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javier-pena · 3 years

Text

triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

Word Count: 13.7k (I know, I know ...)

Rating: Explicit (and I mean explicit, this is the most explicit thing I’ve ever written)

Summary: You and Javi have been talking about inviting someone into your bed, just to see what it would be like. But you had no idea he already has someone in mind.

Notes: This started as a brief conversation I had with Dani @javierpcna while making a gifset actually, and it turned into this huge fic involving a character that doesn’t even speak a single line of dialogue (yes, this is Katie, the woman from the elevator in s3e1, the one who looks at Javi ... respectfully). I actually don’t remember the last time I had this much fun writing anything, so I guess I will be writing more Javi fics in future ... also, as always, huge thanks to Dani for putting up with my crazy ideas for a week, for encouraging me, for sacrificing a Sunday evening to read this, and for kindling the flames that brought this on in the first place! Also I believe Javi doesn’t share but he can be a bit ooc - as a treat ...

***

Javi doesn’t like to talk about his work. He doesn’t like to “bring it home” with him, even though the word “home” is all relative to him. He keeps quiet about it when you’re at his flat, that’s sacred ground to him, but your flat is fine. So when he’s at your place, he sometimes talks about his colleagues, the paperwork he needs to finish, how his boss got on his nerves today. You know there is much he could tell you, a lot he doesn’t share on purpose, and some things he never mentions because he’s not proud of them.

At first, you are worried because he doesn’t let you in. You aren’t used to having someone in your life who keeps so much hidden from you, especially someone you slowly, over time, start to share everything with, from a cup of coffee over breakfast, over a cigarette during a hasty lunch break, to sighs and moans, joined hands and heartbeats under the cover of the night. Especially someone you slowly but surely find yourself falling in love with, someone you want to share your life with, but also someone who doesn’t seem to feel the same way, who keeps a part of himself hidden behind tailored suits and starched shirts. It makes you nervous and wary when he never answers your questions, it hurts you when he changes the subject, sometimes quite cruelly, but over time you begin to see this arrangement as something enjoyable.

In all your previous relationships, you’d mostly talked about work, discussed your day, asked boring questions to get boring answers from your partner. Maybe that is the reason why they never lasted – you were so preoccupied with involving each other in your professional lives that you never focused on the personal aspect of your relationships. But with Javi you’re forced to talk about something else, about anything else, books, movies, music, travels, that little dog you saw on the street today, how your mother is doing, the sock that has gotten lost in the dryer. And you love this about him, love how you’d gotten to know an entirely different version of him than most people know. Granted, he doesn’t watch a lot of movies and he doesn’t listen to a lot of music, he hardly ever has time to read, but he’s seen the world, he tells you stories you don’t bore of hearing repeatedly, while your fingers lay entwined on his broad chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your body, his breath tickling your hand, while he talks, and you listen. Sometimes, on the rare occasion he cooks for you, he tells you about his childhood, about how his mother taught him to kill a chicken (“If you can eat it, you can kill it”), about how is father gave him his first beer to drink when he was eight (“It’ll make a man out of you”), about how his grandmother showed him which spices to use for what dish (“Never mix garlic and lemon juice, it’ll turn the garlic green”). It’s moments like these where you feel he trusts you. You don’t need him to give you a detailed rundown of his day, to tell you how badly his morning coffee tasted, how boring his meeting was, how much his colleagues annoyed him. Getting to know this personal side of him, the one you know he doesn’t usually share, that’s enough for you.

You trust him, and he trusts you.

His withdrawnness when it comes to his work is the reason you’re completely caught by surprise when you’re over at his place one cloudy Saturday afternoon for a late lunch and he mentions work. You’re the one cooking this time, a stew your grandmother taught you to make, and while you wait for it to finish simmering, you sit at his small kitchen table, lost in idle conversation. And no matter how idle those conversations get, talking to Javi is never boring, and that is one of the things you love about him. But when he does mention work – and nothing prompts it, no probing questions on your part about a torn shirt you find lying discarded on his couch, no need to share something with you out of weariness and frustration on his part – you are immediately snapping to attention. It’s infuriating how he does it, casually, while he fills a glass with tap water for you.

“There’s this girl at work,” he says, and your ears prick up at the word work, immediately on guard. He turns off the water but doesn’t turn to look at you when he continues. “I think … I think you would … like her.”

It’s so uncharacteristic of him to be this careful, almost flustered – is that a flush you see creeping up his neck? He’s usually very assured, he usually has no trouble making eye contact, he usually says what he needs to say with as little or as many words as he sees fit. So when he stammers and blushes like this, you can’t help but smile. You can guess, of course, what this is about. You’ve mentioned a few times that you miss your friends back home, that you sometimes feel lonely and wish you had more people to talk to. And he remembered, he listened to you and he remembered, which makes a warmth spread from your chest to your limbs, and the corners of your eyes crinkle with a soft smile.

“Is that so?” you ask teasingly.

He turns around and takes the two steps to close the distance between the sink and the table. You take the glass from him as soon as he stands in front of you.

“She’s … nice,” he tries to elaborate. He sits down next to you and takes your hand into his, his skin warm to the touch. His thumb brushes over your knuckles as he watches moisture gather on your glass. It is a hot day, and the windows of his small kitchen are open, allowing for the sounds of the city to drift in, to swirl around the two of you, to give you some background noise to the comfortable silence that sometimes settles between you. “She’s funny,” he continues finally. “Ambitious, too. Junior agent. You have a lot in common.”

That sounds more like the Javi you know; observant, good at reading people, good at making connections. He’s still not looking at you though; it feels like he’s asking you something big, something life-changing, not like he’s trying to help you find a friend.

“Yeah, she sounds nice,” you agree. You raise the glass with your free hand and take a sip of water. “I’d like to meet her.” And even if you shouldn’t get along, there is no harm done. But you feel like you will because Javi is very good at reading people and if he says that this woman is someone you would like to spend time with, you know you will.

“You would?” His head snaps up in surprise, and it makes you smile again. As if you could ever refuse him! And if he’d ask you to move to Antarctica with him, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you can understand his tentativeness because you haven’t technically told him that. Yes, Javi is easy to talk to, but not when it comes to feelings. Those conversations are reserved for the dead hours of the night, for when it feels like you two are the only people in the world, for when you both know you can open up to each other, be at your most vulnerable state without the other person taking advantage of it, of crushing it like a fallen leaf. And you haven’t had many of those conversations yet.

Still, your heart picks up speed at the thought of how he’s looking out for you, of how he met a woman at work and thought to himself that you maybe would like to be her friend, how he was nervous to bring it up because he thought he might have misread your needs. But if there is one thing Javi is brilliant at, the one thing no one else in your life has ever been able to do, it is reading your needs, interpreting them correctly, and then acting accordingly to them, doing everything he can to care for you and look out for you, sometimes even at the expense of his own needs. You wouldn’t be able to tell that about him by looking at him, by hearing how his acquaintances talk about him, but there is a soft side to this man, one you feel very protective of.

You nod with enthusiasm. “Sure, why not? If she’s as great as you say, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t be getting along.” You are very curious to meet this woman. He’s hardly given you any information about her, but still, she sparks your interest.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Good.” He also nods, but when he does it, there is an air of determination to it. It feels like you’ve just agreed to some big plan you don’t fully understand, not to having lunch with one of his colleagues. “Listen, there’s this work thing next Friday.” His voice gets lower with each word, so he pauses to clear his throat. “I think you should come along, meet everyone … officially. She’s also gonna be there, it’s a good opportunity …”

Now you can’t help but giggle. He squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back. “You’re very eager to introduce me to her, aren’t you?” you tease, but there is no malice in your words. You’re actually flattered he’s talking about introducing you to his colleagues, about bridging that divide between private and professional.

Your fondness for him gets lost in translation, and your words fall on different ears than they are intended for. “I’ve been telling everyone at work a lot about you –”

You cut him off with a firm kiss that elicits a low growl from his chest. “Javi, I’m already convinced, okay? No need to lie to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hand brushing against his rough cheek. He has to understand that he doesn’t need to pretend with you, that he can be his true self around you.

He lifts your entwined hands from the tabletop and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. “I’m not lying.” You want to believe him, but there is a glint in his eyes when he looks up from your hand and locks his gaze to yours. It would be wise to be annoyed with him or tease him in turn, but you can’t help yourself. Every time those brown eyes land on you, you feel a pull towards him you cannot quite explain but also cannot ignore. You have to give in.

Still, you roll your eyes in a valiant attempt to keep up a semblance of dignity before pushing yourself off your chair and onto his lap. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck and you grip it and hold onto it as you carefully roll your hips under the pretense of finding a comfortable position. Both his hands immediately land on your sides and squeeze.

“Then let me give you something to tell them about,” you whisper, your lips right next to his ear, and nothing beats the feeling of pride rushing through you as he pushes his hips up, chasing a tiny bit of friction. You’re sure it’s basic instinct, something he can’t quite control, and you love nothing more than making him let go.

***

You thought you would be meeting Javi’s colleagues at a bar, but then you find yourself in front of a nice restaurant. It’s the only place in town that sells good burgers, or at least that’s what the man at your side tells you. You were planning on getting pleasantly drunk, not making conversation while trying to coordinate a knife and fork, but you think you’ll manage as long as you stick to your companion.

But something about Javi feels off tonight. He nervously fixed his tie in your hallway mirror when he picked you up (usually he doesn’t care about the state of his tie’s knot), he didn’t talk to you much during the drive to the restaurant (usually he points out little details he notices about the city or takes this opportunity to compliment you), and now he keeps fiddling with the cuff of your blouse as he leads you up the stairs to the restaurant’s entrance.

You’re also nervous, mostly because you haven’t met any of the people you’re about to be introduced to, and you don’t know if you’ll have something in common with them or if you’ll spend your evening sitting alone in some dark corner nursing one fancy cocktail after the other. If there’s one thing you’re not good at, it’s going into a situation unprepared, and Javi did nothing to help you build up some expectations about what to expect from tonight. To be fair, you didn’t ask. You didn’t ask about the colleagues you’re about to meet, you didn’t ask where you were going to meet them, and you didn’t ask about the woman he is planning on introducing to you. The reason for your silence? You didn’t want to annoy him, show him just how insecure you are.

But you feel oh so apprehensive about this evening. Your positions are reversed now – suddenly it is you who thinks it might not be such a good idea to mix personal and private. You have no answer as to why you feel like this. It is just a dull sensation in the pit of your stomach that makes your hands feel cold even though it’s a hot, humid evening. It makes you want to turn to the man at your side and ask him to go home. But you won’t. Because despite the dread you’re feeling you’re kind of excited at the prospect of meeting this new colleague he mentioned to you. There is an air of mystery around her that intrigues you because he hasn’t talked about her since that afternoon almost a week ago. And you appreciate the gesture of him biting the bullet and mixing the two sides of the coin that is Javier Peña so you can find a friend.

Once you make it inside, Javi leads you to a group of people who are already standing together in a cluster. The introductions are over way too fast, and you don’t remember a single name. Most of the men you meet look the same to you – they’re wearing suits in different shades of blue and grey and brown, broad, colorful ties, and big smiles. You’re smiling too as you shake their hands, while Javi introduces you to them as his girlfriend, and you know he would because he told you he would, but it still makes you feel warm and tingly, and it cements your right to be here by his side. You’re pretty sure you keep smiling at him like a lovesick teenager, but you don’t care. He’s smiling too, keeping close to you, a hand at the small of your back or on your elbow, his chest always right behind you for you to fall back into should you seek comfort.

Sometimes, you feel him stiffen behind you when a few of his colleagues crack jokes about how you were able to tie down the elusive Javier Peña. He rolls his eyes at their remarks, but you laugh along. You know about his reputation, you know about his past relations with other women, but you don’t mind. Why should you? You also don’t mind his colleagues’ reactions – all you care about is that this feels right at the moment and you wouldn’t change it for anything. But you do understand a bit better why Javi was wary of you meeting his colleagues.

To your relief, there is enough to drink, and soon you find yourself standing at Javi’s side, a bottle of beer in your hand, while you listen to him talk to a man about ten years his senior. You don’t understand much of what they are saying – they’re using so many abbreviations it sounds like code – but Javi stands with his hip cocked to one side so he’s leaning close to you, and you enjoy feeling the ghostly shadow of him by your side. Since he doesn’t like to talk about his job, you enjoy seeing this relatively unknown aspect of him, this other man who’s like a stranger to you, who talks with so much confidence and poise that you cannot help but listen to his every word. And you understand why he seems to be so admired among his colleagues, why they were eager to shake his hand when you arrived, why they seek out his company, why they wave at him from the other side of the room. He’s good at what he does, competent, capable, he knows how to be in charge of a situation without obtruding, and you feel such a strong pull towards this side of him you have to take a big swig from your beer bottle to hide how much this is affecting you. The last thing you need is him teasing you about it.

But before your behavior exposes your desires, he suddenly moves away, and you’re pulled after him, not so much in motion but in attention. He’s spotted someone, a woman, and he’s leaning down to press a light kiss to her right cheek before turning to you.

“This is Katie,” he introduces her, and there’s something in the way he says those three words that makes you pause. You smile at her as you shake her hand, but then your gaze flickers back to Javi who suddenly looks at you like he did in his kitchen six days ago, unsure yet with an edge of something more, something you can’t fully grasp, and then you know.

This is the woman. This is this girl at work that he thinks you’re going to like.

You turn your attention back to her to look at her, to see what he’s seeing. She’s shorter than both you, with long, brown hair that she wears in open waves. You think she has a winning smile and kind eyes, and you immediately want to get to know her better. She compliments your blouse, she makes a joke about something Javi did at work the other day, she’s even holding a bottle of your favorite beer. She seems to be all Javi promised her to be.

Then why is he looking at you so nervously, like a small boy bringing home a teacher’s note?

Javi introduces you as his girlfriend, and Katie doesn’t miss a beat before she says, “Oh, he’s told me a lot about you,” with one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“He has?” you ask. You’re not fishing for compliments. You’re genuinely surprised, since you hadn’t expected him to be sharing his private life with his colleagues, much like he doesn’t share his professional one with you. The thought of him talking about you with this woman who is standing in front of you, makes you smile. You decide to tease him about it. “You two spend a lot of time together then?”

Katie’s smile flickers, if only for a short second. “No, it’s not –,” she starts, but Javi interrupts her before she can finish.

“Katie likes fishing,” he says.

It catches you completely off-guard, as does the look on his face. He raises a hand and lets his fingers run over his lips, something he always does when he’s nervous, while he waits for your answer.

“I do,” Katie says with an enthusiastic nod.

You have no idea what’s going on, but you decide to play along. “I go fishing with my dad whenever I’m in the States,” you tell them.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Katie exclaims, and it should, by all means, sound like something she’s only saying to be polite, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sounds like she means it. “Where are you from?”

“North Carolina,” you answer. It’s something you don’t talk about often because it’s not interesting. If you were from California or New York, people would follow up this revelation with questions and stories of their own. But North Carolina? You always feel a bit embarrassed about mentioning it.

But Katie’s reply is something you haven’t heard before. “You don’t sound like you’re from North Carolina.”

Maybe you should be offended – you don’t know what she’s implying with this – but for some reason it just makes you laugh. “Thanks,” you say.

“No, oh my God,” she backtracks immediately, “I didn’t mean to offend you …”

“You didn’t,” you assure her with a dismissive wave of your hand. You glance at Javi then, and he’s following your conversation like a cop watching his partner interrogate a suspect, like he’s afraid of missing just one syllable of what you are saying. His whole body is rigid, his hands are balled into fists at his side, and his face is a mask of pure concentration. “So,” you start again, turning back to Katie, “what has he been telling you about me?”

Several tables have been put together to stand along three walls of one of the biggest rooms in the restaurant. As you sit down and skim the menu, Katie answers your question. Javi speaks of you differently than most of their colleagues speak about their wives or girlfriends. When he talks about you, it doesn’t feel like he would rather do anything else than spend time with you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It makes your face grow hot. You try to distract yourself by ordering your meal, by changing the subject (“So, tell me, Katie, where are you from?”), by watching Javi talk to a middle-aged woman next to him, by watching Javi make her smile.

Katie tells you everything you want to know, answers all your questions in great detail, but always turns the attention back to you. When you ask her about her favorite music, she asks you about yours. When you ask her about her family, she asks you about yours. When you ask her what made her take a job in Colombia, she asks you about how you came to be here. It is a dialogue, not a monologue. She tells you about her brothers back home, about how one is a bank manager while the other went into environmentalism. She tells you she’s always wanted to go to Europe, and she hopes her next DEA assignment will finally get her there. She also tells you about her work for the DEA, about how she spends most of her days in the office, but also about how Javi took her along on a raid recently.

And you realize Javi was right. You do like her. She’s pleasant company, she’s educated but not in that stuck-up way most of Javi’s colleagues are. When you admit that you have no idea who the current Attorney General is, she doesn’t look at you like you just said you enjoy drowning kittens. She just brushes it off and changes the subject. When you tell her about a book you’ve been reading, she takes a small notepad from her bag and jots down the title and author, telling you she’ll check it out. And you truly believe she will.

When you’ve finished most of the food on your plate, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. You check your watch, surprised that it’s already this late. Your gaze wanders over to where Javi is now talking to two young men who hang on his every word. But he’s glancing at you, a question on his face. You mouth, “What?” but he just shrugs. If he’s still worried you won’t like Katie, he has no reason to. You’re having a very pleasant evening.

When Katie gets back, Javi glances between the two of you, running his finger over his lips again. You just smile at him and, with ease, pick up the conversation with Katie once more. Maybe you should talk to someone else for a change, but Katie doesn’t seem to be bored by your company either, so you have no desire to change anything about your current situation.

Towards the end of the night, you too find yourself in the bathroom. You’re tired, but pleasantly sated, yawning while you wash your hands. You can’t wait to curl up next to Javi tonight and tell him about how much you loved talking to Katie. But you’re also not quite ready for this night to be over yet.

When you step out of the bathroom, Javi is there, waiting for you in the cramped space of the dimly lit hallway. You jump, caught off-guard, but when he shoots you an awkward glance, you can’t help but giggle.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” he asks. He’s curling the fingers of his right hand into a tight fist and releases them again, over and over. It’s another one of his nervous ticks, one he does when he’s trying to relieve tension.

