#and him just making baby-making so f-ing romantic

[tojivu]

Helloo!! I've came across ur fics a few times and it never fail to makes me smile, and I have an idea from scrolling on tiktok for a whole week, I'm not sure if ur reqs are still open... But may I request the orange peel theory with jjk men n boys? Your pick on who u want to write in that scenario! If ur req is close pls ignore this! Thank you and I hope you have an amazing day!

the things i do for you ! ⋆ jjk men

the orange peel theory ˖ gojo, geto, toji, nanami.

an. honestly i'm still kind of ??? on what exactly is the orange peel theory but i'm assuming it's just acts of service? im so sorry if its wrong LOL pls i don't keep up with tiktok......

an ii. ok i did end up getting the prompt wrong but i hope yall like this anyway..

cw. sfw. f!reader. not proofread. acts of service.

playing. lovesong by beabadoobee.

GOJO SATORU is a familiar face at the local coffee shop down the block — and no, it's not because he keeps raiding their cheesecake displays. he much prefers the ones across the street; he only comes by this particular one to pick up your favourite coffee.

"toru, could you get something for me at the coffee place?"

"yeah, i can," he hums. "what do you need, baby?"

it's actually only a 5 minute walk, and you never told satoru your order. it was too specific that you were sure he would forget; so you just told him to buy an iced latte and be quick with it. after all, you could never go wrong with such a basic drink.

"'s okay, baby," he presses a quick kiss to your cheek, confident he would not come back home with a boring latte. "i'll get you something even better."

"please don't. your taste in coffee is terrible — no, forget it, i can just go by myself later." you groan, wriggling around in the sheets of your bed to find that warm spot in the blankets; satoru was up since 6am, and you've only just opened your eyes.

"oh, no need for that," your boyfriend smirks: almost too creepily. "i have great taste! both in coffee and women—"

you smack his arm, using your hands to gesture a shoo-ing motion. you weren't conscious enough to tolerate satoru's gross flirtations. his eyebrows furrow and lips pout, quickly planting another kiss on your forehead before standing up. he scrambles through the desk drawer for his sunglasses — eventually finding them and leaving the house.

little did you know that your boyfriend has your order memorised — it was a small order, not that difficult to remember. satoru didn't think it was necessary to make you get up and grab it yourself; he had legs, and he liked the fresh air, too. plus, he knows he'll get to see you smile first thing when you wake up; perhaps you might give him one of those kisses on the forehead that he loves so much.

you thought he would have called you lazy for not getting up — he would be offended you think so little of him if you admitted that. satoru sees your sleepy face, hears your peaceful snores and he thinks he would rather die by impalement than wake you.

when satoru returns, you're still tucked into bed and fast asleep. he leaves the coffee on the nightstand before kneeling down and leaving the third kiss of the day, right on your lips — and it's then that he realises that you have him so in love that he's willing to spend $8.95 every morning for the rest of his life on overpriced coffee.

────────────────────────

GETO SUGURU holds the most romantic date nights, but there's only one thing you don't particularly enjoy — that being there's always so much walking involved.

yes, you think the opportunity to just take a breath and link pinkies with suguru is nice; it's just that your shoes tend to undo themselves no matter how many bunny ears you tie. your laces have been through war — the plastic aglets have been long lost and the loose string is practically just that. they're starting to pull apart from eachother that you consider just wearing heels for the next few dates until you find better ones.

"we just need to turn the corner—"

suguru's words are cut off by your sighs. you look down at your shoelaces and they are once again untied; the pout on your lips make his curve upward, after he lets out a sigh of his own.

"i really need to get you new shoes," suguru mutters. "they've definitely been through it."

"can you tie them for me?"

it's a simple request that gets suguru on one knee, dress pants stained by the concrete dust, as you patiently wait for him to finish tying the knots he's so skilled at.

"the ones you tie never come out."

"that's a lie," suguru says, his voice a little muffled with the distance between your heads. his rough fingers miss the loop and he opts to restart the knot. "i tied them before we left the house, and look at them now."

your face flushes at that. he sees through your lie like glass — you were always so easy to read.

"i just like the way you tie them, sugu. plus, they only untied because i redid them myself."

"yeah, i think it's because i don't tie them like a preschooler," suguru teases — he ties the knot tightly and stands up. "you should learn how to tie them the right way, baby."

you shake your head, and he raises an eyebrow at your reaction. his left pinky reaches for yours again, before you two start to walk once more.

"why do i need to learn if i have you?"

there's silence for a bit, nothing but cars honking and chattering from the people enjoying the nightlife just as you were — you almost retract your statement when suguru looks at you expectantly.

"is that so?" suguru chuckles at your response. "i guess you're right."

you giggle at his seemingly sarcastic reply — but you don't see the way he smiles, the way the tips of his ears burn, nor do you hear the loud thumping of his heart that tell he is being serious.

────────────────────────

TOJI FUSHIGURO doesn't know what small is.

well, everything about him is big — his body, his mind, his bank account, his heart.

it took you awhile to figure that last one out, though. toji always does the big things. the extravagant, flaunting, costly things. it's only small to him, and it often takes you a lot of convincing to get him to not spend hefty amounts of cash on you.

he feels it's necessary, to take care of his sweet girl like any man should — toji knows nobody can pamper you as well as he does, so he makes sure his money is spent wisely in making you feel safe and content.

you don't know how to tell him that there's no need for all of it, that you just want him to be with you — it's only until one day when you're coughing and sneezing in bed that you have to, after toji's constant pestering about hiring a family doctor.

"tch, baby," toji's voice echoes throughout the spacious bedroom. "shit—you're burning up."

"i'm fine," your voice is hoarse, nose crinkling at the incoming sneeze. "achoo!—"

he frowns, and the scar on his lip shifts downward. he sits on the edge of the bed, thick fingers moving stray hairs away from your face. "told ya we shouldn't have gone last night."

you shake your head. "it was your friend's birthday."

"does it matter, [name]?" he sounds stern. he only ever acts strict with you when he's really worried. "y'were already falling sick yesterday."

you reach for the box of tissues, fingers trying to reach inside the packaging for another piece, but you seem to have used all of them up — the 3rd time today.

"can you stay home, toji?"

it's one simple request that has him nodding. if you didn't mention it, he thinks he would've forgotten all about work — toji was much too worried to let you stay home alone, while a random doctor he hires on the day of attends to you. he much rather take care of you himself.

"i think i'll fuckin' have to," toji answers, frown plastered on his face out of pure worry; he has no idea how happy his reply makes you — you were more than comfortable with the idea of him taking care of you. "'m too worried to let you be alone."

"thank you, toji," you smile up at him and he feels his face burn up, so much that he thinks he feels hotter than you; "you always take such good care of me."

he always does. there was no doubt about it.

it's then that toji fushiguro stands up, his feet quick in making it's way to the bathroom to prepare a cold towel to plaster on top of your forehead. his actions are quick, wanting to make you feel better as soon as possible; your pale lips and tired eyes worried him more than he'd like to admit.

he ends up cooking the worst chicken noodle soup ever, but you chug it down with a grateful smile and a kiss to toji's cheek.

"fuck," he mumbles, sounding almost annoyed. "think i'm gonna get a fever now, too."

the smirk on his face tells you everything, though — at least now he knows money can't buy this.

────────────────────────

NANAMI KENTO is the type of man to do as you please, whenever you please, even if it's something you didn't even ask for.

he loves to see the smile on your face, the way your eyes sparkle when he agrees to help you with something just because you want him to — he can never get sick of the way your voice thanks him.

this is especially true in times of emergency.

it's a friday night and you're having dinner with nanami, legs crossed underneath the marbled tabletop — your silk emerald green dress flows perfectly, hugs your body just right; you think you did a good job picking it out today.

nanami had a range of activities planned out for tonight. it was your anniversary — dinner, then a film festival, then whatever surprise he kept a secret after.

you didn't try to snoop this time, genuinely thrilled to have such a special night with your lover; you were always one to love surprises, especially the ones from nanami.

beautiful, slow tempo jazz plays in the italian restaurant — you feel like you're from a different time, enjoying such authentic food.

"ken," you smile. "you should try some of this."

he doesn't respond for a bit. he's been looking at you with dreamy eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip; it's not until you giggle that he snaps out of whatever state he was just in.

"sorry, darling," nanami clears his throat. "you just look absolutely breathtaking tonight."

you physically feel the blood rush to your cheeks, too fast that it's almost embarrassing: kento truly knew how to fluster you.

you spin the fork in your hand clockwise, picking up a ball of pasta. "do i not look breathtaking every night?"

nanami chuckles, fingers controlling the knife sawing away at the steak that sits ready on his plate. "stop teasing. you know i think you're beautiful every second—"

plop.

your eyes widen, feeling a damp spot on your thigh. your fork suddenly feels lighter, and your eyes dart down to your dress that now has a patch of spaghetti sauce.

your eyes forcefully close shut in embarrassment, fingers rubbing your temples as you sigh.

"shit," you curse under your breath. "i'm sorry, kento."

he smiles, shaking his head. "what are you apologising for? you didn't drop it on purpose."

nanami sees the frown that drags your smile away, and he feels his heart sink. he knows you really loved that dress — and so he asks you to just enjoy your meal and that he'll make something work.

it's then that his plan derails, just a little. you two are running late to the film festival, but he couldn't think of any better solution.

"wait a little, okay?"

nanami parks the car, and his feet quickly lead him out and into the mall for a little over 10 minutes — when he returns, it's with a black bag with gold printed letters.

oddly familiar, you think.

he steps into the driver's seat, shuts the door and opens the bag: it's the same dress you're wearing, just in a different colour — blue.

nevertheless, you can't help the smile that creeps up on your face. "ken.. you really didn't—"

"yes, i had to." he interrupts. "i know it's not green, but i hope it's okay."

"thank you, love." you say, voice too sweet that nanami remembers all the reasons he does these things for you — he thinks he'll never get tired of it.

020224 — happpyy february ! also i think nanami's one is a little ermm but we rock we roll life moves on yolo :( i got lazy towards the end but i tried Okay

#tojivu ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo headcanons #geto fluff #geto x reader #geto imagines #geto headcanons #toji x reader #toji fluff #toji imagines #toji headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami imagines #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter three: sugar & spice

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: loving my prof. javi and thank you endlessly to @northernbluess for beta-ing <33333 love ya!

“Hey, angel.”

The signal isn’t great when you pick up the phone, an unfamiliar number piquing your interest as you sit on the floor of your bedroom painting your nails. The phone is pressed between your ear and shoulder, and hearing that low, raspy timbre through the cracking line brings a smile to your face and a stir of excitement in your stomach.

No, stop, stupid brain. He’s someone you’re seeing for work, you shouldn’t blur the lines with him when you have other arrangements.

“Hi, Javi.”

“What are you up to, cariño?”

The simple question brings a smile to your face, leaning back against your bedframe. You picture him in his own apartment, probably on his couch or in his bed; imagining his apartment is warm, with leather furniture and sharp edge surfaces — a balance of the firm and clean-cut facade with the worn softness of his gentle personality.

“Mm, painting my nails.”

“What color?”

“Burgundy. Like a reddish purple kind of color.”

“Y’know that’s my favorite color, angel. Bet it looks very pretty.”

“Are you gonna say that about every color I use for my nails? Something tells me we might have this conversation many times,” you giggle and can hear a breathy laugh from him.

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d be wrong, you’d look pretty in anything and with any nail color, querida,” you can hear shuffling on the other line, a faint sigh slipping from lips, “Any chance you’re free Friday evening, angel?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, let me check.” You carefully stand from the floor, leaving the bottle there and walking over to your desk to look over your open planner. Skimming over the day, you see you have a date with a different man scheduled already, pouting to yourself.

“What’s the verdict, cariño?”

“M’sorry, Javi, I actually have something that night,” you confess, quickly following it up, “But I’m free Saturday if you are.”

“That works perfectly for me. Just selfishly wanted to see you sooner,” he runs his thumb across his bottom lip, knee bouncing out of nerves against the floor as he sits on the edge of his bed, “I’ll call you later this week to give you details?”

“That sounds perfect, Javi.”

He desperately wants to keep you on the line, to have your voice in his ear for a bit longer, so he’s scrambling a bit on what to ask you. The first thing that comes to mind spills out, “How’s the essay coming along?”

Palm to his forehead and rolling his eyes at himself, he relaxes only a bit when he hears you laugh, “Professor Peña making an appearance…It’s going alright, I think. I guess we’ll know when I get the grade back.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to really ask that but I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.”

“S’alright. Just like giving you shit when I can,” another laugh from you, he can hear you moving around your room, “What do you really want to ask me? Or are you only trying to keep me on the phone to track me or something like you do to your criminals?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just it. You caught me, cariño,” he chuckles, exhaling through his nose and smiling to himself like an idiot, “But really, I do want to keep you on the phone. I like the sound of your voice….Sorry, that might have been too weird.”

“No, no, not weird. It’s sweet…” You try to hold in your smile, attempting to calm the flips your stomach is doing from hearing that from him.

“Good, that’s good. Cause I liked telling you.”

It’s another half an hour before you are finally ending the call, nails all painted and even your toes too, checking the time and following up Javi’s answer to one of your questions.

“I think I need to go to sleep. M’sorry, I have a bedtime of a child during the week,” you laugh faintly, waiting for him to speak.

“No need to apologize, angel. Get some sleep, have some nice dreams. Thanks for staying up to chat with me, sweetheart.”

“Night, Javi. I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”

“Can’t wait. Goodnight, angel.”

Scanning your eyes across the path down below, you easily spot Javi from your vantage point at the top of the stone stairs. He waves to you when he meets your eyes, waiting at the bottom for you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You make your way down the stairs in your muted paisley slip dress, black tights on your legs, and a shrug cardigan across your shoulders.

The staircase descends to an entrance for the San Antonio RiverWalk, a path throughout downtown lined with bars, restaurants, shops, and more. Javi had asked you here, saying he wanted to do something simple and spend time with you.

Why does he have to be so effortlessly romantic?

You are not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for him. It’s work, it’s a job.

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

Javi grins when you make your way over to him, dressed in jeans, a button-up, and a green jacket with tan trim. He drinks you in, reaching a hand out for you to take and pulling you closer.

“Hey, angel.” His voice rumbles from his chest, low volume straining it slightly. With so many people around, he’s desperate to keep you all to himself.

“Hi, Javi.” Your smile widens as you squeeze his hand, inching ever so slightly closer.

As soon as he smells the notes of your perfume — vanilla, jasmine, and amber — his shoulders relax and warmth spreads throughout his bloodstream. It’s soft like cashmere and comforting like a hug, even in the short time he’s been exposed to it up close. With a kiss pressed to your temple, he gets one last inhale before pulling away, nodding toward the left to start walking with you hand-in-hand.

He asks about your day and intently listens as you recount your chores from today, one of which included taking your car in for an oil change. You’re explaining how they offered to get your brake pads replaced too, keeping your car overnight, and giving you a quote of a few hundred dollars over what it should normally cost for it all.

“That’s some bullshit, cariño. Send me the number of this place and I’ll take care of it. Shouldn’t be paying that much for simple repairs.” Javi clicks his tongue as he shakes his head, dropping your hand and wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you maneuver through a crowd.

He takes your hand again once you clear the crowd, asking about your plans for Sunday. The conversation evolves as the two of you wind your way along the river, not paying much attention to how far you’re walking or anyone else around you.

“Y’know, you have the whole seventies-cool-guy-look down. Were those your golden years?” You snicker quietly as you tease him, slowly swinging your hands between you. He gives you a reprimanding look, not being able to hold it for long as his own smirk seeps in.

“You’re trouble, mi maltenida. With a capital T.” He hooks his arm closest to you over your shoulders, bringing your arm connected to his across your chest and pulling into his side. “Are you making a joke about my age, sabelotodo (smartypants)? You aren’t acting like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me so it must be at least tolerable to you.”

Javi nudges the side of your head with his nose, grinning through a kiss pressed to your scalp. You shrug and glance to your left at him, holding in your own smile, “Hey, I didn’t say anything! I only asked if they were your golden years. I didn’t say anything about your age or if I liked the clothes or not.”

