
“I love you too… I’ll talk to Lando in the morning. Is he here?” Your brother nodded without saying anything in response. Shit. The thought of committing to Lando was frightening, but you trusted Max and his judgment.
“Is he… awake?”
“I’m not sure. He’s sleeping on the couch. I have to get back to bed, but try your luck.” He left the kitchen and you heard the door to his bedroom close.
Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was caught in your throat. You were in no condition to confront Lando, but you felt like doing it anyway. With heavy steps and a pounding head, you made your way to the living room. Max was right. There he was. Lando slept soundly on the couch. You noticed he didn’t have a blanket to sleep with, so you grabbed one from your blanket basket beside the TV. When you draped it over him, you saw his face ease into the warm feeling. It felt awfully domestic looking at him sleep, but it also felt like you were violating his personal space.
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You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up and eventually fell asleep on the floor by his side. When Lando’s eyes fluttered open to the morning sun, he noticed the blanket that was so delicately placed on top of him. Then, he noticed you. He noticed your hair, your smell, your lips… he was mesmerized by the sight of you sleeping, slumped against the couch.
“I think she’s trying.” Lando heard Max come into the living room.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… I talked to her earlier. She’s hurt by what you did. I think she’s confused too. She doesn’t really know how to talk to you. Maybe you should try?” Max said and left abruptly after. He was already in a fresh set of clothes, so Lando assumed he had a meeting.
“Kelly left breakfast for the two of you, by the way. I’ll be off. See you.”
Silence. It was completely silent in the house. It was just you and Lando alone. Together. The realization nearly made Lando’s breathing come to a screeching halt.
“Hey… wake up.” He stroked your hair and gently shook your shoulders. Lucky for him, you were an extremely light sleeper. When he saw your tired eyes open to the sight of him, he swore he could’ve died and gone to heaven. He’d seen the only blessing he’d ever need in his life. The way your eyes fixated on his… he could barely take it.
“I was hoping we could… talk?” Lando helped you up on the couch. There was an awkward air between the two of you. It was hard to communicate, and you’d always known that communication was key.
“Sure, I guess.” It was an appropriate response, considering the awkwardness of the situation. You didn’t owe him much anyway… Did you? You curled up with the blanket. Lando let you have it, as he didn’t need it anymore. Both of you were waiting for the other to start. Lando was the one to cave in, however.
“Max came in just a few minutes ago. I know now that I should’ve been more patient with you. Having broken your trust, I shouldn’t have been so selfish about it. I should’ve waited for you to be ready.
“I appreciate you admitting that. I really do, Lando…” You looked down at your fingers sheepishly. Looking directly at the Brit whilst saying that felt too raw.
“—But?” Asked Lando. He knew there’d be a ‘but’ after that. He wasn’t wrong. There was.
“—but I don’t know whether or not to give you a chance. I just don’t know how to go about it,” you sighed into the blanket that comforted you.
“Can I hug you?” The tone of the question almost sounded like he was begging for your touch. You didn’t mind though. You pulled his head into your chest, letting him hear the beat of your heart. Fast but gentle. You stroked his curls, which he loved. It was like a drug to him. Your touch was intoxicating. Especially when it was so domestic and calming. Lando snuggled deeper into you and pulled the blanket over the both of you. At that point, you were leaning against the arm of the couch.
“I missed you,” he mumbled. You could hear the sincerity in his words, but you didn’t want to give in to trust too easily.
“I’ve always been right here.” Something about those words tugged harshly at the McLaren driver’s heartstrings. He felt that dip of guilt he always felt whenever you brought up Luisa. He knew it wasn’t a guilt trip. You were hurt for obvious reasons and you had every right to keep yourself reserved.
“I’m sorry, bunny.” Bunny. A nickname you hadn’t heard in a while. He used to call you that to annoy you, but you found it oddly comforting now.
“I know, Lan,” you sighed and leaned your head back to stare up at the ceiling,
“I just wish you would have come to me about everything earlier. I wouldn’t have hurt Carlos and you and I…” you trailed off. Was it really that hard to finish the sentence? It was as if something was preventing you from doing so. Some spiritual power.
Instead of saying something— anything, Lando pulled away from you and instead caged you under his body. Your eyes met his, as he dipped down to get closer to your face. Your lips parted. He took note of that, as he attacked them with his own. Those pretty little lips of yours were his to swell up. That pretty hair of yours was his to pull. That radiant skin of yours was his to bruise.
Just like before, there was no liquid courage involved. It was pure lust and boldness coming from the both of you. Lando pulled his shirt off. He put the statue of David to shame with his body that looked as if it was carved out of marble. God and the way he looked at you with adoration. You couldn’t help but succumb. Likely not in the way that he wanted, though.
You decided that you wanted to take control. If anything, gratitude is what he felt. The two of you flipped, with you on top of him. Your hips were against his, but you decided not to start grinding yet. You wanted him to be patient, as he hadn’t been before. You wanted to teach him a lesson once and for all. Your lips came down on his, biting his under lip— which he enjoyed a tad bit too much. You could tell by the twitching in his pants. He was definitely feeling restrained and you relished in making him feel that way. He deserved it.
Taking things to the next step, you took your tank top off painfully slow. The moment your bra was in sight, Lando sat up. You were quick to reject his advances and push him down again,
“Ah ah, you don’t get to touch. Patience.” The way he listened to you like an obedient little dog made you feel so powerful. You were in a position you’d always dreamed of being in.
You’d never slept with Carlos, but you had the feeling that he wouldn’t let you do something like that. Lando? He was more than happy to give up control, and you loved it.
Your hand slid down his chest, making him shiver with delight. The closer you came to his lower region, the harder he seemed to breathe. You could feel his excitement against your pelvic floor. Upon adjusting your position to completely match, Lando took it as if you were starting to please him. To give in to his needs. After all, whatever he desired was exactly what you desired.
It was too hard for you to keep the act up. You were just as hot and heavy as he was. Waiting for it was painful. Even for you, who hadn’t gotten action in months before you got it from the Brit. Your chastity was only what turned the both of you on even more. The way you’d only ever been used by few did it for him.
You leaned down to kiss him, thereby letting him unclasp your bra. He flung it into a corner, nearly hitting the flatscreen. Your brother would’ve ended your life, if sex would’ve knocked over his precious TV.
It was easy to tell that the curly-haired driver had gained more than a little too much confidence, as he asked you to take him down your throat. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You were more than happy to, but it’d be too easy. Although your patience was running out, you wanted his to be as depleted as possible. You wanted to see the desperate look in his eyes as he would beg you. The thought of it was enough to convince you to hold onto your own patience.
What was the purpose of drugs when you had sex? You were high on the feeling, and drunk on Lando’s expressions. He loved the way you looked on top of him. The way you were so confident and almost vicious.