“Sure, what’s up?” you reply, trying to sound casual.

Javi looks nervous, so maybe you’ve fucked up. Maybe you did something or said something, and one of his colleagues saw or heard and complained to Javi about you. You swallow hard, trying to keep the smile on your face.

“Are you having fun?” he asks next.

“Yes, of course.”

“And the food?”

“Am I enjoying the food?” you try to clarify. “Sure.”

“And Katie? You like her?”

This makes you laugh. “Yes, I like her. What’s this about, Javi?”

He doesn’t reply, just shoots you a look, pregnant with meaning.

“What?” you ask, and finally stop smiling. “Do you want me to say I don’t like her?”

“No, no,” he says, too quickly. “I’m just –”

You interrupt him. “I know you’re nervous about me liking her, but you don’t have to be. She’s really nice.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I’m gonna ask her if she wants to meet up for coffee.”

“There’s something …,” he starts before clearing his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” you tease him.

“It’s about Katie,” he answers.

“Sure.”

He takes a deep breath and then breaks eye contact with you, focusing his attention on the wall behind you. “I would like to ask her to join us …,” he says very slowly, making sure you catch every word, “… in bed … tonight.”

Still, you’re not sure you’ve understood him correctly. “What?”

“Just if you want to,” he clarifies.

That doesn’t really answer your question, or any of the other, and there are a lot, but you don’t know where to begin. “Katie?” you say, trying to encompass everything you’re feeling with this single question.

You look past Javi to where she’s sitting, watching the people around her with interest. And then something drops – you’re not sure you’d call it a penny because it feels smaller than that, but you suddenly remember having talked about inviting someone into your bed to see what it would be like. The conversation happened a few weeks ago, after Javi had fucked you for what felt like hours. You had lost count of the number of orgasms you’ve had, but still he didn’t seem to be satisfied. You hadn’t thought much of it then. All you remember is agreeing to give it a try; your fucked-out brain would have agreed to anything. But you had no idea Javi already had someone in mind, you had no idea he’d brought it up thinking of Katie. And suddenly the tone he had used to talk about her in his kitchen a week ago sounds a lot different to you.

Javi’s silent, staring at you with his big, brown eyes, patiently waiting for an answer, while you’re trying to wrap your head around this proposition.

And your mind is racing. You did say yes to the idea of it when he asked you about it, but he just sprung this on you, and it’s so much more than an idea now, it’s a plan, one he’s fully prepared to set in motion. He’s talking about tonight, he’s talking about leaving here and taking her home with you and doing this … tonight. You haven’t been given a chance to prepare for this, you don’t know how you feel about it, how you’re supposed to feel, so you decide to try something.

“Would you like that?” you ask him.

He nods.

“Why her?” you want to know.

“I think she’s nice, pretty, …,” he answers with a non-committal shrug.

“I thought you wanted her to be my friend,” you remind him.

“Of course, I want that,” he’s quick to assure you. “I want you two to get along.”

You reach up to grab his tie then. “Javier, are you sure about this?” you ask with emphasis.

His eyes open wide at this. “Yes.”

You feel a familiar tingling between your legs at hearing his breath hitch. Before you let this go too far, you look over at Katie again and try to imagine her in bed between the two of you, but you can’t. You have no idea how you would even start thinking about this, so you focus on something else, something you’re familiar with, something steady: Javi.

“All right,” you agree. “But there’s some rules I want us to follow.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks and it sounds so incredulous you almost smile.

“Yes, just –”

But he crowds you against the wall, pushes you back against the bricks before you can finish the sentence.

“What –,” you start.

Then he kisses you in a way that’s meant for the privacy of your bedroom, not a public restaurant. You kiss him back tentatively because you don’t want to encourage him too much. He comes even closer, and you feel something brush against your leg.

A smirk spreads across your face. “Why didn’t you say something?” you ask between kisses.

“I am saying something,” he points out.

“Yeah, but sooner.”

He shrugs again, then goes in for another kiss. You hold him back.

“Javi, stop,” you say in a firm voice. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay?”

He nods.

“You have to ask her,” you insist. “I’m not doing it, all right?”

He nods.

“And I don’t …,” you lower your voice, “want you inside of her. Is that clear?”

He nods.

“I’ll be in charge,” you go on. “I’ll decide what we’re doing.”

The “fine” he gives you as an answer is accompanied by a deep rumbling in his chest.

“And she’s not staying over. I don’t care how late it gets, she’s leaving afterwards.” You feel like you need to set these boundaries if you want this to work.

“Can I take her home?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer.

He licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

***

You’re in the car. Javi is driving, you’re next to him, watching the lights of the city drift by. Your heartbeat is louder than the sound of the engine, you expect Katie to remark on it any second now, to ask if everything’s okay. But she doesn’t. She’s talking about a book she’s reading, one you’ve also read (and loved) but you can’t bring yourself to hold a conversation. Katie doesn’t pick up on the shift in atmosphere, and if she does, she doesn’t comment on it. But you feel like there’s a deadly snake resting between your feet, one that will bite if you make a single wrong move.

There is a difference between talking about inviting Katie home with you in a room full of people where it’s just a theoretical concept and actually doing it.

Javi agreed to be the one to ask her. But he’s kept quiet so far. All he did was offer Katie a ride home, which she accepted with a big smile on her face. You glance over at Javi as he’s driving, his face alternating between being aflame in golden lighting and hidden in complete darkness. You can see the tension in his facial expression by the way he furrows his brow, but when he glances over at you there is something in his gaze – reassurance, yes, but also an edge of something you can’t quite put your finger on. You tell yourself his eyes are only this dark because your environment is. And suddenly you don’t feel like you’re in danger anymore; suddenly you want to exploit this situation, exploit the power it gives you over him.

You turn around to look at Katie, who’s sitting in the seat behind Javi. She just ended a long explanation about a character’s motivation by saying, “… you know,” and you nod to signal you’ve been listening, even though you haven’t.

If Javi doesn’t want to bring it up, you have to. Because the more you think about it, the more you want to do this, and you don’t want to rely on a man who can’t make the first move.

“Katie, I was wondering …,” you start, and immediately Javi’s right hand leaves the wheel, and his fingers dig into your thigh. You inhale sharply at the sensation but continue, “… are you seeing anyone?” Javi loosens his hold on you but doesn’t let go completely.

Katie shakes her head, then bites her lip bottom lip. “You know,” she says then lowers her voice, “I actually had my eyes on …,” she nods at Javi, “but please don’t think –”

You interrupt her. “No, please, Katie, it’s fine.” You smile at the man next to you, who shakes his head ever so slightly. “I completely understand.”

“Yeah,” Katie sighs and shakes her head so her hair tumbles down over one shoulder. “There are actually a few broken hearts at the office.”

That makes you laugh, if only because Javi looks utterly miserable. “I think he’s secretly enjoying that,” you whisper in a conspiratorial tone of voice.

Javi makes a sound of warning, one that tells you to shut up.

“Javi, I’m kidding,” you say with a light laugh. It’s only half the truth. You know him. You know he enjoys the attention.

Katie, too, starts to apologize, but you interrupt her again.

“Please, you have nothing to apologize for, he can take it.” You wonder if you should press your luck, if you should rile him up a bit more, and you decide it’s the right thing to do. “Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the attention, Javi. Broken hearts … women pining for you …”

Javi makes another sound of warning. “It’s not like that,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What’s it like then?” you challenge.

Katie interrupts your stand-off before Javi can reply. “You guys, this is me, actually,” she says, pointing at the dark shape of an apartment building at the end of the block.

You turn around to face her again. “Katie, would you like to come up for a cup of coffee? Javi lives just down the street.”

“You sure?” Katie looks at Javi when she asks.

The knuckles on Javi’s hands are white from clutching the steering wheel.

“Of course,” you say, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, all right,” Katie agrees.

You’re all quiet until you reach Javi’s apartment building. He gets out to open the garage door, then drives the car inside. You can’t help but notice that he still hasn’t asked, and you feel yourself getting nervous and antsy. If he doesn’t do it soon, you’ll definitely be the one to bring it up.

As soon as the car is parked, Katie gets out and shuts the door behind her with a dull bang.

Javi turns in his seat so he’s facing you. “What was that?” he asks.

“Ask her,” you tell him. “Now. Or I’m gonna do it.”

“What?” he snaps.

“I was trying to give you an opening,” you explain, as calmly as possible. Why does this have to be so complicated? “Like a scene partner, you know? Set up everything, so you can ask her.”

“Well, you weren’t doing a good job.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I’m gonna do it,” Javi tells you, his voice much softer now, “just give me time.”

“How much longer do you need?” you want to know. “She almost had us drop her off at her flat.”

“I’m doing it,” Javi sighs, “just … go away.”

All the tension in you leaves your body in one big wave and you smile softly at him. “Javi, are you nervous?”

He shoots you a stern look.

You raise your hands defensively. “All right, I’m going.”

You both get out of the car, and while you walk towards the exit to the stairwell, your steps echoing through the underground parking lot, you hear Javi say, “Katie, do you have a minute?”

You stop once you reach the door, lingering in the shadows, your eyes on Javi and Katie. You watch them talk, but you cannot hear what they’re saying; they’re too far away and standing too closely together for the sound to carry all the way to you. All you can tell is that he’s explaining something to her, and when he grows quiet, he cocks his hip, arms akimbo. Then he nods at you.

You have to admit you’re more nervous than you want Javi to know. So much could go wrong. What if she starts shouting at you? What if she storms off? She’s still Javi’s colleague, he would still have to work with her. What were you thinking? Why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you ask a complete stranger? It would certainly have made things a lot less awkward.

Katie is also looking at you, just for a moment, but it’s enough time for her to take you in, from head to toe, and then she looks back at Javi. She says something, something you can’t hear, and he nods. Then she nods, too.

***

You’re on Javi’s couch, Katie is sitting next to you, another bottle of beer in her hand, while Javi has made himself comfortable in an old leather armchair. You’ve been sipping on a glass of water for the past 15 minutes while you’ve been listening to them talk about work. Neither of you has mentioned anything about the proposition, and you have no idea how to bring it up again. Yes, you want to be in charge, but you had hoped Javi would do more than just ask. You had hoped he would initiate something … anything.

But instead, they’re both relaxed and at ease, talking about some new regulations that have been introduced recently, while you try to find a way into the conversation, while you try to find something more elegant than, “Well, anyway, do you guys wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Luckily, there’s only so much time you can spend discussing regulations on car safety, and soon a tense silence settles over the room, settles between you, waiting to be cut, to be torn apart, and you know that this is your chance.

“So,” you start, and immediately both Javi and Katie turn their heads to look at you. You take a sip from your water before continuing. “Katie, there’s some things –”

She interrupts you immediately. “I know, Javi told me. I’m fine with it.”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, I just want us to go over it one more time, to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

God, why do you sound so awkward? This isn’t supposed to be a business negotiation and yet it feels like one. You don’t want to alienate Katie by insisting on those rules, but you need something to hold on to once you get started.

“I’m gonna be in charge,” you say quickly. “I hope Javi mentioned that.”

“He did,” Katie confirms with a nod.

“And I want you to leave once this is over.” It sounds mean, but it’s too late to phrase it nicer now.

“Yeah, sure,” Katie says, her expression neutral. “No problem.”

“I’m open to trying anything,” you go on. “But the minute someone feels uncomfortable with something, we stop. All right?” You look at both of them for confirmation. They both nod. “I need a verbal confirmation, please.”

“Yes,” Javi says, “we stop.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees.

“And there’s one more thing,” you say, trying to work up the courage to address it. You know it’s silly to be nervous about it, especially since you all just agreed to be open with one another, and since Javi already knows about it, but you still feel apprehension at the thought of bringing it up.

“Yeah, I know,” Katie says before you can continue. “No penetration.”

She says it so matter-of-factly, in the same tone of voice she used to talk about the new regulations that suddenly you feel like there won’t be any problems at all.

“I’m fine with fingers,” you say quickly, “just not …”

“Yes, and I’m completely fine with that,” Katie assures you.

You have no idea how she does it, how she can sit there and talk about this without flinching. Maybe you’re the problem; maybe you need to relax more. You enjoyed your evening talking to Katie, you enjoyed getting to know here, so there is nothing to indicate you’re not going to enjoy this. Katie is certainly set on enjoying herself, judging by the way her eyes roam over Javi, practically undressing him with her gaze.

And suddenly, you don’t feel shy at all. You feel brave and bold, and entirely not yourself as you lean closer to Katie and, before you can change your mind, capture her bottom lip between your lips. Katie makes a surprised sound, but then her hand is at the nape of your neck as she pulls you close. You can taste the beer lingering on her lips as you pry them open with your tongue, and you feel her gasp softly against your skin, and you just know that this won’t be a problem at all. You feel bolder with each passing second, not breaking the kiss when you rest your hand against her thigh, and she’s not breaking the kiss when you move it higher up to cup one of her breasts. All that catches your attention is a sharp intake of breath somewhere behind you. Katie hears it, too, and it makes her break the kiss.

“So, where’s the bedroom?” she asks, putting down her beer.

***

Javi’s bedroom is dark, except for the occasional flicker of light from a passing car that illuminates the walls and the bed for a few short moments. Neither of you switches on the light as you enter. It is a quiet procession, slightly awkward, as if you all don’t quite know how to approach this. You still feel apprehensive, but this feeling is slowly being replaced by giddy excitement, by adrenaline and arousal mixing together to form a dangerous, explosive cocktail you long to control but you also want to see ignited. You try to breathe in deeply, slowly, but your throat feels tight as your heart beats loudly against your ribcage.

You want this, you have to remind yourself, and it’s not the act itself you’re thinking about, but what you discussed just a few minutes ago. You wanted to be in charge, you tell yourself as both Javi and Katie look at you, their faces hidden behind thick shadows.

Katie looks as nervous as you feel. You’re all new to this, but she’s not as used to hiding her emotions behind a solid mask as Javi is. She glances at you, then back at him, waiting for you to say something. Or for him to do something. You were so brave and determined in the other room, as if you knew exactly what you were doing. You were another person. But now this feels solid and real, not something you just talk about with Javi to see the heat in his gaze. They actually expect you to do something, to guide them, and you’re not sure you can do it.

Javi, ever observant, ever determined to look out for you, senses your insecurity. Of course he does, how could he not? He is focused on you, it feels like you’re the only person here who matters to him, like this is about you and no one else. He takes a step forward until he’s a hand's width away from you, then pulls you close into a deep kiss, one that leaves you breathless within seconds. His tongue is everywhere, and his teeth nip and bite at your lip and neck until all you can do is cling to the collar of his shirt to help you ground yourself. He pushes you up against the nearest wall until you’re trapped between two solid entities. You’ve never felt safer and more sheltered. Your initial insecurity blows off as you lose yourself in the attention he’s paying you. His hands are eager to explore, roaming across your chest, pulling open your blouse with so much force you hear one of the buttons hitting the floor somewhere. You don’t mind; all you want is for him to keep going.

He does, forcing you to spread your legs so he can push one of his strong thighs between them, and you obey willingly, while you press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against the hot skin of his neck, against the bulging vein that protrudes when you let your fingers brush against his chest and stomach, trailing lower and lower, eager to reach their goal. Before they can, he pushes up his thigh and you grind down onto it, both of you moaning from the strain and the tension of it. You can feel your slick coating your underwear, you’re sure he can feel the heat through the fabric of both your trousers, and it only spurs him on – he takes a hold of your hips and urges you to keep moving. You do, your eyes fluttering shut, as your entire world is reduced to that sweet friction as you chase your pleasure, completely lost in the moment.

But then his mouth is right next to your ear and he whispers something, his voice raspy and raw, and your whole body trembles.

“Look at you,” he says, and you feel the words reverberating in his chest. “You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out in a whispered pant. “God, yes.”

He pushes up his thigh again and you let out a moan that fills the entire room.

His lips are still right next to your ear, you can feel his breath tickle your sensitive skin. “Can I kiss her?” he asks. “Will you let me?”

You can’t tell if it’s that he’s so close to you, so overwhelmingly close and solid and present, or if it’s the pleading edge to his voice when he asks you, but something makes you vibrate with desire and all you can do is nod quickly, your head connecting to the wall with a dull thud. You don’t even feel it.

He pulls you in for another kiss, taking his time with you, and you taste him, inhale his scent, drink him down, before you pull back with a soft chuckle. “Go,” you whisper, “she might get bored.”

“Yes,” he agrees, and presses another soft kiss to your lips. “I want you to take off your clothes, all right?” His thumb brushes over your cheek when he quickly cups your face. “Get comfortable …,” he hesitates, “… and if you want us to stop …”

“No!” you interrupt him. “No, please.”

The smirk spreading across his face is too cocksure for your taste, and while he’s turning away from you, you’re already trying to come up with a plan to get back at him.

Your skin still burns, it feels like your whole body, every cell, is on fire, your lungs struggle to draw in air to keep you alive. You’re sure you look like a mess, your fingers tingle and your legs shake, and you just can’t explain it, why he suddenly has this effect on you. You’re attracted to him, more than you’ve ever been to another man before, and he makes you feel so good whenever he touches you and fucks you, but this is new.

Your eyes never leave his back as he steps over to where Katie is standing completely still, as he pulls her close by her wrist, cups her cheek, his fingers tangling in her long hair, and then his lips are on hers, and she melts against him. You listen to her soft moans and his rough pants as they explore each other, and suddenly your body burns up with longing again, longing to be touched and kissed, longing to pull out those same sounds from someone else. You watch as he undresses her with adept hands, as he roughly cups one of her breasts and she mewls, satisfaction flashing across his face, as he shoves one hand between her legs, then turns to you with a satisfied grin.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know.

You hurry to get out of your clothes while Javi does the same. Katie is leaning against the wall, her body trembling, and you know how she feels, you know about the burning between her legs, about the heartbeat pounding in her ears. You’re all too familiar with the effects of his touch, his kisses, his filthy words whispered against sweat-slicked skin. But she’s been hit by it without a chance to prepare herself. When another car drives past, you get a glimpse of her flushed skin and the glimmer in her unfocused eyes, and yours flutter shut for a second in response as your hands curl into fists.

