#not really about actual religion but it def can be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fariesoiree · 5 months

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ever since you’ve became friends with hobie, he makes your insides feel all weird. he’s got to know what this feeling is. he can probably help you with it, right?

caution! mdni 6k wrdz, mentions of religion, reader is super sheltered, set in a college setting, black fem reader, fingering reader receiving, oral reader receiving, corruption kink mayb just barely, hobie is real gentle, everything happens on a desk, blushing is described but can’t be physically seen, unrealistic description of coochie juice we all know it doesn’t actually taste like that hobie is just obsessed, the smut section is a littleeee bit short but i def think i could expand on this in the future pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

hobie has been a good friend of yours for a few month now. it all really started at a party at the college you attend. with it being your first year, every experience is a new one. your sheltered childhood only further added to it.

it was easy, hobie always claims, to tell you didn’t belong when you stood in the room, eyes wide and frantic. not to mention, you were fully dressed in jeans and a sweater. he didn’t understand how you hadn’t passed out, yet.

he walks up to you that very same night. your panic only became more evident when he’s introducing himself. “you alright, love?” and he’s truthfully concerned. you’re nearly shaking, hands clasped together.

you explain to him what happened. that the group of girls you came with disappeared, that you don’t know anyone here, that you’re extremely overwhelmed.

it’s hobie who leaves the party early, despite enjoying himself. he escorts you back to your room and stands outside your door until it’s clicked shut and locked. he also leaves his number in your phone that night with the innocent promise to help you with whatever you need.

the reaction from your parents is expected when you tell them what happened. you receive a scolding for going to the party and indulging in secular music and sin, as well as trusting a man and allowing him access to your room. you can argue that you didn’t invite him in but your parents won’t and don’t listen.

you’re used to it, used to their lectures that you actually heed their warnings. all your life you’ve been living by their rules. no boys and no parties. church every sunday, home at nine. you’ve even accepted the routine phone checks every night with no back-talk. this has been your way of living since forever.

so of course the big, gentle, temptation himself intrigues you to no end when you’re presented with such an open gateway. you’re sure if your god-fearing parents saw him, they’d have a heart attack right on the spot.

six five and exactly what your parents warned you against. piercings galore, stick and poke tattoos decorating his skin. his hair is assorted into wicks, which you don’t mind but your relatives would have called him sloppy. not to mention the clothes he wears, decorated in spikes and chains. sometimes the gems in his belt catches the sun in just the right way and he glows like an angel.

hobie gives you butterflies and not just in your stomach but in other places as well.

you don’t know what to do about the fluttering in your pussy when hobie’s had grazes your thigh when he bends to pick something up. even the word pussy has your face warming up.

at first, you thought it would be a one time, unrelated thing. the wet mess in your panties shocked you after spending your evening with hobie. you made a mental note to stop by the doctors in case it was something serious and went about your night.

and then it happened again and every night since. coincidentally, you’re with hobie every night, only to return to the safety of your dorm and deal with the same heated feeling.

that’s exactly how you find yourself in this dilemma tonight. you’re as quiet as a mouse, strewn across his bed. the strip led lights cast a blue shadow on the room. hobie is across from you at his desk, clicking around in some music making site you wouldn’t even try to comprehend.

his headphones are over his head, stretched to the biggest setting to accommodate his hair and his fingers, nails painted black, tap against the wooden desk. hobie can’t hear you with the noise filling his ears. he hums softly to the beat.

you’ve been staring at him for a while, now. originally, you were working on some homework due that night but your gaze found him and his sharp jawline that’s just barely visible from the diagonal angle he’s sitting.

before you know it, your eyes have wandered downwards until you’re looking at his legs, wide and manspreeding. your downstairs area does that weird pulsating thing.

you lips form into a pout and you shift to remove the discomfort. you never actually made it to the doctor, having realized this is only something you experience around hobie. despite this unusual situation find yourself in, distancing yourself from him wasn’t an option. oddly enough, he’s one of the few people that didn’t make you feel other.

“come listen to this.” hobie swivels in her chair to face you. he pops the headphones off his head and waves you over. “was thinkin’ about submittin’ it as my project.”

you sheepishly shake your head. your cheeks burn at the possibility of him catching you. “oh, i don’t think you want me to.” it makes you nervous to partake in the creation of something so vividly can nonreligious. you're already laying in his bed, unsupervised and alone with him. all your teachings let you know it could lead to other things.

he tilts his head, dangling the headphones off his fingertips. you can hear the punk rock melody blaring from where you’re stationed. “you never wanna listen to my music. scared or somethin’?” he doesn’t wait for a response, already slapping the bluetooth headphones back over his ears and turning back.

hobie already knows the answer but he’s uncaring, regardless. he’s become accustomed to your thinking and even though he feels it’s distorted with reality, he doesn’t judge you for it. nor does he blame you.

you’re back to staring at him and the way his hands dance across the keys. his hands are so big, you think. each finger is slender and long and could probably swallow you whole.

you take your lips in between your teeth with a disgruntled sigh. all these impure thoughts are driving you up the wall. you can’t even blame him because he’s doing nothing to provoke it. you, apparently, just can’t control yourself.

with hobie’s back to you, you’re able to silently pack your stuff up. your laptop is tucked away into your bag and you grab your spiral notebook. he doesn’t notice you’re preparing to leave until you softly slide off his platformed bed and shove your feet into the soles of your matte mary janes.

“where are you going, duck?” he pushes the left side back until it’s no longer covering his ear, rapidly glancing at you.

“my room.” you grab your hello kitty lanyard off his desk. “i’m going to do my work in there. can’t do it here. i’m too distracted.” you sling your bag over your shoulder.

“shit, is it me? hobie pauses his track. he’s rapidly hanging his headphones on the stand and jumping to his feet. “at least let me walk you back.”

hobie stuffs his feet in his traditional black boots. he doesn’t care enough to tie the blue, ladder laced laces. he’s already grabbing that loud, extravagantly pinned vest before you have a chance to blink.

“no, you don’t have to do that.” you nervously fiddle with the blue ribbon tied at the base of your braid. “i don’t want to inconvenience you and it’s not the far from your room.”

he merely tsked and rests his hand atop your head, right in between the pigtails. “darlin’ there’s no chance i’m lettin’ you walk your little self back alone. you of all people? fuck no.”

“hobie!” you chastise, hands flying up to cover your ears. the keys dangle and bump again your cheek. your mom always told you that anyone who says adverse words is going straight to hellfire. you didn’t want to be apart of that.

he opens the door and motions you through, a hand on the small of your back. “you’d follow a man to his truck just ‘cause he said please.”

the warmth from his fingertips spread throughout the nerves on your spine and you feel like you’re on fire. you pout and it can easily be mistaken for your opposing opinions on your naivety.

“sorry but it’s true.” the door clicks shut when both of you have stepped outside it. hobie shoves his keys inside his pocket and begins down the hallway to the elevator. he hasn’t noticed you trailing behind him, teeming with explanations as to why your core throbs at the sight of him.

you do this all the way until you’re out the door of the men’s dormitory. you haven’t uttered a word, thumb rubbing against the warming metal of the cross dangling around your neck.

it’s not like you’ve ever felt this feeling before. not even around the other boys you’ve been around. granted, your hangouts were never like this. it was always under adult supervision, even in your older years, and you mostly saw each other during youth groups and summer camps. this, what you’re feeling now, is an entirely new and uncharted territory.

“hobie,” you start. the warm summer breeze ripples across your skin and leaves behind a chill of the promised winter to follow.

hobie lifts his head. the rock he kicked scattered off the sidewalk and into the grass. he hasn’t spoken to you. either. that’s the best thing about him. he doesn’t ask questions, letting you process things your own way. hobie is all too aware of your differences and has no problem letting you take your time.

“i have a question. it’s kind of personal, i think.” you take a brief pause before each word, meticulously picking them to match your uncertainty.

hobie is still silent. at some point, you would have begin to question if he’s even listening to you if it weren’t for the way he lazily shifted his gaze over to you.

“are you . . . have you ever gotten this feeling in your stomach? like a hot one.” you wet your lips. your heart is about ready to stop beating. how do you explain this to him? are you just supposed to tell him he makes your no-no square all fired up? do people say that?

“what are you goin’ on about, lovely? has my stomach ever burned? yeah, if i eat enough dairy.” he chuckles with a small shake of his head. unbeknownst to him, that is not at all what you’re referring to and you are too ashamed to ask him again.

“never mind,” you say with your head hung low.

it’s your parents fault and the way they neglected to teach you about your body. it’s not like you’re a complete idiot and you know sex can lead to children. however, you were taught that sex is bad and children are blessings so it’s fair to say you’re a bit clueless on the contrasting beliefs. not to mention this weird feeling a boy invokes. the boy that might as well be the son of satan himself.

you sigh, heavy and drawn, pulling your keycard out your lanyard. it scans and the lock beeps, allowing you both entrance into the girls dormitory.

hobie lifts an arm and holds the door open over your head. he’s confused. it’s obvious you’re mulling over something, putting so much energy into it that you don’t notice the weight of his eyes boring into the back of your head.

it isn’t until you’re standing in front of your door does he speak his mind. “what’s keepin’ your head so busy?”

your hand is steady on the handle but you have yet to turn it. you can feel the heat from his body standing so close to yours and just once you wish for him to reach forward and put his hand — oh no.

“m – maybe you should just come inside.” you yank your door open and pull him behind you. it’s a drastic decision on your part. never have you ever invited any man in your room, not even hobie. at best, he got glimpses of the shared living space but never of your room down the hall. he’s always walked you back, stood at your door until you were safe inside, and made his exit. always.

even when he’s come to walk you to class, your roommates would open the door and invite him in but he’d stay planted right at your welcome mat. hobie knows you, knows what silly boundaries you have but he follows them strictly because as long as you’re comfortable, he’s comfortable.

“hold on, look at me.” hobie finds himself abruptly stopping in your living room. he yanks his arm until you’ve spun back around and settles his hands atop your shoulders. his eyes fall on your lips, caught between you teeth and nearly knawed raw. he doesn’t miss your hands clenched into tiny fists by your side. “are you okay? this isn’t like you to act so . . . erratic.”

he has to stop his curiosity from getting the best of him and drink in the interior decorations you’ve done. out the corner of his eyes, he can tell just what you contributed, different nooks and crannies filled with pink trinkets and round eyed figurines. you’re the sweetest thing all worked up and making rash decisions. he doesn’t like where this is leading.

you give him a small nod of your head, eyes downcast and on the tops of his worn boots. the grime is welcoming. better than looking in his eye and having him see how unnerved you are.

as if you aren’t shaking under his grasp.

“dove, don’t lie to me. if there is somethin’ wrong, you need to let me know and i need to hear you say it.” his hands drop to your elbows, fingertips just barely touching your skin. hobie knows you’re avoiding him, avoiding addressing something big but welcoming him in your personal space. the contrast is enormous and it’s especially a big deal for you.

“i’m f – fine. i just . . .” you timidly shift your feet, sweatered arms going to wrap around yourself. you’re clutching your cross again, attention boring into the floor. “. . . can we please talk about it in my room. it’s not something i want to say here.”

he’s hesitant to let you go, drawing in a breath. you’re going to be the death of him, he decides, with the way you concern him but he’ll take your word for it. maybe, maybe just maybe you know exactly what you want.

he allows you to take him back to your room, pushing the door open. immediately, he gets a good whiff of the clean linen wax you have burning in your wax warmer.

your space is tidy, but not necessarily clean. you’re a bit of a maximalist, soft blankets and frills draped around your room. you have posters and paper hearts hanging on your wall, a my melody rug laying in the floor beneath your chair.

there’s a couple flower cushions strewn about and plenty of stuffed animals to go around. you have fairy lights across the wood of bed, casting the room in soft yellow lighting. there’s a rack in the corner full of lacey clothes that he assumes you’re planning on wearing soon.

you look so comfortable, fitting right in. of course you do, considering you decorated it yourself. hobie lingers at the edge of the room while you go through your routine of taking off your shoes and putting your bag by your desk. you’re putting your earrings in the strawberry shaped jewlery holder when you finally address him.

“you don’t have to stand there like that. you can take your shoes off and stuff,” you speak with your back turned to him. you know it’s weird, having him in here. it’s weirder when hobie acts as if his presence in your room will turn it into an active landmine.

hobie licks his lips, hands deep inside his pockets. he doesn’t even want to let his eyes linger too long on anything in fear he’s taint your purity, full of innocence and hope. “what am i here for?”

you rest your hand against the cool, light colored wood of your desk. you feel feverish, the topic making your palm sticky with sweat. the room suddenly gets hot and you’re clearing your throat while motioning for hobie to close the door. “um, well . . .” you trail off, tapping your manicured fingers loud enough to fill the silence with quiet clicks and clacks. “i have something to ask you.”

“ ‘nd you needed to bring me here to ask me?” his head tilts in deep skepticism. hobie leans against the white wall next to your door. he doesn’t want to go any further. he doesn’t belong here.

you’re irked, hands flying to wrap around yourself. the ruffles at the bottom of your dress rub against each other like flower petals in a spring breeze. “just listen! i have something serious to ask you and you’re being awkward. it’s making me awkward.”

hobie lifts and drops his shoulders. he’s tense when he crosses the threshold of your room and takes an uncomfortable seat at your desk chair. “sorry doll but we both know i’m not supposed to be in here. what do you want to talk about? make it quick so i can go.” he leans back as far as the chair will allow, eyes up and on you.

his question demands a straight forward response, one that you cannot provide. you don’t know what is happening, yourself. you’re back to your silence, grasping for words to form an explanation. “remember when i asked you if your stomach ever burned before?”

“not this again. i thought we already talked about –”

“no! listen.” you’re shouting at him again, lips pressed into a pout. you’re just barely working up the courage and you need to get it out before it goes away. “lately, i’ve been feeling like that but not in my stomach.”

you’re speaking so fast, hobie can barely understand you. he just catches your words, suddenly sitting up with his brows knitted together. “are you okay? sick?” he presses his hands flesh against your cheeks and forehead but your skin isn’t warm to the touch.

“n – no. not that i know of.” you nearly whine when his fingertips brush along your waist as they’re lowered back to his side. “it’s a little uncomfortable.” you rub your knees together in an attempt to satiate the ache between your thighs.

hobie has enough experience to recognize the little shuffle you do, accompanied by the needy glint in your eye. it startles him. not you. anyone but you, miss purity herself. he’s seeing things. “then what?”

he’s terrified of the way you look at him, eyes glossed over. the cherry colored blush dusted across your cheeks appeals to your cherubic state. this is his worst nightmare and best dream, that you would entice him like this.

it isn’t easy to ignore the chub of your ass that you’re unaware you carry and the softness of your breasts when you grab his arm and press your body against his. it especially isn’t easy to ignore the sweetness in your voice when you plead and chastise him for his vulgar words and behavior. oh how badly does he want to twist your brain but he won’t. he can’t allow himself to. you’re too good for that and that’s the problem.

“i feel weird inside around you, hobie. only you and . . . i don’t know.” you’re meek and quiet, face advert and back in the ruffled hem of your white socks. you cross and uncross your ankles to satisfy your need to stir and wriggle. “i wasn’t going to say anything but i don’t know how to make it stop and sometimes it hurts.”

you look so pitiful and pretty like this, almost begging for his help. it doesn’t take a genius to understand what you mean but hobie can’t bring himself to act on it. it feels so wrong on so many levels. he can’t take advantage of your unawareness like this.

“aw baby,” he has to curl his fingers into his palm to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing you. that’s why you were so insistent on coming to your room. “you don’t want my help with that.” he keeps telling himself he has to be the bigger person, the one who thinks clearly.

“i do,” you insist, daring to take a bold step closer until you’re slotted between his knees. it’s a lot for you, coiling in on yourself to find comfort despite acting out your comfort zone. “i can’t take it anymore. you don’t understand.”

his hand comes up to rest against your cheek, following an empathetic shake of his head. “no, you don’t understand. you don’t even know what you’re talking about. what am i supposed to do if you can’t even tell me what you’re talking about?”

hobie stands, presumably to take his leave. he pushes you away from him by your waist. he’s stopped when you wrap your hand around his slender wrist, staring up at him with big, entreating eyes.