“Sure, angel, sure. The power of intention is always there. And for the record, yeah, they were my golden years. Until now, maybe.”

Now? He must mean cause he’s a professor at a university and a retired DEA Special Agent.

Javi’s heart is thumping in his chest, and he has a small worry that you can feel his pulse with your hand in his. Listening to your footsteps click in sync against the stone path, he inhales your scent again and calms down.

He definitely feels like his time with you is pretty golden right now. What a change from what he felt like a year ago.

“Now? Enjoying your life as a professor that much?”

“Yeah, you could say that, cariño.”

The two of you had been wandering for a few hours now, chatting and drifting in and out of stores. In a bookstore, Javi insisted on getting you one of the novels that you had picked up and talked to him about wanting to read, calling you his ‘maltenida’ once again when you were protesting his purchase. Once you caved, he grinned and went to the counter himself, carrying the bag for you as you continued to walk.

“You hungry, angel? Or want to get a drink?” Javi rubs circles into your lower back, looking at you with a soft, closed smile.

“Hmm, guess I could eat, yeah. Should we walk around and find somewhere?” You start to glance around for something that catches your eye, feeling yourself being led off the path and up to a set of stairs to the street.

“Do you trust me, angel?” His voice vibrates in your chest, lips brushing against your ear and sending a tingle across your nerves.

“I trust you, Javi.”

“Good girl. M’glad to hear that,” he winks and moves his hand to take yours, interlocking your fingers, “I’ll take us somewhere you’ll love, promise.”

It’s about five minutes walk away from the river, further into downtown before Javi veers off to the left. You’re right along with him, stumbling a little to keep up with his wide gait; he slows when he notices you always a step behind, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry, just excited to show you.”

Squeezing his hand in reassurance, you shake your head, “No need to apologize. The rush is keeping it all very exciting.”

The two of you share a quiet laugh before his steps completely slow to a stop in front of an unsuspecting set of double doors, labeled with numbers and letters that are reminiscent of library catalogs — the nerd in you realizes that it’s the Dewey Decimal system.

“What is this place?” A confused expression contorts your face, scrunching your nose and drawing your brows together in a pinch.

“Why am I gonna ruin the surprise now, angel? C’mon, you’ll see.” Javi holds the door open for you before following you inside. A hand is kept protectively on your back over to the staircase, stacks of books that look as if they’re stolen from a library lining the walls and the wide staircase. Ascending up to the second level, you comb your eyes over the open floor plan, Javi stepping over to a host’s stand to your right.

It’s dark, warm mood lighting illuminating the space minimally. Each small table has one of those built-in desk lamps you recognize from the outdated furniture in the university library, worn and stained wooden floors and tables fill up the restaurant area. The bar is made up of old bookshelves, still filled with books at the front and every chair or stool or booth is softened leather of all different jewel tones — emerald, sapphire, ruby, and amber.

If you were to ever design a restaurant, it would surely be something like this. It's a mix of that book, paper smell with delicious food being made, and there’s a quiet hum of chatter and music that isn’t overwhelming.

It’s the “if you know, you know”, off the beaten path kind of place. 

And Javi wanted to take you here. He knew you would love it, he was excited to share it with you.

Again, with the being so fucking romantic and sweet and cute. Makes you want to smack his gorgeous face and walk away from it all so you don’t have to feel these feelings.

“They’re getting a table cleared now for us, angel. Should be a few minutes, you want to sit at the bar and grab a drink?” Javi saddles up next to you, grin tugging up one side of his mouth and exposing the dimple on his right cheek.

For a minute, all you can do is take in the sight of him. Groomed brown locks with the hint of an unruly curl at the nape of his neck. Quaffed mustache, likely trimmed today for the occasion of meeting up with you. Wide, rounded soft brown eyes that are looking at you with all the patience and affection in the world. Plush, pillowy lips that sit in a constant pout and make you want to kiss them all the time.

God, he’s fucking beautiful.

Why does he have to be such a good man too? Can’t he be an asshole for your sake?

“Y’alright, cariño? We can go somewhere else if you want, just thought you might like this place and—“

Cutting him off with a hand on his cheek, you smile widely, shaking your head, “I don’t wanna go, this place is wonderful. I love it….Thank you for bringing me here.”

He replicates your grin and shrugs off your gratitude, leaning in and kissing you chastely.

“Let’s go get a drink, mi maltenida.”

Javier gives you the last seat at the bar, leaning against the surface standing next to you, chest facing toward your seat and neck cranes to the side to grab the bartender’s attention. He’s got a hand on you constantly: roaming from your back over your waist and down to your hip before coasting along your thigh and doing it all in reverse. He orders for you, remembering what you got the last time you two were together and ordering his usual whiskey. After the bartender walks away, he turns to face you and his mouth forms a small ‘o’ in realization.

“I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything different. M’sorry, angel. Did you want to try something else? I’ll grab the bartender again.” He already turning away before you can answer, your hand reaching out for his that starts to extend up in a wave to the server.

“S’totally fine, Javi. Cálmate.” His eyes snap to yours at the sound of your accent being pulled out for your basic Spanish knowledge, a wide grin crossing his face.

“Aye, mi maltenida sabe español? Qué? (Oh, my sugar baby knows Spanish? What?)” his voice slips easily into his accent, the words effortlessly falling off of his tongue in his first language, “Eres la mujer más hermosa del sitio. Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo, cariño? (You are the most beautiful woman in the place. Can you understand what I’m saying, darling?)”

“Um, un poco? I have the most minimal understanding and am terrible at speaking. I’m in a level 200 class right now and struggling to keep up,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink once the glasses are dropped off by the bartender.

“You don’t sound half bad to me, angel. Takes some practice to really get into it, but I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable with it by the end of the year,” he smirks and leans in, lips close to your ear, “Plus, I can tutor you. One-on-one. Qué te parece? Puedo enseñarte mucho más que tu profesor.”

“You’re going to have to clue me in here, Javi. No entiendo.”

“I asked ‘How does that sound?’ And then I said ‘I can teach you much more than your professor.’”

“Oh, is that right? And what would you teach me?” You match his smirk, scooting to the edge of the stool with his hand gripping your hip a bit harder than before.

“Mm, cosas sucias.” His tongue peeks out to swipe along his bottom lip as he eyes your own mouth, translating without your request. “Dirty things. You want that, angel?”

A nod from you grows his smirk before you’re fully inching closer, pressing your lips to his in a slow, sensual kiss. There’s a bit of a push and pull before he wins out the upper hand, slanting his mouth against yours with quiet exhales.

Another thing to be angry about with this man: he’s a great fucking kisser.

Javier is the first to pull away, leaving you with one last quick peck before he sips his drink, glancing over his shoulder when the host comes by to seat you both. Javi backs up, helping you off of the stool and leaving behind your empty glasses on the bar. You walk next to him, following the host to a booth toward the back. Javier takes a seat on one side of the booth, expecting you to take the other. He’s surprised when you smile shyly, stepping toward his side and sliding in next to him. Backing up toward the inside, he bites back a wild grin at your move, cheating himself toward you.

Damn, he should’ve thought of that move in the moment. But to be honest, he’s glad you’re the one who made the move.

The reassurance calms his constant buzz of nerves, relaxing him as you now look to be the shy one.

“Is this okay? Probably should’ve asked,” your voice is gentle, well-mannered as you question him. Javi scoots closer, stretching an arm onto the top of the booth behind you and circles the knuckle of his index finger featherlight on your shoulder.

“More than okay, angel. Trust me.” He can’t help the grin on his face when he leans in, kissing you lightly and feeling your own smile against his lips.

With another inhale of your perfume mixed with your shampoo, he presses a kiss to your temple before turning to the menu on the table, looking it over with you.

“Gonna get the same thing, cariño?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to try one of their specialty cocktails. They're all named after books, it’s so fun.” Glancing at him, he can see the joy in your eyes and it makes his heartbeat double, looking back to the list.

“Well, which one are you going for?”

“I think I’m gonna do the Gin Eyre. It’s got a dash of sweetener, lemon, mint, and some orange bitters it says. Sounds good.” A faint chuckle slips from your lips, combing over the list. “You should try this one, Javi. The Catcher in the Rye. S’got whiskey, and then sherry, orange liqueur, something called Torani Amer, and bitters. I think you’d like it.”

You meet his eyes and he shrugs, “I dunno know, angel. Whiskey is my favorite but I’m more of a no-frills kind of guy when it comes to my drink.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll buy you a different one if you hate it. But you can get whiskey at any bar, this place is the only place that’s gonna serve a drink named after a Salinger book,” you plead and pout your bottom lip, fluttering your lashes as Javier tries to hold out. After another moment he sighs and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing you closer when his arm wraps around you.

“That look is pretty devious, cariño. How am I meant to say no to that?” He raises his eyebrows and presses his lips together when you laugh, smirking at him with a small lift of your shoulders.

“Guess you’re not supposed to say no.”

“Mhmm, devious, mi maltenida. Devious.”

At that moment, your server comes by to take your order, you giving him the drinks and telling Javi to order whatever food looks good to him. Once everything’s put in, you turn back to him while he leans into the corner of the booth, gently coaxing you closer.

“So if you’re gonna be my tutor, can you answer one question I have?”

“Course I can, ask away.”

“What does ‘mi maltenida’ mean? I’ve heard you say it a few times to me but I have no idea what it means but it sounds bad cause it’s got ‘mal’ in it.” Fingertips graze along his thigh closest to you, his arm around your lower waist coasting up and down your side a few inches.

“S’not bad, necessarily. Sure, it probably has a negative connotation in some circumstances but I mean it as something cute,” he clears his throat and pauses the roaming of his fingers, “Mi maltenida is my sugar baby.”

“Javi! I don’t wanna be called that, that sounds so bad.” Arms crossed in front of your chest, your touch leaves his thigh and you move to face forward with a pout.

“Hey, cariño, I said it didn't mean anything bad. I mean it as a term of affection. You’re so sweet and I like reminding you.”

“Doesn’t feel sweet. It literally has the word bad in the spelling of the word.” You pout more, and when Javi takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, he turns your face up to see genuine upset in your eyes.

“M’sorry, cariño, I was just teasing when I started calling you that. I won’t anymore, promise.”

“Is there something better out there? I like being something to you, just not something like that…” you trail off, not bothering to repeat the translated words. They make you feel dirty, like your feelings in your chest and your stomach right now, your nerves and excitement around this man, aren’t genuine when you reduce your relationship down to that. It makes you feel icky, that dark turn of your insides tugging the corners of your lips down.

“Hmm, what about mi bebita? That sound better to you?”

“What’s that mean? Little baby? I don’t know about th—“

“Babygirl. My babygirl,” Javi kisses the corner of your lips, his own smile peeking through. The press of his lips trails along your jaw and to your ear, until he can speak to you with a low, reverberating roll of his voice, “You wanna be my bebita? Would that make you happy?”

His voice is spreading heat along your neck and down your spine, settling in a syrupy pool between your legs. A languid nod rolls your head, Javi’s fingers once again turning your chin to face him.

“Can I hear you say it, please?”

A quiet clear of your throat pulls your voice back, responding to his request, “I wanna be your bebita.”

He hums with a satisfied smirk, closing the gap between you two to press a light kiss to your lips. Pulling away with a quiet smack of his lips, his hand drops to the top of your thigh and rubs gentle circles toward your center.

“Such a good girl for me. You gonna let me take care of you, bebita? That’s all I wanna do for you. Whatever you want, bebita, you can have from me.”

Underneath the skirt of your dress, you can feel your panties sticking to the wetness gathering there. As you’re nearly about to spread your legs and let him have you right there, the server returns with your drinks and food.

Javi pulls away from you, hand on your thigh possessively when the waiter checks you out from his higher vantage point. The burn of his stare crosses over your chest and your legs, bare from the mid-thigh down. The lick of his lips instantly makes you feel like prey, turning into the booth toward Javi to hide yourself even a little bit. At the discomfort of the wandering pair of eyes on you, your legs cross at your thighs and trap Javi’s hand there, one of your own holding onto his wrist.

There’s a clipped ‘thank you’ from your man at the table once everything is delivered, dismissing the younger guy and slipping his hand from between your thighs. There’s no acknowledgement made of the moment, only Javi running his hand across your back soothingly and picking up conversation about something else, immediately taking your mind off of the uncomfortable interaction.

Turns out you were right, and Javi loves the drink you asked him to get. The two of you share both of them, enjoying the picky bits that Javi chose from the menu. Conversation is easy, as always, and the room falls away around you as you get wrapped up in each other.

A small tug in his gut brings him to ask, “Did you draw in class a few weeks ago?”

You pause your search for the perfect fry, looking up at Javi with your hand frozen, “Uh, yeah, I think so….I kind of doodle in every class, it helps me focus. I can stop if—“

“No, no need. I was asking cause, well, I found one of your drawings after class a few weeks ago. It was at the desk you use and it was of me, I think.”

A quiet groan rolls from your throat, shoulders slumping as you shake your head and resume your fry search.

“God, that’s so embarrassing. Please tell me you threw it out.”

“No, fuck no. I kept it. Sits in my desk drawer and I take it out whenever m’thinking about you. Think it’s cute that I was your muse for the day,” he chuckles with a wide grin, leaning into the corner and admiring you with tender eyes.

“You kept it? As in, you still have it? Why? We weren’t even really anything back when I did that.”

“Told you, bebita, got a big ol’ crush on you.”

It’s another couple of hours and only a few drinks later that the bartender makes their rounds to announce closing. Your conversation took most of your attention for the evening, gently taking Javi’s wrist and checking the time on his watch.

“God, I didn’t even realize how late it was. Feels like it’s only been like an hour since we got here,” you laugh quietly as Javi signs the check, leaning over and pressing a supple kiss to his lips, “Thank you for tonight.”

A couple more kisses are shared before he leans back, smiling softly at you, “Thank you, bebita. I really like spending time with you.”

You slip out of the booth first and watch as Javi stands, groaning quietly before his hands find you again, wrapping you up close to him as you both make your way out of the bar.

“You need a ride home, angel?”

A tingle settles in the back of your neck, blossoming across your whole body as you look at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Actually, I was thinkin’ that maybe we could keep tonight going. Maybe you could show me your place?” Eyebrows raised, you wait for his response as it slowly registers for him, an eager nod bobbing his head up and down.

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely. My place.”

Javier knows he drove as if he was in the streets of Colombia again; speeding when he could and on the edge of his seat, nerves fried from the excitement and adrenaline he felt.

But there isn’t a part of him that regrets it, opening the door to his apartment and letting you in ahead of him. You glance around the space, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter next to you as he walks up behind you after locking the door.

Hooking his arms around your waist, you turn around to face him, biting back you grin as he meets your eyes. Fingertips coast across your back, palms moving to your hips and tugging you to press against him.

“What d’ya think of the place, hm?”

“S’nice. But you haven’t given me a tour, wanna see your room.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you, bebita.” He smirks as he meets your lips with his in a heavy kiss, hands at your hips gripping tighter and starting to walk you backward. A muffled whimper parts your lips enough for him to lick into your mouth, both moaning as your tongues meld together. All the way back to his bedroom, he hasn’t taken his lips from yours. Crossing the threshold, he pulls his lips away, trailing heady kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

You stretch back and gasp with a sharp inhale as he bites at the base of your neck, nipping and soothing the marks with his tongue. A glance around his room proves you right from your guesses about how he keeps his space: minimal decoration, one or two photos strewn around, and warm wooden furniture with dark toned bedding and soft furnishings. It’s welcoming, but a bit sad that he doesn’t have much expression. The difference between his and your place is a bit astounding.

What will he think when he sees yours?

When he sees yours? God, no one has ever been to yours out of all your arrangements and with one night with him you’re going to already be calling him to come over. 

It feels a bit out of your control at the moment, your imagination running wild with feelings that are tamped down inside. Something snaps back into place in your mind, closing that part off and begging you to get some control of the situation. Lacing your fingers in his hair, you pull him out from the crook of your neck, smirking at him and kissing him, leading with much more fervor than before.