If this is what Javi gets to see when he touches you it’s not surprising he does it so often.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, helps you settle down comfortably. Katie follows, her gaze fixed on Javi’s hard cock, eyes wide.

“No,” he says, as if he can read her mind. “She’s first.”

It’s against your deal, against the rules you set for this to work. He shouldn’t be in charge, you should be, you should tell them what comes next, how to approach this. But when one of his hands grips your thigh and pulls so your legs spread and you hear a hissed breath as he looks at the evidence of your arousal slick and glistening between your legs, you lose all will to take charge. Instead, you let your head fall back and wait, wait for him.

And then there’s something else, too; Katie, on your other side, much smaller, less imposing, but there, smelling sweet and clean where Javi’s scent is heavy and choking. She settles down comfortably next to you, her body pressed against yours, and before you can get used to the feeling of her own arousal against your leg, she softly moves your head, so you look at her, and then she’s kissing you hungrily. Suddenly, her sweet scent is all you breathe and taste, her soft lips against your own ignite something deep within you, something you already felt back in the living room but which you pushed down for the time being because it wasn’t the right place. Now it is, and you pull back and push one of your legs between hers, watching how her jaw tightens, how her eyes open wide, and then she starts rolling her hips, coating your skin with her slick. You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and force her to look down, to watch herself, and when she does, you’re suddenly filled with two of Javi’s fingers, stretching you open.

A hoarse moan escapes your throat as he pulls them out again but immediately replaces them with three. You’re used to it, used to his thick, strong fingers stretching you, but you’re so wound up and on edge that it almost feels overwhelming. There are tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but then you feel Katie’s lips against your neck, and it brings you back down.

Somewhere above you, Javi huffs. “You’re so wet,” he says, his voice unbelievably deep and rough and it makes a shudder run through you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You want to come up with a witty retort, but you can’t, not when you hear what he says next. “Do you want to feel her, Katie?”

“Can I?” Katie whispers against your neck, but before the question has left her mouth in its entirety, you’re already replying.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan, trying to push up your hips to take Javi’s fingers in deeper.

He grips you with his free hand and pushes you back into the mattress. And then you feel the much softer touch of Katie’s fingers against your stomach, stroking you soothingly. She even whispers a soft, “Shh,” against the shell of your ear, and you squirm in reply, but then she finds your clit and softly circles it, once, twice, and you go limp at the same time as she bites down on your neck to muffle a breathless, “Fuck.”

You share that sentiment. Her fingers feel nothing like Javi’s. They’re softer both in touch and pressure but combined with his three still buried deep inside of you, still fucking into you with wet, obscene noises, you feel like you’ve found Heaven on Earth. You’re close, every muscle in your body tenses, and you close your eyes with a deep groan.

Suddenly, Javi’s hand closes around your jaw and he pulls. “Look at me,” he demands. “I want to see you.”

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but then you see it. Javi is looking at you like he usually does, with amazement and want, but there is also a different edge to it, something between unrestrained lust and uninhibited pride, and something like adoration too, and he’s never looked at you like that before. It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come with a hoarse cry, tightening around his fingers, pushing him even deeper into you, and this time Katie has to hold you in place with a firm grip as he continues to fuck you with three wet fingers, fuck you through your orgasm, the muscles on his arm taut with the effort.

Only when you hiss and try to move away does he stop. He leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple as you shudder and try to catch your breath. Katie’s hand moves up to stroke across your stomach in lazy circles, while she presses small kisses along the underside of your jaw. You swallow hard and close your eyes – you have never, never, felt like this after an orgasm; you feel so open and vulnerable with both of them doting on you like this, but you also feel safe and secure. The only thing that’s missing is a feeling of deep satisfaction, and you might have an idea how to achieve that.

“You all right?”

It takes you a moment to realize Javi has addressed you, but once this information registers with you, you nod slowly. “Just give me a second,” you answer, your voice raw. You clear your throat and the movement stings.

Did you scream? You probably did but you don’t remember.

Javi relaxes, sits up, and carefully pulls out his fingers. You hadn’t even realized they were still inside of you, and you hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He only smirks at you, a lopsided grin that ignites another spark of desire deep in your belly.

“Lie down,” you tell him, your voice still hoarse and dry.

He looks at you, a question on his face.

“Come on,” you urge him, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you’re closer to him. “Lie down on your back.”

He does as he’s told, lying down on your right side next to Katie who’s still cuddled up to you, still trying to kiss your neck, your shoulders, anywhere she can reach. But your eyes are on Javi, and on the unreadable expression on his face. There is definitely some curiosity there, some inquisitiveness, and you haven’t forgotten – you haven’t forgotten about wanting to get back at him.

With a finger under Katie’s chin, you tilt her head up to kiss her, a slow kiss that quickly turns into something more. She grips your arm and holds on as you take your time with her, exploring her mouth, exploring all the ways you can make her sigh and whimper. By the time you pull away, she’s a quivering mess and you can’t blame her, especially not once you realize why her moans have grown louder and more desperate during the last few minutes.

Javi’s hand is between her thighs, and you see him move two fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace. This sight – his thick fingers, the same ones that were buried so deep inside of you only minutes ago, now coated in her slick – makes you bite back a moan that’s trying to force its way out of your chest. You lock eyes with Javi as he pushes a third finger into her and she drops her head onto your shoulder with a strangled sigh; there’s a challenge in his gaze, one you’re ready to accept.

You run your fingers through Katie’s hair and watch Javi continue what he’s doing, listen to the obscenely wet sounds his movements make, and whisper soothing words to the woman by your side, whisper to her how good she is for you, how well she’s taking it, how pretty she looks on display for you like that. You know Javi can hear you, you see his cock twitch when you ask, “Would you like him to taste you?” and her breathlessly replying, “Yes.”

Javi moves to get up, but you quickly put a stop to this by shaking your head. “No,” you say, “we’re doing this my way.”

Yes, there’s definitely curiosity in his gaze, but you also don’t think his eyes have ever been this dark before.

You softly kiss Katie again, then say, “Hey,” in the quietest voice you can muster, giving the circumstances. “Look at me.”

Katie opens her eyes and gazes at you, her brow knit tightly, her eyes glazed over with lust. The sight makes you bite your lip, and her gaze immediately flickers down to where your teeth dig into the soft flesh.

“Are you all right?” you ask her.

She nods slowly.

“If there’s something you don’t feel comfortable with, just tell me.”

She swallows and nods again. You have a feeling she wants to say something but doesn’t trust her voice.

You nod too. “Get up,” you say, giving the softness in your voice an edge to show her this isn’t up for debate.

Javi slowly pulls his fingers out of her and you see her thighs quiver at the loss. You help her into a kneeling position.

“He’s gonna taste you now, all right?” you ask, making sure everyone is on board with what’s going to happen next. “I’m going to take care of him, so I don’t want you to worry about that. But you’re going to look at me the whole time.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what you mean, and you hear Javi inhale sharply behind her. You let them find a position that is comfortable for them while you move to settle between Javi’s legs. His cock is an angry, red color and you cannot wait to feel the weight of it in your hand, to give him some of the relief he’s craving. He’s been so good for you – for the both of you –, he deserves to be taken care of. You let your eyes wander to the tip, to the drop of pre-cum that is inviting you to lean down and taste him, when you hear a deep groan vibrate through his entire body, so depraved and unrestrained it makes you look up.

Katie’s thighs are planted to the left and right of Javi’s head, his hands are digging into her soft flesh to spread them even further. Her head is thrown back in pure bliss as he licks up into her, holding her down so he can reach as much of her as possible. You’re completely mesmerized by the sight in front of you, by Javi’s face buried between another woman’s legs, by her arousal coating his chin, and it makes your own cunt clench with need. For a moment, just one brief moment, you consider abandoning your plan, taking him inside of you until you’re joined, connected, until nothing could pull you apart, and then fucking him until he spills inside you, moaning your name into Katie’s cunt.

But you don’t.

You take a deep breath, then wrap your hand around the base of Javi’s cock.

His moan of strained relief sends a jolt of pleasure through you.

You run your fingers up his length and swipe your thumb across the tip, collecting some of the pre-cum. As a response, he digs his nails deeper into Katie’s thighs and she cries out, a sound somewhere between pain and pleasure.

“He likes it rough, you know,” you say, circling the tip of his cock with your thumb lightly, casually, as if you were doodling a circle while talking to someone on the phone.

Katie’s eyes snap open and she looks at you, but you’re not sure she sees you. You don’t blame her. You’re well aware of what Javi can do with his tongue. You know what it feels like when he moans against your wet cunt, your swollen clit. In fact, you’re surprised Katie hasn’t come all over his face yet.

“Grab his neck,” you say, and cannot help but laugh lewdly when she immediately complies, her slender fingers closing around his strong, muscular throat. You watch as a vein at the base of his neck bulges, straining with effort, while he never once falters, while he continues to lick through Katie’s wet folds like she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. “Go on then,” you say, your hand closing around the base of his cock again and squeezing, “don’t be shy – fuck his face.”

The way Katie follows your orders immediately, without hesitation, without the flicker of a doubt on her face, makes pleasure shoot through your veins. You swallow hard at the sight of her rolling her hips almost leisurely, her fingers still wrapped around his throat for purchase, while he drinks her down without complaint, a dark flush creeping up his chest and neck.

You’ve teased him enough.

You pump his cock once, twice, before settling yourself so you can wrap an arm around his leg, running your fingers through his coarse, dark hair, and then you finally allow yourself to taste him. You suck the tip of him into your mouth, letting his taste burst on your tongue, appreciating it like you would appreciate expensive wine. You take him in deeper, his heaviness familiar against your tongue, his taste sharp and strong, and he rewards you with a deep, dark growl, with low moans, with clipped sighs. One of his hands find its way to the nape of your neck to push you down further, and you let him. He’s been patient enough – he’s allowed to take for a while.

But there’s something else, too, another noise, one you usually don’t hear when you do this: the wet sound of his tongue against Katie’s center, her quiet gasps mixed with his strained huffs. You can feel yourself get impossibly wet at hearing them, at hearing this ambient noise all around you, and you let out a moan of your own before hollowing your cheeks to take even more of him in your mouth until his tip brushes against the back of your throat and you feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes.

Javi lets out a low growl and pushes his hips up. You hold him down, try to restrain him, but his muscles tense, his breathing gets ragged and then ….

You hear it, a quiet gasp, and look up. Katie’s eyes are on you, her face is flushed, she looks like she’s burning up, and it takes you a moment to realize what is happening until you notice she’s stilled completely, and her hands have left Javi’s neck and are braced against his broad chest, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving angry marks. She’s coming, she’s coming all over his face, while he continues to lick her with the most obscenely wet sounds you’ve ever heard. She doesn’t even have time to call out or shout his name because she’s so overwhelmed, taken completely by surprise, and you are, too. All you can do is sit up and watch her, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face, as she comes completely undone without a single sound.

You don’t give her much time to catch her breath, neither of you do. With a firm grip, Javi pushes her off him and you immediately set the next step of your plan in motion.

“Do you want to return the favor?” you ask her.

Her eyes grow wide, and it feels like she’s unable to speak, but she nods eagerly. You can see her heartbeat, a quick pulsing in her neck, tempting you, and you lean forward to kiss it.

“Go on then,” you whisper against her skin.

You swap places; she settles herself between Javi’s legs and you lie down next to him. He looks like a mess. His chest is rising and falling rapidly like he’s just finished running a marathon. There are marks all over the skin, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes are glazed over, and his curls are damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. You run your fingers through them, trying to smooth them back. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, drawing your eyes lower to his mustache that’s impossibly darker.

The urge to kiss him becomes unbearable.

When you do, he doesn’t taste like himself. There is another taste mixed in there, one that is foreign to you, and you bite down on his lip possessively when you taste it. He lets out a low growl and bucks his hips, drawing your attention downwards.

Katie looks up at the both of you, tears in her eyes. She’s doing her best, but you know how it is, you know that Javi’s size can be overwhelming at first. You decide to help her, to make this as enjoyable as possible for both of them.

“He likes a firm hold at the base,” you say.

Katie’s fingers close around his cock in a firm grip and Javi hisses, his breath fanning across your neck.

“Good girl,” you praise. You don’t know where this is coming from, but Katie’s eyes flutter shut and Javi’s chest rumbles with a desperate purr and you know you’ve said the right thing. “Use your tongue more,” you continue, “and try to get out of your head … he likes it sloppy.”

Katie’s tongue darts out to lick along the underside of Javi’s cock, from base to tip, before she takes him in her mouth again, doing her best to hold him steady. She doesn’t break eye contact with you and it’s only when you nod encouragingly that she lets him fall from her mouth with a wet plop, a trail of spit connecting her to his tip.

“Yeah, that’s better,” you tell her. “Keep that up and he won’t last long.”

You turn your attention back to Javi who looks at you with eyes impossibly dark. If there was a source of light in the room, you’re sure you’d be able to see your reflection in them. You grip a tuft of hair at the top of his head and hold him in place.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask him, whispering the words into his ear, against his hot, flushed, sweat-slicked skin.

He nods, nothing more.

“I want to hear you say it,” you urge him on.

When he answers you with words, you hear why he was trying to communicate non-verbally. The “yes” he gives you is a hoarse, deep, desperate sound. You had no idea his voice could sound like this, could sound so wrecked, so taut, so pleading. You kiss him, and he kisses you back with such urgency, like a drowning man coming up for air.

You’re drunk, drunk on this power you have over him, drunk on being in charge of his pleasure while not even touching him, and you feel the desire to exploit this, to push him as far as he’ll let you without breaking him. You kiss him back, holding him in place with the fingers in his hair, while you listen to Katie moan around his cock. He moans, too, and his hips twitch, and you know he’s close, one fist tangled in the bedsheets, the other holding on to your arm.

“Katie, stop,” you say.

She does immediately, thinking there’s something wrong. Javi groans in frustration, his hips jerking upwards to chase that bit of friction from Katie’s hand still wrapped around him.

“Change of plans,” you tell them.

“No, please.”

You don’t recognize Javi’s voice. If you wouldn’t have seen his mouth move, you wouldn’t have known it was him who had just spoken.

“Please, querida.” He’s trying to convince you, he really is, knowing you usually can’t resist him when he calls you that, but you can, you have to this time.

“There’s something I want to try,” you tell him, letting your fingers run down his chest. “You said I could decide what we’re doing.”

“Yes, you can, but please …”

“If you do as I say …,” you say slowly, swallowing hard, “you can fuck me as hard as you want.”

He thinks this is hard for him, but it’s nothing compared to how hard this is for you. You’re sure you could come from hearing him say two more words in that voice of his. Luckily, he shuts his mouth and nods, determination on his face.

You sit up. “Katie, come here.” You beckon her close with a wave of your hand. “Lie down next to him.” Katie does as she’s told, glancing at Javi whose eyes are fixed on you. “Make sure his hands stay where you can see them. He’s not allowed to touch himself.”

“Yes,” Katie says, her voice hoarse.

You allow yourself to give her one kiss, just one, before you frame her chin with your thumb and index finger and turn her face so she’s looking at Javi. Where Javi’s skin is burning, Katie’s is cool to the touch when you let your hands run down her sides and over the taut plane of her stomach. She sucks in a quiet breath as you brush your fingers over her thighs, over the mound of hair between them, and then you touch her.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, at feeling her soft, warm, wet center. You run your fingers through her drenched folds, you listen to her gasps and whimpers, you hear Javi’s voice, too, but you can’t understand what he’s saying. And then, with a shallow breath, you push one finger into Katie. You feel her clench around you, you hear her whisper your name in surprise, but you’re too mesmerized by the sight of your digit vanishing between her folds to look at her.

You get it. You get it now. You know, you understand why Javi loves doing this to you.

When you add a second finger and pick up the pace, Katie moans loudly, but still not loud enough to drown out Javi’s aroused grunt. You finally lift your head to look at them both, at Javi, whose mouth hangs open, who has a look on his face like he’s trying to solve an unsolvable puzzle, and at Katie, who’s doing her best to keep her gaze on Javi, but whose eyelids flutter dangerously.

You shift positions and then your face is level with Katie’s weeping cunt. You pull out your fingers, grab her thighs in a tight grip, and give her one experimental lick, just a taste, just a sample. It’s so different from what Javi tastes like, it’s less heavy, less prominent. You try it again. And again.

Katie is a whimpering mess by now; one of her hands is resting against the top of your head; what the other one is doing, you don’t know. All you can focus on is the feeling of her against your tongue as you suck on her clit. That makes her scream, and you do it again, until her voice is hoarse.

Then you hear Javi. “You like that?” he asks, and you think he’s talking to you, but when you lift your eyes, you see he has Katie’s face in a tight grip, forcing her to look at you.

Katie nods.

“Tell her,” Javi demands, tightening his grip.

“Fuck,” Katie moans, and for you, this would have been enough, but not for Javi.

“You can do better than that,” he coos.

“It – you feel so good,” Katie tries. “God, I … more, please.”

“What do you need?” Javi asks. “Tell her.”

“Can I have … I just need … a finger,” Katie answers, her face and chest impossibly red, her expression open and vulnerable, her eyes glazed over. “I just want something to come on.”

You pull away for a second, a smirk on your face. “You can have two,” you say, before shoving two fingers inside her. You feel her tense around you, pulling you in deeper, and when you put your tongue back on her clit, she lets out the filthiest, most desperate moan you’ve heard her make all evening.

She didn’t moan like that when Javi was between her legs.

“Do you want to come?” you hear Javi ask her, and a strangled sound is the reply. “That good enough for you?” he asks you.

“No,” you say between licks.

“You heard her,” Javi goes on. “Try again.”

“Please …,” Katie whimpers. “I need to …”

You push your fingers impossibly deeper into her and she tightens around them with a hoarse scream, over and over, while you suck her clit into your mouth again with a filthy sound. She tries to pull away then, but you hold her in place with your free hand.

“No,” you say, your voice breathy. “Another one.”

Javi lets go of Katie’s face and shifts on the bed. Your eyes flicker to him, but he’s keeping his promise so far.

“Think you can do it?” he asks Katie.

“I don’t know,” she answers.

“You can,” you tell her. “Just keep an eye on him.”