“please? anything? please, hobie. i’ll take anything just help me do something. tell me what to do, i don’t care. it’s terrible and uncomfortable and i can’t bear it anymore.”

he takes one look at you and is met with your waterline, gathering in tears of desperation. all his resolve slowly breaks until he’s cupping your cheeks with a soft sigh. “you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? babblin’ about shit you don’t even understand.” he’s gentle, backing you up until your knees are knocking against your desk. he sits you up there, hands resting on either side of you.

“hobie,” you reprimand him again for his words out of habit, hands going to cover your ears again.

he stops them, much larger ones enscasing yours with a tut of his tongue. “don’t even. you don’t get to complain about me sayin’ shit and fuck and whatever else. not right now.” he presses your palm against his lips, piercings warm against your skin.

your mouth falls open, only to wordlessly shut. you don’t know what to say, what to do. all you know is you’re slightly overwhelmed with the future possibilities. what’s about to happen? what is he going to do?

“i don’t even know what to do with you. you sure this is what you want?” hobie doesn’t feel he needs to ask with the way you were begging him but he can’t help it. you’re such a sweet thing, asking him to do something about your aching cunt. you don’t even know what you’re asking him.

you nod, eyes widening when his hand falls over your knee. it’s a respectful distance but you’re anxious, already wiggling under his gaze. “you keep asking me.”

“i know darlin’ but can you blame me? just gotta make sure.” hobie ever-so-swiftly slides his hand up your thigh until his thumb is brushing against the front of your panties. he isn’t interested in beating around the bush and quite frankly, it would be so much better to just get the first touch done for. break the ice just enough.

your body immediately reacts, legs pressing closed as far as you can get them. your eyebrows knit together as your nerves crackle and pop with a sudden desire you haven’t felt before. “i’m s – sure.”

“never had this pretty pussy played with before have you? ‘course not. you’re a good girl.”

you hate the way he’s talking to you. it’s not quite derogatory but it makes you feel otherworldly in a negative way. as if you have no clue what he’s talking about. you don’t. and his words are so unclean.

“not gonna fuck you tonight. you’re not ready for that, yet.” he aids your legs back open with a firm grip, holding them in place. “you know what that means, yeah?” hobie doesn’t mean it as an insult, circling his thumb around your already puffy clit.

“mhm,” you’re wiggling again, lip caught between your teeth. you’ve heard the phrase in passing, understanding the word and its context. never have you used it, yourself. you’re clueless, not dumb.

hobie bunches your white dress up by your hips. he’s greeted with a view of your black panties, dark enough to conceal the dampening spot but he can still feel it beneath the pad of his thumb.

your glittery lip gloss has begun to spill over your plump lip and dribble down your chin with how much you quiver. he swipes the excess off, lightly chuckles at the way you fawn and fall over.

just over the clothes touching has you like this, mewling and hiccuping and doing your best to conceal it. it’s endearing, the way you try to maintain his level of composure.

he continues toying with you, a bit hesitant. it’s not like him but hobie knows he has to take his time with you. he can’t rush. he has to prep you thoroughly, get you used to his touches. this is what you want.

“and you’re not gonna act all shy when i take these off, are you?” his finger hooks through the leg hole, snapping the fabric back until it pops against you when it’s released. “or are you still trying to be a little angel?”

the thought of hobie pulling your underwear down and seeing what no one, let alone a man, has seen. your private jewels that you’re sure are soaping wet the way they are every other night. your cheeks heat up and you squeeze your eyes shut, knees trying to do the same. “no, i’m not.” you’re trying to be so brave, it’s cute.

“don’t worry, dolly. not yet. just gonna rub your cunt, just like this.” he pushes and pulls on your clit, hot underneath the pressure of his thumb. it has your hips shuffling in an attempt to rut against him. he doesn’t know if you’re aware, the way you stare at him like he hung the moon himself. “could make you cum like this, i bet. you ever done that before?”

a particular jerk of his finger has you gasping and grabbing whatever part of him you can get to first, his forearm and his shoulder. “i never –,” your chest heaves with a broken moan, partially restrained, “n – no. i don’t.”

as far as you know, premature sex and masturbation is a sin. you have never been tempted before even meeting hobie. not only would he be the first to touch you but he’d be the first to make you cum.

his boxers get increasingly more tight at the thought. you’re so pure and he’s so lucky, being the first, even before you, to dip his fingers between your folds. he can barely restrain himself.

hobie plants himself in your hair, his gruff groan vibrating your scalp. he can’t help the way his thumb jostles your clit. it’s nearly primal, how badly he wants to draw an orgasm out of you and he knows you’ll do it so easy with how pent up and inexperienced you are.

“you don’t gotta hide it, baby. let me hear you, dove. tell me what you like so i can make you feel good.” your hair smells of vanilla and shea butter. it makes hobie want to devour every part of you, his long cock leaking with precum but he has to remember to take his time. he has to.

“hobie . .” your weak whine fills the hazy spot in his brain that’s indulged so deeply in every part of you. you don’t have to tell him for him to know, it’s obvious in how you’re unable to be still, nails stabbing into his skin. “i f – feel weird.” you’re so wound up.

hobie pulls his head back. he feels heavy with need as he tilts your chin towards his face. he just wants to see you, that’s all. he just needs to see the expression you make the first time you cum. “don’t fight it, sweet girl. just let it happen. it’ll feel real good.” his thumb strokes your jawline, coaxing you to give in to the growing lust filled pit in your stomach.

hobie knows you cum simply because he can feel it. your pussy spams so hard, he swears he can hear it. he doesn’t even have to put a finger up to your entrance to feel the pulsating. it’s almost as if your hole is searching for something to suck in.

your mouth has fallen open in a tiny o, working your body into hobie’s through your experience. he was right. it felt so good, satiating the need and burn of your body. it’s almost addicting, the way your body reacts to his touch. your brain is becoming mush with each throb. “oh my goodness.” you speak in between breaths, finally releasing hobie and drawing back your nails.

he only chuckles, rubbing at your thighs. “that was good, wasn’t it? did it help your little problem?” he plays with the bottom of your dress, conflicted between pulling it down to set you free and suggesting another round. you offered a starved man a seat at the table.

you smile shyly at him. you don’t know what to say now, what to do. your friend just made you cum after you begged him to. how do people do this casually? “yes, thank you. i’m deeply sorry for being so forceful.”

at this, hobie laughs out loud. it’s genuine and booming against the walls. it seems he has yet to break you in but he supposed he was too hopeful. of course he couldn’t turn you into something like him just from rubbing on you a little bit.

“you’re all good, duck. you weren’t being forceful, at all.” he pulls out the desk chair and takes a seat, getting comfortable in the flower shaped cushion. his limber fingers are back to picking at the side of your panties. he’s a bit hungry, he thinks.

his eyes, dark and narrowed, do something to you. you don’t understand. you can still feel the sticky mess in your underwear but something is stirring inside you, again.

you both stare at each other in a heated silence, thinking the same thing but waiting for the other to say it first.

“you want me to eat you out?” hobie is the first to speak with his head tilted. he’s far more impatient and bold to play around. when he wants something, he’ll take it.

at first, you believe you heard him incorrectly. “do i want you to what?” you feel stupid having to ask but you’re truly at a loss. “i’m sorry. hobie, i don’t know what that is.”

hobie is the luckiest man in the world. if he could whip his cock out and slide it inside you, he would but having you on his tongue would be the next best thing, especially when you’re asking him what that is. “you’re about to find out.” he murmurs, pulling you to the edge of the desk.

you’re surprised when hobie yanks your underwear down, lifting up a hip at a time to get it down your legs and tossed across the room. both the cool air and his dark gaze has you snapping your legs shut. there’s too many things to hide from and you’re unprepared.

“no, no. don’t shut me out like that.” he has his hands hooked under your knees and props them on your shoulders. his excuse is that it would be better for you to manage but truthfully, he does it to get an eye to cunt view. he pulls you even closer until your lower body is dipping into his lap and you’re relying on him to hold you up. “you’re gonna like it, i promise.”

“oh, i don’t know about this.” you grip the edge of the desk, still sitting up and getting a perfect view of the carnal look in hobie’s eye. he actually licks his lips, flicking his attention up to you for only a second.

“just once. just try it once and if you don’t like it, we can stop. you have my word.”

you don’t know how much you can trust him like this but his warm breathe is just tickling you in all the best ways. it’s hypnotizing enough to have you nodding in agreement before you know it. “o – okay.”

hobie has enough sense, what little he has left, to put a hand in your tummy and pushing you down until your back is against the cool wood. he doesn’t have to tell you to stay there. he just knows you will, especially when you’re gasping at the feeling of his hot tongue on your cunt.

your sap is sweet and unbelievably so. like cherries and strawberries and mangos on a warm summer day. he’s delusional, drunk already and nose deep in your cunt.

his tongue finds your entrance as the source of the sweetness all to easy. he’s addicted to it, each suckle and slurp persuading more of your cream to pour out your hole.

it doesn’t take you long to start writhing, hand all in his hair, tugging in every direction. each swipe of his tongue and bump of his nose in your clit has your back arching. it’s better than you could have ever imagined. you can’t believe you were about to turn this down, or the fact that you didn’t allow yourself to experience such pleasure simply because of your parents fears.

you cry and sob, legs shaking on his shoulders. you can’t decide whether or not you want to tighten your legs around his head or open them wider to accept more of him. “hobie, p – please!”

hobie almost doesn’t hear you. almost.

your words just barely float around his brain but your pleas stick just enough for him to push your legs up by the bottom of your thighs. he keeps you hooked there so strongly, he’s able to grasp your hand and maintain his hold.

it sounds so wet that it’s humiliating. you can’t believe these sounds are coming from you, that hobie’s tongue is deep in you, that he has you folded like this. you didn’t know this was possible.

your body is all warm all over again. you’re fortunate there’s no excess clutter on your desk with the way hobie has you. your hands fly to the metal structure holding your bed together, mouth drying from how long you’ve held it open.

you swear it comes faster than it did before. it occurs to you that you’re a ticking time bomb. the previous orgasm has your clit feeling like each touch is a hot stone.

it’s as if hobie steals your breath with your growing cries at your approaching release. you don’t know what to do with yourself, where to put your hands. it’s overwhelming, your second orgasm and the first time anyone has ever “eaten you out”.

“feel weird again!” you say through broken sobs. you��re met with hobie’s acknowledging hands massaging into your skin. he’s coaxing, encouraging you without having to remove himself from his new favorite spot in the world, right between your thighs.

it gives you whiplash with how quickly your orgasm comes, pushing out of you as if the first one never happened. it’s just as strong, if not stronger. your body trembles with your spurts of cream. it’s weeks worth of sexual frustration to know end and a confusing search of a solution, all washed off you in one night.

you’re so sensitive, you have to push him off with your feet at his chest and chest heaving for air. “fuck, that was good.”

“did you just say fuck?” hobie leans over you, bringing the bottom of his shirt up to wipe your sheen off his face. he’s well amused, almost snorting at your response. that had to be his influence.

“did i?” you cover your mouth with quick regret. you didn’t realize it rolled off your tongue so easy.

hobie grins, pulling you to seating and then to your feet. he tries not to ogle at you too much. it’s difficult when your lower half is completely exposed and he’s still so desperately horny but he puts your needs first, closing his eyes and clearing his throat. “you got somethin’ to clean you up with? wipes or somethin’ until you shower?”

you open your desk drawer and pull out a pack of baby wipes. you present the package to hobie, who pops it open and takes one out.

he doesn’t ask you to move, merely just lowers himself to the ground and with gentle hands, wipe up the mixed mess of saliva and your juices.

you whine, presumably from the unavoidable ache that accompanies your sensitivity.

“i’m sorry, lovely. have to,” hobie tries to be as quick and harmless as possible, soothing you with kisses to your inner thigh. they’re well mannered and innocent, until you’re clean enough and he’s throwing the baby wipe away. “are you okay, though? you don’t regret it, do you?”

you watch hobie straighten out your dress again. his gaze is as polite as it can get, avoiding any look at your pussy, although its right in front of him. instead, he meets your eyes until he rises to his feet. “um, no.” you’re back to being quiet, hands clasped and fumbling with each other.

you’re suddenly aware of how close he’s standing but it’s short lived when hobie is making his way back to the door to put his shoes on.

“i’m gonna go because i’m sure you want to process that and get your space and whatever else, yeah? but don’t worry, i’ll answer your texts and your calls.” he does feel bad, as if he’s fuck-and-dashing you but in reality, if he doesn’t get out of here, he’ll be too tempted to try and actually fuck you. “i’ll be back tomorrow to walk you to class, doll.”

you’re speechless as you watch him gather himself to leave, grateful for the space because you could probably explode right now. you also miss your panties just barely peeking out of his pocket.

“and feel free me to ask me again if you ever need my help.” and with that, he’s gone with a soft click of your door.

#࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #hobie x reader #x reader #hobie x y/n

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talkbycolor · 5 months

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the nun and the soldier

A/N; I ACTUALLY DREAMED ABOUT THIS AND THOUGHT LOL WHAT A GOOD IDEA FOR AN OS

Pairing; "[REDACTED]" x AFAB!Reader

CW; cnc? for someone who doesnt know how to put limits the line is very blurry, you will guess / daddy kink but in a priestly way / def religion kink, breeding but im not sure if its just a kink, worship but im not sure who worships who the most / this is more like an au like 1940 battlefield where [REDACTED] is a soldier and MC a nun

The night was like a classic old horror movie scene.

And how not to be scared? Outside the cathedral it was raining heavily, the skies were roaring from the electrical storm and the only lighting was the holy candles, that place was a refuge for the homeless.

After all, many people needed comfort in times of war.

You had decided to stay until midnight, praying to your father to protect the soldiers in battle, that the families would stop going hungry, you held the wooden cross that hung from your chest so tightly, begging for the massacre to stop, the times They brought sadness to the entire nation and God had to save them.

A loud clap of thunder echoed outside the cathedral and the doors were opened, the cold of the night and the wind caused the flame of some candles to go out, so holding the cross tightly to your chest you turned to see who dared to break in. with such violence in the house of God.

"Who's there?" You asked as you walked towards the huge wooden gate.

A man in uniform walked in, soaked from the rain, he looked tired, hungry, hurt, he barely made eye contact with you you felt a chill run through your entire body, not just because of the weather.

"I need food" He was a soldier, you nodded immediately and helped him walk to take a seat on one of the benches while you went to the warehouse for something the man could eat, there was food stored that was going to be donated, or that's what the priest said.

You returned with canned food and some water for the stranger, who snatched your things to eat like a dying dog, water running down his chin and eating haphazardly as he breathed heavily.

"Sir, are you okay? Where is he coming from?" You didn't avoid being curious when asking those questions, although just one cold look from him was enough to make you close your mouth.

…

You only heard him chewing, the man seemed to have had a really bad time and it was no wonder that you could tell from miles away that he was a soldier, and since he came alone, there was a high probability that he was one of the few survivors in the trenches, but you are not going to assume too much.

"Father, please help this poor man to heal his wounds safely, to regain his strength, to protect his life on the battlefield and the lives of our nation -…"

"Stop talking shit" he interrupted you in a vulgar way, causing astonishment on your face, even disgust.

"That is no way to speak before the lord" You scolded him, the black-haired man only laughed hoarsely.

"Bring me clothes, I'm freezing in this" he demanded arrogantly, getting rid of his wet clothes, your kind soul heeded his words, because that's what you were, right? A sweet nun willing to help the needy, love your neighbor as your god ordered.

"Excuse me, I only found the priest's old clothes and I'm not sure they fit him, I hope they can help you" You said as you returned to the bench, he once again snatched the things from your hand.

Yes, he was a rude man.

The minutes passed, the candles continued to melt at the altar, you were praying in front of the golden statue of your lord while the soldier was resting on the benches, grunting at his wounds and trying to stay warm.

"Hey, nun, since you won't shut up come here, I think I know how you could keep that mouth busy" The man suggested with a cheeky smile, it was unheard of how he could say such things in the lord's house.