“I want you so bad.” There it was. The first step towards a constantly begging Lando. What you’d done at your place was nothing compared to this. It wasn’t just a quickie either. The two of you both held the utmost respect for the other, wanting nothing but pleasure.
“You’ll get it if you’re patient, Lan,” you said with a small tug on your lips. He hated waiting. Patience might’ve been a virtue, but it sure as hell wasn’t his strong suit. Even with Luisa. He rushed into things with her, without realizing that he was in love with someone else. The two of you both had more than enough time, but all he ever did was rush. Lessons are taught for a reason. To make it his forté, you taught him using sex.
You kicked the blanket off and got off him, so that you could move further down his body, stationing your face between his thighs. Oh, how he wanted it. Just to watch him breathe out with an even shakier breath, you tugged at his boxer briefs with your teeth. You made sure to take a lick of his skin in between the tugging. His gasps were egging your heat on. It had risen to your head. Your mind was swimming in it even though the air conditioning had been turned on.
When you finally got them off with the help of your hands, his dick stood proudly in front of you. With beaming eyes, you admired that one, particularly prominent vein. Lando was obviously over the bend after waiting so long for you to do something— anything. Truly, anything. He craved your tongue, the walls of your mouth, and the back of your throat.
You gave him exactly what he wanted. Your tongue swirled around his tip. It was already leaking precum. The taste was salty, but like last time— you welcomed it with an enthusiastic smile. After having teased him enough with your tongue, you went down on him. His hands easily found your hair, pulling it into a messy makeshift ponytail. You learned from your lesson last time. Gag reflex? What even was that? The closer your nose got to his abdomen, the more you heard the sighs and seethes of the driver. He guided you up and down his dick, watching as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Maybe you still had to practice some more. You had just the right way to do it in front of you. Practice makes perfect.
As the pace sped up, you relinquished control and let him use your mouth to unload himself. He deserved it after you kept him waiting for so long. Closer and closer, he was almost at the end of his rope, trying desperately to catch the tide below. With one final push of your head, he released himself down your throat. You eagerly swallowed everything like the good girl you were.
“You took me just perfect, bunny.” That nickname really did something for you. A tingle in your abdomen forced you to act on your desires. Your heart was beating fast and you weren’t really sure if you even had a thought going through your mind. You were drunk on his cologne, his shampoo, his body wash— everything. You wanted him bad.
“Ride me,” said Lando with hooded eyes, looking down at you. You didn’t know what to say. It’d certainly be a first. Whatever confidence you had before was gone. Lando’s pure sex appeal and desperate need for you had thrown it all out the window. Patience was no longer a virtue. Patience was a social construct. One that you wanted more than anything; to defy with no remorse.
You were swiftly able to kick off your shorts along with your panties, having them join your bra. Lando adjusted himself to sit upright to make your experience better. Instead of letting him enter, you decided to lubricate his dick with your slick. You started grinding against him, coating every inch of him with you. Not only did it make him hard again, but it also ensured his continued lust for you. Fuck, did you love the way we grabbed your hips, squeezing them the way he did. He was simply intoxicating.
It wasn’t long before you’d had enough and needed him. He helped by aligning himself. You slowly sank down on him, barely being able to take all of him. He didn’t rush you. He gave you the time you needed to adjust to his size. The stretch was unfathomable. Not something the average woman would expect in her lifetime.
“You’re doing so good, darling,” the Brit responded to your continued whimpering and heavy breathing. You were an absolute sucker for praise. You used his shoulders as a crutch, which he was more than happy about. That way, he was able to see the dip of your breasts and the way they’d come to bounce back and forth as you rode him.
When you began moving, you immediately felt his fingers dig into your hips. He was evidently trying not to hurt you too much, but the way he seethed and looked at you with those gorgeous blue-grey eyes— he wasn’t great at hiding it.
You closed your eyes and threw your head back as you began to go faster. Your moans bounced off the walls and his groans ricocheted with them. You saw stars. You felt fuller than after a whole Thanksgiving meal. He was big, and judging by his smirk in between his sighing and groaning— he knew exactly just how big he was. Lando was more than proud of the fact that he could please in ways nobody ever would.
“Lando- fuck,” you could barely form a coherent sentence. Your mind was too hazy and drunk on his dick. There was no such thing as multitasking. There was only riding and moaning.
“Fuck, baby, say my name again,” he responded. He could tell you were starting to get tired, by the way your legs started giving out. Respecting your wishes of wanting to stay on top, he kept you there. Only, he started thrusting into you with all the force he could muster.
“Lando,” you repeated. You sang his name like a Christmas carol. You sounded divine. He loved hearing his name spill uncontrollably from your swollen, little lips.
The two of you were both getting close. It was a stroke of luck that you’d started birth control when you met Carlos. You’d almost cancelled your prescription, due to Carlos never seeming interested in that sort of thing. You were more than happy with your decision to keep taking it.
Lando went faster, trying to get you to go before him. You were his number one priority. He needed you to finish before him. He wanted to spoil you. Your hips were red with marks he left from all the squeezing.
Your vision was blurry and you saw a faint light in the corner of your eye. It was likely the sun peering in from the windows, but paired with the blurring; it felt like you were in another plane of existence. Your walls started tightening. You felt it like an electric shock zooming through every nerve ending in your entire body. You bit your lower lip to avoid screaming out the curly-haired Brit’s name, but he was not having it. He wanted to hear you. Hell, he wanted all of Monaco to hear you. Loud and clear.
“Don’t you dare stay silent. Scream. Scream for me, bunny.” You weren’t a brat. You did exactly as you were told. To the point. You screamed his name, as your walls constricted Lando’s movements. Your sweet essence ran down his dick. Just the sight of it paired with the inability to move inside you pushed him over the edge as well. With a deep groan and a feeble attempt at a thrust, he painted your walls white with his cum. You were his canvas and painting was his hobby.
“That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” you sighed and let yourself fall against him.
“I know, bunny, I know”.
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The rest of that week was filled with Lando. He drove you to campus, he drove you home, he drove you to go see friends, he brought you to his races, and he had you wear his McLaren fits.
Carlos came to understand the situation, as he’d not been in the right mindset from the get-go either. It was still awkward around him, but his friendship with Lando still went strong… despite the betrayal on both sides. He had admitted to going for the opportunity, knowing Lando was into you. The two of them were fairly quick to forgive and forget. You couldn’t quite make sense of how they did so.
Even though Lando pampered you to no end, you were still stuck. You still couldn’t tell whether or not to trust him. Kelly told you to let it go. Max told you to let it go. All of your friends told you to forgive Lando. You still had yet to do so. The trust issues had cut so deep, it had disconnected you from any sort of common sense whatsoever. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to trust him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You didn’t have it in your heart.