You’re on thin ice, you know that. There’s only so far Javi will allow you to push him. But you feel drunk on the power you hold not only over him, but also over Katie. Her legs tremble when you drag your tongue through her wet folds again, her muscles twitch, and her hips push upwards. You hold her down, then repeat the movement with your tongue before pushing the tip of it into her. Katie’s head falls back with another loud moan, and this time you let her roll her hips against your mouth before pulling away.

The desperate whimper she makes cloaks your mind in a hazy, filthy mist of lust.

“Tell me, Katie,” you start, lazily pushing the tip of your finger into her, “who’s better? Me or him?”

You don’t look at her as you say it, you look at Javi. He holds your gaze, his expression unreadable, but there is something in his eyes, something that reminds you of a gathering storm.

“You,” Katie breathes out. “You, fuck!”

And then the storm breaks loose in Javi’s eyes. You see the lightning, hear the thunder, you feel the electricity prick at the back of your neck. You shouldn’t have asked Katie this question, you shouldn’t have provoked him like this, but here you are. There no taking it back now.

Even as you turn your attention back to Katie, even as you taste her cunt once more, you know he’s watching you. You feel his heated gaze, you feel something simmer just beneath the surface. As long has Katie moans and writhes beneath you, you’re safe. Javi won’t make his move. But as soon as Katie comes, you will have to pay.

And she does, eventually. She pushes her hips up, pressing your face against her with a firm grip at the back of your head, and you feel her come all over your tongue and chin with quiet shouts of pleasure.

Before you have time to collect yourself, before you have time to sit up or catch your breath, Javi is behind you. You don’t even see him move, you only realize he’s changed position when you feel the heat of his body against your back, when you feel his fingers on your sides, when you feel him slam into you. The sheer force of it pushes you up the bed until you’re right above Katie’s dazed face. You hold on for dear life, your fingers gripping the bedsheets, as Javi fucks you with so much force you can feel him everywhere. You don’t even have enough air left in your lungs to cry out, all you can hear is his skin against yours and his low grunts as he’s finally taking what you’ve denied him for so long. There is nothing you can do but let him.

You know you won’t last long, neither of you will. But when you feel Katie’s fingers against your clit, when you look into her eyes and see her bite her lip in concentration, it’s too much. The contrast between Javi fucking you at a punishing pace and Katie’s soft touch, almost like a caress, loosens something within you before your entire body tenses up. Something is happening to you that you cannot quite explain. You feel yourself grow unbelievably wet, so wet Javi slips out of you completely for a second but pulls you back onto him with a rough tug, and then you hear Katie moan out a low, “Shit”. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, feeling wrung out yet taut at the same time. It’s so overwhelming you feel like you’re about to explode, like you cannot keep going, but they don’t stop. Javi has an arm slung around your stomach as he holds you in place, Katie has your hip in a firm grip while she circles your clit with a movement that’s enough to keep you on edge but not push you over it. Javi has grown completely quiet, and you know exactly why; you know what his face looks like even though you can’t see him, you know he’s about to come from the way his muscles twitch against your back. But you don’t know if you can give him what he wants, if you can come on his cock buried deep inside you, his cock that sends jolt after jolt of rough pleasure through you. You’re too overwhelmed, you won’t be able to let go.

But then, your face still buried in Katie’s neck, you hear her say, “Come for us,” and that’s all it takes. You do, your muscles closing around Javi’s cock like a vise, while you bite down on the soft skin of Katie’s shoulder, trying to muffle the scream that tears itself from an undiscovered place within you, so well hidden, so deeply buried you had no idea it existed. And while you feel wave over wave of pleasure rush through you, you also feel Javi flood you in wave over wave of hot release, his body completely still, holding you in place until he’s done.

He pulls out of you with a wet sound, and you immediately sink down next to Katie, spent and exhausted and more tired than you’ve ever felt in your life. Katie kisses your cheek, your temple, your lips, anywhere she can reach, while Javi gets a wet cloth from the bathroom to clean you up. The second to last thing you remember is Javi joining you on the bed again, his strong arms wrapping around you, whispering soothing words.

The last thing you remember is taking Katie’s hand into yours and saying, “Stay.”

***

It’s early morning, the street outside Javi’s flat is still quiet, and you yawn as you lean against his arm, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?” you ask Katie as you watch her put on her shoes.

“Thank you, but I have a lot of work to catch up on,” she rejects your offer again with a smile. “Another time maybe?”

“Do you want to grab coffee sometime?” you ask her.

“Sure!” she exclaims excitedly. “Anytime.”

“I’ll give you a call, okay?”

She nods, then pulls you away from Javi and into a tight hug. “It was lovely meeting you,” she says, her arms still slung around you. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” you say, before pulling away.

Katie turns her attention to Javi. “Thank you,” she says. For what exactly, she doesn’t reveal.

Javi, his hair still messy from sleep, wearing nothing but an old pair of boxers, looking exhausted and tired, still manages to smile at her. He leans down and presses a kiss against her cheek. She presses a kiss against his lips.

“See you,” she says, meaning both of you.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #agent peña x reader #agent peña x you #javier peña x reader x katie #javier peña x you x katie #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #i know this is long it was supposed to be 5k max #never in my life was i this nervous about posting something #i'm just idk a soft bitch or something

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bleulone · 3 years

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i love your analysis so much! i have a question as well, like, how do you envision polin's sex scenes ? thanks for your answer (:

Hey! Thank you very much :)) I have no idea if they are that even good but I’m happy you like them. It’s just my brain tending to produce some iNsIGhiTfUL analyses though they usually end up drowned under a huge wave of stupidity and horrid spelling/grammatical mistakes XD. So, about Penelope and Colin’ sex scenes, I guess we’re getting spicy in this house 🌶. I mean, I don’t blame you. Who’s not hot for Polin ?! The steamy Polin hours have already begun and they’re legit challenging my patience. (Be still my Polin heart, be still).

Okay, without further ado, let’s talk about sex baby, shall we ? It’s a pretty long answer/meta so bear with me.

I don’t know if you’ve read Romancing Mister Bridgerton, but a quick reminder (for those who haven’t... yet), there are a bunch of iconic steamy scenes that I’m dying to watch on screen. First we have the famous “thank you” scene where Penelope, now a 28 year-old spinster, asks Colin to kiss her because she doesn’t want to die without having been kissed... then ends up thanking him— which happens to be humiliating for our 33 year-old boy because he thinks that she thinks he did it out of pity while he absolutely did not. The man definitely felt butterflies in his stomach... and in other places as well lol. We also have the ICONIC carriage scene where Colin gives Pen’s generous bosoms™ the attention they deserve. This is followed by his proposal. Later on, after the announcement of their engagement, there’s a pretty hot make-out scene on Lady Violet’s sofa. Finally, we have their first time in Colin’s bedroom, after sneaking out of their own engagement party... which leads Colin to push the wedding date forward. At this point, I just love their horniness, especially Colin’s who’s just so freaking amazed by Penelope for more than 300 pages straight (duh! who isn’t ???).

When you say envision, I suppose you mainly refer to the way those scenes will be filmed right ? I’m afraid I don’t have an advanced knowledge in film-making but let me start by telling you what elements need to be depicted. I would love Shonda and Chris to capture the real essence of our boos’ feelings : the yearning, the love, the respect and the guilt (specifically on Colin’s side) in their eyes. The more we move forward throughout the seasons, the more we see different layers of the perceptions of they have of each other, going from a childish idealization/immature ignorance to a sudden realization. A mature one. Penelope goes beyond the facade of the charming devil-may-care guy to meet the seriousness and temper of her significant other. Meanwhile Colin discovers how confident, powerful and attractive this woman is and always has been. It echoes what I’ve written about the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story in this meta. By the time season 4 hits, man... their heart eyes and eye-fucking will jump OUT XD, all fibers of their beings, burning with need. The fact that this evolution took literally years is very emotionally painful, which is why I find it important to keep the slowness aspect of their relationship before and during their love making. I’m really looking forward a slow build-up toward their intimacy. It would differ from Daphne and Simon who merely shared one hell of a kiss in Lady Trowbridge’s garden then shared their sexy times after they married or Anthony and Siena’s rough sex... In fact, there’s a certain (sweet) ardent tenderness in Polin I like due to the fact that they’re slowly (re)discovering each other, as adults. Since they were both introduced in season 1, the audience will have all the time in the world to notice numerous evidences of the many natures of love they have for one another : from an affectionate and friendly love to a more carnal and enduring one.

Okay so, in terms of filming, with Netflix’s Bridgerton being a show which promotes the female gaze, it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise watching those sex scenes being shot from Penelope’s perspective, like it was the case with Daphne in the first installment of the series. Most of the time, sex scenes in Historical Romance are not gratuitous. Their presence serve an important purpose in a hero/heroine’s journey. In Penelope’s case, they’re here to help her learn to embrace and love herself. In other words, sexuality is synonym of freedom. I don’t know if they’ll show a lot of skin, but I won’t be complaining considering the fact that we’ll have the chance to get a chief kiss treat on screen : a plus size woman in a major successful Netflix period drama getting a love story as romantic and steamy as other more “fit” female characters. No, your weight doesn’t prevent you from being desirable at all. As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t watched a plus-size female character portrayed as an attractive protagonist in a period drama (please if you have, let me know, I can be wrong). Having a beautiful half bare curvy body like Nicola’s being equally filmed like numerous slim actresses will be so inspiring and powerful to watch, especially for (young) women who struggle, like Penelope, to love their body shape which, to them, doesn’t “fit” the “beauty standards”. By showing her female gaze and portraying her as seductive, Pen’s “supposed” imperfections transform themselves into mighty assets, loved and worshipped by our dashing Mister Bridgerton. That’s body positivity at its finest darling ;).

It will be deliciously erotic watching the undressing process being exquisitely slow, garment by garment, while their gaze are all heated and hungry. Their sex/make-out scenes should be tender and passionate, sweet and raw. The lightning, colored by a dark blood orange yellow or a blue depending the locations^^. Moreover, the depiction of the exploration of Penelope’s desire can translate itself thanks to multiple close ups. For instance, I can imagine a few ones on Pen’s fingers gently roaming over the smooth skin of Colin’s firm chest and back/touching his hair right after he removed his shirt. And a disheveled Colin letting his hands and lips making a journey of their own, mapping, conquering the alluring unknown territory that is her gorgeous voluptuous body... kissing her on the places he knows oh too well will give her pleasure (is this me wanting him to go down on her?— um yeah I sure hope it IS! If he doesn’t, trust me imma riot... AGAIN). Even a close up on her face while Colin is performing his addictively pleasing torment will be a marvelous proof of the female gaze. By the way, why not even adding a post-coital scene after their first time ? I can picture Penelope waking up first and contemplate her handsome soon-to-be husband. She’d bring her hand to his face and let it travel all around his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his neck and let it rest on his heart— making sure that what she’s just experience was real... obviously, Colin will wake up in the process and he’ll take this as his cue to go for another round of sexy times under the sheets.

Showing Pen reaction is essential according to me because she was stuck with the idea that she would never experience the luxury of being loved, giving pleasure nor receiving it... she ended up being happily wrong. Throughout her multiple intimate encounters with Colin, I want her to progressively realizes that she can be an active partner. In the carriage, she knew she had an effect on him, but it’s not until their first time that she actually realizes it. Hence the reason why I WANT the mirror’s introduction in one of their sex scenes. Here’s as a little reminder an excerpt from chapter 18 :

“I want to see you sitting up," he groaned, "so I can see them full and lovely and large [about Pen’s breasts]. And then I want to crawl behind you and cup you." His lips found her ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I want to do it in front of a mirror."

“Now?” she squeaked.

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "Later," he said, and then repeated it in a rather resolute tone. "Later.”

It would be such a shame if the show doesn’t use the incredible potential of this object (/kink). I mean, the symbolism is pretty clear. Penelope has always fled her “ugly” reflection but it seems like Colin wants to show the real her, the beauty that holds every single inch her alabaster skin and the effects they have on him. Thus, I would love to watch a scene where Colin just praises the alluring goddess and siren that is Penelope Featherington. Just imagine! Just IMAGINE the power of this scene : a shirtless Colin sitting behind her on a bed, meeting her gaze in the mirror, his lips touching her right ear, biting and licking the lobe sometimes, whispering all kinda of dirty yet poetic words to her while letting his hands caress her thighs, her hips, her arms, her lovely bosoms™... oof. At the same time, a wonderful and harmonic instrumental music will play in the background and match the melodic partition of shudders, breathes and moans let out by our lovers. I can imagine Luke inspiring himself from his performance in the 2019 short film, Youth In Bed. The way he conveyed the awe and the yearning on his face, in his eyes with his mouth slightly open when he knelt before his partner Shun Yin was just captivating and— and so Colin! I cannot help but bring myself to picture Ethan, the character he played in YIB, in a Polin steamy scene. I cannot unsee this anymore jsksk. I mean, all this gifset radiates this book4chapter18!Colin, you cannot tell me otherwise!

Also, I would love Shonda and Chris to keep Pen and Colin’s cute/emotional pillow talk. One thing I really love in JQ’s books is the concern she gives to her male protagonists about potentially hurting their partner during the act of penetration. Colin is a rake, and what his experience with women taught him is that he needs to be very gentle with the love of his life. It was so adorable seeing him not wanting to harm her and asking her to tell him if he does anything she doesn’t like 🥺. Plus, before actually doing it, Colin and Penelope shared a few kisses and just laid down side by side, confessing their love. Though our boy kept feeling guilty about not returning her love after all these years. He desires nothing but to make up for the lost time and show his love and desire during this special intimate moment. I hope they’ll keep all of chapter 18’s dialogue. It’s just so telling of our boos’ feelings, you see.

All in all, I can’t wait to watch those Polin steamy scenes. As much as I may sound crazy, I want them after two other seasons of pure pining and yearning in order to have a very good payoff. I’m not an expert on depicting intimacy on screen, but I loved so far what Lizzy Talbot, the intimacy coordinator who worked on the show, have done in season 1. Sex scenes in Bridgerton seem very real and dive you in the intimacy of the moment, leaving you all flustered and hot. So probs to her! I have faith in her work and have no doubts about what her and the directors will serve us in future seasons. Though, in the end, I think it’s mostly up to the actors, Nicola and Luke, to see if they’re comfortable filming sex scenes.

If you guys have any suggestions or wishes for those steamy polin scenes, please do share them :) by commenting on this post or by sending me asks! I’d love reading your thoughts/take on this very important matter ;))

#bleulone answers #meta and gush #polin #colin x penelope #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin meta #ask #anon #luke newton #julia quinn #nicola coughlan

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himbeaux-on-ice · 3 years

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Who are your top five NHL teams and why?

Ooooo this is fun! Thanks anon!

Short list:

Habs ❤️🤍💙

Pens 🐧

Canucks 🌈🌊

Caps 🦅

Leafs 🟦🍁🟦 (no really! I know I don’t talk about them much but its true!)

Over-wordy explanations/backstory for my relationship to each of these teams below the cut for those interested!

Montreal Canadiens. My dearly beloved Nana, who half-raised me, is a lifelong diehard Habs fan who grew up listening to their games on the radio and then later as an adult watching them duel with the Leafs on Saturday nights on a black-and-white tv (also a BIG Carey Price stan). Needless to say she rubbed off on me immensely, and I remember saying to myself at some point “well, if that’s Nana’s team, that’s gonna be my team too” and it stuck for life. I also had a friend in middle school who was a RELIGIOUS Habs fan who also worshipped at the altar of Jesus Price in those early 2010’s, so I heard a LOT about all of that every lunch break as he argued with friends who were Pens and Bruins fans lol. We went on the Bell Centre tour during the annual 9th grade French class trip to Quebec, and while I was mostly focused on getting to the gift shop to buy Nana a souvenir, I swear my friend’s eyes were the size of quarters the whole time lmao. (Would LOVE to go back now that I care a lot). Basically the Habs are the closest thing to a local NHL team our region has bc we get their broadcasts (though people choose their own team allegiances for various random personal reasons), and I grew up absorbing through osmosis both the legends of yore and the latest updates on whatever Carey and PK and the lads were up to. (Also I’ve been quietly in love with Price myself since at least the 2014 Olympics lol. My first best fav ❤️) Bottom line the Habs are My Team, the “I’m gonna be here even when it sucks, even when players move on, this is attached to me in a way I can’t quite explain” team that every hockey fan has in their heart. GO HABS GO!

Pittsburgh Penguins. If you were an elementary school kid in Nova Scotia when Sidney Crosby was first released and up through the 2010’s, you had two options: love him, or hate him, but you better accept you’re gonna be hearing about him a LOT. I settled on “vague fondness” and followed Sid from a newspaper-scanning distance and vaguely rooted for him because when he brought the Cup home it felt like we all won. And like I said, lots of passionate Pens fans in my grade school classes to hear from (he’s also the only non-Habs player my Nana likes lol). Then I got into hockey properly last year and learned about Geno beyond just knowing his name, and my chronic affection for large loveable Russians got combined with my longstanding vague “I hope the Penguins win” feelings and my “time to get the full story on the Sidney Crosby’s Penguins narrative I only ever watched from a distance” research, in a manner not unlike the creation of the PowerPuff Girls ([chemical X] etc etc lol) to create a potent adoration for this team that rocketed them to second place in my heart. Also the fandom is just so damn fun and makes such great content, and that definitely feeds my level of engagement with the Pens!! Sometimes, when I want an emotional pick-me-up I watch one of their last 3 championship films just to remember what joy and optimism is — I would love to be present as a real-time fan for another adventure like that. With how much I know about them and how much I care, they’re my #2 for sure. I love those flightless fucks!!