"Hey! That's enough of-…"

"It wasn't a question, come here or I'll come for you" his voice was sharp, and with no intention of continuing to listen to you, seeing how you froze in surprise he grumbled and took the trouble to walk towards you.

Right in front of the golden statue of your god, he subdued you to the ground and lifted your robe to reveal your underwear, that man was shameless because he simply buried his face between your asscheeks to inhale deeply.

"HEY! HEY" WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" You begged him, confusion and disgust replaced with terror, but… he was a soldier, a man willing to sacrifice his life for his nation.

"Please, honey, aren't you supposed to be a helpful sweetheart? You promised to help me stay warm, and this is my last dinner before I die?" He murmured on your back, riding you without a word, his hands had already pulled down your underwear while you were busy in your thoughts.

"Oh my god, this can't be happening, I'm supposed to stay pure" You whimpered as you covered your face, too embarrassed by the situation but not trying to push the man away.

He was an angel sent by god to save the country, it would be so rude to reject any order he gave.

He ground his hips against yours in a messy manner, he hadn't even prepared you well when your pussy was already engulfing his cock.

"Wow, you're so tight, so it's true that nuns are virgins, right? I feel so lucky to be the one to take your chastity, dear." His voice was teasing in your ear as you squeezed your eyes shut to endure the sudden intrusion, you were Pretty sure you would bleed.

No one would pass by the cathedral at that time of night, much less in a storm, the clicking of both skins echoed in the enormous building, right in the eyes of your lord.

"P-please forgive me Father for I have sinned, forgive me so much" A hand grabbed your jaw to silence you.

"You better ask thanks to the Lord because you will soon have a son, I will take care of filling this pretty pussy of yours to the brim, okay, angel?" He mocked your prayers but the seriousness in his voice was immaculate, he really wanted to impregnate your womb with his seed.

Your legs were shaking as you tried to stay in the doggy position, the soldier was selfish, penetrating your wet cunt for the sole purpose of having his release and getting you pregnant.

"S-sir please slow down, I feel like you're going to break me" You begged, snot slipping out of your nose as well as tears at how disastrous the situation was, the problem wasn't that the man was using you, because he was part of the brave army that risked his life, it is logical that you want to help.

"... We shouldn't be doing this in the Father's house." Sob quietly, your body reacted so well to his touch and it was inevitable not to moan, causing echoes in the cathedral.

"No, no, angel, call me father, you don't want your lord to hear you acting like a slut in his holy home." His calloused hands squeezed your hips and he pulled you like a wolf would its prey towards its nest.

"My god, angel, you feel so good, I'm melting between your walls, I want to spill all my essence inside you, you're being so good for me, I promise you it will feel better" He whispered lovingly despite the furious thrusts. that you received. "Don't worry, this is what your god wants, right? Demigods are worshiped with flowers, real gods need blood." His tone felt so somber, his hand traveled to your crotch to caress, collecting said blood, your blood.

So if he died on the battlefield, he would at least have left his inheritance in the world and he wouldn't be completely forgotten, right? His greedy hands ran over every inch of your skin under your tunic, squeezing the flesh, he too seemed inexperienced too, moaning and letting out incoherencies as he ground his groin against you, saliva running down his jaw as he moaned like a dog, panting, his eyes rolling back, sharper sounds until you both trembled violently.

Just as he said, you were dripping, as soon as a mirror cascade came out of you and warm semen was present from your pussy, his member was already a little more flaccid as he observed such a work of art in front of him.

He didn't want to die, he wanted this stupid war to end so he could get this nun pregnant and raise a child together.

"It's okay, you'll be okay" he murmured one last time as he clung to you, taking you into his arms with a blank look, but his words weren't.

He promised that when all that was over he would return to you to take care of you and the baby, that was what he wanted most, a life without daily blood, peace.

It's a shame that the promise would never be fulfilled.

♡

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere visual novel #14dwy ren #14 days with you ren #14 days with you #14dwy redacted #redacted x reader #smut #breeding k1nk #religion kink #priest kink #damn its midnight again

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onedayimgonnasnap · 1 year

Note

How about dating hcs for Solomon, Simeon, Diavolo, and Barbatos?

Obey Me Dateable HC!!

He’s extremely clingy and self conscious, he was a sheltered child when he was younger only really knowing Barbatos.

Meeting Lucifer got him a new friend, however when you came into his life, he first wanted to selfishly use you as a way to get peace in the Devildom.

He really likes inviting you over to his castle with random excuses just to hang out and spend time with you.

He likes to solve puzzles with you in general. The puzzles you both solve can range between Minions, Garfield and actual realism 1,000 pieces

Depending on your race and culture he wants to know a lot about it specifically. He wants to eat food from your culture, know the history, the major religion, etc.

He also likes to ask you random things about humans like; “What colors can you humans see?”

Or “Is it true all humans believe depending on the day they were born it affects their personality by the stars? How romantic”

It’s really cute-

He also gets extremely jealous knowing you’re having so much fun with the demon brothers while he’s stuck doing paperwork. He’s so close to throwing a tantrum in front of Barbatos.

You both def have sleep over often-

He also uses human world Gen Z TikTok slang so beware of that in general it can be extremely scary to see.

Another thing about him is that You, him and Lucifer hang out a lot whether you like it or not because he likes it when his closest and favorite people hang out together.

It’s really embarrassing when Diavolo is linking arms with both you and Lucifer skipping around the human world.

You’re not even waking, with how tall and strong he is you’re being dragged.

There are tears in your eyes from how fast you’re going.

Lucifer and you both be fighting and brawling in general.

With Barbatos, it’s really hard to find time to hang out with him. However he does try to make time to hang out with you.

If you’re ever feeling insecure he’ll correct it immediately, he knows when you’re feeling sad like an alarm.

It’s his 7th sense.

Also you’re gonna come second after Diavolo whether you like it or not.

If you and Barbatos are getting all romantic, cuddly or even hot and heavy just a reminder there’s always gonna be a Diavolo who may cockblock anytime and Barbatos won’t get seemingly mad.

He will get frustrated and sad though.

He likes to sit in the shower after a long day of dealing with Diavolo and Solomon’s bullshit.

He does enjoy cuddling and he loves it when you play with his hair. It de-stresses him a lot and makes him happy.

He often invites you grocery shopping in general, it’s basically like a date whether it’s romantic enough or not.

He can be romantic, sometimes you wake up to find a bunch of gifts, especially if you’re having a rough day or you’re about to.

If someone has hurt you in the past- oh boy Barbatos will make them wish that they were never born. The most sadistic ass you’ve ever met.

Once you got jumped by a couple of bullies, before you could do something Barbatos was right behind them smiling scarily.

You’ve never seen them again. However lil D No. 2 said he’s heard a lot more screaming in the dungeon lately.

These demons might be kind however they’re still demons and won’t hesitate to cut a bitch.

He also loves to make you breakfast in bed when you’re sleeping, it’s one of the most romantic shit you’ve ever experienced. It’s a whole 5 star meal, there’s chocolate chip fluffy pancakes, bacon, eggs, some chopped up strawberries shaped into a heart and either orange juice or hot chocolate depending on the weather.

Over all busy, but will never let you forget his love towards you.

Even though you’re both in the relationship he makes you second guess dating him sometimes.

Whether it’s through pranks or just him cooking you up a meal.

You learned to turn off your taste buds. You don’t know how you learned this unique skill but you now have it when he makes you the most disgusting food ever known to mankind.

Depending on your culture, make food to please you depending on where you’re from on what’s common.

You cried while eating it-

He’s also a very sweet but it feels scary for no reason when he’s doing something nice for you, you know it’s not fake but it’s a feeling-

You and him both like to have extremely deep conversations of society, religion, and social normalities.

You and him both enjoy it in general talking about it randomly.

You both also visit the human world often. He’s met your parents, your parents saw this snowball of a fucker walk in their house holding your hand acting like it owns the place.

Sometimes he’s at the house of Lametation randomly, he’s getting a glass of water and leaving.

Asmo cried because he caught you both making out and Asmo wasn’t invited into a three way with his two favorite people.

Because he’s immortal he tends to zone out a lot, especially when you’re both cuddling. It can get depressing because he knows someday he might lose you.

He wants to keep you forever but he knows that it’s selfish and wrong to do so, since you shouldn’t have to suffer like he is.

Who knows maybe you’ll join him/j Unless?

He’s spending as much time with you as possible and is extremely careful with what he says because words can hurt.

However once you both started fighting over which side the toilet paper should go on.

He also likes to invite you over and use you as an experiment for many magic spells, and potions. Don’t worry all of them are safe, but he’s just curious since you love him you’ll let him right?

Simeon is probably the most romantic mother fucker you’ll ever be with.

He loves to write you love letters, sometimes you’re minding your own business in your bed, studying or just watching a movie when you look out to see a dove carrying a letting pecking the window.

It doesn’t matter the day, he loves to write them to you, he’s not expecting one back but if you do write one back he’ll take care of it and never lose it.

If you do? He's blushing, giggling, twirling his hair around his finger, kicking his feet and fangirling in general.

It doesn’t matter if the love letter you feel like is utter shit and has the worst handwriting known to mankind Simeon eats that shit up.

However, if you’re writing a story, fanfiction, novel, play? He’s gonna criticize you in the most annoying and professional way possible. He loves you, however his writing author instincts get the best of him.

One thing about him is that he appreciates any form of art whether it be writing, painting, making sculptures or acting. He loves it.

If you have any hobbies like those he’ll love to see your creativity in general.

If you don’t have any hobbies or interest in those however that’s ok he loves you the same regardless. He will also love to see your other hobbies though, he likes to spend time with you exploring new things.

You’re also his first romantic relationship. I feel like you're his first lover so he wants to try his best because he feels like he’s not your first lover.

Something you and him both do is basically sit in silence doing your own thing, it’s extremely relaxing to you both.

Especially after a long day.

He tends to mother you a lot, if you have been studying too much? He’ll make sure to walk you outside and get some fresh air. Hungry? He and Luke will shove food down your throat.

He loves to spoon feed you, he has his head learning over on one of his hands while his other hand is feeding you.

A date you and him had once was of him bringing you into a garden with a bunch of flowers while some music played in the background while you both started dancing and a bunch of fireflies started flying around you.

You and him officially adopted Luke by the way. There’s no getting around that. You three are a big happy family, and you will take many family pictures.

You and him definitely tease Luke a lot, but at the end of the day Simeon is a little overprotective of Luke.

You’ve walked into the room so many times while Simeon lectured Luke for being closed minded.

But you’re both proud at how much Luke has grown mentally over the years he’s been at the Devildom.

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greenunoreversecard · 3 months

Text

Kai general and Romantic headcanons

A/N:sorry if I got any of the characters wrong, I was using a combo of wiki/Google translate as I don't speak any of the languages mentioned. Pls let me know if I got any info wrong, i will gladly go in and change it to make it right.

General:

Half Indian and half Chinese.

His and nya's last name is 鄭 (Zheng), but he says it's Smith bc when they where younger he got in the habit of lying about his name so he Didnt have to deal with CPS.

His ma is from Visakhapatnam in Andhra Pradesh, and was a practicing Hindu. Ray is from the 云南 (yunnan) province, and was a practicing theravida Buddhist. Ray is ethnically from the 傣族 (dai people, also spelt Tai in english)

Before his parents dissapearances, they both brought him to their hometowns, and actively taught him both cultures and religions, which he continued to learn about and even teach Nya about after their dissapearances.

When he was 14 he bought a small boat and him and Nya rode it across the costal line, and he promised Nya one day when he was older he'd bring the both of them to their parents hometowns.

He's a Buddhist.

He speaks so many languages.

Like so many

He's fluent in Thai, mandarin and cantonese chinese, telugu, urdu, hindi, Punjabi, arabic and ninjago-ian(idk whatever language ninjago speaks)

Also trying to learn Indonesian.

He also knows yunnan dialect bc his dad would speak in it more often than not

Absorbes info like a sponge

He likes to quilt

He always wears a golden bracelet He got from his moms jewelry box after she left.

Likes to draw but is bad at it, so he colors coloring books

Introvert

He may act all confident, but he really isn't. super insecure

Soooo good with hair

Like, has all the stops. 10 step hair care routine

rivals Zanes cooking skills.

When working out focuses on building rather than lean muscle.

Mother friend

has dragged all of his friends into the water splashing festival.

Fatal flaw is loyalty and kind of hubris (it's conflicting, ik with the insecure and extreme pride, but like- it makes sense in my head. Inferiority/maybe superiority complex.)(it makes sense bc this is such me behavior. Imagine hating yourself but thinking ur the baddest bitch alive)

Likes to stare at fire

If he can't sleep he'll make a small bonfire to stare at and think

insomnia

Chronic cigarette smoker

Romantic:

Hes more show than tell

Def acts of service (me frfr)

Although, he is very cuddly.

Not in public, though. Maybe infront of the other ninja if it was a rough day

Loves to rock you gently from side to side when yall are hug

loves to give you temple kisses

He's very gentle with you, treats you like glass

You wil prolly say ily first, and he'll go;"🧍‍♂️...cool?"

He has mommy and daddy issues, but HEAVY on the mommy issues. Have fun with this hyper-independant fuck who can't accept help without feeling like a failure even though they need it (I'm not projecting you are)

Goes all out for holidays and anniversaries.

Doberman/German Shepard vibes tbh

When it's just you two he doesn't feel the need to fill the air with meaningless chatter, so if he feels safe enough to just share air without talking feel honoured and cherish it bc that means he actually trusts you.

A little rough around the edges, but will remember that thing you said 5years ago on ur first date

Most dates are chill inside and take a nap

But sometimes if he can he takes you on the town or someplace fancy

Also likes to show you his favorite childhood spots

#greeny's inbox #kai ninjago #Ninjago #ninjago headcanons #lego ninjago #ninjago fandom #Ninjago x reader #Ninjago x male reader #Ninjago x you #ninjago kai x reader #ninjago kai #kai smith x reader #kai jiang #nya jiang #kai smith #Ninjago Kai Zheng

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tree-obsession · 2 months

Text

Aventurine, the Waste Land, the black hole, and luck- analysis on aventurine's possible fate

possible spoilers for 2.1 trailblaze mission

possible tws for suicide/suicidal idealization, mentions of slavery, and a massacre

ok there is. a lot to unpack for this mission but I would like to focus on the references to The Waste Land (by T.S. Elliot, fucking amazing poem btw) that were in Aventurine's parts?