He bends to your guide, letting you lead him back to his bed, sitting down at the edge when his knees hit the mattress. Pawing at your waist, hips, and grabbing handfuls of your ass, Javi groans against your lips and pulls away only enough to speak.

“Can I take this pretty dress off, angel?”

You nod, a soft ‘yes’ breathed out in response before the material is being pulled over your head and tossed to the side along with the small shrug cardigan you were wearing. Javi’s eyes drink in your body greedily, standing before him in some off-white lingerie. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, hands moving of their own volition as they run over your curves and thighs, settling under the cups holding up your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, bebita. Did you wear this for me?” Hands squeeze your breasts over the lace, a whimper involuntarily sounding at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thought you would like it.”

“Mm, I love it, mi bebita. But I want to take this off of you, can I? I wanna see you, amante.” The band of your bra guides him around to your back, fingers tracing over the clasp.

“You have to take this off then.” You tug on his button up under the jacket he still has on, letting him unclasp your bra and slide it down your arms to discard where your dress ended up. Before he can make any move for your newly bare skin, you lift your arms and start to unbutton his shirt. Javi shrugs off his jacket while you work his buttons, grabbing you by the swell of your ass and pulling you down to straddle his denim covered bulge.

“God, babygirl, wanted you so bad. Y’know I couldn’t get my dirty thoughts about you out of my head, every single class,” his voice gets muffled as he nibbles at the crook of your neck again, making you giggle smugly.

“Is that right? What would you think about?” The last button slips through the hole, allowing you to push the fabric off of his shoulders and leaving it to fall back onto the bed. Your own hands roam across his sturdy, solid chest and broad shoulders, down to his soft tummy. Leaning in, your own lips work at his jaw, starting a slow roll of your hips against his hardness.

“Fuck…” he exhales before his head falls back, voice rumbling from his chest and coated with arousal, “Thought about—Thought about what kind of sounds you’d make for me, if you tasted as sweet as you act…Thought many, many times about what that mouth of yours would look like around my cock…”

Even his words cause you to whimper, chastising yourself internally for the hold he has on you. Peeling yourself away, you stand up in front of him, folding over to kiss him sweet and slow before you drop to your knees.

“I can show you what it looks like, Javi, if you want.”

No one else has made you ever feel like this, and it is terrifying.

And you’re going to whatever you can to disarm this feeling inside of you.

“Oh, hell yes — I mean, yes, please. Quiero verlo, por favor (I want to see it, please).” Javi can hear how desperate he sounds in the moment, aching for some relief and salivating over the view of you on your knees in front of him.

Inching closer, you spread his legs apart to settle between them. Featherlight kisses pressed against his thighs and up to his crotch, shuddering out a breath as your lips ghost along the outline of his cock. You rub your cheek against the bulge, whining to yourself before nimble fingers open his belt buckle, pop the button and drag the zipper down on his jeans. He helps you out by lifting his hips, your hands hooking together his jeans and briefs to tug them down to his ankles.

Javier kicks one of his ankles out, looking down at you, licking your lips and smiling up at him. His brain short circuits as he watches you move your head over his cock, dribbling saliva onto it before wrapping your hand around and starting slow, teasing strokes.

“Knew you were a pretty man, but you really are pretty everywhere,” he exhales sharply when your thumb circles the head of his cock, shaking his head at your devious smirk.

“Y’like it, bebita? S’all yours. Lemme feel that little mouth of yours.”

On the next downstroke you make, you flick your tongue against his tip before taking it in your mouth. He shudders out a quiet moan, keeping his eyes glued to you as you take a few more of his inches and swirl your tongue around him.

“You look even better than I imagined sucking my cock, angel. Fucking hell, babygirl, jus’like that.” He exhales content when you have most of him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed out. Your hand continues to work around the base of him, a rhythm being built with the bobbing of your head.

“Mm, such a good girl. Taking my cock so well, bebita, feels so good…” Javi’s hands itch to touch you, one running down the column of your throat before it snakes around to the nape of your neck. The other brushes baby hairs from your face, smirking down at you. “Think you can handle all of me, angel? Your mouth feels so fucking good, I want all of it. Want to feel me hit right here…”

His words are punctuated with the hand at your hair trailing down to your throat, gently running his thumb back and forth over the center of it.

“Can you take it? Be my good little slut?”

It’s not the first time you’ve been in this scenario and been called something of the sort, but it is definitely the first time that the words shoot straight to your cunt, flooding between your legs. A whimper is stifled around his cock and his eyebrow quirks, hand petting at the back of your neck.

“Does mi bebita like being called my little slut? Mi zorrita (My little slut)? Knew you were gonna be so good at sucking my cock when I first saw you in your little plaid skirt and that tight fucking t-shirt of yours. And with those glossy plush lips of yours. You wanted to get my attention didn’t you?”

In response, you hum and take him all, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You hold back a gag, tears filling your eyes as you breathe through your nose and dig your nails into his thighs.

“Oh, fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, yeah jus’like, angel. Oh, so good for me, bebita. So fucking good.” Javi’s hips jerk off the bed, pushing him further into your throat and hitting harder at the back of it. You really gag around him, the sensation causing a loud moan from him and his head rolling back. The hand at your neck clutches tighter, thrusts of his hips moving him subtly.

With a vice grip on his thighs, nearly drawing blood, he stills and you pull off for a breath. Heavy inhales and exhales fill your lungs with air as he pets your head while you stroke his cock covered in your spit.

“Y’okay, mi bebita?” When you nod and sigh out a tiny ‘yes’, he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs it open once your breathing is steadied. “You gonna keep being my perfect, sweet slut for me, angel? You’re such a good girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

“Mhm, I wanna make you come, Javi. Please.”

With a dark chuckle he nods, one hand stilling yours on his length and guiding it back to your open mouth, “G’head, bebita, be a good girl and make me come.”

Your need to please him clicks on, eagerly licking up the underside of him as you stroke him faster. Getting as close as you can, you take one of his balls in your mouth, rolling your tongue around before giving the same attention to the other and releasing it with a pop. Above you, Javi’s chest is moving quickly with deep breaths, some moans slipping out when it feels too good.

You take all of him again, swallowing around him and gagging, taking all the small thrusts he jerks out. Tears fall down your cheeks and he whispers praises in the same breaths as the filthiest things, all of it making the ache between your thighs worse.

Fuck him for making you so fucking turned on you’re going to have to fuck your vibrator when you get home.

“Mhm, yeah, good girl. Fuck, m’close, angel, keep going. Please, oh shit, yeah—”His own adlibs are interrupted by his loud, rumbling moan as he holds your head and starts to come. Ropes of his release fill your mouth, Javi gently pulling his cock out and you closing your mouth to keep it all in.

“Lemme see, bebita, wanna see you with my come in your mouth.” His voice is breathy as he recovers, jaw dropping slightly open in awe when you show him. Rolling it on your tongue he swipes the few beads that leaked out and sticks his thumb in between your lips. “Swallow.”

Following his orders, you swallow all of his spend, catching your breath when he pulls his thumb from your mouth. You pat his thighs and stand, taking one step to go put on your dress when his hand reaches out to stop you, holding your hip.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” His brows knit together, mouth tugged down at the corners. You look at him equally confused, turning toward him and point to your clothes.

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“Cause you finished?”

“What?”

“What d’you mean ‘what’?”

“What d’you mean ‘cause you finished’?”

“I mean, thought we were done here. Unless you want me to stay until you can go again…?”

“Angel, respectfully, what the hell are you on about? Why the hell would I let you leave my fucking room, let alone my apartment and go home, and not have gotten the chance to even touch you?”

You stutter for a moment, taken aback by his adamant questioning. Never has this happened before with any of your other clients, normally getting them off with your mouth or by fucking them, but never did they want you to stick around for them to make you come.

“Bebita, beautiful, may I please taste you? Been dreaming about it for weeks…”

“Um, I do want you to but you don’t have to feel obligated. I mean normally it doesn’t happen—”

There’s that same flash of anger in his chest that he’s felt with you before, too jaded to be able to see what you’re really worth.

Fucking golden, that’s what you are. Any man who’s been with you, arranged or not, should be so fucking lucky to see you come undone.

“Okay, fuck whoever has made you feel like you don’t deserve that. I don’t feel obligated or anything of the sort, I want to. I’m begging, bebita, please, let me make you feel good.” His hands run up and down from your thighs to your hips, Javi looking up at you from his seat on the bed with those rounded, softened puppy eyes.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Javi, if you ask again, I will actually get dres—“

“No, nope, no. I’ll shut up, just c’mere.” His hands palm your ass, toying with the lace of your panties and moving you between his legs. Kisses are peppered on your abdomen, blowing his breath across your skin and raising goosebumps. His nose presses into your skin as he gently nips and sucks and soothes different spots; your fingers run through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

“Javi…”

“So soft, angel,” he hums, vibrations sent across your torso before he’s standing, turning you both around quickly and guiding you back onto the bed, “Lay back, bebita. M’gonna take care of you.”

There’s a stirring in your gut, nerves high as you scoot back on his mattress. Javi climbs over you, crowding you back against the duvet as he catches your lips with his. Heady kisses are exchanged, one of his large hands coming to your chest and squeezing gently before he pulls off of your mouth and latches his lips to your pebbled nipple.

A whimper cuts out in your throat, holding back as much as you can to stay quiet. Javi mirrors his actions on your other breast before scooting down your abdomen, littering kisses until he settles between your legs. Two of his fingers hook in your panties, pulling them off of you and tossing them aside. Awe fills his eyes as he spreads your folds, licking his lips hungrily.

“Made such a mess, angel. Fucking drenched for me. You were gonna leave all riled up like this, bebita?” His tongue tsks behind his teeth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Such a good, perfect girl like you doesn’t deserve to have to take care of herself. That’s what I’m here for, cariño.”

Your response catches in your throat when his fingers rub circles into your clit, smirk raising on his face when your own contorts with pleasure. The heel of his palm takes over when his thick fingers tease your entrance, one slowly filling you up and thrusting in and out at a lazy pace.

More wetness pools between your legs, seeping from your cunt and allows Javi to add a second finger, the slight stretch making you wiggle below him. His eyes are glued to your pussy, mesmerized by the sight of his fingers fucking your tight hole, spreading and opening his fingers for a wide stretch.

Javi folds over, saliva coating his mouth as he dives for a taste of you, mouth attaching to your clit and sucking gently.

More whimpers leave your mouth involuntarily as pressure builds inside, Javi pulling away only to acknowledge your feelings.

“I know, bebita, I know. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Obscene noises, lewd and wanton, fill the room as his fingers fuck into the wetness seeping out of your cunt. It’s all you can hear as you hold in your own noises, feeling like if you opened your mouth, his neighbors would think he was making a porno.

His attention is focused back on your pussy, thrusting his fingers into you a tiny bit faster and sucking your clit harder. Your hands clutch the top of his hair, tugging and pulling as he brings you to the edge, pathetically quickly to you, but it’s been a long time since someone else has touched you with such an attentive attitude.

A satisfied hum is felt against your folds, suckling noises filling the air as Javi attempts to drink all that you have to offer him.

“Taste so fucking good, angel. Like heaven.”

His mouth and fingers don’t leave you after the first one; the sight of you coming undone for him flipped something inside, and he is desperate to see it again. He moves faster this time, building off of what he’s already learned you like from him. Fingers hook against that spot inside of you, jerking your hips up off the bed as his tongue flicks over your clit, licking like a kitten lapping milk.

Still burning from your first orgasm, your hands tangled in his hair attempt to pull him away from your cunt, desperate for a break as new pressure, more intense than the first go-round, floods inside of you and makes every muscle ache. Javi grunts at your attempts, his free hand gathering both of your weakened wrists in one grip and pressing them into your lower abdomen. The press from both sides, hands on your stomach and fingers inside of you, adds to the tangible tension covering you.

His fingers and tongue swap, licking into your entrance and fucking you on his mouth with his nose nudging your clit. A finger teases your tighter hole, muscle contracting and breath caught in your throat as he repeats all of the motions over and over.

As your second orgasm builds inside of you, a tight coil winding around and around in your gut, you attempt to hold in your sounds. You think, because in the past it’s been all about your client’s pleasure, you need to stay quiet, letting Javi do whatever he wants to you without an interruption from you. 

Attempting to stay quiet for him, you writhe under him, his grip on your wrists tightening as you try to lessen the stimulation from him between your legs. Pleasure blankets your body, tiny sobs wracking your body as you try to let your moans die in your throat. Javi feels the convulsions of your abdomen, hearing the little sounds from you and pulling his mouth away to look at you properly. 

Brows furrowed, skin sheened with sweat and frustration evident in your expression and tension from the stimulation he’s giving you. The two fingers that were inside of you move up to press in between your lips, hooking his fingers behind your bottom teeth and opening your mouth.

“Oh, baby, feels good, yeah? Your body wants you to make some noise, huh? Moans, whimpers?” Your whines answer him enough, fingers still holding your mouth open. “Don’t hold back. Want you to be fucking loud for me, bebita. Wanna hear you. Hear those pretty sounds you make when you fall apart on my tongue.”

He slinks down your body again, replacing his fingers inside of you with his muscular tongue, fucking in and out of you at an agonizing pace. Slow, deliberate circles on your clit twists your insides tighter and tighter, unable to hold back your sounds anymore.

Whimpers lift your chest up and down shallowly, Javi’s name leaving your mouth like a prayer. Without your hands to hold him closer, you lift your hips and grind against your mouth, gasping at the vibration of his own moan against your cunt.

“Javi, oh my god, please. Need a little bit more, please.” You beg, wiggling under him and being pressed into the mattress by his hand gripping your wrists against your stomach.

The second time around comes much quicker, your push clenching around his tongue as you come, whining from the pleasure melting into your muscles.

“Fuck, Javi…” you say with a sigh, lifting up to look at him still between your legs. His fingers coast along your dripping folds, sensitivity jerking your hips and thighs as he smirks smugly at the sight. Greed fills his eyes when he meets your gaze, licking his lips as he kisses the curls on your mound.

“One more.”

“Javi, I don’t think—“

“One more, bebita, por favor. Please.”

His tongue swipes over your clit, gathering your wetness and swirling the muscle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. A kiss pressed there makes a whine leave your mouth, encouragement for him to start playing with your pussy again.

“You can do it for me, bebita. One more and that’s it.” Two of his fingers easily slip inside of you from your come coating your folds, a languid and lazy pace building up to something more steady as your whines and whimpers grow louder.

“Yeah, tell me about it, baby. How good does it feel?”

“So—so good. Can’t even, fuck, can’t even think straight.”

“Mm, such a good girl for me. Relax, bebita, I’m gonna take care of you again.”

The pace he built is plateaued to build your stimulation before he picks up more speed. His two fingers move quickly, hooking inside of you to press against that spot inside of you repeatedly. His tongue on your clit circles in sync, your mind solely on the sensations he’s providing you. The rest of your body is heavy from the two previous orgasms, unable to fight the overstimulation as he fucks his thick fingers into you at a delicious pace.

An overwhelming warm feeling drops to your pelvic area, feeling familiar and putting you on edge as you try to get him to release your hands to try to push his face away when Javi adds his tongue to your entrance with his fingers.

“Fuck, Javi! Stop I’m gonna — Oh my god, it feels different, feels like—like I’m gonna pee.”

His fingers continue as he pulls his mouth away to rumble out his words, coated in arousal.

“S’okay, bebita, just trust me. Relax, baby, let it happen.”

His voice is gentle and reassuring, skepticism still present as you focus on the pleasure again, burning hot in your torso. Your body relaxes again, his hand pressing your wrist into your lower stomach and fingers hitting the roughened spot inside of you while sobs wrack your body.

Pleasure blinds you as it finally overtakes, his name erupting from your chest in a moan. A warm, liquid feeling spreads across your body, feeling a much more intense release that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, flipping your hands over in Javi’s to hold him tightly.

Opening up your eyes again, you look down your body to Javi lifting his head from between your legs, damp across the lower half of his face and the same glistening on his neck. You wiggle again feeling a large wet spot under you and immediately feeling your stomach drop when you realize what happened.