Vancouver Canucks. So I started watching live NHL hockey games last summer around I think game 2 of the Habs’ first round series against the Flyers (I saw Price’s “Miracle Save” on twitter while following along bc I was intrigued by the fact that they made it through the play-ins, and was like “OKAY NOW I GOTTA SEE THIS SHIT LIVE”). That was really fun! Riiiight up until the Habs got eliminated. :/ And I was like “well, shit. I’m enjoying this hockey thing too much to stop now. who else is still around I can root for?” And the Canucks were the last Canadian team still in it, and there was buzz about their miraculous first-round win but also uncertainty I believe Markstrom had *just* got injured. So I started watching, ended up witnessing the Bubble Demko Miracle unfold live, had my heart charmed off me by “whatever the hell those two lil blonde bitches have going on” and a delightful underdog story, and here I am. Hitched to the Canuck wagon whether I enjoy it or not. Here for whatever happens! (Doesn’t hurt that I love me some Elton John too 😉)

Washington Capitals. I’m a person who is more likely to be really engaged with a team that has super interesting personalities, characters, and narratives around it — and my GOD are the Capitals good for that. I absolutely definitely started down this road with that mic’d up video from the 2018 final of Ovi telling Nicke “after me, I give it to you baby!” re: the Cup. Like I can pinpoint that there was a day I saw that for the first time in a gifset, squinted at the screen, said “you’re fucking with me...”, went to youtube, watched it be for reals, and was like “well. now I need to know more about ALL this.” After watching games and learning more about the team, I really enjoy the Caps’ “big dumb found family of stone-cold total weirdos” energy, their fun collective chemistry, their Cup story, etc. And oh BOY the fandom is fun during game lb’s! I love all the in-jokes and player nicknames, our delight with the quirks of our colourful wonderful broadcast crew (shoutout Wine Uncles & Co), the way we cheer for record-breaking milestones like they’re a first NHL goal! Being a fan of the Caps AND the Pens can be a bit awkward sometimes, and the team certainly has its blemishes, but my heart is big enough for two Metro teams for sure, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Toronto Maple Leafs. So like, as you can imagine from my previously described upbringing in Hab Land, “haha Leafs suck” is a punchline I have long been familiar with and trained to recite. I got a solid 3 days of laughter and entertainment out of the whole Zamboni Driver Saga last February, oh boy did I ever. But the thing is.... I have the Leafs to thank for the fact that I watch hockey now. See, the entire reason I started paying proper attention to the playoff bubble last summer was because one day, I happened to see the phrase “WHAT IS HAPPENING” trending at 16k tweets on twitter, and clicked on it like “huh?”. Turns out the Leafs were in the middle of their miraculous 3-minute comeback against Columbus and the country was losing its mind. And when they won, I was like “huh... the Zamboni Team is doing THIS??? I may have to start paying attention to this playoffs thing, because if they go All The Way I think that might be the only thing funnier than the Zamboni Incident”. Aaaaand when they immediately lost the next game and were eliminated I was like “lol, sounds about right” and was then immediately distracted by news of the Habs winning the play-in round. So then I spent several months watching playoffs and forgetting about the Leafs. And then one day in early October, looking on YouTube for more hockey to watch after the playoffs ended, I stumbled across something called a Hat Pick, and boy I actually enjoyed this shouty man’s sense of humour and takes on the game... and then when I ran out of Hat Picks and Dangits I watched some Trade Trees, which pulled back the curtain on the business side of the game... and then I discovered LFR’s, which were good background noise for doing tasks... and then I was recommended the episode of the Steve Dangle Podcast about Mitch Marner and The List... and next thing I knew I was listening to more of this podcast, because I found Steve and the guys to be insightful and funny and there was no hockey to watch, and I was trepidatious about accidentally stumbling into the more toxic corners of hockey fandom if I branched out for other content... and, well. If you spend enough hours listening to people passionately analyze every facet of a team, shout and cheer over a team, make fun of that team, nearly cry over that team... it’s really REALLY hard to not start to care about it. Leafs analysis was basically how I learned most of what I’ve learned about hockey this past year! And kudos to Steve and Adam and Jesse, their passionate investment in the Leafs and great content has got ME invested in the Leafs mainly because I want to see things go well for them. I want Charlie Brown to kick the football! I love a triumph over adversity story! Also, I think if the Leafs did Do The Thing it would basically be the combination of “Cubs win the World Series” and “Raptors are the champs” and I wanna watch the city of Toronto go fully apeshit from a safe distance. I don’t adore many their individual players as much as I do some other teams higher on this list, and I still laugh far too much when things go super comically impossibly badly for them, but I am actually pulling for the Leafs!! I want to see it all pay off for them. I want them to go all the way. Gimme that “LEAFS WIN!!!” (Unless it’s against someone above them on this list lol)

#if u get the joke in the Canucks emojis bless u #long post #asks #anon #actually I would root Leafs in a TOR vs WSH playoff series but it would break my heart to do so lol #Washington has a Cup already ya know?

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botherkupo · 3 years

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I can't thank you enough for the Healer gifsets you posted! I was hooked from the gifsets alone, but then I binged (as fast as a mom with littles can binge, which isn't as fast as my shippy heart wanted to) and OMG how I wish there was more. I want a whole damn sequel series that's just them being cute together and sometimes doing a little crime as a treat. I need 5,000 more close ups of hand-holding and 10,000 more sleeping peacefully together shots. Also for another series with those leads!

OMG YESSSSSS!

Healer was such a good show. I always looked forward to the evenings so I could watch an episode, and every time I’d be like “just one more episode … okay one more … it’s midnight but another one can’t hurt …” 😂

I really really loved how hand touches were such a huge focus. And the soft looks. And the humour. And the hurt/comfort

Ahhhhh I’m so glad you sent this ask so I can scream about it again lol

Also, if you haven’t seen Suspicious Partner, I highly recommend it. It’s the same guy but a different actress, and they have amazing chemistry

(Oh and I just watched The K2 - also same actor - and while I enjoyed it overall because the plot itself was interesting, I didn’t really like the romance. The girl actually really annoyed me. So yeah, don’t super recommend but it’s still interesting if you like political/action stuff)

#kdrama #healer #anon #I’m always open to recommendations #or you can ask for recommendations #I watch a lot of kdramas lol #currently watching another miss oh

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lopithecusfanfiction · 4 years

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Are We All We Are?

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rating: Teen+ Word Count: 2448 Alternate: AO3 Summary: Eddie has never actually found anyone as "hot" or "sexy." In fact, he doesn't even really understand what those terms, when directed towards another human being, mean. He knows there is something wrong with him because of this. So, when Buck starts to catch on, he might or might not panic just a little.

Thankfully, Buck knows what the hell is going on and not only helps Eddie in his self-discovery, but also reassures Eddie that he accepts him no matter what. Warnings:

Asexual Character

Asexual Eddie

Ace Eddie

Introspection

Some thoughts on sexual attraction, sex, and Eddie's past and current relationship

Written by an asexual writer (I think that's important to note)

Established Relationship

Self-Discovery

Author's Note: So, I’m asexual, I’ve already written a fic that implied demisexual Eddie, and then I saw this gifset by @maysgrant (prev. asgardiun) that was requested by @judsonryder (so I’m going to tag you too), and so the next logical step was to write a fic with asexual Eddie! Also, I felt this fitting considering it’s Pride Month! I hope you all enjoy! (Title from Pink)

Eddie thinks Buck is handsome. He thought Shannon was pretty. He loved Shannon, or at least he did at some point. He loves Buck more than he can ever properly express. He wants to do a lot of things with Buck just like he made a family, or tried to make a family, with Shannon. He wants to get it right with Buck when he couldn’t with Shannon. Whatever went wrong in his relationship with Shannon, he doesn’t want that to happen with Buck. So he tries harder.

But like with Shannon there still seems to be something missing in his relationship with Buck. It’s not that he’s not happy, he is. Eddie is happier than he has in a long time. They cuddle on the couch and watch movies with Christopher snuggled in a ball of blankets on the floor, half passed out from the long day he’s had. He and Buck will snuggle up in bed and hold each other, and Buck will make Eddie feel safe just like he hopes he makes Buck feel the same. They go on dates and always have each other’s back when out on a call.

It’s everything that didn’t happen with him and Shannon.

Still, he knows it’s weird that he never thinks about Buck in a sexual way or that it’s almost always Buck who suggests they have sex. He knows there’s something wrong when his focus is entirely on Buck’s pleasure, which he enjoys, but would rather have Buck not touch him. Or, when he is feeling aroused due to physical stimulation — never sexual thoughts, even when he forces himself to try and think of Buck that way but only ends up confused as to why he has no interest in those thoughts — he’s not really into it and he just wants to get his own pleasure done and over with so they can move onto the snuggling part. Eddie knows there is something wrong with him when he can’t confidently say his boyfriend is looking hot or, the worse one of them all, sexy .

He knows this.

He knew this when it happened with Shannon.

He knew this when even after Shannon left him, he never slept with another person until Shannon came back.

And he still knows this even when he’s now dating Buck.

Eddie has always had a complicated relationship with sex. It makes him feel good but he is never really into it. He used to have sex with Shannon because he thought that’s what you were supposed to do. He was her boyfriend and then fiance and then husband. Sex just came with the role, how you made a family, and the glue that kept everything together, even in a relationship that was clearly falling apart. Plus, he’s a man, and men are supposed to be all about sex.

Except Eddie isn’t.

He’s always felt like sex was some kind of chore that he had to do in a relationship, that it was the human way of showing someone that you love them.

It’s expected.

Especially since, in Eddie’s case, he’s not exactly that great with words. It’s difficult for him to tell someone, “I love you” so he usually resorts to what he knows best in showing affection.

Sex.

He makes sure that Buck feels good, peppers him in kisses, and snuggles and moves his hands around his body sensually. Buck is his priority in this situation and Buck likes the build-up. Eddie couldn’t care less what he gets out of it and sometimes even prefers not getting anything out of it. Sometimes, it’s even difficult to get aroused by the whole thing in first place and he knows that his tired excuse will only go so far and for so long.

When it comes to the actual sex, it gets a bit more tricky. He goes through the motions, replaying what he knows Buck likes, never changing it up and Buck makes sure he feels good too when Eddie can actually manage to get through it. Only, when it always does happen, it almost always feels a little lackluster for Eddie.

So he fakes it.

He fakes the withering, the moaning, the enjoyment of sucking Buck off even though he really doesn’t like it and could do without it. But Buck likes it and Buck likes the noises he makes when it’s Buck’s turn to make him feel good. And when it’s finally time for him to reach the climax, he fakes that too.

Sure, he feels the pleasure from it but it’s never spectacular and nothing he thinks he would get addicted to. It was the same with Shannon. He enjoyed making her get off, watching her enjoying herself, more than him enjoying it and with Buck, he’s the same. He loves seeing Buck pant and hear him say his name and cry into his fist when he finally reaches that peak.

It’s a little fascinating and he sometimes finds himself wondering how it must feel. But at the same time, he can’t be bothered to care much.

If Eddie is completely honest with himself, he could live without sex in a relationship. He’d much rather have the cuddles, or the dates, or snuggling up under the warm covers. He doesn’t see the need to have sex so often if ever at all. But he’ll never admit that out loud because that means something is wrong with him.

That he’s broken somehow.

That’s why, when Buck abruptly stops kissing his neck and pulls his hands from out from under Eddie’s shirt, he panics a little. Buck is looking at him strangely and Eddie’s heart starts to beat fast in his chest. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Mentally going over everything he’s done up to this point, he tries to pinpoint the moment Buck realized that something was damaged inside Eddie.

“You don’t want this, do you?” Buck sits up, sitting on his calves.

“What?” Eddie sits up too, trying to desperately repair this. Sex was supposed to be what kept the relationship alive. He can’t lose it just because he’s a little broken. “Of course, I do.”

“Eddie, you’ve never really been into this.”

“No!”

Buck sighs and stands, pulling his shirt back on and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. Shannon always went with it, even if she had her doubts about Eddie’s own enjoyment. “I want you to be honest with me, Eddie.”

Eddie panics, stands as well, and follows Buck out into the living room. He doesn’t want to lose Buck, this relationship. “I am.”

“Okay,” Buck turns to him, throws his hands out. “Are you attracted to me?”

“Yes,” Eddie says because he is. Buck is handsome and adorable and he loves him so much his heart might break.

Buck is shaking his head. “I’m not talking about if I look good to you. I’m talking about whether or not you think I’m hot, sexy.”

Eddie draws a blank. He’s never really understood those terms. He doesn’t know what hot and sexy mean, has never really related to them. They make him uncomfortable and he knows they are supposed to pertain to sex but he just doesn’t get it. “Y-yes,” he lies because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Buck’s lips thin and Eddie knows Buck knows he just lied to him. “Do you want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Yes,” Eddie says firmly, more confidently because he does. He loves Buck. He loves him with everything he’s got.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Eddie hesitates, swallows. “Yes?” He really didn’t mean for that to come out as a question. Buck sighs again, slumping. “Why does it matter? You want to have sex with me so we have sex.”

“Eddie…” another heavy sigh. “I want both of us to enjoy it.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Eddie looks to the floor, feeling shame pushing on his chest. This is the part where Buck will tell Eddie just how broken and messed up he is and how he needs to get himself fixed. “Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell? At first, I thought it was because you’ve never been with a man before but you should be used to it by now, Eddie.”

“No,” Eddie says quickly, looking back up at Buck who is looking nothing short of hurt. “No, it was the same with Shannon.”

“Oh.” Buck’s tone changes completely as if something has just occurred to him. As if Eddie’s frantic and desperate declaration of how shattered his relationship with Shannon was because of him made Buck come to a realization. “So, you’ve never really been interested in sex? Or really been sexually attracted to someone?”

Eddie shuffles on his feet, looking to the floor again. He shrugs. “I…” He peers at Buck again, “You’re good looking, you are and I can see that, but I… I’m not sure what it feels like to want to jump into bed with a person just because they’re handsome or pretty.”

“But not sexy or hot?”

“I don’t even understand what those mean,” Eddie says, frustrated. “What is hot and what is sexy? I know it has to do with wanting to have sex with someone but… I just don’t… get it.” This time Eddie sighs. “I’m sorry. I know there’s something wrong with me to make me like this but-”

“No, Eddie.” Buck walks up to him, grabs his hands, and squeezes them reassuringly. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

“Buck, I’m not attracted to my boyfriend in a sexual way. There’s definitely something wrong with me.”

Buck chuckles and guides them down onto the couch. He never lets go of Eddie’s hands. “Eddie, have you ever heard of Asexuality?”

“No.”

“I thought so. Here.” Buck pulls over Eddie’s laptop that had been sitting on the coffee table, turns it on, pulls up the web browser, and types in Asexual into the search engine. He then hands it over to Eddie. “Read up on it while I go get supper started.” Getting up, Buck leaves him to it.

Eddie does read up on it, clicking on multiple links and reading so many articles his head hurts. He finds a forum and reads about other people’s experiences, and maybe some of it does seem to relate to him. Or, really, a lot of it relates to him. Acknowledging that doesn’t necessarily lift the weight off his chest, he probably has a ways to go before he can completely accept this part of himself, but it’s a start. So he bookmarks a couple of websites and the forum after making an account — not that he would ever actually talk on it but some people have hidden their stories from people not logged in and Eddie is in deep now.

“So?” Buck comes to sit down next to him on the couch. He sits close, slightly angled in Eddie’s direction, and their knees touch. “What do you think?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not trying to push some label onto you Eddie, but I do want you to be comfortable with yourself and understand yourself and maybe someday, accept yourself,” Buck gives him an encouraging smile. “And, Eddie, asexual or not, if you don’t want to have sex with me anymore, I’m fine with that.”

Eddie huffs. “Really?” Buck tilts his head in question. “I’m not saying I don’t want to have sex with you but depending on how long this relationship lasts, that could mean months, years, longer… You sure you could do that?”

Buck holds up a finger. “First off, our relationship is going to last for the rest of our lives.”

“Careful what you say. Our lives could be very short in our line of work.”

“Don’t even say that,” Buck chastises and Eddie shuts up. “Secondly, I do have two very capable hands and it gives me an excuse to visit a sex shop and do some shopping.” Eddie scowls in disgust and Buck chuckles at his reaction. “No, but seriously, Eddie, I want you to be comfortable and if that means no sex, then we don’t have sex.”

Eddie contemplates it. It’s not like he’s sex-repulsed like some other people who are asexual have said — and he doesn’t think there is anything wrong with those people, now that he’s read up on the sexuality a bit more, but it’s not something he relates to.

Eddie shrugs again and glances at Buck, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Maybe we could have just… less of it?”

“Yeah,” Buck doesn’t even hesitate to agree to it. “But Eddie, just know, that if you ever just want to stop having sex in this relationship forever, then I’m okay with that. You’re not going to lose me over this. Masturbating can actually be quite fun and feel really good. After all,” Buck’s smile is wide and teasing. “No one knows what you like the most better than yourself.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Sorry, Buck, can’t really relate.”

“So you’ve never even masturbated before?” Buck sounds almost fascinated.

“I mean, I’ve tried but it’s always taken too much energy, too much effort, and the end results aren’t worth it,” he answers. Buck is looking unfazed by his words and he can’t even express how grateful he is of Buck’s reaction. “You know, when Shannon left, I didn’t sleep with anyone for two years before she came back. I thought I was just being loyal because I was still married to her.” He shakes his head. “Now I realize I just… didn’t have the interest.”

“You know that’s okay?” Buck has turned serious again. “There are millions of people out there that are also asexual, Eddie.” He shrugs. “If that’s what you decide you are.”

Eddie chuckles humorlessly. “And here I thought the only thing I had to stress about was liking other men.” Then, he looks at Buck hesitantly. “So you don’t mind that I’m not sexually attracted to you? That I don’t find you ‘sexy’ per se?”

“It really doesn’t, Eddie. I know you love me.” Buck reaches over, puts a hand on his knee. “You’ve got my support.”

Eddie puts his hand on Buck’s and intertwines their fingers. “You don’t know how much that means to me, Buck.”

“Eddie,” Buck scoots closer, pulls him in tight against his side and Eddie lays his head down on Buck’s shoulder. “I’ll always support and accept you. I’ve got your back, remember?”

Eddie smiles, turning his face into Buck’s neck to hide the redness that is appearing from being overwhelmed. “Thank you, Buck.”

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! I rated it “T” because of the sex introspection. Also, I’m really loving the idea of ace Eddie! Although, I’m going to admit, despite being ace myself, I was a little nervous about writing this and possibly misrepresenting the ace community. Go figure!

I actually am sex-repulsed myself (at least when it comes to sex and my body) so I based Eddie’s thoughts about sex off things I’ve heard other sex indifferent aces say. His thoughts on the words “hot” and “sexy” are actually my thoughts. I really don’t understand what makes someone “hot” and “sexy.” It confuses me greatly.