First of all the achievements- the "Sibyl, what do you wish for?" and "She answers, I wish to die" or something like that. That is the very first thing in the poem we see- to put a long story short, it's a reference to how there was this oracle named Sibyl in Greek Mythology, blessed to live forever by Apollo. Apollo got angry after she refused to have sex with him and cursed her so that while she would live forever, her body would slowly waste away, eventually becoming dust kept in a jar. A couple of boys one day come up to this prison jar and ask her "Sibyl, what do you wish for?" and then she answers that she wants to die. This could be a reference to Aventurine, who is always so lucky but at that moment truly didn't wish to be lucky, and really did want to die. Yet he was stuck, unable to live- considering he is something of a "chosen" of Gaiathra Triclops, she could be the one who cursed him, in disguise of a "blessing" of good luck.

second, the maze scene. there were two references here, both from the fifth(fourth? it's been a hot minute since I read this poem, the details aren't all clear) part of the poem. it talks about a deserted waste land, where rain never falls, there is only lightning and rocks/sand. this matches up with descriptions of sigonia, as a desert planet that's referred to as "the unclaimed desolation", and also some of those lines are directly said in the white text that floated around the maze(which i'll be referring to as floating text from now on). the second reference was also in the floating text, which talks about how "there is another presence/person beside us", or something very similar. I don't have the direct quotation, but this is also a direct reference- within the poem, there are two travelers in this "waste land", and the narrator mentions feeling a presence that wasn't truly there. According to Elliot himself, his inspiration for this part of the poem was from an account of an Antarctic journey, where the person who wrote the account said he and his men were so out of it due to exhaustion they had begun to hallucinate another presence who wasn't actually there. this is probably referencing how mini-aventurine and present-aventurine both exist, and have existed, but the future-aventurine technically does not exist yet and literally is just popping up, clearly not "real" in the physical sense but definitely there. within the poem, there are a lot of speculations between scholars about why Eliiot decided to add this hallucinated dude in but one popular theory is that it's Christ, in disguise, which is really interesting considering The Family's Christian imagery. something to watch out for when Aventurine returns to the story (he def isn't dead, but as to when he's returning... :( i can't get my hopes up) or if anyone else analyzes this more deeply.

now, why the waste land? it's universally considered a pretty depressing poem, about how the world after World War I was torn apart and collapsing in on itself, and portrays a lot of characters who aren't living life to their fullest at all. it references many famous texts and literary works, pointing at literature as an amalgamation of all other literature and also acting as a metaphor for how everything builds off each other, so one thing collapsing could result in everything collapsing. there are a lot of references to different religions as well. perhaps the best way to put it is that Elliot was portraying a world under threat of total collapse, and asks the reader if there is anything humanity can do to save it, or if we must simply salvage what we can. the ending also implies peace is a far-off, perhaps unreachable thing since everything is so discordant. but you get the idea at this point- the poem is about decay and rotting over time. I don't have the greatest grasp on either this poem or aventurine's psyche, but the 2.1 quest revealed a lot- he is an incredibly lucky person who is in a lot of bad situations but gets out every time, and has never lost a bet (despite his life otherwise being absolutely terrible). the waste land itself could simply be sigonia, and then perhaps aventurine himself is a representation of the characters within the poem. practically all scholars agree that in this poem, all the female characters coalesce into one character, and the male characters do so too, and then there is one uniting character between the "male" and "female"- tiresias, who according to Elliot has "foreseen and foresuffered all". he is described as the most important figure in the poem by Elliot himself. Tiresias is an androgynous figure, but is referred to with he/his. he also is the only one to say "I" in the poem, and despite the fact he is blind he can see all, even the future- in mythology, he was a prophet like the Sibyl. "what Tiresias sees is, in fact, the substance of the poem", as Elliot says- in other words, what he sees seems to be the closest thing to the truth you will get.

now obviously that's pretty valuable, considering literally everyone is lying in penacony (in the livestream they said the entire guest list is filled with question marks in place of names, implying everyone's identities there were fake- other than Sparkle's, but she's a Masked Fool and will trick people just for the hell of it, so not exactly the best ally). however (this is where speculation starts) I think this could be possibly very subtle foreshadowing for Aven's return! and I know this may sound delusional but. it's established he's not dead. his stone is out, but that's quite possibly because he's next to a fricking black hole and also Acheron possibly had "freed" him, in some sense? that conversation he had with her obviously changed a lot of things for him as a character, and she said she could break the harmony's bonds on him... also, clearly if he wasn't dead while waking up next to a black hole, that's certainly a surefire way to tell his luck hasn't run out yet. the entire mission was spent establishing his luck is perfect, given by the goddess of his planet, and will never fail him. this is like near emanator-level shit- obviously not quite in terms of any special power, but he was specifically chosen by this goddess, was born on a special day, and due to sheer luck is the last one standing of his clan (apparently). literally everything was set up against him and he's only still alive due to a literal goddess-given power, which is absolutely nuts and almost overpowered if it weren't for the fact that he also seems to be in many scenarios where luck and gambling is the only way to get out at all. the massacre, the enslavement, killing his old master, the weird warlord thing that got brought up, penacony... his luck is purely for getting out of bad situations, it seems.

that was kind of a tangent. anyway! the whole mission was establishing how good his luck was. he got into this situation where the only solution is to walk into a black hole and see the other side of penacony- that is a classic example of "there is an extremely, extremely narrow chance of getting out alive". acheron did it, or something similar, so clearly it's possible- but luck and chance would be the only way. this is the cycle of his life- he's in an absolutely shitty situation, but he will get out due to luck. imo it's a terrible idea writing-wise to keep him explicitly alive up to the very end and going into a situation- alive- which he can survive in due to his luck, right after giving him fulfilling conversation with both acheron and his past self and seeing the uplifting note from Ratio... just to offscreen him, or kill him for some reason related to this "other side of penacony". it wouldn't line up with all that we know about him now. granted, I can't imagine it'll be pleasant and his mental state will be even worse at the end of it... but he'll be alive, and he's made it through a lot of hellish situations. he might not like his luck all the time, and it can be either a blessing or a curse given the scenario, but he's kind of stuck with it- until he withers away, just like Sibyl. Death does seem to be inevitable, but as of right now it's not knocking on his door.

tldr: for now, our boy isn't dead and his luck might be a curse to him but it's clearly going to keep him alive for quite a bit longer :)

tysm for reading and have a nice day!

#honkai star rail #hsr #aventurine #hsr spoilers #my fav poem and my fav character #whoo!!!#acheron #(mentioned)#hsr theory #honkai star rail theory #kakavasha #my beloved <<<333 #i wanted to squish mini-aventurine's cheeks SO BADLY whenever he came onscreen

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qtboni · 1 year

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[from my heart to yours! ✩ // bachira meguru]

PAIRING: bf!bachira (blue lock) x afab!reader

SUMMARY: your boyfriend might need a creative outlet outside of soccer, so doing a craft night together can be a fun way to spend time together.

TYPE/GENRE: heart to heart! ya’ll are painter luvers, def sfw, fluff with comfort (?), humor cz it’s crack, and bachira being a softie YIPEE!

CW/TW: explicit words (sh!t) and like having paint in your skin.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

A/N: wanted to cope w/ my exams last week so i made this HAHAHA enjoy aaaaaa i luv this bby sm ><

"have you ever noticed how football looks like a giant game of keep-away?"

bachira asked as he continued on mixing the two pigments on his palette. you paused on your sketching from your canvass to look at him. you couldn't help but snicker at his response.

"i mean, it's just a bunch of grown men chasing a ball around, trying to hog it as much as possible. it's like a bunch of toddlers fighting over a toy."

you snorted as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. "how ironic, meguru." you sarcastically stated and continued on with your work, diverting your attention to the half-made composition you drew. "don't you want to read between those lines?"

you and bachira decided to have a craft night together, and bachira got really excited when you suggested painting instead of crocheting. after all, he had a reputation for being a man of action, and crocheting just seemed too 'delicate' for him. plus, the idea of being able to create something with his own hands really appealed to him. however, when he realized how much patience and focus it took to paint, he quickly regretted his decision and muttered something about how he should have stuck with crocheting.

but despite his initial frustrations, bachira actually started to enjoy painting once he got into the flow of it. he found that the creativity and self-expression he could experience through painting was a refreshing change from the rigidity and discipline of soccer training. he even started to experiment with different techniques and art styles, and you could see the excitement and fascination on his face as he worked.

bachira shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "i guess i let my inner cynic take over at times," he said, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "but honestly, sometimes it feels like that's all soccer is - just a bunch of dudes chasing after a ball and trying to score,"

you watch him dip his brush into the mixture of colors and then apply it to the canvas in a rapid series of strokes, creating an intricate pattern. "it's easy to forget that there's more to it than just that, and that the game can be so rewarding on so many different levels."

you smiled at his response, appreciating his willingness to share his thoughts and emotions. "i completely agree," you said, brushing paint onto the canvas. "sure, the thrill of scoring a goal is amazing, but there's so much more to the game than that. it's about teamwork, strategy, and determination. all things that can be applied to so many other aspects of life. it's what makes soccer such a universal and powerful sport, in my opinion."

you reach over to his side for a different brush from his toolkit to add a new texture or technique to his painting. you feel bachira's head nodding in agreement from your shoulder.

"exactly," he said as he looked over at your shoulder to gaze at your pretty face. "it's so much more than just a game - it's a way of life. and it's something that connects people from all over the world, regardless of race, religion, or language. it's a language that everyone can understand. a-and that's what makes it so special, in my opinion."

as the two of you sat together, surrounded by brushes, paints, and canvases, you couldn't help but notice the way bachira's eyes lit up with excitement whenever he talked about soccer or art. he took his time explaining the nuances of different strategies, and you found yourself getting lost in his passion for the game. you could tell that he was someone who loved diving deep into the details and figuring out the best way to approach a situation.

and it wasn't just his soccer stories that captivated you - bachira was an incredible artist too. you were really impressed. 'not bad for a first timer, huh?' you thought as you watched him humming a tune while painting. there was something truly captivating about watching him mix colors and apply them to a canvas, and you found yourself genuinely impressed by the beauty and depth of his creations. You could tell that he had a unique and powerful vision, and you felt honored to be a part of it.

clearing his throat, bachira decided to switch gears, "the way that painting helped me express my emotions and release stress," as he spoke, his voice became softer and his eyes more soulful, and you found yourself drawn in by his passion and eloquence. "and how every brushstroke was like a part of myself being transferred onto the canvas to be shared with the world."

as the two of you sat there, surrounded by the mess of paints, brushes, and canvases, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility and calm wash over you. bachira's words, filled with passion and emotion, echoed in your ears, making you feel as though you were the only two people in the world.

it was as if time had stopped in that moment, frozen in place, allowing you to fully savor the depth of feelings between you. the silence was broken only by the occasional brushstroke, the sound of pigment on canvas almost mesmerizing in its own right.

you found yourself being drawn in by bachira once again - his cute and focused expression on his face, and the little pout on his lips. and his eyes, his eyes are as though they were a window to his soul. the tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the electricity between you.

it was during this moment of connection that Bachira suddenly turned to you and spoke from the heart. "i love you," he said simply, but with a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat. the words hitting you like a bolt of lightning. it was like a shockwave that traveled through your entire being, leaving you speechless and overwhelmed with emotion.

it was as though all the pieces of your life had finally fallen into place, and you knew, in that moment, that you had found something truly special with bachira. the love between you was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel like you were the luckiest person in the world to have found someone who understood and appreciated you on such a deep level. the moment felt all too precious, and you were desperate to hold on to it forever.

feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who had become such an important part of your life, you whispered, "i love you too, meguru."

you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and hold him close.

and that's exactly what happened next. bachira pulled you into an embrace, his arms strong and comforting around you. you breathed in the scent of his hair and the warmth of his body, and felt a sense of contentment wash over you. for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world could possibly matter, except for the two of you in each other's arms.

but then, suddenly, you felt the sensation of a brushstroke on your cheek. bachira chuckled and pulled away from you, holding the brush in his hand. "i couldn't resist," he said with a boyish grin. "i thought a little bit of art on my sweet baby could add to the moment."

"wh-"

you watch as he dipped the brush into a jar of red paint and drew half of a heart on your cheek, using soft and careful strokes that made you feel as though your skin were being caressed. "what do you mean?"

then, he turned to his own cheek and you see him drawing the other half of the heart, before turning back to you.

"a little art that," he pressed his right cheek to your left so that the two halves of the heart joined together to form a full symbol of love and connection. "connects the both of us together."

you feel like you were going to cry then and there. the moment was so perfect, so full of both sweetness and passion, that you knew that it would be a memory that would stay with you forever. "because the heart that you gave to me is so special to me."

"meguru…"

he hears your faint whisper and looks at you.

"thank you,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both affection and reverence. “it’s so beautiful and meaningful…”

at the sound of your voice, bachira's eyes soften, and he leans closer to you, his breath warm on your cheek. you can feel the beat of his heart as it races against your own, and you know that you are both caught up in the same moment. it's as though the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of sweet, shared emotions.

as bachira's lips brush against your ear, his voice is little more than a whisper. "y/n, you are like nothing else in this world, and the love that i feel for you is something that i will never take for granted.”

the words seem to hang in the air between you, like a precious jewel that you both want to hold onto forever. for a moment, it feels as though time has stopped, and the two of you are lost in each other's gaze. the world around you seems to have dissolved, leaving only the two of you and the love that you share.

bachira kissed your forehead ever so softly.

it's a moment that you know you'll never forget, a moment of pure and unadulterated joy and emotion that feels like it could go on forever. in that moment, you feel like you are both the luckiest people in the world, surrounded by love and understanding that will see you through whatever life may throw your way. and you know that this will be a memory that will stay with you forever, a reminder of the magic that can exist in the world when two people find each other and allow themselves to fall completely, hopelessly in love.

for a moment, the two of you were lost in silence, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's presence. it was a quiet moment, yet it was full of a palpable sense of connection and appreciation. you felt like you had found something truly special in bachira, something that went beyond words. and you knew that it would be a friendship that would last a lifetime.

**BONUS!**

it was a quiet night in bachira's room, the air thick with the scent of paint and the soft sound of bachira's music wafting through the air. you and bachira were both painting, the two of you lost in the world of art and creativity that you shared.

as you worked on your canvas, you looked over at bachira's artwork and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for his skill and talent. "that actually is pretty art, bachira," you said quietly, your voice tinged with awe.

bachira looked up at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "well ofc it would be," he said, his tone teasing. "why, what did you think before?"

you felt a small flush of embarrassment fill your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a laugh. "i thought it was gonna be shit," you replied, your tone equally as teasing.

"y/n!" bachira whined, the sound making you laugh even harder.

the two of you continued to laugh, your voices filling the room with a sense of warmth and joy. it was moments like this that reminded you of just how special your relationship with bachira was, the way that you could be completely and utterly yourself around him and still be loved and appreciated for it.

it was then that bachira spoke, his voice soft and almost hesitant. "y/n," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "this actually connects us, yeah?"

your breath caught in your throat at the simple beauty of his words, and you couldn't help but feel a lump form in your throat. "of course it does," you said softly, your voice almost shaking with emotion. "it's a piece of art that represents the love that we have for each other, and that's something that will always connect us."

bachira smiled, his eyes full of a tender warmth that filled you with a sense of peace and love. it was in that moment that you knew that this was a moment that you would always remember, a moment of pure and unadulterated joy and emotion that was unlike anything else you had ever experienced.

@tsunag1, 2023 — i ws on a hiatus sorry guys! mm but now i’m back on the role 💪😼‼️woot pls like and reblog my works if you like it! it's helpful and is vv much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

#tsunag1! ♡#bllk bachira #bachira fluff #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #baby bachira #bachira meguru #bachira x you #bachira headcanons #bachira x reader #bachira imagines #bachira smut #blue lock #blue lock fluff

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glue-thief · 2 months

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misc. isakainess/kainessagi hcs bc there needs to be more stuff about them

isagi and ness were actually the first to get together first

kaiser always demands to be in the middle when cuddling

ness started off as the main cook but isagi decided to get into the kitchen himself cuz no one else was gonna make him japanese food lmao

you know it's bad when he starts missing natto of all things

kaiser can't fucking cook. he's not allowed in the kitchen.

not that he's complaining

stuff about meeting each other's parents:

i'm gonna be honest, kaiser's backstory could go in literally any way so i cannot imagine wtf his parents would be like so i'm skipping his parents for now

isagi's parents would probably be shocked that 1) their son is gay, and 2) their son has two bfs??? but they'd be super supportive and shower kaiser + ness w tons of love and food

meanwhile, isagi and kaiser meeting ness's parents.....

uhh

i think they would actually be surprisingly progressive despite... everything so they wouldn't be too bothered by the fact that ness is queer & polyam

they WOULD have a problem w the ppl he chose as partners though lmao

they would high-key be judging kaiser and kaiser would be super snippy back at them

isagi would try to be nice but the moment it came out that his least favourite subjects in school were math and science?

nahh bro's cooked

i feel like ness's siblings would be single and ness would be like "you may have mom and dad's love and approval but i have two partners while you both have NONE. BITCH"

safe to say they won't be spending christmas with ness's family

actually now that you think of it

do any of them celebrate christmas

ness's parents are def the type of science-obsessed atheists to scoff at all religion so they DEFINITELY never celebrated christmas lmao

kaiser... i really don't fucking know what his family was like but the ONE thing i'm sure of is that bitch was raised catholic

he's probably no longer religious though so as an adult he never really bothered doing anything special for it

deep down ness has always wanted to experience the magic of santa and stuff or whatever but he never had the courage to bring it up

the one who spurs everyone into celebrating christmas is isagi actually 😭😭

bro's literally the one most removed from the context of religion

but yk how kfc in japan somehow convinced everyone that eating kfc on christmas is a holiday tradition

on dec 25 isagi just said "heyy it's christmas we should go eat at kfc"

then ness and kaiser just stared at him like "wtf do you mean"

and they both have to explain, no, eating kfc is not in fact a christmas tradition in the west, that's a capitalist lie

they go to kfc anyway and that's the extent of their christmas celebrations lmao

i lingered way too much on the christmas thing for three characters who are currently not religious at all

anywayyyy this is getting long and i can always make another set of hcs another time <3

#blue lock #bllk #isakainess #kainessagi #kaisagi #kainess #isaness #nessagi #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #michael kaiser #alexis ness

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ruthlesslistener · 1 year

Note

I know that wyrms don't actually care that much but I do wonder if PK making himself bugsized is an anomaly among wyrms. I feel like he's just enough of a Strange Person to do that and I also feel like he made the decision when he was still Young And Stupid.