So, one day, whilst lying in your shared hotel suite, you contemplated sitting down with Lando to talk. He’d just finished qualifying, so it was the perfect opportunity.
When Lando walked through the door, you saw a look of elation etched onto his face. It likely meant he did well, which, of course, made you just as excited. You got out of bed to go congratulate him on his position.
“I’m guessing you did well?” You popped up in front of him. Oh, how he loved seeing you in your tiny shorts and his hoodie. Your hair was messy from shifting in the bed, but he didn’t seem to mind. It added to your rawness and your natural beauty. This was exactly what he wanted to come back home to every single day.
“P3, bunny.” His smile lit the entire suite up. He was really that amazing.
“Congrats, Lan,” you smiled into a kiss and buried your face in the crook of his neck when hugging him. He stroked your hair and hummed. His love language was physical touch, and he loved it whenever you’d indulge in it.
He saw a pile of files, documents, and photos lying on the desk of the table. It was a case you were studying for your upcoming exam. The thought of having you take your material with you for him pained him, but seeing as you didn’t mind; he didn’t say anything about it.
“Actually, could we talk for a second?” For whatever reason, Lando’s heart immediately dropped to his stomach. He knew of those words all too well.
“Of course, Bunny. You can talk to me. What’s wrong?” The two of you took a seat on the bed. It sank with your combined weight.
“I’ve actually been wondering… well… I don’t actually know how to go about saying this,” you started. The tone of your voice didn’t give him any hint as to what was to come, but he had a slight idea of what it was about.
“You can tell me anything,” he urged.
“I just have this nagging feeling that you’ll leave me again. I just… I want to know that I can trust you.” Although it was exactly what he’d expected, it still shook him to hear it out loud. The fact that you looked like you really needed him to tell you outright, saddened him. He didn’t blame you, of course. He just couldn’t help but feel hurt.
“I would never do that to you again,” he tried to reason, but you cut in,
“You did it once before. I’m scared you’ll do it again, Lando” You rarely used his name. You always resorted to nicknames and shortening it.
“Believe me, Bunny. Look at me. Look into my eyes,” he pleaded. You did as he asked and stared into his desperate eyes. He clearly wanted to do right, but you were blind. You had to hear it. You needed to hear him say it right.
“I love you. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’ll say it a thousand times if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.” He took your hands in his and gave them a light squeeze.
“I can’t even imagine a life without you if I’m being completely honest. The way you came to greet me at the door. I mean, why would I ever leave you? I’m so lucky to have you waiting for me after every race. So lucky to be able to wake up with you next to me. I was just a fool to realize it so late, Bunny.” He hoped it was enough. He hoped it had gotten through to you.
“I love you too, Lan. I love you so much.” You leaned into a gentle kiss, carefully intertwining your fingers with his soft curls. You felt his hands cup the sides of your face, caressing the back of your ears with his index finger.
“You and Carlos weren’t, but we are,” whispered Lando after pulling away from the kiss, forehead pressed against yours. You looked into his mesmerizing, blue eyes. The same ones you fell in love with before everything went down. The same ones you’d always loved.
“What?” You asked and chuckled, unsure what he meant by that. He smiled at you. You smiled at him.
“Good together.”
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𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...
𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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©vettelsdarling
𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
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womp-womp-waa · 24 days
Text
Aiden always wanted to be dead
He did ever since he was 12. When his parents didn't stay around the house long enough. When he acted like a machine.
Ben knew this better then anyone else.
Everybody thought Aiden was getting better after trying skydiving for the first time, but after you know him as well as Ben did then you know. You know the truth. That he never really did get better, he would just lie to anybody who asked.
Aiden could never be considered 'okay' or 'normal' by anyone else's standard. But for Ben Aiden is normal. Aiden could understand Ben and Ben could understand Aiden. That's why he knew when they first got sent into the phantom realm what Aiden would try to do.
He knew that Aiden didn't want to leave him alone, but he wouldn't be anymore. He had the others, so Ben knew that in Aiden's mind that justified him being more reckless. So when Aiden jumped off the wall without using the rope he wasn't surprised just scared that he would lose his cousin, someone who he considered to be someone he could talk to and be understood not judge. Luckily he managed to only get a sprained ankle as a reward.
Then it was the school. The school were everything went wrong. Aiden was standing at the door while Ben and the others hunted for the keys, it was an eventful night after helping Tyler off of the tree they didn't need anymore problems. Then he heard Ashlyn yell
"GET UNDER SOMETHING"
Immediately he grabbed Tyler and ducked underneath a desk with Logan under it. Over to the door he heard Aiden say something under his breath and then a sickening crack as he heard Ashlyn scream "AIDEN"
How much he wished that he could scream as well, that he can try and get Aiden to respond to him. His heart sank as he watched Taylor drag Aiden's body.
And at that moment he knew. Aiden was dead. Aiden got his wish. The same wish he had ever since he was 12 and Ben could only stare at the corpse of his cousin, his blonde curls coated in his blood. He hated to see Aiden like this, but he couldn't look away. Deep down he knew that Aiden would be back in the real world, but would he be alive. Could he bare to see him as a corpse.
His thoughts were interrupted as the ceiling broke and starting crashing down onto the group. In his mind the same message was replaying over and over again.
Please let him live, don't let his wish be true
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bradshawsbaby · 27 days
Note
Rhett's family isn't super picky on their coffee, but at the diner one day they make a batch of local coffee and Rhett (who takes his coffee with two creams) notices it tastes different. The waitress explains a new shop just opened and they are switching to their brand. Rhett enters the shop, very western themed and chock full of blue collar men - only to realize that the shop owner and the sole barista is quite the stunner. Safe to say, Rhett starts taking his coffee in town each morning after that.
Oh my gosh, yes 😍
You’ve had the dream of opening your own coffee shop since you were in high school, but you’ve also grown tired of life in the big city and long for the comfort and community of a small town. So when the real estate agent you hired finds a commercial space available in Wabang, it seems like the perfect fit.
The locals are a little wary at first, but you quickly win them over with your charming, rustic decor and your delicious, no frills coffee and warm, buttery croissants. It’s not long before you have regulars, but the only one who gets your heart racing and your blood pumping is Rhett Abbott. It doesn’t take you long to learn that the local rodeo star has a reputation as a ladies’ man, but he’s never been anything but a gentleman every time you’ve interacted with him, always leaving a few dollars in your tip jar with a shy smile before tipping his hat in your direction and walking out the door.
You wish he would stay every once in a while.
After a week, you know his routine like the back of your hand. He comes into the shop every morning at 7:12 on the dot, and he always orders the same thing—a large hot coffee with two creams, no sugar. So you start to have it ready for him, a gesture that seems to startle him at first, but then draws out more of those small, tentative smiles that you’re growing to love so much.