Anyway! Thank you all for reading this! Let me know if you like the idea of asexual Eddie!

#Buddie #911 #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #stiilesstilinski #911 on Fox #Buck #Asexual Eddie #Ace Eddie #Are We All We Are?#My Fanfiction

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softlass27 · 4 years

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Robert Week 2020 Day 3: Family A family dinner goes awry when revelations about the Sugden brothers' past come to light.

FYI, this is set in a slightly AU version of husbands era where Andy returned at some point and is living in Emmerdale again (I brought Adam back too, because why not).

Also, this fic refers to an old storyline that I must have watched but have no real memory of, considering how long ago it aired. So I've had to rely on gifsets and the Emmerdale Wiki, which you can see here:

https://emmerdale.fandom.com/wiki/Stephen_Butler https://isabellaofparma.tumblr.com/post/176241877331 https://robsugdens.tumblr.com/post/176241303211/i-didnt-have-it-easy

On a warm Saturday evening in August, the Sugdens and their other halves all gather round Diane’s table for their tea. Family time still isn’t a particularly common occurrence for them, but Diane and Victoria insist on it every now and then, and they mostly manage to get through the odd meal without any drama these days.

So as Aaron sits in his usual spot next to Robert and Seb, he doesn’t expect much more from the next couple of hours than some small talk with his in-laws over homemade shepherd’s pie and apple crumble.

Andy and Victoria are both in a nostalgic mood, it seems, tossing childhood memories back and forth as they eat. Nothing too heavy, thankfully, just funny – mostly farming-related – anecdotes from their youth.

At least, Andy, Vic, Diane and Doug seem to find them funny. Adam smiles and laughs easily along with them, but Aaron’s mostly left nonplussed. Honestly, the only thing getting him through it is the eye roll and small kill-me-now grin Robert shoots him whenever they catch each other’s eye. Aaron’s husband is clearly just as bored by the farm talk as he is, only chiming in when someone addresses him directly.

How many stories can you possibly tell about runaway cows, anyway?

As the first hour drags by and some of them start helping themselves to seconds, talk turns to Butlers farm and how the Sugdens had come to take it over back in the day.

“Who were the actual Butlers, anyway?” Adam asks, shovelling a forkful of mashed potato in his mouth. “Don’t think my mum ever said when we moved in there.”

“Just a bloke who was getting too old to keep up with things,” Andy replies with a shrug. “Will or Wilf, I think. And he had a son, too, about our age, right Rob?”

Robert nods as he wipes Seb’s mouth (he’s going through an incredibly messy phase of insisting on feeding himself) but doesn’t add anything.

“Drawing a blank on his name, though – ”

“Steve,” Robert interrupts quietly, turning back to his plate.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” Andy snaps his fingers as the memory comes back to him. “Steve… dunno what happened to him. We were mates for a bit but he moved away in the end. We’d fallen out, can’t remember why but – ”

Robert’s scoff cuts Andy off. Everyone pauses and turns to him as he finally lifts his head to stare at a confused-looking Andy.

“What?”

“Are you kidding me?” Robert asks incredulously.

Victoria tenses and glances warily between the two of them. “What’s the matter, Robert?”

“Yeah, what’s your problem?” Andy says with a frown.

“You seriously don’t remember what happened with Steve?”

“No… ” Andy’s bewilderment is quickly turning to annoyance. “Who cares, it was like, a million years ago. Do you remember everyone you fell out with when we were kids? Saying that, it’d be a pretty long list for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Boys, come on now,” Doug rumbles quietly. “Let’s not spoil the evening.”

Robert stays silent, but Aaron can see he’s biting the inside of his jaw. A telltale sign that he’s upset but trying to keep it together. He rests a hand on Robert's tense thigh under the table, ready to jump in to his defence if needed.

“Well, share with the class,” Andy drawls, ignoring Doug’s words with the beginnings of a smirk. Aaron has no idea what this is about, but he wants to punch it off his face. “What was it, then?”

Robert hesitates, eyes darting to Seb – who’s thankfully still oblivious to the tension – before shaking his head and stabbing at his food with his fork.

“What, nothin’ to say?”

“No.”

“Maybe we should just change the – ” Diane begins, but Andy speaks over her.

“No, come on, he’s started now. Spit it out, Rob, whatever it is that's got your back up.”

“I said no.”

No one else at the table would have caught it, but Aaron hears the wobble in Robert’s voice. He tightens the hand on his husband's thigh, trying to keep him calm, remind him that he's not alone at the table.

“What d’you bring it up for, then?” Andy isn’t taking no for an answer, apparently, and he’s starting to get on Aaron’s last nerve. “God, you always do this, always have to turn everything into some big drama, don't you? Come on, what was it that was so bad that – ”

“You found out Steve was gay,” Robert cuts Andy off, voice low but unmistakably clear.

Silence rings over the table as everyone freezes on the spot. Adam’s fork hovers in the air for a moment, before he sets it back on the plate with a clatter.

“Or, you heard rumours that he was gay, from that Ali kid. I dunno if he actually was, but that was good enough for you. You heard the rumours, you believed them – started passing them on to other people too, if I remember right – and after that, you wanted nothing to do with him.”

Aaron’s heart is thumping loudly in his chest, a familiar anger and defensiveness – for Robert, for himself, for this Steve kid – surging through him like wildfire. He watches Andy open his mouth uncertainly before closing it again, the irritation vanished from his face and replaced with shock. He looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“I asked you what the big deal was, why you cared so much if Steve was gay,” Robert continues with an air of apparent nonchalance, though Aaron knows better than to fall for the act, he knows Robert's fuming. Hurting.

“You said he shouldn’t have kept it hidden from everyone, you had a right to know what sort of person you’d been hanging out with. You were also very keen to make sure everyone else knew that just because you’d spent time with him, that didn’t make you ‘queer’, as you put it.”

Diane and Doug both look on uncomfortably, while Victoria brings a hand to her mouth in shock.

“Andy, you didn’t… ” she whispers with wide eyes. Adam lays a hand on her shoulder, looking almost as taken aback by the situation as her.

“I… ” Andy flounders helplessly, head whipping to his sister then back to Robert.

“Steve ended up moving away from the village in the end,” Robert finishes, pushing his plate away and tossing his napkin on to the table. “I guess all the shit he got over it – the name-calling and bullying – became too much for him to cope with, so he got the hell out of there. And no one ever mentioned him again.”

“Robert… ”

“Any of this ringing any bells for you, Andy?”

Andy gulps loudly before giving the slightest of nods.

“I – I forgot.”

“That’s nice for you,” Robert lets out a hollow laugh, before abruptly pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “Sorry Diane, dinner’s been great but I don’t really fancy pudding. Lost my appetite.”

He scoops Seb out of his high chair and strides out of the room with a backward glance. Aaron rises quickly, muttering his thanks to Diane for the meal and following him, only stopping to throw a hard glare back in Andy’s direction. When Andy’s eyes meet his, he cringes and shrinks back in his seat.

Good.

“S’been a while since I’ve sat in on some proper Sugden drama,” Aaron say lightly, passing Robert a brew and Seb his sippy cup of juice.

Robert lets out a small huff but doesn’t speak, silently watching Seb playing with his toy cars on the rug. He hasn’t said much of anything since they left Diane’s and Aaron hasn’t pushed him. Not until now, anyway.

Careful not to spill their teas, he sinks onto the sofa and nudges Robert gently, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. Robert glances at him before sighing heavily.

“Probably gonna get an earful off Diane later,” he eventually mutters. “Causin’ a scene, spoiling a family meal again.”

“Somehow I don’t think she’ll blame you for this one. And if she does, she’ll have me to deal with.”

That gets him a tiny smile, at least.

“Gonna tell her off, are you?”

“I ain’t scared of her.”

Robert chuckles and leans into him, taking a slow sip of his tea. They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, before Robert begins to speak.

“I know Andy doesn’t have a problem with me, with you and me. I know he doesn’t think like that anymore, I wouldn’t speak to him if he did,” he says quietly. “We were just kids, and kids can be idiots, I get it. It’s just – it’s the fact that he didn’t even remember. To him it was clearly just a stupid bit of teenage drama, it didn’t mean anything. He probably never even gave it a second thought after Steve was gone. Whereas I… ”

Robert trails off, blinking rapidly and looking frustrated. Aaron reaches over to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently. As out and proud as his husband is now, it's still difficult for him to talk about his sexuality sometimes, about all the time he spent in hiding it.

“That day,” Robert eventually continues. “When Andy said all that stuff about not wanting to hang out with Steve anymore, I thought I was gonna be sick there and then. The way he acted like it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard… I don’t think I got a wink of sleep that night. I just lay there in bed, picturing Andy’s face if he ever found out about – about me. If he knew what Dad knew.”

He sets his mug down and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It wasn’t like I’d been about to come out or anything, this was a couple of years after Dad… you know.”

Aaron nods wordlessly, feeling the hatred he’d carried for Jack Sugden ever since he learnt about that day bubble rapidly to the surface.

“I’d already buried the fact that I liked boys, I'd decided I was just gonna pretend it wasn’t there. But – but hearing Andy say all that stuff about Steve, the way he reacted to even the possibility that his mate was… It was like like the final nail in the coffin, y’know?” Robert’s bottom lip wobbles as he shakes his head, sounding so resigned.

“I knew then, that I could never tell him. Or my friends, or anyone in this stupid village. Any hope I’d had, deep down, that being myself might be... I don’t know, not accepted but… tolerated, maybe? It pretty much died that day.”

Sometimes, Aaron is reminded of just how drastically things in Emmerdale have changed in recent times. His adolescence and Robert’s were only a few years apart; on paper the time seems like nothing. But the reality is that in terms of mindset and attitude, things couldn’t have been more different for the two of them.

He remembers the fear, the absolute terror of others finding out the truth about him all too well. But once he was out, once the dust settled and everyone knew… apart from the odd snide comment from some tosser he didn’t even know, people were fine with it. His family, Victoria, Adam, Ryan, Holly… none of them cared, no one saw him any differently. If anything, he became closer to nearly every person around him.

The fact that Robert not only believed that the opposite would happen to him, but basically had actual confirmation of it played out right before his eyes, breaks Aaron's heart.

He puts down his own mug so he can pull Robert into him and tuck him under his chin, Robert’s arms circling his waist as he buries his face into Aaron's chest.

“I love you,” he murmurs into his husband’s hair, hands stroking softly. “You deserved better.”

Robert clutches him tighter.

Later that night, Adam texts him while Robert’s in the shower.

so that was fun

Aaron readjusts a sleepy Seb in his lap so he can reply.

What happened after we left? Andy say anything?

not much. diane and vic gave him an earful, he left pretty sharpish. looked proper ashamed of himself too. vic’s been going spare ever since, i’ve had to stop her from going to yours 3 times. u both ok?

We’re fine. Tell Vic that Rob’s alright, I’ve got him

will do. night mate

“Well, you’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” Is the only thing Aaron says when he opens the front door to Andy the next morning, folding his arms across his chest.

Andy shuffles awkwardly on the welcome mat, a hand coming up to scratch his bushy beard.

“Is Robert here?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t step aside to let Andy in. When Andy realises that Aaron isn’t budging, he sighs heavily, shoulders slumped.

“Look Aaron, I uh… ” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry."

“Not me you need to apologise to.”

“No, I know, but I just wanted to say that I was a right idiot back then, really stupid. Ignorant. And I’m – I’m not proud of it, but I don’t want you thinking I’m still like that because – ”

“I don’t think you’re like that,” Aaron cuts him off.

“…Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t still be standing here if I did.”

Andy pauses and blinks, face twisting nervously.

“Right, well uh… good, I’m glad. So… can I…?” He gestures to the inside of the house.

“Wait here.”

He closes the door in Andy’s face (not exactly necessary, but he takes some petty pleasure in it) and walks through the living room to the back door, stepping out into bright sunshine and the sound of splashing and laughter.

Seb’s playing in his paddling pool in the garden, happy as a clam, while Robert sprawls on the grass beside it, occasionally passing him one of the bath toys they’d brought down to the garden. The front of his t-shirt is absolutely drenched.

“Alright?” He asks as Aaron approaches.

“Andy’s here. Asking for you.”

Robert stiffens, grin dropping off his face.

“Want me to send him packing?”

There’s a long pause, before Robert sighs and shakes his head. “No… suppose he can come through.”

Aaron returns to the front door and beckons Andy, leading him to the back garden.

“Andy!” Seb cries when he spots them. “Pool!”

“Wow, look at this!” Andy calls as he steps closer. For all his and Robert's issues, he adores Seb. “You havin’ fun, mate?”

Seb nods vigorously, his damp sunhat bouncing on his head as he smacks his hands into the water. Robert tilts his head up to stare at Andy.

“Alright?” Andy tries for a hopeful smile, which Robert doesn’t return, instead refocusing his gaze on Seb.

“Can we have a quick chat?”

Robert passes Seb a rubber duck.

“Rob, come on,” Andy pleads, looking down at him imploringly.

Robert rolls his eyes, before pushing himself up and wiping his palms on his shorts.

“Can you – ?” He asks Aaron, gesturing to Seb.

“Course.” Aaron gives Robert’s wrist a brief squeeze as he passes him, before settling down next to the paddling pool, flicking some water in Seb’s face to make him laugh.

As he plays with his son, he keeps an eye on the two brothers, watching as they walk to the deckchairs at other end of the garden, sitting sideways on them so they’re facing each other.

Aaron can’t make out exactly what’s being said, not over the sound of Seb’s splashing and yelling, but neither of them look angry, which is a good sign. He just hopes Jack’s name doesn’t come up, otherwise that could all change in a heartbeat.

Andy’s doing most of the talking, elbows resting on his bouncing knees as he leans towards Robert. The expression on his face is uncomfortable but earnest, as he offers what is clearly an apology – Aaron doesn’t need to hear them to know that much. It makes a change; Aaron’s never known anyone so keen to deny any wrongdoing as Andy Sugden – especially when it comes to Robert and their childhood.

Robert keeps his face blank, sitting ramrod straight and staring somewhere past Andy’s shoulder as he listens. But as Andy continues speaking, his face begins softens a little and he eventually begins talking back quietly. Andy fidgets and looks down, but he doesn’t interrupt except to nod occasionally, replying only when Robert finishes speaking. It’s probably the most the Sugden brothers have communicated in years.

Aaron wishes he could lipread. Or that he had a slightly quieter child.

“Daddy!” Seb cries for his attention, hitting him in the chest with a plastic bucket.

“Oh, sorry mate, did you want a shower?” He fills the bucket with water and tips it all over Seb’s head until every inch of him is dripping, causing him to shriek loudly.

“That’s what you get,” Aaron laughs at the indignant expression on his son’s face, before glancing up to see Robert and Andy have stopped talking in favour of watching the scene fondly.

Andy stands and stretches. “I should get going, then,” he says to Robert, who stands to follow him.

“Stay for a bit if you like? We’ve got lemonade in the fridge, lots of ice.”

“Nah, you’re alright. I’m taking Sarah shopping soon,” he claps Robert on the shoulder. “Another time, though?”

“Okay, yeah.”

“I’ll see myself out.” Andy leans down to tickle Seb under the chin. “Enjoy your pool, Seb.”

He starts walking across the grass, before pausing and turning back to them.

“Rob?”

“Yeah?”

“You – you’re my brother,” Andy chews his lip, looking serious. “My family. Family’s supposed to rely on each other, and I made you feel like you couldn’t. I really am sorry.”

There’s a long silence as Robert stares at him, unmoving. For a moment, Aaron thinks he isn’t going to say anything back, and then –

“S’okay, Andy. It’s forgotten.”

“Okay,” Andy nods, sounding relieved. “Oh, and please let Vic know that I’ve spoken to you, will you? Before she castrates me.”

Robert’s mouth twitches. “Can’t have that. I’ll let her know.”

“Cheers. See you, Rob. Aaron.”

Andy takes his leave, shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing around the corner of the house.

Robert sinks down onto the grass next to Aaron and lets out a long breath.

“Okay?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Robert smiles and presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m fine. We talked, it was good.”

That’s probably the most Aaron’s going to get out of him, for now at least, so he smiles back and snakes an arm around his waist. If Robert’s good, then he’s good.

“D’you want me to get the drinks from the – hey!” Robert splutters when he’s cut off by Seb chucking a bucketful of water in his face, giggling madly when he hits his target with impressive accuracy.

“Good aim, kid,” Aaron grins, ruffling Seb’s soaked hair.

#robertweek2020 #sugden brothers #robron #ALL THE FEELS #my writing

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diazactually · 3 years

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choices were really made huh. he was reaching for him before he even fell, before it even clicked. and then when he reaches again, it's a familiar response to him. reaching for the saint christopher necklace, reaching for the picture of christopher and shannon, reaching for buck. reaching for someone he loves. i'm gonna stop rambling about this because i could go on for hours but!! it just hurts in exactly the right way

found family is everything to me and this show is the very definition of found family. and the love that comes from the show is reflected in the fandom if you, like you said, surround yourself with the people who match the energy you're putting into it. it's comforting all around 💖

the choices!! choices were made. every single one of them lives in my mind and my heart absolutely 100% rent free. i will never know peace again

we are in so much danger it's unreal. we all collectively chose violence this week so i am terrified of what months of time is going to bring. but i'm also excited because there's so much potential and just think about the energy when s5 rolls around?

i'm so glad i could make you happy 🥺 you're such a sweetheart. the kindest person ever actually 🥺 you deserve all the sunshine in your life. remember that when life is looking a little dark 💕

i'm so excited for you to liveblog!! i love when people do and i try to sometimes. you're so effortlessly funny and just an all around delight so it's going to be great 💕💕 i hope you have fun with it and i will be cheering you on the whole time!! (also you said you'd do it to make me laugh and that's the cutest and sweetest and i love you 💖)

actually no, never stop talking! this such a precious thing to focus on😭 i could listen to this for hours seriously, it’s my favourite part about that scene, eddie reaching for buck with that little strenght he has left. THAT WAS A CHOICE. they could have just done a scene where eddie falls down and eddie loses conciousness immediately or he is just staring blanky into the distance trying to understand what happened but no he is doing that Intense Eye Contact™ with buck and my brain won’t shut up about that being a concious choice on the writers’ part

yes!! and just seeing it represented so well in this show really helped me with coming to terms with the concept of you choosing the people to surround yourself with in your personal life, i’ve learned so much and it did wonders for my mental health i think!!

exactly that. peace left the chat the moment that scene started and we haven’t seen her ever since

we really choose violence collectively as a fandom. the posts, gifset, videoedits (goosh so many talented people in this fandom) and tags regarding these scenes are brutal and i always need time recover after come across one, like your posts about it!! aaah my heart broke but as you said it hurts exactly the right way!!

i’m so excited for this finale when it comes to it setting the tone for season 5!! the actors saying it’s going to be unexpected and change everything stresses me out but also i’m just so so looking forward to seeing it!!

you made me the happiest🥺💖 i’m seriously going to come back to look at these asks whenever i feel down🥺 it gives me so much comfort!!

and don’t you ever forget what a wonderful and lovely person you are!💖 i enjoy talking to you so much!! you are so kind and just so good💖

i’m so glad you enjoy my humour😂 also you’re making me soft with all these compliments😭💖 you cheering me on is seriously so precious to me!!💖 i’m looking forward to it🥺

ilysm💖💖💖

#i can’t stop saying how lovely you are #you are such a gift #💖💖💖#bensplatt

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nowaynoee · 4 years

Text

at least i got you in my head

also on ao3

the typical clichè: very gay Maya falls in love with her very straight best friend Lola but it’s actually easier than they think.

enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

this work is inspired by this gifset 💜

She doesn’t know exactly when her feelings for Lola started to bloom.