“Mierda, bebita. So fucking sexy. Doing that for me the first time, m’gonna wanna be greedy and see you do it every time now.” You hide your face in your hands, shaking your head and feeling heat spread across your face and neck.

“I’ve never—” you barely manage to breathe out the two words, Javi leaning his head on your thigh as he stays mesmerized by the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Nuh uh, angel, don’t be shy. Fucking loved it.” He turns to press a kiss on your inner thigh, nuzzling his nose against the pillowy skin.

There’s no thoughts in your head, no words in your mind as you catch your breath following your last orgasm. Your chest heaves, quick inhales to fill your lungs and replenish the oxygen in your blood to get your brain started again.

Clarity spreads in your consciousness, hearing Javi’s voice from between your legs, “What do you say, bebita?”

Brows knit together, you move to sit up and support yourself on your hands, you sigh out as you look down at him. “Huh?”

“Where are your manners, angel? What do you say?” Awaiting your response, he punctuates his question with a swipe of his tongue over your ultra sensitive clit, making your thighs quiver and hips attempt to jerk away from his hold.

Attempting to follow his questioning, you take another second before timidly saying, “Thank you?”

“That’s my good girl.” His smirk grows as he climbs over you again, kissing you gently. A tender look filled with affection faces you, Javi gently running his fingers over your skin. Silence falls between you two before you’re nodding for him to stand, getting off of his bed and looking around for your underwear.

“Um, d’you wanna stay? You can if you’d like to. I mean, I’d like you to if you’re comfortable with it. Jus’thought you might wanna cause it’s late.”

You want to. You definitely want to.

But you shouldn’t. You can’t.

That’s a far more personal line, an intimacy of falling asleep with him and waking up in the morning that has your heart pumping but your mind yelling at you that this is still your job, no matter what feelings are involved.

“Oh, um, next time? I have so much to do in the morning and I have a feeling if I stayed, I probably wouldn’t go home until Monday.” You smile sweetly at him, stepping into your panties and grabbing your bra off the floor.

Javi chuckles and nods, stepping over to you and hooking his arms behind your back. “Probably right about that, angel.”

You give him a peck and reach behind you to clasp your bra, adjusting the straps to your shoulders. Javi steps away from you, grabbing his briefs and jeans, starting to gets dressed himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“To drive you home?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus or a cab.”

“You’re not taking anything besides a ride in my car from me. S’late and I’m not letting you go home alone.”

“Really, Javi, you don’t have to drive me. I can manage.”

Why is he so stubborn?

You attempt to ignore the warmth his protectiveness is blanketing you in, shoving it all into the neat little box you’re attempting to keep everything Javi in.

He watches as you pick up your dress, sighing to himself and shaking his head as he finds himself wishing you would stay tonight. But if you aren’t staying, there’s no way in hell he was letting you walk out the door without him in tow to get you home safely. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight otherwise, but if he told you that, he thinks you’d be out the door before he could blink.

Why are you so stubborn?

“I know you can. I trust you, I don’t trust everyone else. Sorry, bebita, but m’not arguing with you.” He zips and buttons his jeans before reaching for a white t-shirt on the back of his desk chair and pulling it over his head as you put your dress back on along with your sweater.

“Okay, okay. You can drive me if it makes you feel better.” You finish fixing your clothes and start to head toward the front door to get your bag and shoes. Before you can leave his room, his arm blocks your way out of the doorway, you turning your head to face him.

“It would make me feel better. Thank you, baby.” He smiles subtly, trying to get a grin out of you and succeeding. Heartbeats run at the same speeds in your chests, unknowingly, as you take a moment to look into each other’s eyes. Within the next second, Javi kisses you one last time before dropping his arm and following you out of his room. Both of you get your shoes on, you grabbing your bag and heading out of his apartment and to his car.

The engine cuts in front of your building, Javi jumping out before you can say goodnight and circling around the hood of the car to open the passenger side door. He shuts it behind you and takes your hand, looking both ways before leading you across the street. Standing behind you, closest to the street, as you unlock the three flat’s front door, you take his hand this time, pulling him inside and up the stairs. At the second floor, you slow in front of your door and turn around to him, biting your bottom lip as he gives you a sleepy grin.

“Thank you for letting me bring you home safe. Now I might be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead, “And thank you for coming out with me tonight. Really enjoyed myself, bebita.”

“I enjoyed myself too, Javi. Thank you for tonight. Like, really, thank you.” You double down, the message received from the repeated ‘thanks’ that are insinuating your gratitude for how the two of you ended the night.

“My pleasure, angel.” He laughs with you, quietly as to not disturb your neighbors before he tugs you into his chest, tilting his chin in to kiss you sweetly.

You pout when he pulls away first, grinning when he pecks your pushed out lips.

“Goodnight, mi bebita. I’ll call you tomorrow? See how all the homework’s coming along?” He smirks as he taps your ass, unraveling from you to let you unlock your door.

“Night, Javi. Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, angel. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Stepping inside and closing the door behind you, both of you turn away on either side of the door; you head to your room and he heads back to his car, both replaying the night over and over again, having the same thought:

This is different from anything else before.

taglist (everything/javi): @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fic #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

[jeannineee]

NSFW Alphabet: Ruhn Danaan (Crescent City)

a/n: the things I would let this man do to me, y’all…

nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

So doting and gentle. Cleans you up. He’ll get you whatever you want or need. A blanket, water, food, a massage? You’ve got it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, his hands. He’s always touching you in some way. A hand on your lower back as you walk, on your thigh as he drives. Also enjoys the way his hand looks wrapped around your throat, or gripping your hair.

For you? He loves your entire body. But he loves your voice the most, oddly enough. (Think of how driven he is by his senses in the books.) He loves your laugh, your tired voice. Loves when you whisper in his ear, or when you beg for him and scream his name. His Fae hearing is very sensitive, and your voice is angelic to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Likes to come inside of you. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s something he loves about filling your pretty little cunt over and over.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ruhn is very open about his kinks and interests. He wouldn’t hide anything from you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s more than seventy years old, and he’s the prince. He has had plenty of experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

LOVES 69’ing with you. Burying his face in your cunt, sucking at your swollen clit as you drool over his cock.

Also loves missionary, with your legs over his shoulders.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sometimes. He’ll make you laugh as he slowly fucks you, just to hear the way your voice catches as he gives you a deep thrust.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s well trimmed. Just a small patch at the base.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He loooves being intimate with you. He may not be the most romantic, but sex with him is always loving, even when he’s rough.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You two definitely have phone sex when he has to be away for princely duties and meetings and whatnot, but besides that, no. He has you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage, overstimulation, edging, breeding. Loves praising you, and using toys.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Prefers the bedroom. Also likes shower sex.

But if his roommates aren’t home? Anywhere is fair game. The couch, the walls, the counters.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Like I said earlier, Ruhn’s senses are in overdrive. The slightest touch, or a whisper in his ear? He’s ready for you instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Wouldn’t cause you any pain, or degrade you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Swears he’s in heaven every time you sit on his face. The first time he suggested it, you were afraid of hurting him by putting your full weight on him, and he told you if that’s how he dies, then so be it.

“Just sit on my face, baby. I want it.”

“Ruhn—“

“Y/n. Sit. On my face.”

When you finally did it, he gripped your thighs, pulling you completely onto his face, and ate your cunt like a man starved. His lip piercing dragging across your clit, him fucking you with his tongue.

SHEESH.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on his mood, but he prefers taking his time with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’ll only have quickies when you’re both too busy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This male will try anything you suggest. Literally anything. He’s shameless.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Can easily go all night long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

LOVES using toys on you. He’s not one of those men that gets uncomfortable at the idea of pleasuring you with them. They’re his teammates, as far as he’s concerned.

He especially loves using a vibrator or suction toy as he fucks you with his cock or fingers.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You both tease each other a little bit before you have sex, and sometimes periodically throughout the day, but he CANNOT deny you. He literally can’t. He loves making you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

LOUD. Groaning, whimpering, swearing as he fucks you dumb. Will whisper the filthiest things in your ear to bring you through your orgasm.

“Let it out princess, come for me.”

“There you go baby, give it to me.”

“Wish you could see how pretty you look.”

I am feral.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Definitely has a piercing on his dick. Probably a frenum piercing. I don’t make the rules.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s big. He’s thick, and long enough that he easily hits your cervix with the right angle. He feels like heaven.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH as fuck. Could literally take you anytime, anyplace, anywhere.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He usually gets sleepy after, especially if you went multiple rounds, but he always waits for you to fall asleep first.

#ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x reader #Ruhn smut #Ruhn Danaan smut #crescent city smut #crescent city #ruhn danaan #smut #female reader #Ruhn Danaan headcanons #acotar smut

[high-supernatural]

Can you do a NSFW alphabet with Sam Winchester?

your wish is my command--

NSFW Alphabet - Sam Winchester Edition

a/n: *don’t read if sensitive to s3xual content* *i tried to keep this as gender-neutral as possible but there’s a chance some parts might not be that way* 

...on with the show...

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Really friggin SWEET AND SOFT. Sam likes 'the doing' all hardcore-like, but once it's over he's a big ol' baby. The type to clean you up after, get a washcloth but actually make it warm so you're...warm... make you a snack, dress you back up, cuddle while watching a movie, wash your hair in the shower... He wants to take care of you after. Sometimes he's a little excessive with the baby-ing, but sweet all the same.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sam clearly loves his own arm muscles, duh. How could he not? On his partner though, neck, he's a neck guy. All the ladies he's been with in the past had some NICE necks - defined, strong, etc etc. He likes when you wear your hair up so he can get to your neck easy. He's a collar bone type of guy too, he likes a good collar bone. I feel like he'd be into hands too? The aesthetic of hands, how they look, bend, feel...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Sam’s not a messy person. He’s a keep the mess where it started kind of guy... a twinky kind of guy... if you know what I mean ;);)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

One thing for sure, he sleeps nude, probably even when Dean's with him in a hotel... that's why he wakes up before Dean does... Second thing, he likes spa days more than he would ever admit to anyone other than his partner. He'd 100% make his person swear to never tell anyone else that they sit in robes doing pedicures, hair and face masks, and lets his person put cucumbers over his eyes while they give him a massage. Third thing is that he has always been down to try any and every kink he has been introduced to. FOURTH THING... he'll never admit this to anyone... he watches porn too.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Pre-Ruby era, not very, he'd just pretend he knew what he was doing until something worked. Post-ruby era, very. He knows his way around & what to do. Even if he didn't, he's definitely the type to be mature about it & communicate with his person and literally just ask what they like, so, in that way, he's very experienced & mature about it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sam's a doggy style guy, but also likes cowgirl a lot.... reverse cowgirl too? Probably. Any position where he has access to your hair & can squeeze your waist.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not goofy, just a little awkward until things get going. It takes him a bit to actually get into the moment & let his guard down enough to actually -let go-. But once he's in the moment it's like he awakens an entirely different persona in himself.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sam's got a bit of hair. He has chest hair, he definitely has some armpit hair, so he absolutely has at least some hair down there too. He's a really hygienic dude though, he keeps it all trimmed & groomed & it's never long enough where it could get all knotted.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be ULTRA romantic when he wants to be & when there's actually time to be. He likes to take the time to do the whole set up; candles, roses, chocolate, bubble bath... but who has time for all that when you're trying to save the world for the 4th time? When there comes months the supernatural world gets quiet, he'll do romantic things like that at every chance he gets. Even when the world is busy though, he'll still be super intimate. He prefers to take his time (mostly?), go slow & he'll always (most times) make sure his person is into it too; he's reeeealllly considerate of his person's enjoyment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He definitely watches porn, so he definitely masturbates too. Months can go by without seeing his person at times, he's gotta do something to pass the time, because we all know he's a loyal guy too... he won't go out looking for someone else just because he needs to get off, he'll do it himself. Most often in the shower, he hates the mess.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ROUGH S3X. Being pampered & being the pamper-er. Showering with/bathing his partner... Definitely breath play. Hair pulling. He's not super into smacking/spanking, he's more into squeezing & digging his nails into your skin, mostly your waist & thighs.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere in a private room. On the bed, on the desk, against the wall, in the shower... in the middle of the room... he just wants it to be a private area, no interruptions.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

R A G E. Nothing makes him want to do the do more than being really friggin heated -- When you wear your hair up & a low-cut shirt -- Hearing you talk all smart & nerdy -- Watching you read gets him hot -- When you know something he doesn't know, he likes people who are smarter than him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Drunk s3x, unless agreed upon beforehand that you'll both get shitfaced & bang. It's fun to him, but wouldn't be a preference of his. He doesn't like ditzy people, people who are unaware of the world, people who deliberately act dumb when they know they're actually smart... There isn't much he wouldn't do, depending on who it's with. With his partner, someone he loves, he'll do nearly anything & all it would take is for them to just ask. With a stranger though, I don't think he'd really care to do things they asked him to do if he didn't find it intriguing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Definitely a giver. I don’t see Sam ever ASKING you to go down, but when you do he makes daaaaaaammmmnnn sure he lets you know he likes it. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be both. Soulless Sam is rouuuuugh, but soul-filled Sam is (mostly) sensual, not always slow, buuuut that Soulless side of him stays around.. he can be both, depending on what you want & what the mood is. Depending on the vibe, he full on matches the whole vibe... if it’s rough, he’s ROUGH, if it’s sensual, he’s S E N S U A L.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t prefer it to be quick, but he lives a busy life. A lot of times, if he knew it had to be quick, he’d just hold off until he could take his time. But as years pass he’s down for a quickie anytime, anywhere, but still doesn’t prefer them. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s so down to experiment with aaaanything you want to try, but he doesn’t take many risks if he doesn’t know you’ll like it first or if he hasn’t mentioned it to you already. He hates making you uncomfortable, so he doesn’t take many risks. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina and agility is out of this friggin world. He’ll keep going until you have to ask him for a break. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Re: ‘unfair’

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He could tease for days because he has some fiiine restraint. He mostly teases with words & passively-sexual touches.. but when he’s playing games he’ll tease you by incessantly edging you for days & refuses to let you touch him until he says to. He’d tease with all kinds of toys as part of the not letting you touch him until you’re begging him to replace the toys with himself. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sam’s not loud at all, he prefers to hear only you. Instead of grunt-moaning like most men, Sam dirty-talk-moans in your ear, quiet enough only you can hear it & he can drown out his own voice to hear only you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sexual tensions definitely BUILD. For a long time. He’s not a straight-forward guy. You could be throwing him all the signs in the world and he’d suddenly forget how to read. But, you’re the same, since Sam’s such a passive guy when it comes to -actual- intimacy, not just sex, actual intimacy, with someone he actually likes. Signs are MISSED. Plus, all the time you both spend apart doing different jobs, or even when you’re together, someone’s always busy and someone or something always needs saving. But when there’s time, time is speeeeent. Hours, days... weeks? Sometimes? When nothing is happening, sex is all that’s happening. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

MUSCULAR. DEFINITION. All around. All over. You’ve seen.. you know.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIIIIGH. Not as high as his brothers, as far as he lets others know... Sam’s a modest guy, he doesn’t let people know he’s hornier than Dean is... but he definitely is...

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually quickies happen after a busy night, both of you just want some sleep, so you both fall asleep pretty quick after. Other times though, he’ll be up all night with you doing whatever you want to do.

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #sam winchester fic #sam winchester headcanon #sam winchester hc

[ecargmura]

Opus Colors Episode 2 Review: BL Subtext Everywhere

Most important question right now: Am I able to tell who is who now? Almost; I’ll figure them all out, eventually. This episode is about observing the relationship the main pairs have with each other and with other characters. It brings about interesting dynamics for future episodes. It’s also establishing what sort of characters the main bunch have. It’s also interesting to see the formally introduced new characters.

I think that this rather character-focused episode does help establish the conflict the Graders and Artists have with each other and how it’s usually hostile as shown with Kirinoe and Mikuriya, but it can also be civil and friendly like with Shido and Kohei. Not all Graders hate Artists and vice versa. It makes me wonder what sort of art these guys will make in future episodes. I’m curious.