Tbf I feel like he had to have been an anomaly based on what Godseeker said when talking about his corpse. IIRC, she said something along the lines of how confused she was that he made himself small when the vast, magnificent form would have drawn much more attention. Godseeker, as I've said before, has a very flawed and biased perspective, but she does know enough about the link to worship and power for me to think she might be right with this one, in that PK's original wyrm form was much more adept at conquering and gathering prospective worshippers. Him casting that aside to take on a bug form and walk among them as their king is an anomaly that sticks out like a sore thumb among all the other, more distant gods of Hallownest, so I can only assume that he did it bc he was genuinely fascinated and charmed by them, which is further confirmed by the lengths he was willing to go to in order to save them vs use them as pawns/simply let them die like Unn and Radi. He def. got in over his head considering the fact that he canonically became a shut-in recluse, but the point is still there- dude's just weird.

I don't think this is a case of him being young and dumb either, PK is genuinely just a really fucking weird god. There's canon evidence of him bargaining with the Mosskin/Unn, Herrah, and the Mantis Lords as if he were their equal, even though he is a god who probably could have just enthralled and conquered them to do his bidding. He won his chunk of Hallownest by getting the moths to swap religion vs just brute force conquering, like Radi did. Dude's like that weird quiet kid in math class who does his level best to not be seen who you could probably kick over with zero effort, but somehow ends up being respected anyways bc he's a crazy good tutor if you can manage to corner and bribe him after class. W e i r d

(I also take her line about how abruptly his power vanished to be proof that his death was a suicide attempt, but tbf it was also very vague. Everything about him post-canon just screams 'I'm dying leave me alone' energy rather than him being fully done for, which makes sense given how terribly long it is for gods to truely die)

#hollow knight #the pale king #anon #reply #if it sounds like im looking down on him its bc i am #it was clever and fascinating and the radiance horrifies me but #i have a lot of respect for a badass inhuman warrior who conquers with great bloodshed #been writing too many notes on dragon societies lmfao

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fireemblems24 · 5 months

Text

Golden Wildfire Ch 14

Almost done guys. I can stick with it.

STORY

Oh no, The Empire is in danger. Anyways . . .

They're all shocked Edelgard is asking for help because she's putting her in debt to them.

Haha, they're considering just leaving her there and letting the Empire die. Lorenz came up with it. Based.

I know Claude will go bail her out, which is really stupid for a guy who claims he wants to end the war.

So . . . how does killing Rhea and sparing Edelgard cause the least amount of bloodshed? I knew that's what was going to happen, but it makes no sense. Claude even admitted he knows that Edelgard doesn't give a shit, she wants to conquer Rhea or no Rhea.

I really fail to see how on earth this is ending in 2 chapters. Unless Edelgard is so grateful to Claude she just gives up her ambitions? And Dimitri is equally OOC also suddenly gives a shit about what Claude thinks??

I've actually LOVED how they're written Edelgard and Dimitri in Hopes so far, and if GW ruins that with its shit writing I'm gonna be pissed.

Edelgard better not turn into some soft sissy who is all "oh, you saved me, Claude, now I'm going to play nice and make big eyes at you! Now that Rhea's dead and you did something nice, I'm going to give up the most core part of my character." Double gross if it's implied that she's flustered by his good looks.

And Dimitri better not not be pissed off that Claude invaded him for no reason and be like "You were so right, I wanted Rhea gone this whole time, thank you for saving me from her, please ignore Sylvain stewing in the corner, he'll just get over that you murdered his dad, just like I suddenly don't care how you murdered my citizens!"

If that happens, I'm calling this Claude's bizarre fanfic where he thinks his masterminded Edelgard and Dimitri so hard that now they're both hard for him no matter how OOC that makes them or how stupid Claude's been this whole time.

CAMP/SIDE MAPS

Haha, Shamir doesn't want to help the Empire. She wants revenge against them for the war with Dagda lol.

I don't think Holst has had an interesting thing to say in this entire game.

Oh yeah, I forgot. In GW and SB we're saving Bernie's father and helping him maintain religious power. Only in AG is he the enemy we're replacing. I swear, did nobody look at this and wonder if they made the Blue Lions unambiguously the only good guys?

Haha, right after I wrote this, some NPC was like wtf are we doing putting an Imperial noble in charge of the Monastery and religion?

Meanwhile, Lorenz is like, if we just let Edelgard die, the war ends right. But they must go save her because they're former classmates! For, like, a month! And Claude's like, Dimitri is too. And then crickets. I swear to God GW is borderline self-aware of how reaching and desperate the writing is to have Claude want to join the "I want to suck Edelgard's toes" gang for no logical reason.

Ouch, someone just compared Claude to Hubert. Like, I love Hubert, but he is NOT someone I want to be compared to.

I forget how boring GW is to play. Lorenz takes no damage from anything, so I just mash buttons. He isn't particularly strong either, so he's not nearly as fun to play as Dimitri and Hubert are with their ridiculous strength and magic stats, respectively.

So if I ever replay GW (lol, sure /s), I would def not pick Lorenz again. Lysithea seems like a way more fun character more suited for my play style but she's too far behind with class unlocks and etc . . .

Haha, Shez is like "if I ended up on another side, they would've been suspicious of my powers and thought I was an enemy" - side-eyeing Edelgard and SB.

Lamo, where did Claude get the idea that the church doesn't like people from other places or that aren't religious? Last time I checked, they didn't care?

Lamo, Shez is saying she might just leave Claude when the war ends. Same, Shez, same.

I had to fight Gustave :( And after that Sylvain :(

Guys, I'm feeding Claude recipes he dislikes. I've run out of supports to grind this round so . . .

I did the same to Holst too, because fuck you too, Holst

I'm giving my merc whistle to Lorenz. He basically did everything this route. And ohhhhh, he's right in front of Claude and Hilda too, haha. That means they're going to watch me give Lorenz a present and none for them.

And now to dump every stat boost on Lorenz too. I literally use no one else unless I absolutely have too. Hubert and Dimitri will get the same treatment. Probably also the 2 getting my merc whistle too. Which is hilarious since Hubert is pretty openly hostile to Shez.

SHEZ & CLAUDE A

It's funny. In SB, no one trusts Shez. In GW, Shez doesn't trust Claude. In AG, Shez . . . yep.

Wait, whut? Shez is like "we need to end the church to end the war." And Claude is like "right, because they they can try something again." My brother in Sothis, what the fuck? Did he just forget that Edelgard started the war? Rhea didn't do shit.

Also, didn't Claude say earlier he knows the church is just an excuse for Edelgard to make a land grab? Did he magically forget that?

SHEZ & BALTHUS B

Don't remember if I saw this yet.

Balthus wants to make a bet on battle. Shez doesn't want to.

Balthus likes to live on the edge and adding a bet makes battle more fun. Shez disagrees.

SHEZ & HAPI B

Still don't remember if I saw this or not. But it's another support about Shez's mysterious origins that go absolutely no where.

And I have a strong suspicion that we won't actually learn anything about who Shez really is unless her mom is like Arundel or something.

I think I may have seen this before. But Shez has more than one support like this so . . .

CLAUDE & MARIANNE A

Weird. They only have 1 support and its A.

Marianne gets a letter that implies that he wants Marianne to rule House Edmund and she's intimidated by it.

Claude shares that he worries too.

Claude says Marianne needs more resolve.

Sorry, that was boring as fuck.

CLAUDE & LYSITHEA A

Lysithea has a message from her father, who's taken maybe the worst beating in this game.

Her father doesn't want to complain, but to thank him for ending TWSITD chaos.

Poor House Ordelia really does get the shit end of the stick.

Claude is worry that Lysithea works too hard.

Lysithea doesn't really listen.

CLAUDE & LEONIE B

Their only support.

The crops of the territories that are at war are suffering because armies are trampling fields.

Common people are mad at Claude because of the battle making them starve.

Glad this game is acknowledging, even a little, how it's poor people who get screwed over the most when nobles bicker.

Leonie admits she could care less about this war. Which just make her not being in AG (so far) weirder. Since she's probably one of the one who cares the least.

This is more interesting than I thought it was going to be, because it's about how the commoners suffer in war, and how Claude needs a common born perspective. So that makes Edelgard the only one who never asks common born people what they want - and the one thinking she has the right to decide everything for them.

CLAUDE & CONSTANCE C

Claude is interested in Constance's experiments

Constance invented a spell that can change hair color and style, which Claude wants to use to escape but not to be her first test subject

She gives him a hard and sharp style, like literally - he complains, she's not happy

I don't know if she turned it back or not, if she didn't I'm tempted to not view their B so Claude is stuck with silly, awful hair for his final chapters because then his looks will match his clown behavior

HILDA & IGNATZ B

Hilda doesn't recognize Ignatz without his glasses on. So . . . she's an idiot?

Ignatz is basically blind without glasses, yet forgot where he put them. So . . . he's an idiot too?

Hilda thinks he's hot without his glasses. I . . . question her taste.

IGNATZ & HAPI C

Hapi finds his sketch book and there's a picture of her with cats in there, and she's disturbed that someone drew her without telling her

She figured out that it's him

She's mad he lied, but liked the picture

And . . . the Chicago Carolina game is more entertaining than that was (who may be the 2 worst teams in the NFL, for those who don't know)

SHEZ & IGNATZ A

Aw, that's sweet of Ignatz. He's like, we talk too much about me, talk about you!

And Shez teases him about a crush, lamo.

Shez only has 2 dream options: I don't know or easy going mercenary life

Ignatz asks Shez to be a bodyguard ones he's done being a knight and going after his dreams

Shez says she'll charge a lot lamo

Claude & Constance B

Oh, right, the hair magic stuff.

Constance doesn't appreciate his lack of enthusiasm

She turned his hair frizzy and uneven, lamo - like a bird's nest, and honestly, deserved Claude, you've sucked this route

He has a beard too

LORENZ & IGNATZ A

Their only support, weird.

Lorenz didn't make much of Ignatz when they meant, but now is impressed.

The improvement it because Ignatz is painting in his free time, helping his mental health

Lorenz feels bad because he realizes Ignatz wants to be an artist, not a knight, like he assumed

Ingatz is still grateful towards Lorenz for giving him a purpose after the school closed and he felt directionless

RAPHAEL & MARIANNE B

Bummed they only have 1 support. I like their chain in Houses.

Marianne can't get a horse to the stable bc it's sick (the horse told her, Raphael doesn't seem to care that a horse talked to Marianne)

Raphael offers to get the horse to the stable by putting it in a cart

He lifted it, Marianne is impressed, but now her horse can get the medicine and rest needed

Dumb horse ate bad fruit, honestly, accurate, they're all secretly pigs in horse-shaped bodies

Raphael . . . also eats rotten food. So, I guess Dimitri has competition for who has the most iron stomach

See, this was cute too. Marianne just feels naturally open with him

RAPHAEL & LEONIE A

They're out of arrows and surrounded by wolves

I think Raphael beat them back with her bow

He credits her for making such a strong bow (it didn't break)

So now Leonie will keep making bows until there's one Raphael can't break, and Raphael will keep working on muscles so he can keep breaking them

MARIANNE & YURI B

Oh, God, Yuri's always so mean to people in the beginning of support chains. I wonder how on earth this is going to go . . .

Yuri takes her off guard and asks questions, which just makes her more guarded and feel judged.

Marianne assumes he hates animals and herself. Because she saw Yuri glaring at her once. Girl, you have issues, but I love you.

Understandably, Yuri's a bit confused.

Marianne keeps assuming things are her fault and apologizing, and Yuri keeps getting more and more annoyed until she runs off.

A lot of this support felt pretty random, but let's see where A goes.

MAIN BATTLE

This battle is titled . . . salvation. You know, that may be the most clever bit of writing in GW so far (as in the ONLY clever writing)

Haha, Edelgard is surrounded by the Kingdom and Rhea.

Even Holst is like, are you sure about this Claude?

I really don't understand the logic of rescuing Edelgard if Claud doesn't want war. Like, Claude acknowledged that Edelgard only used Rhea as an excuse for expansionism. He knows she's just going to find another excuse for war, so all he's doing is making her enemies weaker.

Ok, that's enough. I forget that applying any sort of logic to this plot line is pointless.

Cut scene is cool though. Lamo, is this like the 5th time Edelgard needed someone to rescue her in this game? She looked really pathetic in cut scenes in this game. Like, I don't even like her, and I'm annoyed because one of the things I did like was her being a bit of a badass, not always needing saving from Shez, Byleth, from assassins all the time, etc . . .

Guys, there's a save Monica side quest. Should I just . . . not? You know what? I'm going to have fun with this. I want to see what happens.

Fuck, Ingrid appeared :(

And now they want me to save Bernie's dad. This chapter is really "rescue the most fucking annoying characters" and "kill the best ones."

Thank FUCK, she retreated this time. I wouldn't been livid if they made me kill her twice for no reason.

OMG, again, lamo, Edelgard is useless this chapter. She keeps getting caught. That's the 3rd time in 1 chapter she's needed to get her ass saved by Claude and co.

Now I have to fight Dedue :( He's better not fucking die. This route isn't worth it. Edelgard called him Dimitri's most loyal retainer though.

Oh, thank God, he retreated.

Now I'm going to have to fight Dimitri, I'm sure :( I'm really fucking glad Lorenz can't take damage. I'd be shitting myself otherwise. He better retreat too.

Why can't we let Edelgard die, Claude? Wouldn't that fix all the problems?

Oh, Rhea! Fighting Rhea will actually be a little cool, since you never get to see her or use her.

Dimitri retreated at least.

WTF Claude? "I'm just determined to see what the world would look like without you." Idk, maybe Almyra??? The writers really gave Claude nothing with that line lamo.

Took Rhea out. She retreated too.

Now Byleth is here and I think she's dying for good this time. Feel a bit bad about not recruiting her. Claude doesn't deserve Byleth's support on this route, but she doesn't deserve to die either.

Cut scene time. I wonder what's considered more cannon, recruiting Byleth or not?

Also, isn't it thematic that you kill Sothis on routes where you oppose Rhea and side with Edelgard?

Arval's way too happy about this, lamo. Shez is bummed. Honestly, I think I ship Shez with Byleth the most.

Edelgard was so lame this chapter.

Claude tries rubbing it in Edelgard's face that she owes him, and she threatens not to honor the debt. Like, Claude, my boy, if this person is willing to turn on you because you teased her . . . that isn't an ally you want, but whatever.

Claude is like, can we not destroy Faergus. Edelgard's like, no.

"We never spared a thought for Dimitri's motivation." Uh, how about "stop killing my people you bloodthirsty idiots." Also, not surprised. These two really are idiots. They can't fathom why Dimitri's . . . defending himself.

Claude sounds so pathetic in this chapter. He's like, sooooo desperate to be like, remember I did you a favor, Edelgard, remember! Like she gives a single shit, lamo.

#golden wildfire #fire emblem #fire emblem three hopes #three hopes #three hopes spoilers #golden wildfire spoilers

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readingoals · 1 year

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It's pride month so ofc I have to post about being aromantic lmao. Although I actually read this book last month - I'd had it on preorder since the beginning of the year. I'll put my review under the cut for length

Aro And Ace Journeys is, I think, a good entry into understanding the aromantic and asexual spectrums.

I've been identifying as aro for around 5 years now (and as ace-spec for like a few months) so a lot of what was in this book was not new information to me. But it was interesting. The section on history of ace and aro terms was especially interesting for me, and I really liked the way the books was sectioned into different phases of understanding and accepting an ace or aro identity. It made it feel very approachable, no matter what stage in their journey the reader is in.