For what she can remember, it happened quickly and her self control got thrown out of the window. Maya did try to repress them, to convince herself that she was just a whim and that sooner or later they would go away as rapidly as they came. Truth is that after almost four years her feelings are still there, strong and apparently irremovable. The thing is that while she’s confident about her being a loud and proud lesbian, as far as she knows Lola is straight, very straight, and she’s also her best friend. What a situation.

Maya met Lola the first year of high school. They sat near each other for a while before starting a conversation and as soon as that happened they got inseparable. It’s special the bond that keep them still attached even after years and both of them felt it immediately, since the first word spoken with a hint of shyness. Maya was there for Lola when her mother died and Lola was there for Maya when she came out to her foster family and they threw her out. Coming to terms with her sexuality was easy. She always knew she is attracted to women. Let’s say that when she met Lola, well, she had another confirmation.

Maya even lived with her for a short time, while she was searching a job and another place to stay. Probably the best moments of her life. She left school at the end of the second year, soon after she started working and living alone in the tiniest flat ever. Her friendship with Lola continued, maybe even stronger than before.

As said, she can’t remember the exact moment her feeling bloomed but she can remember that little istant in which she admitted to herself that no, Lola wasn’t just her best friend.

They were having a sleepover at Maya’s apartment, the very first time Lola slept there. She mocked Maya a few times about how small it was and she was right but in a way it felt like her little nest and safe place. They laughed all night long, eat here and there and did an extreme marathon of movies wrapped in a huge blanked, side by side. Maya was about to turn off the tv when she realized Lola already fell asleep and her head was comfortably placed on her shoulder. She gazed at her: her face was relaxed, her mouth slightly open and she was breathing calmly, the warmness of it directly on Maya’s neck. Lola looked beautiful like this. Maya lost herself for god knows how much to take in all the details of her. When she came back to reality, she knew. I’m in love with you . ...

Same bed two years later, she’s still in love with Lola. It’s summer and her duvet has been replaced buy just one white sheet. Lola is under it, her hair splayed on the pillow and her eyes closed in a deep sleep. The shine caused by the sweat looks surprisingly good on her and Maya has to hold herself back from caressing her cheeks. The outline of her small body is evident under the light fabric and the little top and shorts she’s wearing doesn’t help hiding it. Maya feels like a creep when she looks at Lola like this. It’s not like she doesn’t try to not do it, she does, but when you’re in love with someone you have an hard time with that. It’s even harder to accept that nothing is going to happen and you have to let go of the hope it will. She fantasizes sometimes about confessing to her, about finally be able to kiss her and call her her girlfriend. Lola lives in her mind rent free ans she wants to punch herself for letting her in in the first place.

...

“I hate it.”

This is the third outfit Lola tries for the night and once again she’s undressing only to redress again with another pairing. Maya gives her advices through it, her already having chose what to wear for the night. She knows Lola’s room by heart but every time she’s in it she always finds something new. A photo, a drawing, posters of her favourite bands. Is on those that she centers her attention while her best friend changes clothes because the view would be too much for her gay panic.

“What do you think about this one? ╴Hey? Earth to Maya?”

She turns her gaze towards Lola immediately, realizing only then that she has zoned out once again. “It’s very much your style.” She replies with a small smile curving her lips. There’s nothing special about what her friend is wearing, it being a normal pair of black jeans and a top that cuts right before her navel, still Maya can’t take her eyes of her. “I think I’ll go with this one, then. Do you still want to do my makeup and hair?” Lola asks her and Maya nods, sitting up from the chair and leaving it to her.

She loves this part of the preparation. Firstly because she gets to do what she likes and secondly because it allows her to be close to Lola without it being awkward. Sure, they cuddle sometimes but Maya always interrupts it as soon as possible: it hurts her to have Lola cuddled to her in that way. It makes her feeling want to erupt.

“Do you remember the last urbex party we went together?” Lola asks her, bringing up her eyes to let Maya putting the kajal on the lower rim. Maya does remember it, well even. It was three months ago. “You were so mad because you spent like an hour doing my makeup and the rain smudget it like thirty minutes after we arrived.” She chuckles and suddenly stops when Maya gives her a little punch to not mess up what she’s doing. “It was one of my best works! It looked so good.” because it was on you , she wants to say but doesn’t. Instead they keep small talking until Lola’s ready and they get out of her house.

…

The party is crowded, like really crowded.

Once they arrived they met up with Jo, Max and Sekou and headed directly to the bar. They all took something to drink while Maya, as always, decided for a simple soda. Maya doesn’t like dancing that much, she definitely enjoys more listening to the loud music and laying on one of the free couches. Max and Sekou usually stay with her while Lola and Jo get crazy on the dancefloor for hours. “ ╴so, no target tonight?” Max’s voice gets her out of her thoughts, at least enough to take a look at the whole place in search of someone interesting. It’s not like Maya waited for Lola all these years, at least not apparently. She had a few night stands and one relationship even. It didn’t last that long and plus, Lola hated the girl in question. They mocked each other all the time and they were practically in an ongoing competition of who knew Maya better. Lola won each and every time.

“I don’t know.” Maya answers because she really doesn’t. There’s really no girl that attracts her that much and them being in a random club and not into a gay one makes things a little difficult for her. Better to keep some distance from straight girls, right?

“Oh, come on Maya—“ before Max can finish the sentence, Jo comes running towards where they’re seated, spreading herself in the free space they left for her. “God, I’m sweating from every pore, I swear! The drink I swallowed in one go didn’t help either, my head spins so bad right now.” She cups her face with her hands and Maya brings one of hers on her back, moving it in small circles.

“Wait — where is Lola?” Maya asks her as soon as Jo seems to feel better. “Mmh, she’s with a guy, I don’t even remember his name. He was cute though, she has taste!” Her words make her sigh, fortunately the loud music covers it. It doesn’t take to much of looking to find Lola in the crowd, pressed against the wall with a guy literally eating her face like there’s no tomorrow. Maya feels her stomach clenching and a sharp pain right where her heart is placed. The nausea hits her suddenly and she has to take a few deep breaths to swallow down the food she ate a few hours before. It’s not the first time she sees Lola with a guy, she has seen her with plenty flirts and even in a short-term relationship. This time hits different though. Maybe because it’s been three months since the last party they went to and she didn’t have to see her making out with anyone for all this time.

“I’m going out. I need some fresh air.” She blurts out, sitting up. Her head spins and tears are threatening to come out each second that passes.

“Maya, wait.” She hears Sekou say and she stops, turning around only to find that all three of her friends are looking at her with a concerned expression.

“You can’t keep going like this. You have to tell her what you feel.” He adds, signing her to sit again with them. They knew from the beginning what was going on between her and Lola. Even before Maya admitted it to herself. At first, when they tried to bring up her feelings, she brushed it off saying it was just in their head. Obviously it wasn’t. Jo, Max and Sekou mocked her about her crush for Lola for a long time when she finally told them they were right all along. Only when they realized that it wasn’t just a crush but that Maya really fell in love with Lola they stopped and tried encouraging her to tell her everything.

“I can’t, I can’t tell her what I feel. I would lose her! She doesn’t love me like that.” She said the same exact words a million times but it still hurts her to repeat them out loud. If Maya was sure that she wouldn’t lose her by confessing her feeling, she would at least think about it. The truth is that just the idea of not having her in her life is worse that having Lola just like a friend.

“It’s just what it is. I’ll get over it.” All three are rolling their eyes and Maya can tell they’re truly done with her bullshit.

“I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

Maya recognizes Lola’s voice as soon as she hears it and she finds Lola right behind her, bringing her arms around Maya’s neck and pressing herself on her back. The sitting position which Maya’s in makes Lola more comfortable and she leans in to her fully. “Are you tired?” Lola speaks in her ear to make herself be heard only by Maya. The latter nods, tilting her head up to see her friend’s face. “Guys, I don’t want to ruin your fun but tomorrow I’m working. I really need to go home.” It’s a lie , Maya thinks. She knows that Lola doesn’t work on sunday and probably the others know too but don’t say anything. They gather their things quickly, none of them too sorry to leave. During the ride home she gazes at Lola sometimes, the image of her kissing the stranger still very vivid in her head. She can’t seem to ignore it like she did in the past.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lola whispers, their bodies tangled in a tight hug in Lola’s bed. Her best friend is caressing her hair, scratching her scalp from time to time, till she drags her finger under Maya’s chin to make her turn up her head.

Everything about this is wrong. Everything that she’s feeling is wrong but Maya can’t say it. She can’t bring herself to form the right words. Even thinking about that hurts her. Lola knows something is not right and Maya can see her questioning and concerned look. She gulps and looks away, trying to escape any further question. “It’s nothing.” She brushes it off, placing her head again on Lola’s shoulder.

“It’s not nothing if it bothers you.” Lola murmurs in her hair, her breath warm against it. She always knows when something is wrong and doesn’t leave it until Maya actually talks. It’s not the first time Maya feels like this, jealousy striking her until she almost stops breathing and shame after because they aren’t even together. She managed for a long time to swallow it down, to cry even when it all became too much, without Lola seeing it but she can’t seem to bring herself to do it now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Maya mutters, voice so low she’s not even sure Lola heard her. “I’m sorry.” She adds after a few seconds. A tear escapes and she’s fast to dry it out but not fast enough for Lola not to notice.

“Maya…”

Her heart clenches at hearing Lola saying her name and when one tear starts to become a full on crying session, Lola just holds her tighter. Maya grabs Lola’s shirt with her fist, as a way of saying please don’t leave me as her cheeks dampens, leaving a wet stain on the fabric.

“It will all be alright Maya. I promise.” She whispers and for the first time Maya can’t bring herself to believe her.

…

It’s been a week since her breakdown in Lola’s arms. They didn’t talk about it again, Lola deciding to leave Maya her privacy and time to come to her when she’ll be ready. Except that she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be ready. During the last seven days she kept some sort of distance with Lola, trying to shake off the image of her from the last saturday. Maya even tried to go on a date to remove the said girl from her mind for at least a bunch of hours. Her date was cute, hesitant when she pressed her lips against Maya’s ones, only to start kissing her deeper when she felt her hands pinching her waist. They spent the night together and the sex was good, it served its purpose. Maya didn’t call this girl again. As soon as she left in the morning, she put the bedsheets in the washer and brought herself under the shower until the girl’s perfume wasn’t on her skin anymore.

When Jo sent her a message proposing her to go out again on saturday, she initially refused. Parties weren’t fun anymore. Jo, being the chaotic girl she is, tried again, this time asking her to do a sleepover at her house. She wanted to find an excuse but she couldn’t keep ignoring her friends and Lola. Maya’s flat is small but it can handle five people if they squeeze enough to sleep. One thing was for sure, Maya wasn’t sleeping near Lola again.

...

“Never have I ever… Kissed someone of the same sex.” Jo speaks first, getting immediately puzzled looks towards her. “Seriously Jo?” Maya jokes, laughing quietly and drinking from her cup. Max, Jo and Sekou have vodka in their cups, Lola has it too but barely drinks it and Maya can tell because she doesn’t see her swallowing down the liquid when she should be. Maya, as always, has a simple soda. “I know you did, you silly, I just wanted to know if I was the only one that didn’t. Apparently I’m not!” As soon as Jo lets out the last words, she takes a look at Lola which has her gaze on her glass and isn’t drinking. It’s late night and Maya can see she’s tired of playing this game as much as she is. Fortunately it doesn’t take long until their three friends collapse on the mattress she placed in her living room. The only two that sleep doesn’t take are Lola and Maya.

They remain in silence for what it feels like an eternity. It’s uncomfortable but at the same time it’s not if it’s even possible. They’re facing each other while sitting on Maya’s small couch but they both are keeping their eyes down, avoiding the other’s looks. The unspoken weights on them like a million bricks and neither of them is courageous enough to lift it. At least that’s what Maya thought.

“Never have I ever fell in love with my best friend.”

Lola’s voice isn’t loud but Maya hears it amplified ten times more than it actually is. The implied question leaves her surprised and makes her heart skip a beat. She snaps her head back up, her eyes locked in Lola’s ones unable to move them somewhere else now. Her lips part slightly but no sounds escapes from them. She doesn’t even have the cup in her hands anymore from where she could drink. In a way, Lola trapped her. Lola didn’t say that innocently or without thinking about it. They aren’t even playing anymore so there’s a second ending for sure.

“Why are you asking me this?” Maya ends up saying after gaining enough confidence to form a coherent sentence.

“I remember. I remember everything .”

╴╴╴

Three months ago

Lola’s body was pressed against Maya’s side, while one of her arms was lazily placed around her shoulder to steady her. She felt dizzy but she wasn’t drunk. Or at least she wasn’t anymore, the effect of alcohol slowly left her body during their long ride home. Max decided to bring them and their friends to an urbex party on the other side of the city and the traffic, especially when they were going back home, was unbearable. They had fun that night, Lola dancing as always with Jo and sometimes bringing Maya with her even if she was complaining. She felt Maya’s front against her back and she couldn’t help pressing herself even closer to her, swinging her hips at the rhythm of the music. Thanks to the non-existent distance between them, she could feel Maya holding her breath.

It’s not like Lola didn’t notice that Maya was sometimes awkward around her. She tried to ignore it for some time but not thinking about it made her do it even more. Not only about what was going on in Maya’s head, but also what was going on in hers. She was straight as far as she knew, she has always been with boys and she liked it. Lola knew that Maya was attracted to girls only and she never had a problem with it. At least until her best friend wasn’t near one of them that wasn’t her. Maya’s first relationship was with a certain Charlotte, a girl she met at work. Lola hated her from the first second she saw her and never failed to make that very known. Maya tried so hard to find a common ground between the two of them but she never succeed. She knew that Maya didn’t love Char, she could see it in her eyes. It was just a matter of time until they broke up. When they did, Lola wasn’t surprised.

What she was really surprised about was her — jealousy towards her? She couldn’t explain exactly what she felt at the time, she just realized that she wanted to be the one Maya was holding. She wanted to be the one Maya was kissing. She wanted to be the one Maya looked at. She wanted to be at Char‘s place. Her feelings were confusing and Lola didn’t try to let them out for fear of hurting Maya. She ignored them by throwing herself in the arms of random guys, having even a relationship with one of them for a few months. At the end of the day though, she always ended up in Maya’s arms thinking what would it be like to be held. Seriously held by her.

She couldn’t ignore them anymore that night, after the urbex party.

Maya helped her going up the stairs and when they arrived inside her house she splayed herself on the couch. “This party was awesome.” Lola said, placing her head on Maya’s shoulder when she sat on her side. She could hear her trying to breathe slowly and, when she brought her hand on her friend’s chest, she took the time to feel her heartbeat against her palm. “Your heart is beating so fast.” She murmured, moving her chin until it was placed on the crook of Maya’s neck. Lola knew that with her lips being so close to her skin she could feel her breath against that sensitive spot. Lola’s mind is dizzy but not on alcohol and Maya’s silence is somehow motivating her to not stop. “Maya, look at me.” It was whispered extremely low but Maya must have heard her because she turned her head on Lola’s side.

“Lola, w-what are you doing?” Maya’s voice was unsteady, breathy and insecure. Lola tilted her head up a bit, until she could make their fronts touch. Maya closed her eyes and parted her lips almost immediately but nothing happened for long. They remained like that, enjoying their closeness and the silence that filled the room again.

Suddenly, Lola couldn’t hold back anymore. She slowly got closer and closer, until their lips brushed one another. Maya let out little sigh and that’s when Lola took the opportunity to bring their lips together one for all. It wasn’t more than a simple peck, even if it lasted a bit longer than that, but it still was enough to make Lola shiver.

Yes, she was acting drunker than she was only to make this easier. Only to pretend she forgot about it just in case Maya reacted badly.

Before she was able to deepen their kiss, Maya pulled her back by placing both her hands on Lola’s shoulder. “No Lola, this isn’t right.” She marked, getting up from the couch. It took Lola a few seconds to realize what was happening and when she did a wave of regret hitted her. Tears threatened to come out but she held them back as much as she could. “I’m bringing you a blanket.” She heard Maya say but her voice seemed like it came from afar. She felt the warmness of the fabric enveloping her and her back pressed on the couch cushions.

“You’re drunk, you need to get some rest. You won’t remember anything in the morning.” And she placed a kiss on her forehead, delicate as the tone of her voice.

She wanted to scream: no, i will. Sleep took over her before she could even part her lips.

╴╴╴

“You remember that you —“

“I kissed you.” Lola mutters, letting out the words that Maya can’t seem to pronounce.

Maya is in full on panic. Lola was drunk as far as she knew but apparently not as drunk to forget the moment they shared together.