As a character driven episode, this one mainly focuses on the relationships the Artists and Graders have with each other. I know this is not a BL, but it’s very much targeted towards the fujoshi demographic; we all know the girls tuning into this show are the ones looking for homoerotic bromance subtext with each characters. As a fujoshi, I can sense the potential pairings via my BL goggles. Kazuya and Kyo (I called him Takise in the previous review, but Kyo’s easier to remember, so I’m gonna call him Kyo going forth) are, well, the main pair, the vanilla main ship with the high school youth and yada yada, the push-pull, will-they-will-they-not ship. Jun and Michitaka are the side pair that would probably get their own side story or a few chapters in a BL manga to themselves. Kirinoe and Mikuriya are definitely f***ing and if they’re not, they probably will. Kosei and Shido are that ship you can see either romantically or platonically, but you’d always be that ship. Yura is the violently protective boyfriend to the not yet formally introduced Iori. Sakaki is that Do-S seme looking for new prey. It was going to be Kazuya, but it seems that there’s going to be something going on with him and Ikaruga, the bookworm. The college students are the mastermind and probably have more tricks up their sleeves to make their ships canon (I think some of the readers for this review will get annoyed that I’m looking through the characters for BL subtext. I’m not sorry, though).

Fujoshi goggles aside, there’s also some character focus on our main boys Kazuya and Kyo. Kyo’s distant personality stemmed from him being the supposed blame on why Kazuya lost his parents. Oh yeah, we’re getting some sweet, sweet angst in the future. I just hope it’s written well. Kazuya, in particular, gets a bit more focus as his parents’ legacy are mentioned. Perception Art was his parents’ creation so they have a reputation. Kazuya is the living successor to that legacy, so he knows he’s a nepotism baby, but it’s ashamed of it. Wow.

Anyways, I can’t wait to see what sort of art these boys will create in later episodes. Since all boys are different, there has got to be different art styles, right? I came for the art, okay!

#opus colors #review #anime review #anime #Kazuya Yamanashi #Kyo Takise #Mashu Kirinoe #Kaede Mikuriya #pseudo bl #not a bl anime #ecargmura #arum journal

[imaginewereinlove]

Hello? Hello? Danganronpa self shipper? Please share the F/Os and S/Is I crave this content bestie

Okay, so you asked this like, weeks ago (I’m sorry) but I am now officially not too stressed to enjoy anything other than Pokémon Legends: Arceus. I also had to write this in two sittings. So let’s go :3

My S/I is literally just me plopped in there. A tiny trans-guy being neurodivergent and trying his best. Like, I sometimes play with more backstory of me finally being able to study abroad in Japan and visiting Hopes Peak (except I’ve graduated now without ever studying abroad, thanks COVID :,3) and y’know, shit hits the fan. after those Sneaksy Twins™ start putting plans into action that involve one of them “disappearing” Mr. Jin Kirigiri was like “shit, need to find another one to fill in the gap so that we can have adequate pairs of Make Babies just in case everyone else dies. YOU. ASSIGNED FEMALE AT BIRTH.” :/ Which leads to survival, which leads to Future Foundation being like “hey can you babysit these guys on an island for us real quick” which justifies in my head my participation in the first two games. It also forces me to think dialogue in Japanese, which I desperately need to practice. But that’s all very messy and I generally don’t think about it too hard. That is for “canon” timeline anyway.

I do prefer non-despair AUs though, and also the “before everything went wrong” part of the anime. My idea there is that (by means I haven’t bothered to figure out) a woefully unqualified me is able to sneak into class 77 after stealing a Main Course uniform. Any time someone asks about my ultimate talent the answer changes which eventually leads to “haha, guess and I’ll tell you if you’re right ;)” My S/I does not have an ultimate talent, which does lead to angst. Yes, you already know where this is going, but let’s start with THH.

Oh, just so that I don’t have to name quite so many, I adore almost all of the characters platonically. There are, of course exceptions, but I think only Junko and Hiyoko, do I really dislike.

So in Trigger Happy Havoc, the only character I really ever desired romantically/intimately was Leon Kuwata. Much to my chagrin, he is a fuckboy. That’s okay though, it started out as a “hey if we’re all going to die, why not a little hedonism? I don’t wanna die a virgin, you game?” Alas ._. Anyway, we’re more fuck-buddies than anything, or we were because now I’m in a more committed relationship :3

Let’s hop over to V3 for juuust a sec before I absolutely gush on my SDR2 babes. ^^

So, either kinning Shuichi led to f/o-ing him, or f/o-ing him led to kinning. One or the other. My best friend kins Kaede, so go figure. Either way, I love him ^^ That said, I’m also a simp for Kaede, she’s such a good girl. I like to think of the three of us in a polycule.

I also love love love Kiibo so much!!! He’s such a good boy and he’s trying his best! I like to think of us becoming closer in my Japanese daydreams because I rely on him to translate some of my more complicated thoughts (trials) when I don’t have the vocabulary to communicate them in Japanese.

Okay! Now for SDR2! I could honestly make a separate post just for them. I’ll put the meta in this post and make a separate post for my canon ^^

Alrighty, so I think that my first boyo was Kazuichi Souda, Mr. shark teeth himself. It was real quick, I don’t remember exactly when, but I do remember commenting to my friends that I wanted to kiss him on the mouth pretty early on though. It became a running joke ^^ Pretty simple though, I thought he was attractive and had almost exactly the same personality type as Leo Valdez a la Percy Jackson, who I also had a huge crush on back in the day.

Next, chronologically and in terms of how complicated the route to understanding the feelings, is Fingers-In-His-Ass himself, Nagito Komaeda. So in the beginning I thought he was a pretty decent guy, but 1. I’d been on the internet long enough, and 2. My friend who had played the DR games before had a <_< attitude about him, so I knew something would happen. After the first trial, my pre-played friend was like “yeah, never really liked him. I thought he was pretty annoying” and my friend who was playing for the first time with me was like “lmao wtf” and despite everything, I couldn’t find it in me to hate him. I was kinda confused about it, but hating him didn’t feel right, despite the awful things he did. It wasn’t until I was contemplating after waking up at 3am or something, that I realized I couldn’t hate him because he was just like me. When my depression gets real bad, my self loathing monologue is his self deprecating monologue almost verbatim. From there, I was more inclined to sympathize with him and try to defend him. There… there was a little bit of an “I can fix him” thing going on, I’ll be real. But he doesn’t need to be “fixed” if it’s a non-despair AU and everything is fine anyway!

And finally, the MOST CONVOLUTED WAY TO CATCH FEELINGS EVER. Ft. Teruteru Hanamura :3

So, a little about me: I just graduated college with a bachelors degree in Japanese language. The school I went to required a senior thesis to graduate, for a Japanese degree that meant writing a 25 page paper about something related to Japan/Japanese language/culture. My topic of choice was the localization of Japanese video games for US audiences.

Actually, the whole reason I stumbled upon this topic was with the help of Teruteru and Miss Lotta Hart, from the Ace Attorney series. I wondered why in these two games (that I played in English) both had a character that spoke with a US southern accent, when the original games were written in Japanese. Obviously this had been a choice during localization, but why? How did they talk in the Japanese versions, and what’s the connection between their characters?

Well, for Lotta, she speaks with and Osaka dialect and portrays a character trope for loud, direct, and headstrong characters. Osaka characters are a character trope, pretty cut and dry. Teruteru doesn’t really fit into that, and only speaks with an accent near the end, so what does that mean?

I ended up writing a 7 page section titled “The Fascinating Case of Teruteru Hanamura”. I studied his dialect usage during the trial—it is not the same as Lotta’s dialect—I studied the way that he talks before he slips into that dialect, compared the stereotypes associated with the dialect that he uses and a US southern accent, and finally did an analysis of his character, why and how he masked where he was from, and why localization did a good job of conveying that character arc. Yeah, I did a lot of researching and thinking and writing about Teruteru.

And thesis? It’s stressful. I had a good many breakdowns over the course of the semester, but the only way to make myself less stressed was to do it. The trouble is, I have a really hard time organizing my thoughts on paper, but I can speak them really well. So in true self-shipper form, I found myself talking out my thoughts and planning my writing with fictional characters. And who’s the fictional character who was always on my mind? Teruteru. I ended up talking to him a lot, I got stressed a lot.

And ya know what? I think he’s exactly the f/o I needed to support me at that time. When I get super stressed, I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to go somewhere on campus to get food where people can see me falling apart. But it was a lot harder to skip meals when he was right there to bug me about it. “Honey, when did you eat last?” “Nah nah nah nah, I don’t think so. C’mon sugar, let’s go find something for you to eat.” “I’ll come with you, it won’t be so scary.” <3 <3 <3!!!!!!

So eventually my interest in him could not be considered solely academic any longer ^^;;;

So yeah, Souda-Pop, Teru Chan, and Nagito are my main polycule. I adore them. But this post is a novel as it is, so I’ll make a post just for them to continue gushing ^^

#superstar: leon #key to my heart?: shuichi #serenade: kaede #X0X0: Kiibo #problematic feelings: nagito #souda pop: kazuichi #everything nice: Teruteru

[evaxoxoblog]

9/4/24

sorry- havent written in a while. im on my easter break from school which is nice. I've been watching quite a lot of television, specifically 'end of the f***ing world', 'i am not okay with this', 'derry girls' (again) and 'rick and morty' (again). i think I've decided that I prefer 20 minute episodes compared to longer. i never really liked gilmore girls; too long.

anyway, i went to see family last week. 4 hour drive which was miserable but fine. i listened to a lot of music which was nice. i saw family too; my cousin has just had a baby and he is really sweet. it made me remember that I will only see him once a year and by the time he is my age, I will be 28. that feels so far away, but its going to happen. sorry if my tone is a bit boring; I'm tired and no is reading any of this so it doesn't really matter. My other cousin just broke up with her girlfriend. we are 4 years apart but we've always been close, and she was a bit drunk when we went to bed so we talked about deep stuff. we talked about love. i don't talk very much; I mostly listen, but she talks a lot, so it works nicely. she said that I've always hated romance, since I was little. it was a good reminder that people don't know your thoughts, because I forgot that I've changed so much. on the outside, I guess I've always acted like I hate love, but recently that's changed. i love the idea of love, of being close with someone. i would love it for myself. as long as I have someone that I love, I know I will be okay in life.

we drove back with my cousin. i get anxious about long car drives, and this was the first time I've done it with someone who isn't my parents (longer than 2 hours), since a year ago, so that made me nervous, but it turned out fine; I wasn't anxious the entire time, which is a nice change. i think I might really be getting better.

ive met up with my best friend a lot too. i love her so much. she makes me really happy. maybe she is my person that if I always have, I'll be okay. i wouldn't mind if she is, though I would ideally like someone who I could love romantically, not platonically. this isn't an invitation to all the tumblr creeps by the way. i went into town with my mum today, and I bought the new txt album with christmas money. it was fun opening it. i got the promise version. i am very happy with it, even if it doesn't seem like it. today has been good.

i am seeing my best friend tomorrow and we are going to walk around the golf course again. i am really looking foreword to it. i am also seeing family friends tomorrow, which will be nice. there is a younger child there too, who is 9 and she keeps asking if the photocards in my phone case are my boyfriend. its quite sweet to be honest.

i went climbing with my mum by the way. i got some harder climbs, and there was this guy my age watching me sometimes. he seemed nice. i was hoping he'd talk to me, but he didn't.

x eva

[chateautae]

mid!tae is such a romantic...i hate it because it's not fair 😫

No because who the fUCK does it like mid tae??? Smashing my head against a wall because men like him are so rare to find and even harder to snag, what a goddamn fucking SHAME I TELL YOU.

#mid tae would probably even make baby-making romantic #he'd be funny but imagine her coming home late to like a trail of fucking rose petals to their bedroom #and him just making baby-making so f-ing romantic???? #hard stop because i may die thinking about that #and he makes love to her on a bed of rose petals yeah okay i'm deactivating #anon #inbox #fic: maybe i do

[izukusjoyfriend]

Deku and Bakugou analysis,a bit of a KatsuDeku theroy post.

Warning!!! This thread is very long and has suggestice themes. Please proceed with caution.

"After that, he lit a fire under me like that"

That's way to sus.

One thing I've noticed too,Deku refers and reacts to Bakugou differently than big heros,even ones that he strongly admires,like,really admires,like all might.

Which makes me thinks..Is all the romantic-like shit done on purpose?

Stuff like this:

That first line translates into: The burning longing in my chest will not disappear.

Second line:I want it to change

He said he daydreams about him and Katsuki in some opening I don't remember.

Stars are VERY prominent with them to,after when Deku said that sus line,he looks up at a star,and saids,he wants it to change,ya know,there is also another song about Katsuki and Deku,Its Polaris. It being about Deku and Katsuki,makes a lot of sense.

Heres why;

"If I could go back and give up everything I had,I would never hide my scars for anything. No not for no one"

When Katsuki bullied Deku,he was scar-ed.

It makes sense. He regrets what he did to Deku. Hes trying to Atone. He absolutely hates what he did to Midoriya,and The line saying,"No,not for no one". It makes sense!

Katsuki hid his scars and tried to act like a big and tough boy,which in reality..

He was the weak one. That's canon,that was touched apond in the manga

---------------------------------------------------

"Say goodbye ,I don't have the strength to let it all end,I would give all and everything if we could mend,All I wanted was you to stay and not disappear,I've decided I will follow my heart,Promise yours will always be right near me.."

Makes a lot of sense. Let me explain,The "Say goodbye" line is a play on deku leaving U.A,and after that..Bakugou saids this,

"I don't have the strength to let it all end!"

Which is..f***ing heart breaking.. Alright let me bring this up,

---------------------------------------------------

Yes, Izuku's exhaustion and pain is the primary focus, but those tiny details imply that Katsuki Bakugou, the guy who has had a strict bedtime and diet his whole life, who puts every bit of effort into his own health, has completely disregarded his self-care to go after Izuku. Which also implies that his body didn't just move on its own when he risked his life for Izuku. It's further evidence that he isn't just trying to atone for his own sake. This guy straight up stopped taking care of himself because he was WORRIED for Izuku. He stopped sleeping in favor of searching. He reaggravated a very serious injury (one that he got already protecting Izuku) in order to protect him AGAIN.

Which..Makes sense... It shows more of a..Softer caring side of Bakugou. It explains it itself.

---------------------------------------------------

"I would give all and everything if we could mend,All I wanted was you to stay and not disappear,I've decided I will follow my heart,Promise yours will always be right near me.."

Wow. If this is Katsuki..Its makes a lot of sense.. He would give..A lot for him and dekus friendship to be better again. That's why he did the training with him.

He would do anything to make the connection with him and deku because..He,wants to mend with Midoriya. Repair the friendship..

But what is really interesting and important is,that,He said "I've decided I will follow my heart,promise yours will also be right near me!" Which means,it wasn't just not his mortal compass..It was also where his,Heart was leading him too..

Which means,Bakugou doesn't just want to mend things for sake of mortality and heroism,but also,it's because..He feels that he should. And I would say he feeling like he should do this because he feels bad for deku,BUT,he said he wants deku heart to stay near his..which means:

"Close to your heart" is an English idiom describing something or someone dearly loved. It can be used to describe anything that has earned a great deal of affection from a person, often through familiarity with it over time. The meaning of this phrase comes from the fact that the heart is considered the organ of the human body that is the source of all love and affection. As such, anyone or anything that resides close to it will be on the receiving end of those feelings."

❗❗❗❗❗

OHHHHHH----- KATSUKI---

It could be platonic-- but...he wants..There..Hearts to be close?? That's oddly specify..He could just say he want them to be close..The thing is,he didn't even have too say anything about hearts..Hearts are symbolized as,a love thing.

--------------------------------------------------

❗❗❗❗

You're probably asking "Why does this matter???" Well..Ummm..Look at the background. There bubbles,the trope which is used is called love bubbles.

A romantic moment in anime is often accompanied by a pastel background with lots of bubbles. Nobody knows who wanders into all these series with an invisible bubble machine, but maybe they should stop before they get soap in somebody's eye...