Some of the latter sections that revolved around coming out and examining what sort of futures exist for ace and aro folks felt especially relevant to me since I have been identifying as aro and ace-spec for so long, but there were definitely other parts that were just very validating to read and really helped confirm some of my feelings about my identity. I did find parts a little repetitive but I think that's natural for a book trying to cover all the basics for anyone starting at the very beginning.

It does go into some discussion about how an ace or aro identity might intersect with other queer identities, race, religion, etc. I think there was some really valuable points made but a lot of those discussions were fairly brief due to the nature of the book. So if more detailed discussions about that sort of thing is what you're looking for, this may not be the book for you.

Otherwise, I'd definitely recommend it. Especially to anyone who is questioning if they might be aro and ace-spec, or for allo folks who just want to learn a little more. People more familiar with the aro and/or ace communities may not get as much out of it but I don't think the experience of reading about people with similar experiences can be underestimated. Especially with lesser known/talked about identities like those on the ace and aro spectrums. It's just really nice to see physical confirmation that you aren't alone. There is also a very thorough glossary at the back, further resources like links to useful websites and other books (both fiction and non-fiction), as well as a couple of amusing 'coming out bingo cards' which defs gave me a good chuckle.

I have another book on pre-order which is specifically about being aromantic. It's due to be released at the end of July so look out for my review of it in a couple of months lmao. I'd curious to see how it will compare with this one.

#booklr #ace and aro journeys #the ace and aro advocacy project #non fiction #brigid speaks #read in 2023 #book update #queer lit #lgbtqia+#aromantic #asexual

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dragontamerno3 · 28 days

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DS9 S1 E20 - In The Hands Of The Prophets

Soooooooooooo.... I finished S1. And I officially hate Space Karen.

I want to get this out of the way so I hopefully never have to say it again because praising this character hurts me deep in my religiously traumatized soul (lol), but she is *really* good. I mean, of course she was going to be well played given the actress who plays her (RIP Louise Fletcher), but she's so fucking good at how evil she actually is. We're meant to hate her, I get that. But the writing and acting is phenomenal when it comes to this level of religious bigotry and scheming.

I have seen actual people IRL that were just a couple steps down the ladder from being pure fanatics to this dangerous level and the shit they've said in some cases were almost word for word how she spun in.

We started out the episode though with a fun note on Keiko joking with Miles and clearly hinting at something that is probably just supposed to be her playing at being jealous but definitely reads as swinger language to me. Which, from what I've gathered DS9 is one big polyam fam so I may be picking up on those vibes.

Which, I'm kinda sad Neela was the traitor here. I called it when the tool was discovered missing though "it" hadn't been revealed to be secret traitor levels yet and I just assumed she used the tool for some reason. I still knew it was her and when the episode went on and murder turned into potential terrorism I was just... bummed. She seemed to truly be getting alone with Miles and the scene in the shuttle def added to my polyam/swinger thoughts, but she really seemed to actually care for him. This didn't take away from my... enjoyment, can one really call it that when one is also seething? Anyway, it didn't take anything away from the episode from me, if fact it kinda made it feel a bit more realistic cause I have absolutely lost people I cared about because of religion. It just sucked.

Then Winn shows up at the school to talk religious nonsense and the "real" trouble starts. Oh I hate that woman.

And then Kira backing Winn? I know she's also got her own spiritual beliefs and journey but that felt... a bit much? Not aligned with who she had been up to this point? Not the teaching the kids part but the "lets separate everyone" idea. It definitely threw me out of the scene for a bit. I accept it, though, based on the very end of the episode where she explained that she hoped her beliefs were as strong as Winn's, but this was the one bit of writing that I disagreed with. If something has to wait to the end to be explained like this, it could use some fixing.

Quark and Odo meeting in secret to talk about a case seems to me like the writers were trying make up an excuse to get them alone together....

Watching Winn turn all the parents and kids against Keiko was frustrating. The Bajorian food seller not selling to them because of this wasn't so much upsetting as it just made me roll my eyes, but I adore Miles for wanting to jump the counter for his wifes honor lol

When the school blew and Miles ran towards it? And then Odo had to hold him back so he didn't jump into the fire? My heart. It was such a good scene.

I think my favorite part of this episode was Siskos speech. The "You've just made your first mistake" speech. I'm being a bit egotistical for this bit, though. I love it cause these are the same exact speeches I like to make in my ttrpgs. The "You think you've won but really you've severally underestimated us and we're going to ruin you now" speeches are my fucking favorite and I live for them. Sisko wins the gold star for this one.

8.75/10 cause I couldn't decide if I wanted to rate this one a 9 or an 8.5 so split the difference lmao

#star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #watchalong #star trek deep space nine #space karen #ds9 winn #I hate her so much #fuck winn #in the hands of the prophets

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gothcsz · 9 days

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𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIIII.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: After months of dancing around their emotions, Javier and Paloma finally address the tension between them head-on.

WORD COUNT: ~9.2k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: smuttt, bulge riding, dry humping, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being an asshole, angst, crime talk (if it's not accurate don't @ me), descriptions of violence against women, vomit mention, slut shaming(?), detective!javi is very gorgeous ME, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: we did it… we did it joe !! javi and OFC finally [REDACTED] !! thank u to everyone who has been keepin up w this foolery so far, it makes my lil heart happy to see engagement < 3 also wanna say that years of watching criminal minds is finally starting to pay off and i rly hope u guys are enjoying the crime aspect of the plot because i'm havin A LOT of fun writing and developing it !! shit is gonna get twisted and intricate so brace yourselves for where we're about to go !!! the smut in this chapter is heavily inspired by touch it by ariana grande so i def recommend giving that a listen bc i feel like it just fits their vibe so well (i may or may not have used some of the lyrics in the dialogue.. oop!) last thing sooo irrelevant but mayor abbott looks like jonathan bailey (bridgerton hive RISE!!) in my head so take that as u will xoxo always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

As the sun casts its golden rays over the quiet outskirts of town, a grim discovery awaits the two men. The body of Jessica Valdez, the young girl reported missing from their neighboring town, lies lifeless in a shallow ditch. Javier stands beside Sheriff Leighton, their expressions grave as they survey the scene before them.

Reporters and curious onlookers have gathered, drawn by the spectacle of flashing lights and the somber atmosphere. A small group of people whisper amongst themselves, their hushed tones mingling with the distant sound of camera shutters clicking.

Romeo's authoritative presence looms beside him, a pillar of strength in the face of another tragedy. His eyes narrow as they push through the gathered crowd, commanding respect and order in the chaotic scene.

They duck beneath the yellow crime scene tape, ignoring the questions being hurled at them by the press.

“Are there any indications of a motive for this murder? “

“Is this connected to the similar incidents in the area recently?”

“Is there anything the public can do to assist with the investigation?”

Javier's stomach churns with sorrow as he takes in the sight. The body lies face down and sprawled in the dirt. He clenches his jaw, steeling himself against the wave of frustration threatening to overwhelm him.

Another failure on their behalf and all he can think about is the kiss shared between him and Paloma.

“ Talk to us, Cecelia. “

“ Well, at first glance: the body is still fairly warm so she was alive a few hours ago. It looks like she was held captive somewhere due to the bruising on her wrists and ankles. There are signs of malnourishment and she has smaller injuries scattered throughout her body. I won't know more details until I do the autopsy. “ The coroner answers before continuing, “ Her chest is completely slashed through, just like all the others. Still our guy. Or girl–– you never know nowadays. “

Javier's jaw flexes out of exasperation, mirroring the heavy sigh that escapes the sheriff's lips. The weight of this repeated revelation settles over them like a suffocating blanket, casting a shadow over their efforts to uncover the truth.

Despite their tireless pursuit of justice, they find themselves no closer to catching the culprit or unraveling the mystery shrouding these towns. It's fucking infuriating.

Amidst the tangled threads of his personal life, Javier has momentarily lost sight of his purpose for being here. He has been too immersed in his own character transformation and entanglement with Paloma, overlooking the harrowing reality unfolding around him: innocent women continuing to fall victim to brutal, senseless violence.

The gravity of his oversight has a mixture of guilt and despair settling deep within his chest.

Javier prides himself on his prowess, his ability to navigate the most intricate of cases and weather the toughest of storms. As a seasoned field agent with a string of accolades to his name (some undeserved, others very well deserved), he's faced down challenges that would make others quiver.

Yet here he stands, feeling utterly impotent in the face of this whodunit in the confines of a sleepy town.

It gnaws at him, this sense of inadequacy, like a persistent itch he can't scratch. It's a bitter pill to swallow, a humbling reminder of the unpredictable nature of crime and the limits of his own expertise.

He needs to be better.

“ What's interestin', though, is this, “ She stands, motioning for the two men to follow her and they share a look before wordlessly complying. Cecelia hands them both a pair of latex gloves, instructing them to put them on.

They make it a few feet away from Jessica's body and that's when Javi sees it.

“ Is that vomit? “

Cecelia nods, “ It is. I'm betting it's hers. The interestin' bit isn't that she vomited–– but the contents. Take a look. Tell me what you see. “

Javier is the first to kneel with Romeo looking over his shoulder. He eyes the evidence, pushing his aviators to the top of his head, making out the larger chunks in the grossly colored bile.

He can't discern what it is right away and Cecelia encourages him to use his hands, which has him looking at her ludicrously and muttering how gross this shit is in Spanish before doing as suggested.

Poking his latex clad fingers in the mess, Javi analyzes the contents and that's when he sees a symbol marked in ink on one of the scraps.

“ It's flesh. Human flesh. “

Shit . He sees it now, the mark is a tattoo and he quickly barks out an order to have one of the lingering deputies come take pictures of it.

“ Son of a bitch is feedin' people… people. Would explain Nina Thorton's missin' leg. What the fuck is goin' on here? “ The sheriff sounds defeated and Javier just remains silent as he mulls over all this new information that's been revealed.

Kidnapped, held hostage, fed human flesh, murdered, dumped.

All the other victims up until now have only been taken then killed. None of them held captive for long. Not all of them consuming flesh.

But then there's Nina and her postmortem severed leg.

Fuck, the answer is right there, interwoven in the intricacies and lack of details in the cases.

No more fucking around, no more helping girls sneak back inside their homes, no more distractions. He has to focus on doing his job.

He will catch who did this, he will prove himself to be qualified to do what he was brought here to do.

Javier remains kneeled and deep in thought as Romeo and Cecelia continue on with their observations. He looks around to study their surroundings, wondering if there is anything else that is right in front of him that he cannot see.

“ Three outta five have been brunettes around the same age. I think that's something worth considering now, “ Javier breaks up the conversation betweens the sheriff and coroner, both of them turning to look at him as he stands from his kneeled position and begins to take off the gloves, “ Seems like they found their type. There's got to be a purpose for the consistent victimology. “

They've migrated over to Jessica's body now, both men doing last minute look overs before she is transported back to her hometown for her parents to identify and for Cecelia to preform the autopsy.

When a deputy comes over to take the last bits of photo evidence, he looks sickly but Javier ignores it. It's not until her body is turned upright, exposing her mauled chest, that has the younger officer hurling over and throwing up, some of it landing on Romeo.

“ God fuckin' damn it, Andrews, spew that shit elsewhere. Fuck, not only are you contaminatin' the crime scene but you got it all over my damn pants. “

The sheriff goes on a tangent, chewing the officer out and threatening to suspend him for two weeks with no pay. It's harsh, Javier will admit, but he doesn't say anything, remaining stoic with his arms crossed against his chest as he watches it unfold.

Eventually, every one trickles out. Even the nosey reporters and townies. Javier wants to stay, walk around the surrounding area to see if anything else was left behind. Maybe something was dropped or buried nearby, and while they had assured him that others have already done a thorough search–– he'd feel more comfortable if he did it himself.

“ Ya mind stoppin' by my place so I can change? Kid ruined these. “ Romeo's gruff voice has Javier losing his train of thought, too engrossed in looking out into the vast area of the woods around them as the sun slowly begins to set.

Right, they arrived together, driving from the station in Javier's cruiser.

“ Sure. “ He replies plainly. His plans for the evening now include getting Romeo situated so that he can come back here and investigate all on his own. He might even drive to Fayette to retrieve the autopsy from Cecelia as soon as she completes it.

With the Leighton home being on the other side of town, this gives the two men time to talk the case over; going over all that they know and all that they've discovered. Romeo confides in Javier about feeling inadequate about the way he's doing his job and, in a turn of events, Javier does the same. In his own way.

The mutual understanding is a relief, though the guilt of his kiss with Paloma is palpable and it makes Javi feel like a fraud.

Across from him is a man who has extended nothing but kindness and trust, offering camaraderie and a sense of belonging. Yet, despite this, Javier found himself drawn to his daughter in a way that felt both exhilarating and forbidden.

It feels wrong, achingly so. A bitter realization that despite their mutual longing, their connection can never be fully realized. It's a harsh wake up call: if he truly wants to better himself, he must shed his bad habit of losing himself in women and distance himself from her.

What a discomforting prospect, the inevitable separation. But he knows it's the only way forward. He understands that in time, they will both resign themselves to the reality of their infatuation.

It's a familiar ache, this sense of inevitability that haunts his romantic endeavors like a relentless specter. Javier knows the drill all too well; it's not his first rodeo in navigating the treacherous terrain of severing emotional ties.

His love life feels like a series of missteps, a cursed labyrinth from which there's no escape. Despite the initial allure of each new romance, he's come to anticipate the eventual descent into disappointment. No matter how promising the beginning, the journey always seems to lead to the same desolate destination.

With him pushing them away. Or worse— hurting them beyond measure.

Fuck the idea of reinventing himself here. He can find peace and monotony anywhere else.

Javier will follow through with his responsibilities, and the second he's able to peel out of Seminary–– he will, leaving her behind as a bittersweet memory. A beautiful yet unattainable dream that he will carry with him for years to come.

As they pull in to the Leighton residence, he sees the woman that lives in his head perched up on the fence that surrounds the immediate area. Her baggy jeans are hanging low, exposing the sheer fabric of her underwear. She turns as she hears the sound of a car approaching, and her lips pull into a smile once she sees who it is.

Paloma fully expected to wake up the following day filled with regret and plagued by a hangover. The only thing she experienced was the latter, but it had quickly been nursed by a greasy breakfast and some yard work.

Javier had kissed her back, that was enough to feed into her delusions that he does want her. All inhibitions have been dropped, she's prepared to lay herself out for him–– to tell him that she's wanted him since the moment they met.

It might seem premature, an impulsive plunge into the uncertainty of his reaction to her feelings, but the tender memory of their shared kiss eclipses all rational thought. She finds herself irresistibly drawn to the possibility of something more, unable to resist the pull of her emotions.

His touch still lingers on her skin. His hands tracing the curves of her body with a hunger that left her breathless. She can still feel the way he had grabbed her ass then gripped onto her hips, pulling her closer to him.

But it was his mouth that left the strongest impression. His tongue had explored the depths of hers, tasting and teasing her with a ferocity that made her feel alive.

In that moment, she had felt desired, cherished, and wanted. It was a feeling that she hadn't realized she craved so badly until last night. She knew that she would never be able to forget that kiss and the way it had made her feel.

She's giddy, her excitement bubbling up like fizzy soda, reminiscent of the first time she ever kissed a boy. Except Javier isn't a boy–– he's a man. A man whose expertise and skill are a potent aphrodisiac, heightening her arousal to levels she never thought possible.

She's been hot for him all day, even touched herself to the memory of his soft lips, the tickle of his mustache, against hers then imagining them everywhere else. The mere thought of it is enough to send her heart racing, and she knows that nothing will satisfy her until she has him in her arms again.

Romeo gets out the car, muttering that he'd be right back and Javi opts to stay put. He does not want to speak to her, knowing that the second he gazes into those beautiful brown eyes–– he'd buckle. He needs to build animosity between them; it's the only way for them to definitively be able to separate from one another.

But she doesn't make it easy, of course. Because the second her father is inside, she's practically skipping over to the driver's side of the cruiser.

“ Hello officer. Here to bring me in for all those crimes I committed last night? “ She teases as she leans her forearms against the rolled down window, the cowgirl hat perched on her head complimenting her so well.