She thought about that kiss a lot in the last three months, she couldn’t get it out of her head. For the three seconds it lasted, she was the happiest person on earth. She leaned to the touch of Lola’s lips even, soft and plump just like she imagined them, and she lost herself for a moment. Her heart was ready to burst out of her chest and her body was shaking from excitement and relief. It all came crashing down when she came back to earth and realized that none of that was true and felt. Lola was out of it, she had to carry her throughout the stairs and help her to sit on the couch. Probably the kiss was nothing more than an induced action caused by the effect of alcohol. Maya obliged herself to forget about it but she just couldn’t. After their kiss, at least, she didn’t saw Lola entertaining herself with a guy for a long time. Until the last party they went to.

Now Lola is there, saying that she remembers anything and the only thing Maya wants to do is to run through the door. She doesn’t want to handle rejection. In a way, it’s better not to know and still have a minuscule hope than knowing that nothing is going to happen ever because her best friend is straight as a line.

“Let’s not talk about it, okay? It doesn’t have to mean anything. It was just a kiss.” Maybe the reverse psychology can work to get her out of the situation. Maya tries to brush it off as nothing important, as something they can forget because it didn’t have to mean anything for their future. They were still going to have a future, right?

“Just a kiss.” Lola repeats and Maya can hear almost disappointment in her voice. She doesn’t get it, though. Lola shouldn’t feel disappointed. After all, none of them talked about it after it happened and even if Lola remembered chose to not talk about it.

Lola is suddenly closer to her and she fails in the intent of backing off from her. She feels paralyzed all of the sudden and confused too. Their eyes lock again and the intensity of Lola’s gaze is almost unbearable for her poor heart. “Lola…” Maya manages to whisper when one of Lola’s hand come to rest on her cheek and, unable to think in a rational way, she places one of hers on top of her friend’s. Their forehead touch, just like they did three months ago and at this point Maya is too far gone.

Words become unnecessary when, in a surge of courage, Maya closes the distance between her and Lola. I’ll probably regret this in the morning , she has barely the time to think. Their lips meet in an innocent kiss, a soft press that is enough to send sparks all through Maya’s spine. She doesn’t dare to deepen it but in the end she doesn’t need too because Lola is doing it for her. She brings the other hand on Maya’s free cheek and uses it to move her head how she wants it. If it wasn’t for Lola’s firm hold, Maya would probably already stopped to see any sign of discomfort in Lola’s face. But her tongue is licking her bottom lip and Maya lets her in, giving up any form of resistance. It’s heavenly and it feels good but she can’t bring herself to enjoy the moment fully. She feels dirty, like she took advantage of the vulnerable moment to do what she wanted the most for years.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I-I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” Maya parts their lips abruptly and almost immediately she can see that Lola didn’t expect it. It took her a few seconds to open her eyes and realize that Maya wasn’t kissing her anymore. She still tastes the delicate vodka flavour of Lola’s mouth and the softness of her lips against hers. The thing is that she can’t handle all of this. She can’t handle to be kissed passionately by Lola just because she feels sorry for her and her stupid feelings she can’t ignore. If Maya could go back in time before she knew how having Lola that close to her felt, she would. Three months ago she wouldn’t have let herself lean into her friend’s touch even if she thought that she wouldn’t remember it. Lola tries to mutters something but nothing escapes from her lips but a sigh.

“I have to go.” Maya forgets for a moment that she’s in her own house and there’s nowhere she can go. The flat is so small that there’s no way to stay far from Lola how she would like to. She ends up locking herself in her little bathroom, like a baby, and drags her back on the door until she’s sitting on the pavement. Her head bumps on the wood as she tries to inhale and exhale without shaking. She wants to punch herself, again.

She hears a knock on the door and then a dragging sound on it. Lola is in the same position as she’s in. “Maya, please. Can we talk?” Lola pleads, her voice shaky. Maya wants to let her in but doing it also means making her dreams crush after almost four years. There’s no way Lola feels the same for her, she doesn’t even know what it means to be in love with someone and not being able to breathe because they’ll never be yours. There’s nothing in the world she would like more now than to be held by her, to hear her voice saying that it’ll all be alright even if it’s a lie, to feel her fingers caressing her head and making her eyes flutter in the process. But Maya can’t. Her heart is already too broken. In the end, she doesn’t answer. Instead, she closes her eyes and lets a tear run on her cheek. A tear that quickly turn into many and quiet sobs escape her mouth.

On the top of it all, she overhears Lola getting up.

…

Maya ended up passing out on her bathroom floor.

When she wakes up god knows how many hours later, it takes her a few minutes to remember what happened during the night. She feels her skin dry as the sahara and her eyes burning from all the crying she has done. The shame hits her before she can even get up and it all goes downhill from there. She looks at herself in the mirror, her face tired and sleepy, and she’s still wearing the clothes from yesterday. She doesn’t know what to do now. Lola probably run away from her after the improbable reaction she had and Maya has absolutely no intention of talking to her. After some minutes of self pity, she splashes ice cold water on her skin and washes her teeth in an attempt to remove every little particle of Lola in her mouth.

Surprisingly, she isn’t alone in her flat. The first thing she sees going out of the bathroom is Max figure fumbling with something on the table and judging from the sweet smell he’s preparing breakfast for both of them. “Morning.” She murmurs with a sleep voice. Max turns to her as soon as he hears her and a small smile curves his lips. “I made breakfast. You need to eat something.” His tone is concerned as much as his face is. There’s no way he doesn’t know what happened. Or at least, there’s no way he didn’t notice that Maya didn’t get out of the bathroom for the whole night. “I fucked everything up. You have no idea how much I fucked it up.” She admits, sitting in one of the table chairs.

“Maya, listen.” Max starts while putting in front of her a mug full of coffee. “You hid your feelings for her for four years. Do you know how much time it is? People get together, get married and divorce in even less than that.” He takes a sip from his espresso and Maya can’t help but signing. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?” She asks him, visibly annoyed. “No, this supposed to make you realize that one day it’ll happen anyway. You’re sensitive, you feel everything ten thousand times amplified. Keeping all in isn’t doing any good to you.” He knows he’s right. Maya too. Keeping her feelings to herself made her slowly spiral in an infinite vortex of what if instead of living in the present and actually making her reality go in the way she wanted it to. Maybe it is the time to get out of her comfort zone, get out of the sea of doubts that has been drowning her and finally make a move. After all, it can’t be a case it all happened.

“I’ll talk to her. I’ll tell her everything, this time for real.” She gazes at Max and finds in him nothing but an expression of support and fondness. “I hope she won’t leave me.”

“ She won’t , Maya.”

…

Two days passed since her conversation with Max.

She was still convinced that talking with Lola was the best thing to do but bringing herself to do it required a bit of work. Maya spent these days taking care of herself. After the night with Lola and breakfast with Max, she took a long bath and thought about what to say to her best friend. Sorry if I locked myself in the bathroom, I’m in love with you was lame and made shame rise up at the pit of her stomach; I’m in love with you but I know you’re straight and I didn’t know what to do, so I fantasized about you kissing me for years and when that happened I got scared made her look like a creep. Maybe it was better if Lola never knew about her fantasizing. Who can blame her though?

If she couldn’t have Lola for real, she could have her in her fantasy. Maya used to dream about her a lot, especially at the beginning when she was starting to realize that what was feeling for Lola wasn’t exactly platonic. She dreamt about them in her bed, during one of their many sleepovers, legs entangled and busy lips. The heat of their bodies pressed together no matter the outside temperature, their curves perfectly fitting in one another and their fingers intertwined in a tight hold. When she woke up in the morning, she felt extremely guilty for those images running in her head, even more if Lola was by her side sleeping peacefully. She usually went to the bathroom to wash her face and to step out of that sleep induced fantasy, until she didn’t feel bothered anymore. Even if Lola couldn’t hear her, she always whispered a little I’m sorry .

Going back to the present, Maya is torn on what practically do to talk to Lola. She thinks about going to her house and wait there until Lola let’s her in or sending her a simple message, or even going to her workplace because suddenly waiting a few more hours seems unbearable. She goes for the second option in the end, hoping that Lola won’t take too long to reply.

to Lola: hey, can we talk? i’m sorry for what i did last time, it was stupid. i panicked and i left you without a word. i’ll explain it all to you, i promise.

She sends it before she can even read it again. Not even one minute later, Lola reads it. Maya’s fingers start trembling and the hold on her phone becomes precarious as she sees Lola typing, and typing, and typing.

A few second later, Lola’s not online anymore and leaves her on read.

…

Maya doesn’t even have the strength to be sad or get angry at herself anymore. She just stares at the screen, hoping that she’ll see Lola online again, but that doesn’t happen. Million thoughts spin in her head as she lays on the couch, the very same couch they kissed two times on. It’s half past eleven and Lola left work at least five hours ago. There’s no way she didn’t have time to reply to her text. She simply didn’t want to reply. Maya understands her, really. Finding out that your very gay best friend is in love with you, getting kissed, being left out of the bathroom without an explanation and, on the top of it, being completely straight must not be easy to handle. Probably if she was in the same situation as Lola, she would have reacted the same way.

Even after all that occurred between them, Maya can’t shake off the feeling that it can’t be done. If she got to know Lola as well as she thought in these four years together, it can’t be done. Maya knows her and she’s not the type to leave unfinished business behind her.

The ring of her doorbell gets her out of her thoughts and she quickly goes to open the door. Her heart clenches when she sees who is outside her flat this late. Lola.

“Hey. Can I come in?” Lola asks out of breath. She run for sure because she’s sweating and considering the five ramps of stairs to arrive to Maya’s flat is not that improbable. Maya lets her in with a welcoming gesture and as she enters her apartment, she never looks away from her. Lola doesn’t sit, instead she stands in the middle of the room, her chest still going up and down. She brings her look up, until she meets Maya’s one and takes a long breath before talking. “I want to talk first. Please, let me.” Lola says and Maya never heard her talking with such a firm voice. She simply nods as she places herself in front of her best friend.

“I met you when I was fifteen years old and I was in a bad place back then. My mother was dying and my family was breaking right in front of my eyes. I started high school thinking that I would hate every second of it but then you sat next to me and we started talking and I immediately knew that you would ruin me for everyone else. The special connection we have is something that I’ll be forever grateful for.” Lola stops for a second, a smile curving her lips. “When my mother died you were there for me and I was there for you when you came out to your foster family. We’ve been there for each other always, you are the best friend I could aim for. The truth is, though, that there is something more to it.”

Maya feels stuck, incapable to move every single muscle. So Lola did really understand it all from the beginning, maybe even before she admitted to herself that she was in love with her. She listens carefully to Lola’s words and as she asked, lets her talk.

“I knew you were having a few night stands but one day you came to my workplace with Charlotte and I was surprised. I never saw you that physically close to anyone before, not even me and I don’t know, I felt something that I’ve never felt before. I realized only later, after fighting with Char countless of times, that I was simply jealous of her. At first I thought it was because she took away most of the time we used to spend together but after truly thinking about it — this wasn’t the reason.” She takes a big, deep breath before continuing. “I was jealous of her because I wanted to be the one you kissed. I wanted to be the one you held your hand in the street with and I wanted to be the one you cuddled back home. Three months ago I shoot my shot and I kissed you on that couch not because I was drunk, not because I wanted to have fun with you. I did it because I fucking wanted to. I had to act on what I was feeling, I couldn’t hold it back anymore for fear that you didn’t feel the same. When you rejected me I felt so bad. I thought you didn’t want me.” Her voice trembles at the last words and she gulps down the lump in her throat. “ — then the other night you kissed me first, this time a real kiss, and It never felt so right with anyone else before. I know that I always told you that I was straight, trust me I truly believed it. I tried to say to myself that maybe what I was feeling for you was just affection but Maya, it’s not. I think I’m in love with you and I’m so fucking scared I have ruined everything between us.” Lola is crying, full on sobbing even but she doesn’t bother to dry her tears from her cheeks, she just leaves them stream out freely.

Maya takes in Lola’s words and has to pinch herself to make sure she’s not dreaming. Apparently, there is a universe where hers is not an unrequited love and she’s lucky enough to live in it. For all these years she was convinced there was no possibility of her and Lola together, together as a couple. She suffered so much. All those sleepless nights, all those hurtful fantasies, all the times she wanted to tell her how she felt but couldn’t because the fear of rejection held her down each time. Maya couldn’t know, though. Lola had always maintained a very good straight facade but after hearing her words, she understands why she did it. They were both scared of losing each other and Lola was most possibly confused with her sexuality, which is not something to underestimate. Maya wants to say a million things and at the same time remains silent to enjoy this moment for a little bit more before it ends. She parts her lips in an unspoken word and from her watery eyes she can see Lola’s figure blurred.

“Please, say something.” Lola’s voice is pleading, loud in the silence of the flat.

She takes a big breath, while the words in her head start to make enough sense to be spoken out loud. “Lola, I’m in love with you since the first time I saw you. It took me some time to admit it to myself but I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the exact moment my eyes met yours. This is so cheesy but it’s true.” Maya can’t hold back a tiny chuckle. “I spent the last four year asking myself why I fell in love with a girl I could never be with. I always saw you with guys, you told me you were straight and I never suspected the contrary. I fell in love with you anyway. You’re the best person I know, beautiful inside and out. You have no idea how many times I dreamed about you saying exactly what you just said to me, I swear. Maybe this is some law of attraction shit, I don’t know.” She takes a few steps to be finally close enough to Lola to wipe away her tears. She’s still crying but has her signature smirk on her lips. Maya leaves a kiss on her forehead and caresses her hair, bringing them back her ears.

“You better kiss me right now.” Lola whispers, an inch separating their lips. “ — and don’t even think of locking yourself in the bathroom again because I’ll fucking break that door.”

Maya lets out a little laugh but she’s quick to close the distance between them just like she did a few days ago. This time, though, none of them has any intention to separate. This kiss has nothing innocent about it. It’s passionate, a bit sloppy and their teeth clashes together but they don’t care. It’s perfect in it’s own way. Delicacy left the chat a long ago. They stumble to the bed soon after and it’s all fast and blurry from there. The very same bed where everything began, where Maya realized she was in love with Lola. Maya’s fantasies quickly were becoming a reality as they lost themself with the moonlight shining from the window.

…

The morning after, their role switched. This time was Maya feeling watched in her sleep. She slowly opens up her eyes, revealing Lola’s figure on her side, her head laying on the pillows and her eyes towards her.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Maya murmurs with a sleepy voice, shifting under the covers to get even closer to Lola. “Yes. Just like you did for the past four years with me.” Lola laughs and it’s the best sound Maya could hear this early in the morning. So for all this time Lola knew that she was glancing at her while she was asleep but never said anything. Maya’s cheeks turn red in an instant but Lola is quick at brushing off of her the embarrassment with a peck on her lips. “Is this some type of revenge then?” Maya asks jokingly, reaching out for Lola’s hip under the duvet and pinching it. “Oh, stop!” Obviously Maya doesn’t, and keeps pinching her hip and her stomach. Lola tries to get away from her, failing miserably, because Maya’s hold is strong enough to keep her exactly where she is. When they stop laughing, she sees Lola face changing, the same face she does when she wants to tell something but doesn’t know how to.

She talks after a while, hesitant. “About tonight —” Before she can continue, Maya puts her lips on hers in a reassuring kiss. “Hey. You’ve never been with a girl before, it’s normal. I won’t push you into doing anything you don’t want to do.” She whispers, placing a hand on her cheek and caressing it with her thumb. Maya remembers that even if she was sure about her sexuality since as long as she can remind, her first time with a girl was still all tentative touches and embarrassment when she didn’t know what to do. Lola was no different but honestly Maya can’t care less about sex when she is with the person she loves the most in the whole world. Plus, they have plenty of time ahead of them to experiment with each other.

“But — I do want to touch you.” Lola mutters on Maya’s lips, as her hands travel on the side of her body. Maya shivers and kisses her again, again and again.

…

They get out of bed around noon with the intent to eat something but instead they find themselves sitting on the couch again. Lola is cuddled between Maya’s legs, her back on Maya’s front and her head gently placed on her chest. She’s running her fingers through her hair like she always does, letting the brown strands wrap around and then letting them go. She knows Lola loves when she plays with her hair, it makes her feel extremely relaxed and cared for. It is also their way to tell one another that something was wrong when there are people around. One of them puts a hand on the other hair and they know. They sneaked off so many times with this technique and all of them they found themself alone in a comfortable hug. Today is different, though. The hugs and the cuddles that used to be platonic aren’t anymore and Maya doesn't have to dream about the softness of Lola’s lips.

“Hey Maya —” Lola starts, turning her head enough to see Maya’s face. “ … Now I can stop calling you my best friend, right?” She ends up asking and Maya smiles against her forehead. “You better.” She imitates Lola’s tone of last night, when she told her to kiss her. Maya lost count of how many times she pinched herself already. She always does it when Lola can’t see her because she knows she would mock her for her entire life if she saw. It’s just that she still can’t believe she gets yo have Lola like this. It feels natural with her, it feels like home, but after four years of desperate longing and gay panic when she found herself a little closer than normal to her, you can’t blame her.

“I want to tell the others about this… About us.” Lola adds, shifting from her laying position on a more comfortable one straddling Maya’s lap. Maya’s hands travel from her waist to her thighs, while she locks eyes with Lola. “I’m not sure I want to do it now, though. It’s not because I’m scared of how people will react seeing me with a girl, I want to make this clear.” She clarifies, playing with the hem of Maya’s shirt. “I want to take the time to live all of this for a while, just the two of us.” Maya couldn’t agree more. She is out and proud but has nothing against Lola needing some time to process everything privately. She doesn’t care about how Lola will decide to define herself or even if she won’t at all, the only important thing is that Lola’s happy and if she can be the person to make her happy… Well, so much better. “I’ll give you as much time as you need.” Maya smiles and Lola makes their noses brush against one another.

“Thank you.” Lola murmurs on Maya’s lips and then she cups her face with her hands, bringing them together in a delicate press. Maya doesn’t answer but she’s sure that her lingering touches on Lola’s back and both of them deepening the kiss enough to get lost in it once again is enough to reassure Lola that she isn’t going anywhere,

that she’s here to stay.

#this was cute to write #i loved writing from maya's pov might do that again #there's angst but it ends well i promise #also hayley kiyoko song is iconic i love it #this is obviously inspired to her song sleepover #mayla fic #mayla #skam france

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