Is..Is he blushing..? That explains the bubble and sparkles..

--------------------------------------------------

HuH..???? HOW-

Look I don't know what to tell you.

But if that's not romantic,then I don't know what it is.

----------------------------------------

Peace sign is confirmed to be a bakugou and deku song. He calls this story,MY HERO ACADEMIA,"OUR STORY"...huh..Remember the song "Datte atashi no Hero?" He also called bakugou his hero. Let that sink in.

--------------------------------------------------

Remember shout baby...? Heres more crap to make Bakudeku romantic.

Let's go over that one line again..

Can't sugar code it. Nope. That's romantic in nature. Unless deku has fucking heart problems,this is romantic. No doubt on my end.

Heres something that just plain romantic.

"It’s frustrating that this unusual scent of hair made my heart flutter. So I hid my lips that’s forming a smile under my scarf.."

Wow... This sounds like Bakugou.

Let me explain why it does sounds like Bakugou. Frustration. About something small as that seems like him. It sounds like him too. And also,Bakugou rarely smiles.. I wonder what they where doing which made his heart flutter.

And why it's romantic..? Hear the way that's worded. The person hide the lips after their heart flutters.

--------------------------------------------------

Alright let's go here. This is a song that supposedly between Bakugou and Deku.

Let's see it here,

❗❗❗❗❗

And the kanji used for this song is not helping.

They use the words like "Suki" Suki is only plantoic when revfiring to non humans. Deku uses it to Katsuki at the end of the song in another translation like this,

Suki da suki da suki da suki da

Context clue:

Suki da,

好すだよ。

Suki da yo.

I like you.

This phrase is commonly used in everyday life. It reveals to the interlocutor that you have feelings for him. It is up to him to interpret the strength of your love.

To avoid misunderstandings, do not tell people with whom you have friendly relations. I already imagine your Japanese friends feeling uncomfortable because they think you are trying to get out of the friend-zone. 

Kimi ga daisuki da yo.

大だい好すだ。

Daisuki da.

I really like you.

Daisuki implies that you are a big fan of something when you talk about an object, food or a sports team. This is also the case when you talk about an artist, an athlete or some other famous personality.

But when you say that to someone, it implies that you have strong feelings for that person. These feelings must be beyond normal friendship.

........

*Sigh*

Here's more of the song

"Update! I want to fly, to fly, just to fly so far away, away from here. It can’t be anybody else, I don’t want anybody else. Because I don’t want to regret, I’ve got to say it now,I love, I love, I love, I love,I love being here with you."

The more I read into it. The more the song sounds like Katsuki. And it make sense if somewhat of update is sang by Katsuki.

Think about it. The song said this,

"It's not what you do,or what you say,it who you're with."

And if you think about,someone of these song lyrics sound like Katsuki himself.

This song is blunt. Blunter,then fuck,and you know who's blunt..?

Katsuki.

I'm not saying he sang all of it.. No. Update actually in the outro points about Deku and makes him the main focus. But,these lines make more sense for Bakugou then Deku,

"If you are, you are, you are, you are,If you are with me,Not back, not down, but the reason I was able to see the front only was,You were here"

Those lines make more sense for s5 bakugou and up,then s3 deku. Let me explain why. "The only reason I was able to see the front is because you where here" remember the apology..? If you don't it's chapter 322

Also for a second,let pay attention to this

It can’t be anybody else, I don’t want anybody else.

That's literally at least saying that Katsuki is VERY special to deku. And the context for this is that,who he'd run away with. It's basically saying he'd spend his life with Katsuki away from everybody else..and he would be..Fine..?

That really saying something about his favoritism to Katsuki-

----------•-----------•-----------•-------------•

SEE WHATS WRONG...? If ya don't then,here;

It's really just explains itself,Katsuki and Deku are the only ones here.

----------•-----------•-----------•-------------•

Tags: #bakudeku #decchan #bkdk #Izuku x Katsuki #bkdk canon #katsudeku #deku x kacchan #dkkt #dkbk #wonder duo #bakugou x deku #deku x bakugou #dekugou #dekugo #dekubaku #dyandeku #midoriya x bakugou #bakugou x midoriya #bakumido #bakudeku analysis #bakudoriya #bkdk fluff #bkdk soulmates #Katsuki x Izuku #katsuki x deku #deku bakugou #mha bkdk #long post #twin stars

#bakudeku #decchan #bkdk #izuku x katsuki #bkdk canon #katsudeku #deku x kacchan #dkkt #dkbk #wonder duo #bakugo x deku #deku x bakugou #dekugou #dekugo #dekubaku #dynadeku #midoriya x bakugou #bakugou x midoriya #bakumido #bakudeku analysis #bakudoriya #bkdk fluff #bkdk soulmates #katsuki x izuku #katsuki x deku #deku x bakugo #mha bkdk #long post #twin stars #Youtube

[lavenderjacobs]

fluff alphabet - Sapnap

➳ wc; 2,1K (she’s a long one lol)  ➳ pronouns; gender neutral<3 ➳ song reccomendation; heart eyes - coin

A=Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a partner?)

nick’s an ass guy and you can’t convince me otherwise. he’s also just loves your thighs and your stomach. he loves how soft your skin is, and how good you smell. whenever he’s sad he just rests his head on your stomach while you tangle you fingers in his hair. 

B=Best memory (Their favourite memory of you)

he cherishes your first kiss so much. he just has such a soft spot for that memory. the moment he finally found out you felt the same about him, the moment he finally found out what your lips against his felt like. it’s just something he had looked forward to for forever, and to him, it was perfect. 

C=Cuddles  (What type of cuddles do they like?)

sapnap is a WHORE for cuddles. if it where up to him, you two would just lay in bed all day, tangled in each other’s arms. after a long day, he just wants to hold his favourite person and fall asleep with them, so he just wraps his arms around your waist while he uses your chest as a pillow. but if he’s in a chatty mood, he’ll just talk your ears off, ranting about something he finds interesting, while you’re all snuggled up in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

D=Dirty mind (Do they have a dirty mind?)

I mean, come on. it’s sapnap. we all know he does. he gets *excited* very easily, which can sometimes get in the way when you two are just trying to cuddle. he just has such a soft spot for your body and has to have his way with you once certain ideas have entered his mind. 

E=Effort (How much effort do they put in the relationship?)

nick would definitely try his best. honestly you don't care if his plans actually turn out the way he intented them to, it's the thought that counts. and nick knows that. but theres just something about you that makes him want to spoil you and treat you like a princess. so prepare yourself for fancy dates, him making you your favorite food, all that type of stuff.

F=First date (What was your first date together)

arcade date arcade date arcade date. sap is super competitive and I feel like he would thrive in an arcade. he would play it off like he was just trying to proof how good he was at the arcade games. but he'd just love to see how hard you would be trying to beat him. obviously he'd let you win a lot, and when he collected enough tickets, he would get you the biggest prize he could find.

G=Gentle (How gentle are they with you?)

it....depends???? lmao. nick CAN be super gentle with you, he’s pretty protective of you and would never want you to get hurt, so he’s definitely very careful not to do anything to hurt you. but sometimes his instinct just kinda takes over and well, he can get pretty rough. 

H=Hands (Do they have nice hands?)

hmmm nick has like,,very manly hands,, if you know what i mean. i dont know, they're just so rough but yet so pretty??? and they're like really big compared to yours so when he holds ur hand, yours looks so tiny in his. and omg he won't shut up about it. "LOOK AT YOUR HANDS THEY'RE SO SMALL🥺"

I=Impression (What was their first impression?)

he just thought you were so ~cool~. like he immediately knew he wanted to be your friend. he was just so in awe of how funny, chill and charismatic you were. and it literally took two days for him to develop a crush on you. his friends would notice this right away and tease him about it so much omg.

J=Jealousy (Do they get jealous often? If so what do they do?)

YUP. nick gets jealous so easy yup yup yup. jealousy, protectiveness, possessiveness, you name it. you two would often get in fights about this, but most of the time you would just think it’s cute how riled up he gets. he doesn’t get mad at you (because you’re his precious little baby and can do no wrong in his eyes :D) but god help the souls of whoever tries to flirt with you, because they’ve got a hell of a storm coming.

K=Kisses (What type of kisses do they like/give?)

god nick’s such a passionate kisser. or at least he can be lol. he loves the way your face fits into his hands, and how soft your lips are. so he definitely is a fan of just some wholesome passionate kisses. but damn this man gets sloppy when he wants to. his lips constantly trails off to your jaw, neck and collar bones.

L=Love  (Do they show their love?)

i feel like his love language would be like a mix between words of affection and physical touch??? he’s definitely very verbal with his love for you. he doesn’t shy away from saying i love you or letting you know how much he appreciates you in any other way.

M=Memory: (Their favourite memory in general?)

there are certain moments where nick just sits back, watches, and realizes how amazing his life is. and how grateful he is to have you. for example, you were playing minecraft on his pc, and your house kept getting blown up by creepers, he found it adorable how mad you got every time. he just watched you play, while sitting on his bed. after a while, you looked over at him, and caught him staring. “what?” you asked after letting out a soft chuckle. he felt like he was gonna explode from how much he loved you. 

N=Nickname  (What nicknames do they call you?)  

i’m getting very strong “baby” and “doll” vibes from nick. he loves baby-ing you and smothering you with other loving nicknames. just any petnames that show how much he loves you he’s all for. he would also love calling you “pretty” or “beautiful” for obvious reasons. 

O=Over  (What happened the one time you ‘broke up’?)

nick HATES fighting with you, but once you two get into an argument he can get pretty carried away. he’s definitely the type to let his emotions get the upper hand on him. raising his voice a lot, stuff like that. but the second you leave to get some space he just breaks down. sliding down the wall and resting his face in his hands, just letting all the emotions out. he never meant to hurt you. when you came back to him, ready to be enclosed in his arms again, he had a hard time letting you back in. he just felt like he didn’t deserve you after he treated you like this. it took some convincing, but once you broke down his walls again, it was like he gave you all the love in his body. just smothering you with “i’m sorry”s and kisses. 

P=Parents (What would they be like as a parent?)

dilfnap dilfnap dilfnap  omg he’d be such a good dad. like just very caring and loving, but also strict and stern when he needs to be. he’d constantly be telling stories to the kids about the absurd adventures him and his friends would get into, and omg the dad jokes he’d make. idk maybe it’s my daddy issues but dad sapnap lives in my mind rent free. 

Q=Quirk (Something special about them)

he loves holding your hand. especially in public. if you’re in a crowded space, he just holds onto you very tightly as not to lose you. or if you two are just going on a walk together, his hands would just feel so warm and soft around yours. and omg he loves it when his hands are in his pockets, and you put your hands in there with him, and intertwine your fingers with his. hmmm he gets so soft when you do that.

R=Romantic (How romantic are they?)

i- uh- I MEAN HE WOULD TRY he really would, and again, that’s all that matters. I feel like he would be the type to try to prepare a whole surprise dinner, he would cook all the food himself, he would set the table all cute, with candles and shit, but just completely ruin the surprise by accidentally giving it all away by saying something or just behaving very obviously suspicious. 

S=Sad (What are they like when they’re sad?)

he just gets really quiet. he would never want to bother you or be a pain in the ass by complaining to you. but obviously you notice when something is wrong with ur bby boy. a sentence like “are you okay?” or “what’s wrong?” would immediately send him over the edge, burying his face in your chest, trying his best to supress his sobs. but he eventually calms down, and once he does, he’s able to just rant to you about whatever is bothering him.

T=Together (What are they like when you’re together?)

i feel like it would really depend on his mood, like he could be either SUPER chill, just wanting to savour the time you two had together. or he could be really hyper, constantly talking, wanting to do all kinds of activities with you. he’d be the literal definition of :D

U=Understanding (How understanding and empathetic are they?)

very. i just get such empathetic vibes from him. he’s such a good listener and he’ll just listen to you talk whenever you have something to be upset about. he never invalidates your feelings and omg he’d give the best advice. 

V=Value (What do they value most about the relationship?)

he loves that he can 100% be his self around you. there’s no part of his personality that he feels like he has to hide, or tone down, whenever he’s with you. you also aspire him to be his best self, he just wants to be the best boyfriend in the world. all his friends have noticed this too, you bring out the best in him.

W=Wedding (Would they want marriage? If so what would they like?)

eh. if you’re a person who really values marriage, he’d 100% do it for you. but it’s not like he HAS to. he gets a bit scared by the idea of this whole big event, where everything is about you two, he would way rather celebrate the love you two have in the comfort of your own home, just the two of you. the one thing he would love about a wedding, would be seeing you all dolled up, walking down the aisle, omg he’d be the proudest man ever to be able to call you his.

X=X-Ray (How well can they read you?)

the SECOND you start to feel sad or depressed in any way, nick notices immediately. he knows you better than anybody else, and he knows exactly what to do to cheer you up. it’s like his superpower. if you’re feeling anxious he’ll just wrap his arms around you really tightly, holding on to you until you calm down. and when you’re sad, and in need for something to cheer you up, he’ll take you outside for a walk in the park, or he’ll just sit in bed with you, watching your favourite show. 

Y=Yuck (What they would never want in a partner)

he hates when you flirt with his friend, even when you’re very obviously joking. his jealous ass can’t deal with that lmao. he also gets super pissed when his friends make flirtatious jokes towards you, they know how much it gets on his nerves and that’s really the only reason they do it. but omg he gets so pissed when it happens. 

Zzz (How do they sleep around you?)

nick would be the cutest sleeper ever omg. he doesn’t like to admit it, but he loves being little spoon. he loves resting his head on your chest, while you play with his hair, patiently waiting for him to fall asleep. 

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #sapnap fanfic #sapnap x y/n #sapnap drabble #sapnap fluff #sapnap fluff alphabet #sapnap headcanon #sapnap headcanons #sapnap headcannon #sapnap dream smp #sapnap dsmp #sapnap dream team #sapnap angst #fluff alphabet #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x y/n #mcyt drabble #mcyt fluff #mcyt fluff alphabet #mcyt headcanon #mcyt headcanons #mcyt headcannon #mcyt headcannons #catb0ykarl writes

[bangtanlalaland]

around the way girl | knj (m.)

synopsis ↳namjoon kim was the man you’d fallen in love with in college, while existing in a society where ambw relationships are rare.

→part of the bring it back collection!

— 1990’s!au; strangers to lovers!au

→pairing: underground rapper!kim namjoon x beauty supply store worker!black female reader

→genre: fluff, smut

→word count: 4.7k+

→contents ⨯ warnings: that beautiful, interracial love (AMBW) [if you’re racist, fuck off my page!] some major fluff action here, joon is so soft, (I stg he’s a dom but also a hopeless romantic. the DUALITY. agsgsjlldlejd), rapper joon makes an appearance, sweet love making, name calling (cute shit, I promise), also the use of DADDY, lots of kissing and caressing, body worshiping, oral (f receiving), protected sex (no glove, no love baby), fingering, over-stimulation, namjoon is so inspired by hip hop culture, y’all I tried really hard to sprinkle some 90′s vibes in there so bare with me ok,

a/n: heyyyy loves! I wanted to do something different, considering that I hardly come across any fics (specifically BTS) with a woc or simply a black reader. so here’s one to all of my beautiful, black queens out there! much love to you all & I want you to know I am here & stand with you.  

song rec: “around the way girl” by ll cool j

☞ disclaimer: If any of the warnings listed above offends you in any way, please do not read. It is not my intention to start any sort of debate/argument in regards to racism, culture appropriation, etc. Therefore if any characters, settings, and/or facts/statements are incorrect, please disregard. However, this body of text is for entertainment purposes only. All characters, settings, scenarios, and dialogue are fictitious. Any similarity to events or persons, whether living or dead, is coincidental.

It was like a movie, from start to finish. Growing up, times were hard and challenges never ceased to fade. But, you pushed through — the good, the bad, and the ugly. Lost ones along the way, realized you couldn’t trust everyone, but you grew. As an independent, young, black woman living in America. And then something happened, that changed everything.