It’s not until a month into this quiet little back and forth that Rhett walks into the shop one morning—at 7:12, just like clockwork—and you set down a ceramic mug in front of him instead of his usual to-go cup.
“All out of to-go cups and my delivery got delayed,” you lie through your teeth. “Guess you’ll just have to stay for your morning coffee. But I’ll throw in a free croissant for the inconvenience.”
Rhett’s blue eyes widen, but then a smile curves his lips. “Not an inconvenience at all,” he tells you, his voice low and raspy. “Mind if I sit right here?” he grins, hooking a thumb towards the empty stools sitting in front of the counter.
“Not at all,” you smile, butterflies swarming in your stomach.
Rhett Abbott was definitely your favorite customer.
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greenerteacups · 29 days
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The great hormonal storms in book 5 lead me to this ask: let's talk about sex. Or at least sex ed. Does Hogwarts have it (at least in LH'verse)? Is that a nurse duty or a Head of House one? Did Narcissa sit her baby boy down for The Talk, at least to impart how Miss Granger would return to her parents in the same state she left them or at least unimpregnated? Did she outsource that task to Uncle Severus? Did Ron share what his older brothers passed down? What does our favorite victorian-in-spirit know abt sex beyond "lie back and think of the bloodline" and his hormonal daydreams?
I'm l o s i n g it at the idea of Narcissa instructing Draco to leave Hermione "unimpregnated," which, I just — I think the minute she uses those things in the same sentence, Draco hits the road at the speed of Mach Christ. He's gone. He's not here. He's not in the building. Can't have the Sex Talk if you can't fucking catch me, Mom. (For the record, I can fully see Narcissa trying. She's much less prudish than Draco is — gossips about adultery with her 11-y/o son on Christmas morning, references Ye Olde Wilde Times with Lucius, cracks the occasional bawdy joke, etc. — she just doesn't often see the need to discuss it, being aware that Draco, as far as she knows, remains an un-Awakened little Victorian. The Great Granger Debacle of 1995 is likely raising her suspicions there.) That said, Draco knows what sex is; for some reason my mind gravitates to the slightly handwavey answer of "boy's dormitory." I'm picturing him in his four-poster, curtains drawn, pretending to be asleep, while Ron and Harry have a free-ranging, horrifically creative conversation about what Ron thinks sex is (courtesy of the twins). Optimistically, Neville hops in with corrections from Augusta Longbottom's sexual etiquette seminars. Either way, Draco never, ever reveals that he has heard this conversation.
Or, alternatively, he and Theo have a really intense heart-to-heart during that summer before third year, which would do a lot to explain why the two of them are so weird about each other basically for the rest of time. (Raising the question of where Theo/Pansy/Daphne learned it. At age 12, Pansy got an excruciatingly detailed Talk from her mother, who was scared to death of a teen pregnancy pitching their family into ruin; Pansy, deciding it was unfair she had to suffer this and Theo did not, inflicted said Talk on Theo, who was just relieved that he didn't have to ask Sibelius. And Daphne grew up around so many healers that she just badgered them until someone gave in and told her. She's also a stated connoisseur of trashy romance novels, so. Make of that what you will.)
I think that Hogwarts, being modeled in mores and general Vibe from old English boarding schools, probably is not the most forward-thinking with sex ed. I also do believe Severus Snape would sooner jump off a bridge, and I kind of need him for the plot, so I've got to spare him that grave and important duty. Poppy Pomfrey probably gets the question the most of any staff member, and over the years, I think she's honed her answer down to a tight 3 minute-monologue that covers all major topics.
Odds and ends in the same vein:
Hermione gets a sit-down with the Drs. Granger the summer before her thirteenth birthday, so sometime in August, 1992. It is meticulously explained and flawlessly presented, with color-coded diagrams, an index, and a syllabus. It includes a diagnostic chart for common STIs and a spreadsheet on birth control options. Dr. Granger gets excited after a tangent about ovarian cysts and runs to pull out her old copy of Grey's. Hermione spends the whole time fully miserable, wondering why parents couldn't be like, greengrocers or something. (That doesn't stop her from asking questions, obviously.)
Ron, like all Weasley men of his generation, gets a knock on his door sometime around his 14th birthday, and Arthur invites him to "go fishing." This is code for "stand by the river and try to keep a will to live while your dad explains the mechanics of sex, its importance, and the value of waiting until you feel comfortable and safe sharing that level of intimacy with a trusted partner" (sic).
Fred and George got separate talks, because Arthur wanted to emphasize that he sees them as individuals; however, Fred ran back and immediately recounted it all to George, who proceeded to feign extraordinary expertise in it the next morning, to his father's horror.
Ginny's "go fishing" equivalent is Molly taking her out for tea and delivering a well-meant but incoherent combination of abstinence-only sex ed, aggressive body positivity, and highly technical discussions of how to insert a diaphragm. Ginny, who bullied the real story out of Bill years ago, is baffled, and to this day can't say for sure what she was supposed to take away from it.
Harry spends his 14th birthday at the Burrow. Ron and his brothers make a blood pact in advance not to tell him about it, though, so when Arthur invites him out for the day on August 1st, his sole thought is: oh, nice! Can't wait for some fun fishing :)
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bigdumbbambieyes · 11 months
Text
It’s confusing, for half a second, when Billy watches the Beamer pull into the parking lot at school on Monday morning and he doesn’t see Steve driving it.
Upon closer look though, it is Steve, but his self-acclaimed signature ‘look’ is gone.
Where once a crown of thick, messy-yet-perfectly-styled brown hair sat is now…a buzzcut.
And honestly, it is startling. Billy had seen Steve only 12 hours ago and had ruffled that head of hair just to annoy the pretty boy. Steve had pushed him away and flipped him off with a smile, his dark eyes simmering with affection.
But now that smile is gone, along with that hair, as Steve gets out of his car and makes his way towards Billy, his face pensive.
Always careful to keep his face neutral, Billy gives Steve a little nod once he’s close enough, muttering his usual morning greeting, “Hey, pretty boy—”
“—you don’t have to lie, Billy,” Steve interrupts with a huff once he’s in front of him, “I know it’s terrible.”
Billy lifts a brow, used to Steve’s flares of bitchiness, and hums, “I barely said anything.”
The way Steve stares at him with wide, unwavering eyes says a lot. It says ‘it’s a big change and I’m scared and unsure please be gentle with me’.
At least, that’s how Billy interprets it.
And he wants to pull Steve in, wants to run his palm over that short hair and press a long kiss to those worry-bitten lips.
But, he can’t, not now.
His rips his gaze from Steve’s and focuses on his hair - or lack thereof - and considers it for a moment. Or, longer than a moment, because the expression on Steve’s face turns sour pretty quickly as his defences rise.