Javier swallows thickly, taking a lengthy drag of the familiar cigarette between his lips. He can't outright ignore her so he decides to be short instead.

“ M'not here for games, Paloma. “

She's taken aback by his tone, her smile faltering.

“ Well excuse me for tryin' to make conversation. Wasn't aware that you're in a mood today. “

There's a pause despite her attempt to add a teasing tone to her words to lighten him up. It falls flat.

“ I'm not looking to have a conversation. You can go. “

Her brows cinch together at his dismissal, this is not how she was expecting for this to go.

“ What's goin on'? Is this because we… because of the kiss last night? “ She lowers her voice towards the end, red blooming across her cheeks but she keeps her composure.

“ Jesus, “ Javier chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head. It sends a sharp pang through her heart. “ Why do you always think that's the fuckin' problem whenever I don't want to talk to you? For someone who claims to be a grown woman all the time, you sure as shit don't act like it. “

She stills, the buoyant confidence that had propelled her toward him evaporating in an instant, replaced by a wave of hurt at his unexpected chilliness. What has gotten into him?

“ Drop it and move on, Paloma. We just found Jessica Valdez's body dumped out in a ditch. S'not the time to be hung up on a damn kiss. “

The sound of the screen door shutting close breaks her away from him and the trance she'd seemingly gone into. Another victim, another tragedy to confront… and here she is acting like a smitten teenaged girl.

The urge to cower and crawl into herself, to surrender to the overwhelming embarrassment and sorrow, threatens to engulf her entirely. She remains silent, fighting back the surge of frustrated, angry tears as she pushes off the car and trudges wearily back toward the house.

Javier exhales heavily once she strides away without a word, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders. He had braced himself for a snide remark or some form of verbal retaliation, but her silent departure was far more impactful.

“ I'll be home late. Don't wait up. “ Her father murmurs as he passes her, planting a tender kiss atop her head. He lingers there for a moment but she doesn't question it, knowing it's because of what they found today and she doesn't even mind that he hasn't told her about it.

As he breaks away, she conjures up a semblance of a genuine smile, masking the turmoil within, and nods before he affectionately pinches her nose and continues on his way.

She doesn't look back, she doesn't cry or go inside–– instead she picks up her discarded gardening gloves and proceeds to channel her energy into the simple act of mowing the grass.

She finds herself alone at the open bar as the party continues in full swing. It's been days since Jessica's death, and the tense conversation she had with Javier still lingers in her mind.

“ Drop it and move on, Paloma. “

Unlike the last time they went without speaking, there is much more tension between them now. The worst part about it is having to act as if nothing is wrong in the presence of her father.

No daddy, everything's fine! It's not like I threw myself at your co-worker not once, but twice and both times he made me feel like a fucking idiot!

She lets out a disdainful sigh, her fingers curling around the glass containing her coveted cherry root beer since she's decided to part ways with alcohol and any other substance for the time being.

The two men are busy mingling with other guests and have been since the moment they arrived. Despite her efforts to divert her gaze elsewhere, her eyes keep involuntarily drifting towards Javier's broad figure.

The event had called for formal attire, so when he strode in wearing a meticulously tailored all-black suit, her breath caught in her throat. The sharp lines of his outfit, coupled with the crispness of his button-down and the matching tie, made her momentarily forget why she was so upset with him. He looked too damn handsome.

It's brutal how the things we desire most often seem to radiate the brightest when they're just out of reach.

Observing him mingle effortlessly with others is entertaining. Contrary to her expectations, he appears completely at ease in this bustling social setting, a far cry from the disdain he expressed for large gatherings that morning in his kitchen.

He's acting a lot more extroverted and… smile-y. It pisses her off as much as it melts her heart.

They make their way over to her and she makes a point to not even look in his direction. She's now caught between her father and Javier as they order another round of drinks.

It really doesn't help that she's now standing shoulder to shoulder with him. The heady aroma of his cologne, laced with the familiar tang of cigarette smoke and the faint hint of whiskey, envelops her senses, making it impossible to outright ignore him.

Javier Peña is like a blazing beacon and she's the foolish moth drawn inexplicably closer to his flame. But she knows all too well the danger of getting too close, like a moth singed by the heat, the allure of his brightness can be killer.

Javier had assumed that with news of Jessica being found dead, their attendance to this party wouldn't be mandatory.

Well, he thought wrong. It is a cruel reminder of how life goes on, even when tragedy strikes.

Another dead girl, another over-the-top party.

Which is why he'll give it an hour–– tops–– to shake whoever's hand and meet whoever else, then he'd leave. It's a simple plan, the only thing making it difficult for him is his proximity to the woman he’s desperately trying to cut ties with.

She looks so beautiful tonight, donning a calf length simple black dress that hugs all her curves just right.

“ There they are! My Law and Order! Y’all keepin’ the townsfolk in line? “ The boastful voice of Mayor Jonah Abbott draws near and Javier suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

Foolish of him to think he wouldn’t have to interact with the titular birthday boy tonight.

He greets both men with a firm handshake, and when his attention turns to her; Javier has to drown the subtle spark of frustration with his drink at the way his eyes rake over her body.

“ And of course, Miss. Paloma. They say a smile is worth a thousand words, but yours? It's worth a million dreams. “ He brings her hand up to his lips to plant a kiss against her knuckles and all she does is offer him a polite smile. Here we go…

“ Mr. Abbott— “

“ Jonah, sweetheart. Been tellin’ you to call me that for years now. “

Her smile threatens to twitch out of annoyance, “ Jonah. Happy Birthday. Thank you for invitin' us to your home. “

“ Always a pleasure to have you 'round. I heard about your performance up in Dallas. Shame I missed it. Woulda loved to hear that beautiful voice of yours and seen you up on that stage. “

Javier can't help the subtle grunt he emits at the mayor's overt flirtation, causing for her to just briefly glance up at him with a bemused flash crossing her stare.

The familiarity of Jonah's behavior strikes a chord within him. Once upon a time, Javier was just like this–– an arrogant charmer with a penchant for flirting with anything in a skirt. Standing here amidst the other man's smooth talk, he sees through the facade with clarity born of experience.

It's a performance, an act to charm his way in between Paloma's legs, though Javi can clearly see that she's not falling for it. Does Romeo notice it too, he wonders? Or is he blinded by the mayor's charisma, unable to see that this man clearly wants to sleep with his daughter.

Then again, Javier's opinion on this is irrelevant and invalid since he too has been in the same predicament since meeting her. At least he didn't do it blatantly in front of the sheriff's face.

Or, in a turn of events, perhaps Romeo doesn't give a damn. Jonah Abbott presents himself as a viable candidate to be with his daughter; a young politician with deep pockets and a keen interest in her.

Javier can't shake off the mental picture of the man’s wedding ring adorning her finger, of her transforming into the perfect, submissive wife, tending to the household and filling this place with snot nosed kids. But such a scenario doesn't align with her fiery and headstrong nature. She's far too independent and spirited to succumb to the confines of domesticity, particularly for a man like Jonah.

Then again, why the fuck does he care?

“ Well as you know, I do two shows every weekend at The Whiskey Fox. Could always stop by and see me and the band. “

“ A busy man like myself always has a full schedule. Though I reckon I should make some time to be out in the community. Wouldn’t hurt to stop by for dinner and a show. “

He winks at her and of course he does it when her father turns to order himself another drink. Javier's jaw flinches.

“ Now Romeo, why have you been keepin' this badass motherfucker hidden from me? I knew we had someone new joinin' the force but I didn’t think it’d be the Javier Peña. A goddamn American hero— right here in Seminary, Texas! “

As Jonah begins his praises, pairing them with a harsh slap to his shoulder, Javier remains cool and calculating. He refuses to be swayed by empty compliments.

Meanwhile, she breathes a silent sigh of relief as the spotlight shifts away from her, and she finds it amusing at how everyone seems to talk about Javier.

A hero. A true patriot. Such a brave soul for fightin' the war on drugs on Uncle Sam's behalf.

If only they knew the truth––if they had even a glimpse of the darkness he's had to face, they wouldn't be so quick to idolize him.

The label of hero, bestowed upon him since the demise of Escobar, sits uneasily on his shoulders. The adulation feels like a burden he never asked for, a title he never wanted. It's a reminder of the complexities of his past, the mistakes he's made, and the ghosts that continue to haunt him. Javi despises the word, resenting the way it overshadows his true self and the countless sins he harbors in silence.

“ Gotta keep 'em humble. Keeps the head on straight. “ Romeo banters back, pulling one of those haughty, rich men laughs from the mayor.

She cringes at the pretentiousness echoing in the air.

The men break out into small talk leaving her feeling awkward as she swirls the almost fully melted ice around the empty cup. It’s not until Jonah is getting ready to move on to a new set of guests that the attention is turned back to her.

“ And you, pretty girl, owe me a song. Specifically that one Linda Ronstadt song from the Fourth of July barbecue last year. Remember? S’only fair… consider it a birthday gift from you to me. “

Despite her inner discomfort, she maintains a face of cheerfulness, though her stomach sinks with apprehension at his request. Memories of the barbecue flood her mind, vivid recollections of his relentless pursuit despite her repeated, albeit polite, refusals.

The word 'no' is on the tip of her tongue, but knowing all too well the persistence he's exhibited before; she succumbs to the weight of the occasion—his birthday—and the anticipation in his eyes.

“ Blue Bayou, I remember. Does the band know it? “ She inquires, her gaze flickering towards the live band stationed near the open area of the dance floor where a throng of people sway to the music.

She’s secretly hoping that they don’t, but the song is very popular so her hope dwindles.

“ If they don't, they will. I'll introduce you when it's time. “

With a tight and forced smile gracing her lips, she simply replies, “ Okay, “ accompanied by a subtle nod. His wicked grin spreads larger, almost daring Javier to react by punching him square in the jaw.

Regardless of how he feels towards her and their situation, it irks him to no end how this man blatantly disregards her boundaries.

Her body language screams apprehension, evident to anyone observant enough. However, Mayor Abbott is too fixated on persuading her to comply with his wishes to take notice. It's apparent that he's not accustomed to hearing the word 'no'.

Javi just holds his tongue, an insult threatening to slip out, as he finishes his drink with a practiced air of nonchalance.

The mayor finally says his goodbyes before walking away and her shoulders drop instantly.

“ Guess I owe ya twenty bucks. “ Romeo mutters, digging into his suit pocket for his wallet.

The laugh she gives, though slight, simultaneously soothes and torments his heart.

Damn it all— this is going to be torture but he must endure.

“ She bet that he was gonna pull somethin' like this before leavin' the house. I was dumb enough to think he wouldn’t. “ He explains to Javier as he slips his daughter the twenty dollar bill which she slyly stuffs under the fabric of her dress by her chest.

The action, seemingly simple, is so hot to him.

“ How many times do I have to say m'not a damn show pony that does tricks whenever it’s asked? He’s so lucky that I'm polite and that it’s his birthday— If not I woulda told him to shove it—- “ She doesn’t finish her sentence as they’re approached by a group of people that she doesn’t recognize nor care for.

She feels like an afterthought as they bombard the men with questions about the recent cases and other related topics, so she takes that as her cue to leave, ordering another mocktail before slipping away towards the dance floor.

She is fully prepared to turn her brain off to enjoy some semblance of normalcy before she's thrown back in to the confusing pit that is her current status with the former DEA agent.

Attempting to convince herself that she's enjoying the moment, she sways to the lively rhythm of the music, lost in her own solitary dance. A few partygoers approach her asking for a dance which she declines; peeved by all the unwanted attention she's getting.

This isn't even her party. She holds no merit here.

Javier only catches glimpses of her from his peripheral, engrossed in a conversation with a man who remembers him from his sheriff days in Laredo, before he left for Colombia. The discourse drones on, punctuated by forced laughter and idle pleasantries. Each word falls flat, devoid of substance, yet Javier remains steadfast. Anything to keep him and his mind away from her.

Suddenly, the screeching sound of microphone feedback reverberates off the opulent walls of the ballroom-style venue and she winces at noise.

“ Excuse me, sorry–– I'm not very good with these things. “ The man of the hour apologizes, his voice crackling through the speakers. She inwardly curses, anticipating what's to come next. Setting her now-empty glass down on one of the nearby tables, she smooths her hands along the velvety fabric of her dress, ironing out any wrinkles, and hastily fixes her hair as best as she can without a mirror.

With a deep breath, she pushes down her nerves, summoning a smile to face the adversity when he introduces her. She steps onto the stage, the room erupting into scattered applause as she approaches the microphone.

♫

Midway through the song, to her surprise, Jonah joins her on stage, transforming the solo performance into an unexpected duet. Despite her inner discomfort, Paloma maintains a composed expression and tries to conceal any hint of surprise in her body language as he draws nearer.

Her unease heightens when he pulls her close against him, the heat of his body against hers as they sway to the rhythm of the music during the instrumental interlude of the country song. She reluctantly complies, her compliance more a result of avoidance of potential consequences than genuine willingness to dance with him.

The sight of his possessive grip on her waist, pulling her into an unwelcome dance, ignites a surge of vexation within Javier. He feels the tension in his muscles coil tighter with each step they take, their bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. It's unbearable to watch, the image of Paloma in Jonah's arms twisting like a knife in his gut.

Without a word, Javier makes his escape, his strides purposeful as he navigates through the crowded room. He mutters a vague excuse to Romeo, the urgency in his voice betraying his need to flee from the suffocating scene unfolding before him.

Finally stepping out into the cooler night air, Javier takes a deep breath to soothe his frazzled nerves. He makes his way towards a gazebo that's right by the large pond, putting as much distance as he can between himself and the party inside.

Leaning against the railing of the structure, he retrieves his trusty pack of cigarettes from his pocket, hands trembling slightly as he lights one. Each drag offers a fleeting moment of respite from the turmoil brewing inside him.

Inside, the song ends and she wastes no time in descending the stage, a sense of urgency propelling her movements. She refuses to linger, her mind consumed with the dread of another unwanted encounter with the mayor. Surveying the crowded room, she searches in vain for her father or Javier, but they're nowhere to be found amidst the sea of faces.

Determined to escape the party atmosphere, Paloma makes a beeline for the exit, craving the solace of the summer night air. Stepping out onto the porch, she inhales deeply, the breeze offering a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the event.

The night is alive with subtle sounds—toads croaking in the distance, the distant murmur of conversation—but it's the solitary figure in the distance that captures her attention. With a sense of inevitability, Paloma finds herself drawn towards the silhouette, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she descends the steps leading to the gazebo.

When she approaches, Javier remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the tranquil expanse of water before him. The rhythmic puff of his cigarette punctuates the silence, a tangible barrier between them. Despite the tension hanging in the air, Paloma presses forward, her resolve unyielding as she closes the distance between them.

“ We need to talk. “

He stands like a statue, the weight of her words are heavy, yet he remains resolute in his silence, hoping that she'll simply give up and leave him be. But Paloma is nothing if not persistent, her frustration bubbling over as she confronts him.

“ Fuck, Javier will you at least look at me?! Acknowledge that I'm standin' here tryin' to speak with you?! “ Her voice crackles with pent-up emotion, her southern accent deep as each word is laden with an intensity that he can't ignore.

Reluctantly, he turns his head slightly, his gaze skimming over her figure with resignation. It's a small concession, but it's enough to stoke the fire of her frustration to new heights.

“ I dunno why you've decided to be such a jerk to me all of the sudden, “ she continues, her tone laced with a raw edge of hurt and confusion. “ You're tellin' me that I'm bein' childish a-and that I need to move on from the kiss but we both know it's so much bigger than that. We've been dancin' around it since the moment we met and I'm tired of pretendin' like I don't want you. “

His eyes close briefly, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he retreats behind his stoic facade once more. His fingers find their way to the bridge of his nose, pinching tightly as he struggles to find the right words to respond. But before he can form a coherent thought, she presses on, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

“ I told myself I wouldn't care if you didn't feel the same way, “ She admits, her voice growing softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. “ But that was before I got to know you. Before you somehow wriggled your way into my heart and overtook my mind entirely. We became friends, and I-I didn't want to screw that up. But then we kissed, and in that moment, I knew you wanted me just as badly… “

She draws closer, her hand reaching out tentatively to rest on his shoulder, the touch sending a jolt of tension coursing through his body. It's a silent plea, a manifestation of her vulnerability, and it's all he can do to keep his composure still as her words wash over him like a tidal wave.