The year of 1998, when fall semester classes at your college just ended, which called for finding a seasonal job for the time being. And that’s how you ended up working at Queen Beauty Supply about two blocks from your place. You grew up knowing Mr. Park (who is the owner and now your boss) all your life. As you were a child, your mother supported his business, always stocking up on flexi rods, Just for Me relaxers, Goody brushes, and all. Even the endless amounts of barrette balls of every color you could think of, she made sure you had. And seeing that you blossomed, Mr. Park was more than honored to hire you for a seasonal gig. You loved him as if he was your family, just as well as he loved you.

It all started that one evening when you worked the register, fancy-ing some Poetic Justice-style braids, showcasing your figure with a halter top and mom jeans. A small stereo behind you blared the latest hits on the radio, Jon B currently on play. You flipped through the latest issue of Word Up! Magazine, admiring the new spread that featured Mya, Monica, and Brandy — your two in. acrylic, nails dragging across the pages. The sound of the bell jingles over the door, indicating the arrival of a customer. Your gaze turns up to greet said customer, and your eyes meet with the fellow that entered.

And damn were you blown away for a hot sec. He was cute, really cute. You hadn’t even realized he asked you something, while standing in front of you on the opposite side of the counter. He’s Asian, obviously. His eyes having told it all. They were different, not shaped like yours, but beautiful. Which was intriguing. But him simple being here in a beauty supply store was interesting, Yes, it’s ironic. The owner himself being Asian, but the intended audience is your fellow black folks. You could tell he’s obviously inspired by your culture since he sported a bucket hat and a loose, white tee that may have been just two sizes too big for him — which is rare nowadays to find on an Asian man. But, you don’t question it. Of course, you’re well aware people of all races are influenced by hip hop culture so in a way, it doesn’t surprise you as much. Okay, maybe a little. But still.

“Can I help you?” His eyes did a weird thing, but it was cute. He was cute.

“Do you have du-rags here?” Your eyebrows raise and head cocks to the side, having abandoned the magazine you were just reading.

“What do you want with a du-rag?” You question, knowing well the texture of his hair can’t form into waves, so you suppose it’s for a fashion statement. He starts blushing, his eyes shut and beautiful pearly whites on display. Damn, did he have you hooked on the spot and you didn’t even know his name yet. You had to hurry up and get him out of here for your own sake, so you took the lead. A few beats passed before he realized you were leading the way to what he needed. He stumbled a little.

“It’s uh- For my performance,” He slips, trailing behind you while passing by the rows of hair-care products, leading towards the back of the store.

“Performance? You dance?” You question, while strutting down the row of where the brushes, combs, barrettes and the jewelry wall was displayed — purposely swaying your hips back and forth just a tad too much for dramatic effect. He definitely noticed, his eyes glued to your form and wondering how your jeans could mold those curves so perfectly.

He blushes at the thought but replies, “I’m a rapper,” And that’s when you stop in your tracks, flipping your braids behind your back and placing your hand on your hip, giving him the same expression that you gave at the counter.

“A rapper?” You ask, while taking him in from head to toe. You notice his white Air Force Ones.

Damn, he is so fine.

He has style, you’ll admit that. But an Asian rapper? That’s unheard of, at least in your neighborhood.

“Do you, boo.” You shrug, while gesturing toward the wall on your left, that displayed various colors of du-rags. You step away to return to the register and then he speaks again.

“What about Blue Magic?” As if he hadn’t surprised you enough, you cross your arms, facing him.

“Well…. it depends on what you want.” You pause, and roll on your heels to walk again, he follows behind you.

“We have coconut oil, but the hair food is out of stock right now. The hair and scalp treatment is limited quantity, but we do have Castor Oil and Super Sure Gro.” You arrive at the row of hair care products, with numerous brands of oils, treatments, and more that cover the shelves. After leaving him there, you admired the way his eyes were shot wide, and you knew damn well he was not 100% sure of what he was looking at — as he searched for the product that piqued his interest.

And so it became a regular occurrence. He’d come in at least once every two weeks, buying the same thing. A du-rag and Super Sure Gro. Some days you’d even be a little extra to “up” your appearance, in hopes he’d notice or in some fantasy world, he’d compliment you. Maybe even ask about you or your day. Or if you’d like to go watch a movie with him or even hit up a spot for some good food. You ponder if he’d be into trying soul food someday. Your mom always did say that a way into a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, more-so implying that you should know how to get down and dirty in the kitchen.

—

The bell jingles again, while you’re out on the floor stocking up the shelves with bottles of Luster’s Pink Oil Formula. Reaching below into the box to grab a few more bottles, you hadn’t noticed he was towering above you. You jumped slightly when you meet eyes with him, nearly dropping the contents you held onto.

“Don’t you know not to run up on a black woman like that? I may be little, but I can kick your ass!” You both break out into a contagious laugh. He stuffs his hands into his baggy jeans of his, that gorgeous smile spreads across his face. He clears his throat,

“I- Uh- I’m- I’m sorry, I-”

You shake it off, “You’re fine, boo.” Your hand finds its way into his shoulder, a light rub as you brush past him to head for the register. He hesitates, trailing behind you as he fights for the right words to say.

“I-I just, I-” You reach the front of the counter and turn to make eye contact with him. Your eyebrows raise slightly, taking in how he’s struggling to piece his words together. You place your hand on his shoulder again and note how he gazes at you with those same wide eyes you’d grown familiar with over the past few weeks. His lips parted slightly as if he was going to say something but didn’t.

“It’s okay-” You trail off, in hopes he’d catch on.

“Oh, right. N-namjoon. My name is Namjoon.”

You smile in response, lightly rubbing his arm with your palm.

“Is there…. Something you want to say? I promise, I don’t bite,” You state with a soft smile. You notice his shoulders easing themselves down. Part of you wonders what he was so tense for.

“You should come to my performance-” He says rapidly then pauses, looking down and then back up to you, “I would like it- I mean I think that you- You would like my performance.” He internally hates himself for being shy around you, his cheeks so tight and raised from smiling hard, and you could have literally melt in that moment. You thought it was cute to see him that way. To know you made him feel all flustered.

There was a grand amount of effort he’d built to approach you. The very, first day he arrived at the store, he wanted to say something then. He went home that night rehearsing how he’d spark up a conversation with you. He even recalls one time he’d seen you at a bus stop sucking on a lollipop, and how tempted he was to say something then. But he couldn’t. He was afraid of rejection, and he wasn’t sure how to approach you. So when he’d visit the beaut store and see your face, he’d grow warm on the inside. And when you would make eye contact with him, his heart would stop. When you would speak to him with that sweet voice of yours, he’d freeze.

So when you said yes you would be there, he cried afterwards. Not in front of you of course, but on the bus back to his place. He couldn’t believe that you didn’t reject him. Throughout the weeks, he’d contemplated because he didn’t know how you felt about people of his race. He didn’t know how your race felt about people like him in general. Although, it never mattered to him. Because he believed that love is love. As long as you’re happy with that person, that is all what truly matters. He believed everyone deserves to have that kind of love. Little did he know, you felt the same way.

And then things advanced between the two of you.

It was the night he invited you to an underground party, and it was live. Music thumped with never-ending bass, people danced and smoked, and the space felt warm and cluttered, courtesy of body heat. You gradually ease your way through the space, attempting to find some kind of “safe haven” amongst the grinding, moving bodies within the cramped atmosphere. The music settles down, which causes you to look ahead, realizing you’re in front of the stage where the DJ is posted up on the left.

“Alright, y’all! You already know what time it is.” The DJ blatantly announces through his microphone. The crowd somewhat reacts, but not to his liking you assume.

“I said… Y’all already know what time it is!” Everyone goes wild, screaming, chanting and whistling.

“Tonight, I wanna welcome y’all my boy. From the East side, he’s an up and coming rapper- Y’all check this,” He pauses for a moment, “He is a Korean rapper! Y’all feel me? What y’all know about a Korean rapper, aight?” He shakes his head throwing his hands up.

“Imma let y’all have this one, but I’m tellin’ y’all! You don’t know nothing bout this!” You smile uncontrollably, aware of who he’s talking about. Also somewhat anxious to see what the hype is about, your nerves making your stomach churn just a little too much while you’re out in public.

“Give it up for my boy, RM!” The DJ, swivels the record on his turntable back and forth. And there Namjoon was, appearing from the side of the stage, with his du-rag and bucket hat, loose tee, baggy jeans, and those familiar Air Force Ones you’d grown to recognize. You also peep the Cuban chain that adorns his neck.

And then the beat kicks in. Which was also familiar, you note that it’s the beat for “I Need Love.” Everyone starts bobbing their heads, including him. Including you.

He throws his hand up, shoving gestures to go along with the rhythm of the music, while using his other hand to firmly hold onto his mic.

“I’d like to introduce myself, The name is RM, Let’s rewind and take you back to when it first started, Very first time that I walked in the shop, I was startled and I swear I had felt my heart drop, You made me wanna get down on my knees, Begging, please, Coulda told you I was sprung the moment I seen ya,”

He makes eye contact with you and points directly in your direction. He’s talking about you, right? He’s got to be. There’s no way he isn’t. You continue bobbing your head to the beat, and you can’t fight the smile in return.

“Dang baby, how’d you fit in those jeans? Hips got a brother feeling like he’s in a dream, Couldn’t even keep my head straight, Yeah I’m Asian but damn, Somethin’ must have went left and messed up my fam, Sittin’, thinkin’, contemplatin’, and wonderin’, How could I get this fine lil shawty to blushin’? Hopin’ that you’ll say yes and lemme steal you from the scene, Treat you like a queen and show you what a real man can be,”

He stares at you for a moment too long, yet you’ve already grown too hot for the jean jacket you’re wearing over your tube top.

“I need love,” he adds before dropping the mic; everyone suddenly is hype, continuously cheering him on and giving him props for his performance.

“I told y’all! Give it up for my boy, RM!” The DJ adds, patting him on the back while smiling from ear to ear. But, his eyes are focused on you, and only you — who just can’t seem to shake off the bright smile plastered on your face, you attentively graze your bottom lip with your teeth to attempt stopping yourself from smiling so much. But, you fail. And he takes note of that, returning a smile to you. You could tell he’s blushing, his dimples appearing before he dips his head low.

So shy, yet so damn fine. How is that even possible?

—

That same week, he surprised you at work, stumbling in to rap a few verses about how beautiful you are to him, and he pulled a bouquet of roses he hid from behind his back. You remembered that day so clearly. You remembered kissing him, hugging him, holding his hand, smelling the flowers. You also remembered Mr. Park interrupting your little PDA session to scold you about: “No kissing and no sex on the clock!”

But, Namjoon loved you more than you could think. And he didn’t care who in the world thought it was wrong for you two to fall in love. Because the night you two had arrived at his apartment, lips intertwined with one another, and hands roaming each others bodies, was when everything became so clear.

You both stumble inside, too wrapped up in locking lips with one another. Namjoon guides you toward his bedroom; and being the klutz he is, he stubs his shoe on the baseboard leading to his bedroom. You both break the kiss, and you can’t help but chuckle at his clumsy ways.

“Why you laughing at me, huh?” He lifts you up and you can’t help the half gasp/half giggle that escapes your lips, immediately wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bed. He gently lies you down on your back and hovers above you. You unexpectedly snatch his bucket hat off, tossing it somewhere on the floor — his faded, white-blonde and dark brown strands on display.

“Did you have to do my Kangol like that?” He whines with furrowed brows. You tap his bottom lip, dragging your finger across the plump flesh.

“Shut up and kiss me.” His gold Cuban link chain hangs from his neck, prompting your fingers to tug it down, and you do so, his lips smashing with yours yet again. Your fingers lace themselves within his hair, admiring the feel of his oiled scalp. His lips massage yours in a way that’s beyond comforting, and you make sure to inform him how nostalgic kissing feels. Drawn-out moans spew from you, and you can’t help but wonder how in the hell could you be in this time and moment with him. Piece by piece all of your garments end up lost on the ground, along with his clothing. He had you caged in to his bed and kept himself hovered over you, planting kisses along your neck trailing down to your collarbone.

“Mmm, Joon.” You follow his lead, kissing his blush-colored lips, snaking through his silky strands. His hands travel behind your back to remove your lace bra, revealing your breasts that illuminate from the moonlight peeking through the blinds of his window, your chocolate nipples hardened and desperate for attention. His eyes are blown wide, cherishing every dip and curve of your body.

“Wow,” He admits, his erection growing behind his undergarment. He holds a few moments to etch this view of you within his memory, appreciating every trait of your being in this form. His hands find placement on your hips, pulling you to his body completely — the soft, plushness of your breasts pushed against his chest. He rubs the outline of your face, slowly dragging his index finger along your jawline.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world. You know that?” You let out a small giggle, feeling vulnerable in this state. He kisses you, being sure to suck your bottom lip, pulling and tugging softly with his teeth. His hands roam down your back and land on your ass cheeks, gripping with force. Your breath hitches, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck, in hopes to ease him in just a little more. Even though physically it isn’t possible. He teases your bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue, asking for entrance.

And you let him in, sucking and licking him back in response, both of yours saliva mixing with each others, and not a care in the world — too consumed in each other. He gropes your ass, causing a moan to slip from you. His large palms kneading the cushion-y flesh, and damn is he grateful for this moment in time with you. He pulls from your lips with an audible smack, and you relish in the sight of his thick lips all swollen and damp.

“I love you, ____” He admits with those delightful irises.

“I love you too, Namjoon.” He guides you to lie down on your back, hovering above you as he places kisses along your jawline, leading down your neck, taking his time to cherish every part of you. His hands roam along your sides, caressing the curves of your body. He kisses the area between your breasts and stops suddenly, eyeing you for approval. As if understanding, you nod. His tongue peeks out and circles your right nipple, he wraps his lips around the bud and sucks with tenderness, making sure to release with a pop each time while his other hand massages your left breast.

Your core aches as a result, needing to feel him so the void inside your walls can be filled. He repeats this with your other tit, sucking your nipple while massaging the other, pinching and rolling the bud between his fingers. Your core throbs with an intense pleasure, soaking your now soiled panties. He eases down further, planting kisses down your tummy and moving along the inner thighs of your mocha skin, praising the smooth, supple, flesh. His fingers tug the band of your lace panties, and he eyes you again for approval.

“Please,” You plead, and it was all he needed to hear to remove the garment and reveal yourself to him, treasuring the sight of your lips dripping from arousal. He wastes no time, as you feel his warm, wet muscle gliding along your folds, his nose nuzzling your clit in the process. Your fingers snake into his hair and hips buck upwards to move along the rhythmic motions of his tongue, while he devours you whole as if he’d become a man starved.

“Joon!” You praise, panting for air, Your gaze follows between your legs, cherishing the man that continues to eat you out. He watches your expressions, glaring deeply into your eyes as he does so. His fingers ease toward your folds, rubbing his digits along your drenched pussy, coating them with your wet. He watches you still, not wanting to leave your gaze as he enters a finger inside you. You moan his name in response. His finger delves deep within you, your walls sucking him in perfectly.

“So good for me,” He lashes his tongue out to lick your clit in a circular motion. The sight of him between your thighs makes your heart quiver. He deliberately adds a second finger, his lengthy digits curling themselves upwards and dragging along the walls of your womanhood. His nails dig along the flesh of your thighs, keeping you settled and under his grip, his lips suck on your clit til no end. His obscene noises send a shockwave of pleasure through you, and your toes curl at the sensation. He pulls his fingers from out of you and tastes your arousal that clings to him.

“Tastes so good,” He moans, and you can’t help your thighs from rubbing together to ease the tension that has built. Then, he blushes at the view of you, all horny and ready for him. Only him. How can he be so cute and so fine at the same time? You ask yourself this everyday. Your legs move on their own accord, struggling to draw him back in. He chuckles at your actions.

“You want more, baby?” He questions in that deep, sexy voice of his.

You nod in reply, “Yes, Joon. Please, daddy?” His famous dimples reappear, and those mesmerizing, pearly whites appear. He dives back down, trailing kisses along your tummy, leading to your mound. He worships your body as he had wanted to do since the day he met you, gripping and rubbing along your skin. He moans against you, admiring the feel of you under his fingertips. His lips encase around your clit again, and your body jerks from the sudden feeling. His tongue slides along your folds, sucking and slurping, making the most lewd noises.