“If you hate it, just fucking say it—”
“Jesus, Stevie, I don’t fucking hate it,” Billy laughs quietly in disbelief with a grin, “I’m just looking, alright?”
Steve shuts his mouth but still looks rather miserable, frowning and running his hand over his head, avoiding Billy’s gaze now.
Steve’s not shy. He’s never shy. Not when they’re going at it in the backseat of his car or when they’re showering together in the Harrington’s fancy bathroom. Steve always meets him head-on. He never falters.
But, this change has him unsteady on his feet, and Billy hates it.
“It’s different,” he finally admits, watches Steve flick his eyes back to him, “But, it’s a good different. If you…wanted a change, you certainly got it. You still got a pretty face and I…well, y’know.”
“No,” Steve furrowed his brows, “I don’t know.”
Billy glances around the parking lot, making sure no one is around before stepping even closer and whispering, “I still like you.”
That makes Steve’s cheeks colour pink. Billy wants to take a bite out of him, he’s so fucking adorable.
Steve reaches out, pretends to push him away but his hand lingers on Billy’s chest as he gives the blond a shy smile, muttering, “Shut up, I can’t stand you.”
“Mhm, sure, that must be why you hang around me so much,” Billy smirks, unable to help the way he flirts with the other boy even now, because it’s Steve. Hair or no hair, Billy fucking adores him.
The bell rings, signalling that they’re officially late for class, but Billy doesn’t care and neither does Steve, not when they have matching dumb smiles and soft eyes for each other.
“What even happened anyway?” Billy murmurs, reaches up to brush his hands over Steve’s head but gives him a look of ‘can I?’ because this is new and Steve’s sensitive about it.
But, desperate for touch, Steve nods and so Billy touches him, smoothes his palm along Steve’s short hair, all the way from his hairline to the nape of his neck. Like he’s petting him and Steve’s all but purring, the tension melting from his shoulders as he explains with quiet embarrassment, “I, um…had an accident.”
“What, you got gum in your hair and cut off too much?” Billy hums playfully, smoothing his thumb along the side of Steve’s neck.
“No,” Steve huffs, leaning into the touch, looking down at the ground again as he mutters, “I…I got my hair stuck in the hairdryer last night after my shower and my mom had to cut it. A lot was missing so I, uh…just shaved it. Because fuck it.”
God, Billy wants to drive over that stupid fucking hairdryer for putting such a sad look on his boy’s face.
“That fucking sucks,” Billy frowns, giving the nape of Steve’s neck a gentle squeeze, “Bet that wasn’t easy for you.” Because Steve took pride in his hair, loved it, and Billy had adored it, too - but not as much as he adored Steve. He could live with watching Steve’s hair grow over the next few months, easily. But Steve might not feel the same.
The pretty boy shrugs, because it’s whatever at this point, over and done with. “Good thing you’re not with me for my good looks,” he jokes, but his voice is still sad, still…fearful.
Like he expects Billy to drop him over this. Like this is some big fucking deal that’ll break them apart.
And, listen. Billy understands that looking good is important. They both primp and preen themselves in front of their mirrors, both take pride in their appearance, so there’s a lot of pressure to upkeep. Billy would have a fucking meltdown if he had to shave his head, so.
Billy levels the other with a look, something a little more serious as he says, “I’m not with you just for your hair or your pretty face, Steve. I hope you know that.”
Steve stares at him for a moment, saying nothing. But, eventually he nods, because yeah he knows that now, but there’s still hesitancy in those dark eyes. Something that words in a parking lot won’t fix. Billy will have to get Steve alone and kiss him stupid until the pretty boy believes him.
During lunch, Billy decides.
“Let’s go for a drive at lunch,” he murmurs, code for ‘let’s go make out in your car somewhere’, “Okay? Then I’ll tell you everything else I like about you other than just your face and hair.”
Steve brightens at the mention of ‘going for a drive’ because a soft smile appears on his face as he asks a hopeful, “Really?”
“Yeah,” Billy nods, finally pulling his hand away, his hot palm cooling in the spring breeze, “But I’m only telling you once, so you better listen.”
A soft chuckle leaves Steve and he nods in understanding, mumbling, “Yeah, yeah…” but he looks relieved. And that’s enough for Billy, for now.
“C’mon,” he says, motioning towards the school with a tilt of his head before giving Steve a playful look, “Unless you wanna go now?”
Steve rolls his eyes with a smile and shoves him towards the building, following close enough that their shoulders bump and hands brush.
Billy can last until lunch. Surely.
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heyimdove · 5 months
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Things of Note at @neil-gaiman ‘s NJPAC talk:
1. Do you people understand that he switches into accents when he reads? Do you people know he does a perfect Michael Sheen impression? did you know it’s also hot
2. He used to cold call publishers/mags to see if they’d publish his work. He’d lie when asked what other magazines he wrote for; they’d think he was more legitimate and would, therefore, be more likely to take him on themselves. “You couldn’t get away with that now” thanks to Google. Also, back then, “we had telephones and we used them,” but today’s publishers would not easily recover if you unexpectedly called them on the phone.
3. It was a personal point of pride for Neil to write for each of the magazines he’d claimed to have written for. He said “I didn’t lie. I was chronologically challenged.”
4. Neil made a deliberate effort to not be boxed in by publishers. He’d interviewed many authors who were unhappily boxed and did everything he could to avoid it, including declining big contracts from prestigious publishers (notably after American Gods). This is why he can write what he likes now. Comics writing spoiled him in this regard, as publishers mistook the medium for a genre, and therefore didn’t care what he wrote (so he wrote all the genres he wanted to in Sandman).
5. He hates Thomas Hardy thanks to being introduced to him in school. Regarding being forced to read Tess of the D’urbervilles, he said “I wouldn’t do that to a dog”. He hopes students, who might have liked him if they found him on their own, don’t encounter his work in school and hate him for it.
6. “The evil characters (you write) don’t possess you, you try to find the little bit of you in them….the little bit of you that is gloriously evil.”
7. “I touched the magic and passed it along” this was a line from Watching from the Shadows that especially moved me.
8. Terry was increasingly upset as the bidding on Good Omens increased (eventually reaching 150,000 - can’t remember if he said $ or £). For his part, when the book finally sold, Neil put on Iggy Pop’s Success and danced.
9. Anansi Boys should be out on Prime by the end of 2024!
10. Described Sandalphon as someone you want to “hit with a large oar”. (The woman next to me, who was extremely stingy with her applause, hooted like an owl at this and clapped til the last).
11. Pronounces Amazon as “Ama-zin” and Los Angeles as “Los Angelese”. This isn’t noteworthy, but I liked it enough to write it down.