“ Every time I see you I don't want to behave, Javi. I'm tired of being patient, so let's pick up the pace and finally give in. “

He flicks his finished cigarette out into the water, the ember trailing like a shooting star before disappearing into the dark abyss below.

Slowly, he turns to face her fully, the summer air crackling with tension as he takes in her determined stance. His hand shoots out, grabbing hold of the wrist that had just been resting on him, his dark eyes boring into hers in an act of intimidation.

But Paloma doesn't back down, her gaze unwavering as she meets his stare head-on. Instead, she brings her free hand up to rest against his chest, the heat of her touch seeping through the fabric of his shirt as she steps closer, closing the gap between them until his dress shoes are toe-to-toe with her pointed heels.

He doesn't make an effort to step away or decline her advances, his resolve crumbling in the face of her determination. Her words have jumbled him up completely, the sudden revelation of her feelings catching him off guard and leaving him reeling. The direct mention of what they've been indulging in for the past few months digs into his achilles' heel—his tendency to fall in love in the damndest of times.

He stares down into her eyes, a storm of conflicting emotions raging wildly. The lust swirling in her gaze stirs something primal and raw within him. Any rational part of his brain seems to shut down in that moment, his thoughts consumed by the overwhelming desire to kiss her again, to lose himself in the exhilarating whirlwind of emotions that she evokes from him.

“ It's obviously insane, m'not a fucking idiot I understand the repercussions…. but we both know what we want, so why don't we…” She whispers, tilting her head up until their lips brush against one another.

“ Why don't we fall in love? “

It's not clear who makes the first move, but their lips are interlocked in a passionate kiss—a fierce collision of desire and pent-up longing that surpasses the one they had previously shared. Paloma's hand on his chest clenches the fabric of his shirt while Javier relinquishes his grip on her wrist, his own hands rising to cradle her jaw in his palms.

The taste of the lingering cigarette smoke mingles with the faint bitterness of alcohol on his breath, a heady combination that heightens her desire. She moans softly into his mouth, her tongue intertwining with his in a desperate attempt to savor every fleeting moment before it inevitably slips away.

Javier, consumed by the intoxicating sensation, slowly walks her back until her back is against the sturdy pillar of the gazebo, his movements now possessive and urgent. He deepens the kiss, molding his body against hers as if to merge their souls into one.

Her touch is addicting, a bittersweet symphony that resonates in the depths of his bones. Despite the warnings screaming in the recesses of his mind, urging him to stop and pull away, he finds himself unable to resist the magnetic pull she exerts over him.

Breaking the kiss, Javier's lips trail down the side of her mouth, blazing a trail of heated kisses along her jawline before descending to her neck. His teeth graze her delicate skin, resisting the urge to leave a trail of marks in their wake as his tongue traces a path along her neck and up to her earlobe, where he bites down gently.

“ Is this what you wanted, nena? For me to shower you in my fucking attention? “ He husks, his voice thick with desire and a hint of frustration. His words swim between them, a question laced with layers of longing and palpable need, as he continues to lavish attention upon her neck, each kiss and caress fueling the flames of their mutual desire.

Paloma just whines, arching herself into him as her thighs rub together to relieve the tension of arousal that is assaulting her core.

“ Yes, Javi, that's all I want. I want you to talk to me, to touch me, to make me feel good. “

Her hands are now against his broad shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit jacket as she feels the muscles beneath tense at her touch. A low, guttural groan escapes his lips in response to her words, a primal sound that sends shivers down her spine.

“ I can make you feel good, hermosa. Better than any fucking culero (asshole) in this town. “ He murmurs, his voice dripping with possessiveness. With deliberate intent, Javi begins to hike up her long dress, the fabric yielding easily to his touch until it's gathered at the top of her thighs, exposing her black, lacey panties. His hands roam lower, trailing a path of electricity along her skin until they find purchase behind her thighs, gripping the soft skin firmly as he effortlessly lifts her into his arms.

She wraps her legs around his waist, anchoring herself to him as he hoists her up against the solid pillar of the gazebo. She feels his hardness pressing up against her clothed cunt and it has a sharp pang of pleasure sprouting at her core, igniting a fierce heat to course through her entirely. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of ecstasy rippling through her body as she surrenders to the intrinsic urgency of their shared horniness.

The pure conviction in his tone only adds to the intensity of the moment. She wants nothing more than to be completely ruined by this man. She wants to be his, and his alone.

Javier grinds his hips up, the friction between them firing up every nerve ending. Her pussy throbs with need, aching for more of his touch. She can feel every inch of him pressing against her, his hard cock straining against his pants, begging to be released.

As their bodies move in perfect harmony, she wraps her fingers in his hair, tugging at it lightly. His lips move from her neck and crash against hers, a wild, passionate kiss that leaves them both panting for air. It grows more frenzied, their teeth clashing together in a desperate and selfish need for more. She moans into his mouth, the sound sending a jolt of electric arousal straight to his cock. He grinds harder against her, his hips moving in rhythm with hers.

She can feel her orgasm building, a fierce heat blossoming through her body. Her whimpers turn to animated moans as she writhes against him. The last time she dry humped someone to completion had been way back in high school and that had been an overall embarrassment so it's never something she revisited.

Not until now, with Javier who is making her feel like she's the only girl in the fucking world.

His fingers expertly trace the curve of her breast, teasing her hardened nipple through the fabric of her dress. She arches her back, pressing her chest into his hand, silently begging for more. He takes the hint, groping her and squeezing it gently, relishing in the way she shudders.

Her eyes close in ecstasy as he continues to stroke and knead her tit. His other hand trails along her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the heat between her legs. When he finally reaches her core, she gasps, her body trembling with need. He doesn't touch her, instead he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of her thigh.

“ If this is what you wanted so fucking bad then go ahead and take it, needy girl. Go on, make yourself cum by grinding that wet pussy all over me. “

She mewls, throwing her head back as she feels her orgasm building. She's such a sight to bear witness to, how her swollen lips part and his name slips from her tongue like a hymn, making his cock twitch.

Her wetness seeps through her flimsy thong, leaving a damp spot on the fabric of his dress pants. He can feel it seeping through the material and it drives him mad. He needs to be inside her, to feel her walls fluttering around his cock as they finally give in to each other…

But first, he wants to watch her unravel just like this.

“ I'm close, Javi… “ His lips hungrily devour the tender flesh of her neck again, making her eyes roll back as their hips continue to move at a sensual pace. The metallic zipper of his pants brushes against her sensitive clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She can't help but cry out in sweet surrender, her voice louder than before.

His large hand clamps over her mouth, preventing her screams from echoing out.

“ Don't get us caught, chiquita. Wouldn't want your daddy comin' out here and findin' you like this–– all cockdrunk and begging to be fucked. “

His dirty and abrasive words are like fuel to the flames of her impending climax, sending her spiraling out of control. Her rhythm stutters, her body writhing uncontrollably as she bites down on the skin of his palm as the orgasm overtakes her entirely.

All that can be heard is their heavy, shared pants. His hand falls from her mouth as she falls limp in his arms, her body jolting every now and again with the aftershock of her intense orgasm.

She peppers tender kisses along the bare expanse of his jaw, silently berating him for having his shirt buttoned up for once and the pesky tie restricting her from licking and biting against the tantalizing skin of his neck and collarbone.

“ Need… need to feel you, Javi, please. “ She whines against his ear, her hands trailing down from his broad shoulders, over his chest, then down to his belt buckle. She can still feel the swell of him pressed up against her sopping cunt and despite just coming hard; she's craving to feel all of him.

This is the pivotal moment where he knows he should exercise restraint, where the noble path of virtue beckons him to rise above the consuming tide of desire. To explain to her that they can and never will be anything but an unattainable fantasy.

But he doesn't, instead Javi lets her untuck his dress shirt from his pants and helps her with unbuckling his belt.

“ We shouldn't do this, Paloma… “ Is all he can say in an attempt to keep it from happening but she shushes him, her hand slipping beneath his boxers as she wraps her manicured fingers around his girth and begins to pump him slowly.

“ Mierda, “ He curses in Spanish, his forehead falling gently against hers as his eyes flutter close at the overwhelming feeling of her softer, smaller hand jerking him off. Her thumb glides over the tip, spreading his excessive precum over the length of his cock.

“ But we want to… oh you're so big Javi. Gonna be feelin' you for days… “ She sounds like something out of a wet dream and he simply can't hold back any longer.

He instructs her to grab his wallet from his suit pocket and to retrieve the condom he keeps in there, receiving a playful eye roll from her but she doesn't push her luck–– she needs him badly and she'd go absolutely feral if he decided to deny them both the pleasure of fucking.

His strong hold on her keeps them secure against the pillar, she rips the small package with her teeth then pushes his pants down enough to release his erection, rolling the latex on easily.

There's a moment where suspension hangs in the air, both of them staring into each other's lust blown eyes.

“ Don't think about it too much, please. Just fuck me. “

Her insistence is such a turn on, spurring him into reaching down to ball up the thin layer of her panties before he yanks them off, the sound of the fabric tearing apart causing her to gasp. Stuffing the ruined material into his back pocket, he readjusts so that the thick head of his cock presses up against her exposed and puffy folds.

“ Such an impatient little thing, hermosa. I shouldn't even give you what you want. Should just walk away and leave you here a desperate and wet mess. “

Gripping onto the base of his cock with his free hand, Javier nudges it between her slit and teases her, the head repeatedly brushing against the pearl of her clit.

Her breath hitches, rolling her hips to entice him into entering her, “ Please, Javi, I'll do whatever you want just plea–– oh f-fuck! “

He sinks into her pussy, leaning forward to bite down on her shoulder to keep his own sounds of pleasure at bay as he feels the way her fleshy walls contract around his cock, stretching her with how thick he is.

Her fingers return to intertwine themselves in his hair as he begins to set a delicious pace, fucking into her with a passion that's making her see stars. The feeling of his teeth digging into her skin is an added stimulant to the already immense pleasure.

“ Damn it you're so tight. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, pretty girl. You satisfied now that I'm giving you what you want, huh? “ He grunts out, nipping at her jawline as all she does is keen and moan, too overwhelmed with how good he's making her feel. “ Spoiled little thing, gonna fuck that right out of this tight little body. So you can learn, fuck, learn how not to be such a fucking pain in my ass. “

She's too wrapped up in the feeling of him brushing up against her cervix to fully process what he is saying against her skin. Their lips slant over each other as they kiss messily, the way he fucks her making her brain melt.

There's no thoughts up there, just the feeling of him as he continues to break her open with his delicious cock.

His hands fall down to her waist, holding on tightly as he goes from languid thrusts to a quicker, more brutal pace as they chase their orgasms.

She's glad that they're far away enough to where no one can interrupt this moment, though the idea of there being an onlooker does entice her more than she'd ever admit.

Her legs tighten around his waist, the pointed heel of her shoes digging into his backside as she feels a knot forming at the pit of her stomach, indicating that she isn't far from coming undone.

“ C'mon nena, be a good girl and let go, “ His thumb finds itself being pressed against her soft lips and immediately she opens her mouth, licking around then sucking the digit and maintaining eye contact through it all. It has Javier grunting out a few explicits before letting his saliva coated thumb drop between them, rubbing tight circles against her clit.

This has her clenching around him and crying out, which causes a smirk to tug at his lips as he puts more pressure onto her clit. “ Tan bonita así, toda lista para mi. (So pretty like this, all ready for me) “

She tugs harshly at his hair at the sound of his Spanish, her arousal topples over and her second orgasm hits her like toppling bricks. She squeezes his cock tightly inside her, her legs an iron grip on his waist as she bites down harshly on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood, to keep her intense whimpers and moans from spilling out and drawing attention to them.

Satisfied that he's made her unravel on him, Javier fucks her through her orgasm relentlessly until he's spilling into the condom, burying his face in her neck, right where he can feel her pulse, and grazing the skin with his teeth. He wants to leave a mark, for her to walk around with evidence of him on her body but that'd be a wrong move atop of all the other wrong moves he's made tonight.

Paloma breathes heavily, mind hazy as she tries to recollect herself from the throes of passion bestowed upon her by Javier Peña. They stay there, embraced in one another before he pulls out of her with a grunt and she whines at the loss of him.

Her legs unwrap from his waist as he tentatively sets her down, discarding of the condom into the water as he tucks himself back into his pants and she pulls her dress down, not even bothered by the fact that he ripped her underwear right off of her.

“ That was a mistake. “

His statement cuts through the night air and she's already struggling to catch her footing on wobbly legs, the effect of being fucked hard and good.

“ Javi–– “

“ No, Paloma, I'm fucking serious. “ He asserts, his voice taking on a sharp edge, landing like a heavy blow on her already rattled nerves.

“ All that sentimental bullshit you were saying before… it means nothing to me. You're just a distraction–– a pretty face that's been keeping me from doing my damn job. Now, there's another life lost, and instead of finding answers, I'm too busy babysitting you. “

“ Don't you dare pin your incompetence on me, Javier, “ She shoots back, her tone tinged with anger and frustration, “ I've seen my father struggle with this bullshit for months now–– it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. S'not my fault you're not as clever as everyone thinks you are. All the praise you get for being such a fuckin' hero and yet… look at you. Unable to meet the expectations. “

She adjusts the thin straps of her dress back up her shoulder, wincing slightly as she brushes against the bite mark he accidentally left against her skin, knowing that she's going to feel that atop of the soreness between her legs after this.

She braces herself for the inevitable discomfort that will follow, both physically and emotionally.

Javier's jaw tightens, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he fights to maintain his composure. He knows better than to let her words get to him the way that they are.

This is exactly what they need, some intense fight to fully shatter the illusion of their involvement.

“ Look at you, Paloma, “ He sneers, his words dripping with contempt as he levels a scornful gaze at her. “ Throwing yourself at me every chance you get like a whore. I used to pay for shit like this, but you? Oh, I didn't spare a fucking dime. Giving it all up for free. “

Her jaw drops, a surge of anger and indignation flooding her senses as his words cut through her like a knife. She raises her hand instinctively, intent on delivering a stinging rebuke in the form of a slap across his jaw. But before she can make contact, his grip tightens around her wrist, arresting her movement with an iron grip.

“ Don't be stupid, querida, “ He mocks her, his voice laced with disdain as he delivers each word like a venomous dagger. “ Now that I fucked you one good time: Leave. Me. Alone. How 'bout you go back inside and fraternize with the mayor. I'm sure he's eager to give you all the male validation you're clearly chasing after. “ He tilts his head, glaring at her in contempt. “ Better yet, run off to your junkie, criminal boyfriend; won't be long before he knocks you up and you're stuck living in a run down trailer park in this shitty fucking town. “

Paloma's heart shatters at his callous words, tears welling up in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks unchecked. She gazes up at Javier, but the man before her is no longer the sweet, charming figure she thought she knew. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now glint with coldness and malice, rendering him unrecognizable to her.

“ Fuck you, “ She spits, wrenching her hand free from his grip with a mixture of anger and hurt flashing in her eyes. Despite the tears welling up, she summons every ounce of defiance to shoot him a disdainful glare. “ You're a piece of shit, Javier Peña. “

With those final words, ones he's heard a plethora of times before, she whirls around, her footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden stairs as she races to the nearest bathroom.

Ignoring the throbbing ache between her legs, a reminder of their recent intimacy, she finds solace in the confines of the lavish restroom, allowing herself to unleash the torrent of tears pent up inside. Feeling foolish and utterly used, she wonders how she could have ever fallen for a man like him.

Meanwhile, Javier is left grappling with the sight of her heartbreak now etched into his memory. Pushing aside his own conflicted emotions, he knows he can't afford to let their tangled affair distract him any longer.

This is what you both needed. He reminds himself, looking out into the water as the silver moonlight reflects off of the surface. Harsh, but she'll get over it.

With a resigned sigh, he retrieves another cigarette, the familiar ritual offering a fleeting sense of calm amidst the storm raging about.

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