12. “Being on a beach in bare feet” was the line that led Neil to realize David Tennant would be perfect for Crowley.
13. He is pictured on the ALA’s poster holding Wind in the Willows because, as a child, “it messed up my head.” He said he is “in love” with a chapter in the middle called The Piper at the Gates of Dawn where the characters meet Pan. It’s often left out of printings, which makes him sad because it is “strange, beautiful, luminous”.
14. TOATEOTL was originally planned to go to Broadway. Then, Covid. They did a “world tour” instead. Now that it’s wrapped, talks about Broadway are happening. He says all of adaptations of his work, this is his favorite.
15. “Disney’s Aladdin plays four times a day in Hell”
16. His favorite question of the night was “WHY did you think of the Other Mother?” He was tickled by the word choice of “why”
17. Asked the library in Sussex “What have you got in the way of really good horror for four year olds?” Obviously none existed so he wrote Coraline.
18. Talked about going viral for being in a falafel, seemed to marvel at the progression of the meme’s meaning.
19. “Tumblr is its own madness”
20. “Stephen King has fabulous stories about meeting fans in toilets, including being passed a book under the stall”
21. Read “The Day the Saucers Came” which I misheard initially as Sauces. Saucers is definitely better.
22. “You want to see me doing Dickens?” I laughed inappropriately at this. I was the only one.
23. I don’t want to say what pieces he read because I want you to buy tickets to his events. But it was very nice to be read to by Neil Gaiman.
It’s very worth it to go. I flew out from San Diego for this and would do it again in a heartbeat!
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tartarusknight · 1 year
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The Fallen King and the King of the Freaks | Part 3
Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
Steve wasn't planning on actually becoming friends with Hellfire. Not after the obvious way he made them uncomfortable. So, after Eddie helped him, he said to himself that he was done... then Billy picked on him again, and Eddie came to the rescue again. Honestly, it was like Eddie became his white knight.
And Steve... Steve could take care of himself. However, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be their friend. He hated the way he jumped at the chance to just go to watch them playing a game like he couldn't even stop himself.
Steve didn’t understand why he offered to go watch them after swimming. No, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he did it.  He wanted to go. He loved listening to stories. He loved hearing people talk about something they were passionate about. So, it sounded nice. But when lunch was over and he tosses his untouched meal, he regretted it. They were just pitying him and he didn’t need to force his shit on anyone else.
So, he decided he’d just ignore them until they forgot about him completely. It was the day after Hellfire, so he’d have an entire week to become a background thought. It shouldn’t be too difficult… most people only knew Steve’s top layer. People left him behind all the time, Hellfire wouldn’t be any different. After all, everyone who had learned who he was, left him. His parents were gone more than they were around. Nancy called him bullshit after he let her in. Tommy and Carol, his best friends from elementary school, had used him to become more “powerful” and “cool”. Hellfire would be the same way; he knew they would.
Except, they didn’t just let him disappear. Grant would wave at him in the hallways with a kind smile. Gareth had the same free hour and suddenly Steve didn’t sit in the library alone. Eddie would constantly find him during lunch and offer a seat which Steve had turned down with a polite smile. Always saying he needed to work on school shit. (Which was never a lie. His head swam, trying to keep up in class after Billy bashed his head in.) However, the first real interaction with Hellfire was with Jeff.
It was Saturday and Steve stood in the supermarket. The kids were coming over later in the day and Steve got a call from Lucas’s mom asking him to not buy her son junk food. And well, Steve knew how to cook. However, his house was completely void of any food. He hadn't felt the need to cook if it was just himself lately… After that night Steve’s stomach rebelled against most foods.
He was staring blankly at the meat section for, what could’ve been, a long time when a hand dropped on his shoulder. Steve flinched away and his body went into fight mode before he noticed Jeff. He dropped his hands and gave the other an extremely fake grin. “Hey man,” he smiled and Jeff looked him over as if he could see right through Steve.
“I thought it was you. Your hair is very distinguishable.” He joked and Steve let out a small chuckle.
“Well I’m called The Hair for a reason,” his voice didn’t hold much joy in it and he winced.
“So, what brings you here?” He asks lamely.
Jeff shrugs, “gotta pick up stuff for my mom. Same for you?”
Steve huffed a laugh, “nah, she’s not in town. But I’ve got a few of the kids coming over and need to make them something that their parents would approve of.” He over-explained but Jeff just nodded.
“Struggling with a plan?” He asked like he wanted to talk with Steve. “Not a big cook?” He asked when Steve didn’t respond.
It makes him smile, “oh I know how to cook. When your al-” he stops himself with clearing his throat. “Nah, just not really feeling meat at the moment.” He gestures and when his gaze hits the bloody meat he shudders.
“There are lots of meatless options out there.” Jeff offers and Steve freezes, he hadn't even considered that. After all, he was told every meal needed a good amount of protein. “My sister doesn’t eat meat. So we’ve learned how to work around it. It’s a little different but still,” he shrugs and Steve’s brow furrowed. “It’s a little hard to get the hang of right away but with practice, you should be able to get it down.”
That makes Steve frown, “I don’t really have the time to experiment.” He swallows and looks back to the meat selection.
Jeff nudged him with his shoulder, “If you want I could help. I’m not that busy today.”
Steve felt something swell in his chest. “Really? I don’t want to be a-”
Jeff scoffed, “please I’d love to help. Showing off to King Steve. It sounds like fun. Plus, then I have an excuse to leave the house.” Steve nods and Jeff gestures him to follow. Jeff puts things in Steve’s basket with an explanation to what he’s planning and Steve just nods. He also helps Jeff get the stuff for his mom before heading to his house.
He only has a few moments alone in which he grabs out his stereo and sets it on some rock station he figured would be more Jeff’s speed. Then he cleans the dust off his counters and waits for the other. It doesn’t take too long and Jeff takes off his shoes politely before he follows Steve into the empty shell of a house. “Okay, are you ready?” Jeff questions and Steve nods. They work together, Jeff giving him instructions. However, they also talked about music, Steve mostly just listened as Jeff explains some songs that he likes. It’s nice. It’s like having a friend and it makes Steve’s hands shake. He didn’t want to let them in. And yet he let Jeff into his house.
They end up making Vegetarian Enchiladas. It’s filled with corn, beans, and zucchini. Topped with cheese, avocado, tomato, and parsley. However, Jeff makes them look normal and Steve hopes the kids won’t notice. “I’ve got two younger siblings. My sister doesn’t do meat and my brother refuses vegetables. I’ve gotten really good at making a vegetarian meal that he will eat. Don’t worry the kids will just think you made them normal enchiladas.” Jeff says and Steve leans against his counter, so fucking thankful.
“So, you cook normally?” Jeff questions as Steve grabs them both out a soda he got for the kids.
He nods, “yeah. My mom’s not one to cook” at least not for me. “So, I’ve learned.” He does look at Jeff and his shoulders slump. “Thanks for the help, man. It was really appreciated. Honestly, it’s a big help. I have to repay you, or something.” He states and Jeff looks confused.
“No need, it’s not a big deal.” He stated but people weren’t nice without wanting something in return. Not many people were kind as they grew up.
Jeff seemed to see Steve’s confusion and sighed. “You know what, how about you bring cookies or something to Hellfire’s next meeting. You’re still stopping by after swimming, right?”
It was a chance to get away from going. Steve could just say, no man something came up. But instead, he grinned, “yeah of course. Any allergies?”
“Grant’s allergic to tree nuts,” Jeff offers, and Steve’s phone rings. “But I’ll get out of your hair, just remember they cook for 12 minutes at 400.” He reminded and headed out. Steve went to the phone as the door to his house shut. Why couldn’t he let go of the Hellfire club?
@zerokrox-bloglog @cyranyxx @adaed5 @the-redthreadd @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaringceyoustopcaring @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshitorthisshit @failedstarsandgoldencloudsds @bisexualdisastersworldd @deadlydodoss @anythingyouwanttobee @nburkhardtt @bestwifehaverr @thehumblefigtreee @megzdoodlee @swimmingbirdrunningrockk @mightbeasleepp @bxlthazarar @autumnal-dawnn @nelotegreitic @chillichatss @nonbinary-eddie-munsonon @the-daydreamer-in-the-cornerner @eddie-munson-is-my-wifewife @a-little-unsteddiedie
(Sorry if I missed any of you!!! Please remind me if I did!)
(No actual Steddie but just some good old CC content. I want more than just Steve and Eddie to become friends. I want the whole CC to adopt the jock&lt;3<3)
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moralesispunk · 1 year
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Tomorrow (Javier Peña x F! Reader)
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Summary: It's been a year since you last saw Javi, and one night he shows up at your door
Warnings: reader is a single mum, talk of a previous break up (second chance romance anyone?), tension, as always when I write Javi it is fictional Javi so let's keep it respectful
Word Count: 2.8k
It’s after midnight when the soft knock comes to your door.
It echoes towards where you’re standing in the kitchen, the sound so gentle that it would have been easy to convince yourself it wasn’t for you but rather a visitor at one of your neighbours doors down the hall.
In fact it was so quiet that you didn’t move at the first two knocks, the lid of tupperware that you were in the middle of snapping closed over tonight’s - or as you glance at the clock on the oven reading 12:04 AM correct yourself - last night’s dinner stilling in your hands as you listened again.
Two more knocks, even softer than before but definitely against your apartment door.
You click the lid into place and slide the tub into the fridge while closing the door with your other hand, your slippers scuffing against the laminate flooring as the dull orange light from the kitchen guides you down the hall.
Most, if not all, nights you wouldn’t be best pleased by a knock at the door this late at night, but especially when today had been long enough as it was and all you wanted to do was switch off the lights and climb into bed - probably still half-dressed - to pass out immediately.
It was a day that started with an alarm that didn’t go off followed by a flat tire on the way to work. To make things worse you had forgot your lunch, didn’t have time between meetings to go out and buy something so handed cash into your intern’s hands - the same intern who also lost a box of files that meant you were scrambling to close out a case - and they had returned with the one sandwich you had begged them not to get you, only managing two mouthfuls before it was thrown in the bin. You were practically running out of the office to pick up Sofia from school on time, burning dinner as you tried to make it while simultaneously getting her ready for dance class; a class that was actually a dress-rehearsal you had forgotten about until walking into the hall where one of the other mums took Sofia from you, gave you a pat on the arm so gentle you could have cried, and let you run home to pack all her dresses and make it back in time for her first dance.
By the time you got home and Sofia was bathed and in bed, it was an hour past her usual bedtime and you still had everything else to do around the apartment which left you packing away leftovers at midnight. You had been praying between spooning the meatballs into the tub and washing down the pot that Sofia would - for the first time in months - want to lie in on a Saturday rather than wake you up at her usual 6 AM for cartoons and cereal.
By the time you reach the door you’re already balancing on your toes, lifting yourself to look through the peephole. Your building security was tight, mostly agents from the bureau and their families who lived here, but it still didn’t stop you from being overly-cautious with your daughter sound asleep down the hall.
You really had no guesses for who would be knocking at this time, if you had been any more awake you probably would have had the mind to think of a neighbour or the night manager, but even if you had taken a million guesses you would never have said his name.
At the sight of the man on the other side of the door, his hand scrubbing down his face before tugging the tie around his neck loose as he looked like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or run, your heart stopped.
You hadn’t seen Javi in over a year, the last time almost in this exact spot, and it was like a wave of emotions crashing over you.
The memories of that first night when you met in the bar and how he had made you laugh harder than you had in the longest time, your head thrown back and his eyes crinkling at the side. The feeling of his hands as he pushed your skirt up to your waist the second your apartment door had closed, his body crowding against yours and his mouth kissing a path down your neck as his hand was lost between your legs. The feeling of his lips against your temple the next morning, how he smiled boyishly down at you as you hugged the sheets around your still-naked body and he left in the same clothes he had worn the night before. How your mouth fell-open when you walked into the boardroom on Monday morning to find him standing beside your boss. The weeks of avoiding him around the building with burning cheeks and fast clicking heels as you tried to make it to the elevator and back without being caught. The way he had caught you in the file room and asked you to go for a drink with him.
The way you had said yes, instantly.
The months of dates and nights where you lost yourself in the sheets. The day you introduced him to Sofia and he knelt before her with a smaller bouquet of flowers to match yours. The movie nights. The trips to the park. The safety you felt for the first time in… God, years really. The heartbreak as he stood at your door, while Sofia played quietly in the living room, and told you that they offered him a move back to Colombia, for a year - maybe two - and he had already said yes.
He had already said yes before talking to you and that was what broke everything.
But as you took in this man now, his tight shoulders and tired eyes, it somehow didn’t feel like a conversation for tonight.
With a hand sliding down the door you flicked the lock, taking off the latch in a swipe and opening the door wide enough for you to stand in the now open gap. His head had jerked up at the sound, his eyes widening as though he was surprised at you actually opening the door for him.
His lips parted and a quiet murmur of your name was the only sound he made, his hand shaking out by his side as he shifted his weight onto one leg and took you in.
In all honesty, for the first three months after he had left you had thought about this moment - about seeing him for the first time. You had imagined you would be dressed up with your hair and make-up done, throwing back your head in a laugh as he walked into whatever bar you were in - you would never imagined that it would be after midnight in your apartment building hallway, your face completely bare and an outfit that consisted of your work trousers and an oversized t-shirt turned sleep-shirt.
You would also never have guessed that you didn’t care what you looked like in this moment.
It was partially because, somehow, the man across from you looked even more tired than you felt and maybe it made you a bad person, slightly evil at the core, but it made you feel better that you weren’t the only mess.
“What are you doing here, Javi?” You asked, sighing and leaning your weight on the door as the exhaustion from the day caught up on you.
“I…” Javi’s hand rubbed across his jaw, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours before he sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… It’s late and- and I don’t know why I came, I just went for a walk and-” He shook his head again, taking a step back and another. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-”
You had never seen Javi flustered before, so unconfident and unbelieving in himself, and it set off an unease in you that had you stepping forward and wrapping your hand around his arm.
“Javi,” you said, waiting until he looked up into your eyes before going on. “Why don’t you just… come in. It’s late and you’re already here.”
His shoulders rose as he took in a breath, dark brown eyes looking into yours, then into the open door behind you, before he nodded and you let your palm slide down his arm and into his hand as you led him back into the apartment.
It was awkward and disjointed, his body close behind yours as you stepped inside and closed the door as soon as he had followed. With the door locked and his shoes toes off by the shoe rack, an uncomfortable pressure settled into your chest at the feeling that all of this was too familiar.
It was like every other time you had come home together. Those nights after work when you were still chatting as you stepped over the threshold, your eyes never leaving one another’s as you slipped your shoes off, tossed the keys into the bowl and slipped your jackets onto the rack while deciding what's for dinner. Or when the three of you had been out together and Sofia had fallen asleep on the way home, her cheek squished against his shoulder and his hand running up and down her back as you straightened the three pairs of shoes while he carried her to bed. Or nights when she was with your friend and you and Javi were on a date night, his mouth already on yours before the door had closed and his hands gripping at your thighs until your legs had been wrapped around his waist.
To make it worse, it felt right as soon as his hand was in yours - his rough skin against your smooth palm, his hand completely enveloping your smaller one, his thumb that instinctively came to trace circles on your skin.
Awkward and tension filled but familiar and right, no sign that anything good was going to come from leading him down the hall towards your bedroom. You stopped only to switch off the kitchen light, his weight steady behind you as he stayed silent while you peeked into Sofia’s room.
The purple octopus light on her bedside table was bright enough for you to make out her sleeping face, the duvet kicked down by her feet and her arms raised up above her head as she snored far louder than any five-year old should, so you closed the door back over until it was only open and inch or two and began the short walk across the hall to your room.
There is no part of your mind that could rationalise this, that could find an explanation other than you are just over-tired and hallucinating the man who broke your heart, but you can feel him here and there is a soft voice reassuring you that it's true, and that if he wanted you to stop leading him deeper into your apartment he would have said so by now.
When you open the door to your bedroom he follows closely, his hand only leaving yours when you're both over the threshold and he takes a step further inside as you close the door over.
“She's not a great sleeper right now,” you explain as you leave your door open an inch or two, the same as Sofia’s, and Javi waves you off.
When you turn back around you find your arms crossing over your chest, fingers digging into the skin around your elbow as you take in the man before you in more detail now.
He looks like the man you had first met; the tiredness that gave his cheeks an almost sunken look and left him with dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders were tight as though the weight of the very world settled on them and his eyes darted around your face as his hands clenched and released from fists by his side as though he couldn’t stay still.
He wasn't like the man who had been here just before he left again, settled into domesticity who would lie in bed wrapped around you until his alarm went off - not slipping out as soon as he woke up - and who began to build something here.
“I-” He started to speak and you raised a hand, shaking your head as your throat began to sting with unshed tears.
“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you said simply and he looked at you, searching your face for an answer he didn't seem to find before nodding.
If for nothing else, five minutes locked away might help you find some semblance of control. You avoided your reflection in the mirror the whole time, not wanting to see if your face was giving away more hope than pain or more pain than hope, and spent the whole time throwing your trousers in the laundry basket, washing your face and brushing your teeth wondering what Javi was doing in the room next door.
Your apartment had stayed largely the same this past year, a family home filled with toys and organised mess that accumulated from your busy lives, but you had not. Sometimes it felt like a museum, stumbling across a cuff link that was wedged between the cushions and remembering how on nights you were home alone he would take you on the sofa rather than take the two seconds to move you to the bedroom. Other times it felt like he had never been there at all, a wardrobe that had once held hangers of his shirts and trousers sitting emptier than before with only your clothes to fill it.
When you stepped back into your bedroom you found him perched on the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers rubbing between his brows, until he stood up to face you.
His eyes followed a path up from your ankles to the middle of your thighs where the hem of your t-shirt rested, his bottom lip pulling between his teeth and his eyes darting away as his jaw clenched.
There was going to be no conversation tonight, not one that would do either of you any good or answer any of your questions. Questions about why he came here? Why didn't he call, not once, this whole year even just to tell you he was alive? Why can't you decide whether you hate or love him? Does he love you? Is this going to end up in an even bigger mess than last time? But these were questions you had asked yourself for a year and another night without answers wasn't going to ruin you.
Taking a step forward, then another, you placed your hands on his chest and watched as he carefully took you in. Your hands slipped up to his tie, one you had never seen before with the deep navy paisley pattern, and you raised an eyebrow in question.
He nodded once, the fabric soon coming loose and dropping to the floor.
A tear spilled over your cheek as your fingers moved down the buttons, slipping each one free from the soft cotton before you could slide it from his shoulders. The tips of your fingers grazed against his skin from his shoulders to his wrists and as soon as his hands were free they raised to your face, palms cupping your cheeks and thumbs brushing away the tears that were spilling over.
You stepped out of his grasp, rounding to your side of the bed and switching off the lamp.
“I hope you're wearing boxers under there,” you said, sniffing back the tears and climbing under the sheets.
His quiet laugh was followed by the soft thud of his trousers hitting the carpet.
“Yes, boxers are on,” he whispered back.
The mattress dipped behind you, his warmth settling on the half of the bed that had been cold for a year. Your shoulders were almost at your ears from how tense you held yourself, rolling over to face Javi to find him already facing you, an arm folded under the pillow and the other resting on the mattress between you.
“Hi,” you whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back, his face softening slightly.
As your eyes adjusted to the dark your hand reached up, tracing down the strong slope of his nose and across the plump roundness of his lips. His breath hitched then, a beautifully painful sound that had your eyes squeezing shut.
Your eyes stayed closed as you turned back around, your body much closer to Javi’s than it had been before, and it wasn't long before his hand wrapped slowly around your waist, giving you time to push him away.
“Tomorrow,” you whispered, linking your fingers with his where they rested on the mattress in front of you and his chest pressed tighter against your back.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered back, his cheek resting against the top of your head and his hand squeezing yours.
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