His fingernails drag along your thighs, adding an odd tingle within you. You follow his motions and graze your nails on top of his hand, when an unexpected bliss washes over you — causing you to writhe underneath him. He continues sucking your clitoris until you can’t take anymore, your legs gliding up an down along his back, back arching off the mattress, eyebrows furrowing and you simply drowning in euphoria with trembling thighs as your nails drag along his scalp and your cries echo within his eardrums.

“Joon, daddy!” Your nails dig further into his hand, and fingers tug harshly onto his strands. Your core now sensitive to the touch, something you’d never experienced before. He moves his head back and forth, delving deeper and not wanting to let go. You scratch his back, now in hopes he’d give up. You’re nearly convinced he’s going to kill you with that tongue of his, and then out of nowhere, he pushes two fingers inside you. Your toes curl for what feels like the millionth time, and you whimper his name repeatedly.

He thrusts his digits into you, a loud squelching noise filling up the space. And you feel those plush lips wrap around your clit again. He ruts against the bed, wanting to feed the tension within his groin. Your feet now having fought the sheets you lay upon, twisting and turning due to the over-sensitivity. But in some strange sentiment, there’s another wave. And here you are having your second orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, Ungh- I’m cumming again!” Your body shakes violently, not having control over the orgasm that’s overtaken you. An uncontrollable scream slips out and you shove Namjoon away from you with a strained push, his chin now glistening with you. He wipes the residue from his face with the back of his hand, grinning at you fucked out and waiting on his bed. He pulls a condom from somewhere in his drawer and wraps himself up.

He was so thick, thicker than you thought. You lay flat on your tummy and Namjoon sets himself on top of you, caging you in again. He notes the glow upon your ebony skin as he coats his protected member with your drenched self, adding a line of his own saliva and finally diving into you with every inch he has, at a slow, steady pace. But the places he reaches leave you wondering what you’d done to deserve this kind of dick.

Magnificent.

“Beautiful, black queen,” he slips in between breaths, rocking his hips against yours. The position granting him a much deeper access. You gasp at his remark, clenching your walls tighter around him, he hisses in response. His warm breath fans the right side of your face, and he presses a kiss along your earlobe while adding,

“All mine. You’re my black queen, understand? Can’t nobody take that away from me.”

“Yes Namjoon,” You reply. “I’m all yours.”

His cock twitches at the sound of his name slipping from your lips within this state — having you underneath him like this, needy, desperate, and only craving him. He inches to meet your lips with his. His kisses are filled with want and desire, full of love. That sweet, sweet love.

“Give it to me daddy,” You say under your breath but audible enough for him to hear, and he takes heed to continue thrusting himself into you, his delicate, golden skin glimmering with perspiration. The sound of your bodies clapping against each other resonate throughout his apartment, as soft whimpers and moans fall from you, and he utilizes every millisecond of this moment to drown himself in your presence.

“So tight, so wet. So beautiful.” His hips buck in a gentle, yet stern manner, causing your body to jerk upward and eyes to shut close in response — his balls slapping your ass with each thrust of his hips, he continuously hits that sweet spot over and over again, your eyes rolling back due to the nostalgia. He eases his fingers in between your legs to rub circles into your clit simultaneously, and it doesn’t take long for your walls to contract for the third time that night.

“Fuck baby,” He coos with followed moans and groans, spilling himself while still buried in you. You shudder underneath him with nails dragging along the sheets, and muffled moans from burying your face, as you call out his name like it was the only function your brain could process.

He eases himself out of you, and you can’t help the low gasp that emits from you — having been so full of him and sensitive at the same time. A few moments later, and the slight shift of the bed indicates he vanished to discard the condom. You simply lay there, slowly processing that he’d given you the best sex you’ve ever had, being that his main focus was pleasuring you.

But it was in those final moments when Namjoon cuddled you afterwards, bodies attached together by sweat, gasping for air and basking himself in the warm, vanilla, sugar aroma of your essence — that he knew he was in love with you. And there was nothing anyone could ever say to change his feelings.

You break the silence having thought of Namjoon’s words you recall from his performance.

“Think you’ve found it?” He watches your form with raised eyebrows.

“Found what?” You trace circles along his chest, gazing upon his abdomen.

“Love,” You state, and a silence falls that makes your body warm up in a flash.

He shakes his head in a “no” gesture, “I don’t think I have.” The sudden pause of his sentence makes your heart drop.

“I know I have.” He kisses your forehead and draws you closer to him, holding onto you for dear life — like he’s afraid he’d lose you. You beam at his gesture, curling up into his figure. His heart thumps from the immense affection between the two of you. Your now closed eyes like an irreplaceable gift to him.

“My around the way girl,” He whispers to himself, while petting your hair and drifting off into slumber.

#houseofddaeng #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #btsgoldnet #mikrogalaxynet #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #rm fluff #rm smut #bts fluff #bts smut #kim namjoon #ambw #bts ambw #bangtanlalaland

[historyofshipping]

My massive Bellarke is epic and here’s proof from s5-7 rant.

Ok guys I cannot stress enough that I am drunk, this is long, it has strong language, and it’s a trip. I am putting it almost all under a cut because it is 20 f*ing pages on word.

For reference: this was on a discord chat and I am removing all names and a few other things but there will be absolutely no editing. Anything in straight text is me, anything in italics is someone else (there’s several different someone elses so people are separated by line breaks). On my page I think it appears as everything grey is someone else, everything black is me. I’m going to put the beginning on here and rest under the cut. If you’re still going through with this, I suggest some popcorn.

Guys... I'm trying to stay optimistic but I'm really worried that jroth is gonna make bellarke canon in a really disappointing way. Like for me infidelity is a huge no in ships and I hate that becho has gone on so long that there doesn't seem to be a lot of room left in the canon timeline for a becho breakup/end that doesn't ruin the start of Bellarke for me

WAIT I GOT YOU I CAN CALM YOU I THINK BUT FIRST I NEED TO EAT MY BREADSTICKS

Every moment Echo is on the screen I want to claw my eyes out because she's so boring please jroth let it fucking end, but the feminist in me doesn't want her to die or be disrespected just because she's a callous asshole who doesn't deserve him yknow

Eat your breadsticks babe I've been living with my dread for 2 seasons I can hang on a little longer I just wish the entire becho relationship had never happened it's a blight and it's gone on so long adenfkidsngksdgnksdgn

Kate will say it better than I will, but don't lose hope! Becho hasn't really been together on screen for very long. It's only been like a few weeks to a month since the beginning of S5. They've stretched it out over two seasons, but in canon not much time has passed. And most of that time had Bellamy either sacrificing almost 300 lives to save Clarke, poisoning his sister to save Clarke, or fucking off into the wilderness with Josephine to save Clarke. They've just straight up not had enough time for Bellamy to be like, "Hey Echo, I know I said things wouldn't change but that was before my wife was actually alive, so bye." Though  to wishing Becho had just never happened. We got one good angst scene with Clarke seeing them kiss. But otherwise, I could have very much done without their whole relationship.

they gave me 2 dozen breadsticks. i ordered 6

You've been blessed by the breadstick goddess.

oh sorry i was misinformed. i only have 22. apparently one bag only had 4 OK SO BELLARKE BITCHES AM I GOING TO ANNOYINGLY DO THIS IN CAPS SO BUCKLE TF UP

I mean, I love the idea that they only got together in the sixth year on the ring when Bellamy totally lost hope but is that canon? I thought we had a 3 year range

ALL RIGHT

We ignore canon in this channel. lol They've been together for 3 months.

SO LET'S START AT THE BEGINNING OF BECHO ok caps off. i even annoyed myself

I'm so here for this.

https://tenor.com/view/murder-she-wrote-angela-lansbury-jessica-eats-popcorn-interested-gif-4594942

Damn, I was ready for caps.

OK WE'RE BACK TO CAPS

https://giphy.com/gifs/popcorn-go-on-keep-going-Zd1BUb0qs6nwjeMUBu

OK SO WE HAVE BECHO'S FIRST SCENE TOGETHER ANYONE REMEMBER WHAT BELLAMY SAID? ANYONE? THIS REQUIRES AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION

"Hey work with me so I can break everyone out of this mountain"? or something?

OH DAMN I MEANT WHEN THEY WERE CANONICALLY TOGETHER XP

"I'm a goddamn delight who's trying to save your life you ungrateful walnut so maybe don't spit in my face" is what I would have written

LMFAO OJN THE RING WHAT'S THE FIRST THING WE HEAR FROM THEM? THE FIRST IMPORTANT THING? ANYONE?

Unfortunately that scene was physically repulsive for me so I don't remember much except for "nothing will change on the ground and my sister totally didn't mean to murder you"

AHA! THERE YA GO NOTHING WILL CHANGE ON TEH GROUND BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EXPECTING ON THE GROUND? NOTHING TO CHANGE BECAUSE THE ONLY THING THAT COULD CHANGE IS -----

>"I'm a goddamn delight who's trying to save your life you ungrateful walnut so maybe don't spit in my face" is what I would have written I SPIT OUT MY DRINK I CANNOT

ANYONE? YUP

I'm behind. lol

CLARKE

AND THEN WE GOT TO THE GROUND, WHAT HAPPENED?

BEING ALIVE

His sister having more taste in his romantic partners than him?

WHAT WAS THE LITERAL ONE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN THAT WOULD CHANGE BELLAMY'S MIND DING DING DING CLARKE IS ALIVE

10 points to 

AND WHAT DOES OUR BABY BOY DO?

SACRIFICE 300 PEEPS FOR HIS WIFE

Clarke with a gun AND a kid AND a rover AND bedtime storytelling practice like what more could he want that's all the things he loves

A LITTLE AHEAD BUT BANG

BABY BOY FOLLOWS CLARKS DAUGHTER FIRST, LEAVING ECHO IN THE LITERAL DUST (that's what he does before sacrificing lives)

WE WENT FROM "I WILL NOT TOUCH THESE PEOPLE BECAUSE WE'RE GOING TO DO BETTER." TO "I WILL SLAUGHTER 283 PEOPLE WITHOUT RAISING AN EYEBROW" BECAUSE RANDOM CHILD SHOWS UP AND SAYS "CLARKE'S IN TROUBLE" RANDOM CHILD WHO HAS JUST KILLED A BUNCH OF HARDENED CRIMINALS

He had the dad mug tho, he had to help her

HE SAW HIMSELF IN HER HE KNEW

OK

HIS SOUL KNEW

SO WE'RE THERE NOW BUT THEN BANG, WE'RE ON THE GROUND AND OH FUCK I FORGOT I HAD A GIRLFRIEND BUT BELLAMY IS LOYAL SO HE SURE AF ISN'T DOING ANYTHING UNTIL HE'S DONE WITH ECHO BUT

He's had 2 seasons!!!!!

CLARKE BASICALLY ACTS LIKE SHE DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THE SEPARATION THOU SHALT NOT POKE HOLES IN MY SHIT UNTIL I AM DONE

>He's had 2 seasons!!!!! But only like a few weeks in time.

BECAUSE THESE TWO FUCK HEADS CANNOT HAVE A CONVERSATION

Forgive me!

SO WE HAVE A GRAND TOTAL OF FEWER THAN 3 WEEKS THAT THEY'RE ON THE GROUND AND THEN IN THAT TIME WE HAD.... one sec pPLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO REVIEW THE TIMELINE https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/620425806742749184/season-5-7x03-so-far-timeline FOR SEASON 5 ALL RIGHT SO WE HAVE THEM TOGETHER FOR LESS THAN A WEEK BEFORE BELLAMY'S LIKE (FROM CLARKE'S PERSPECTIVE) "I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR KID, I HAVE TO SAVE MY FAMILY" SO THEN WE HAVE THEM SPEND THE NEXT 10 DAYS APART BECAUSE SHE LEFT HIM AFTER SLAPPING HIM AND SHE THOUGHT HE DIED BECAUSE THEY ARE FUCKING MORONS WHO CAN'T HAVE A CONVERSATION (YOU WILL NOTICE A RECURRING THEME) AND THEN, ECHO HAS LEARNED THAT NOT ONLY HAS CLARKE CARED ABOUT BELLAMY ALL THIS TIME BUT THAT SHE'S ONCE AGAIN READY TO PUT THE FATE OF HUAMNITIY ON THE LINE TO SAVE HIM "GO SAVE HIM. EVEN TAKE MURDER!DAUGHTER WITH YOU" BUT BELLAMY STILL DOESN'T KNOW THIS SO ANYWAY WE HAVE ANGST!BELLAMY GET PARENT TRAPPED BY MURDER!DAUGHTER are y'all still with me? AND THEN WHAT HAPPENED IMMEDIATELY AFTER MURDER!DAUGHTER'S INTERVENTION?

BELLARKE FORGIVENESS ™

YAS NOT ONLY THAT BUT SOFT!BELLARKE RETURNS WITH A VENGEANCE [side note: you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands but there was 100% a canon bellarke scene between forgiveness and 125 year wake up just in case they ended at season 5.]

[I need them to publish that scene when this is all over]

ALL RIGHT SO FUCKING MARPER - WHO SPENT A TOTAL OF LIKE 4 MONTHS WITH CLARKE BUT 6 YEARS WITH THEIR FAMILY- DECIDED TO WAKE UP BELLARKE TO TALK TO AND GIVE GUARDIANSHIP TO AND WHY DID THEY DO THAT?

THEY BEEN KNEW

I'LL ACCEPT IT

OK SO WE GET THIS PROMISING FUTURE TOGETHER ON THIS NEW PLANET RIGHT?

WRONG MURDER POLLEN

OK BUT TECHNICALLY BECHO IS STILL TOGETHER. NO PROBLEM - WE NEED TO FIGURE OUR SHIT OUT AND THEN WE'LL HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO HAVE PEACE AND GET TOGETHER OK SO I'M JUST GOING TO START SAYING "CHORUS" WHEN I MEAN "BECAUSE THESE TWO DUMBASSES CAN'T TALK TO EACH OTHER" IS CHORUS THE RIGHT WORD? OR IS IT REFRAIN? WHATEVER ONE REPEATS - THAT ONE ALL RIGHT SO WE HAVE THEM GOING INTO THE VILLAGE AND EVERY TIME THERE IS DANGER, BELLAMY GOES IMMEDIATELY TO CLARKE WHEN IT'S PEACEFUL, OPE IT'S BACK TO ECHO

(like the husband he is)

I HAVE A WHOLE META ABOUT THAT IF YOU WANT IT BUT SO THEN THE FIRST TIME - LITERALLY THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE MARPER VIDEO - THAT THEY'RE ALONE, IT'S BECAUSE BELLAMY HAS SOUGHT HER OUT AND WHY DID BELLAMY SEEK HER OUT? Y'ALL I'M ONLY AT 6X01. I HAVE SO MUCH AMMUNITION BUT SOMEONE IS WELCOME TO SCREEN SHOT THIS SO THAT THE NEXT TIEM WE HAVE DOUBTS, I DON'T HAVE TO TYPE IT ALL OUT SO WHY DID BELLAMY SEEK HER OUT?

>Y'ALL I'M ONLY AT 6X01. I HAVE SO MUCH AMMUNITION @kate (historyofbellarke) "Give a position show me where the ammunition is" from My Shot just popped into my head lololol

WHY DID BELLAMY LEAVE HIS CANONICAL GIRLFRIEND TO GO SEEK OUT CLARKE?

BECAUSE HE LOVES HER AND ALSO BECAUSE THERE WAS DANGER

OK BUT WHY SPECIFICALLY NOOO WHEN CLARKE WAS IN THE SCHOOL

AND THE LAST TIME SHE WASN'T IN HIS SIGHT SHE ALMOST DIED

OK THAT TOO

Okay I'm lost at this point then.

LOL

Phone a friend.

Bc she sucks and Clarke's the best?

I'LL LET ---- CHIME IN LMFAO I LOVE YOU GUYS KNOW IT'S TO TELL HER THAT HE KNOWS ABOUT THE CALLS

OH THAT SCENE

HE KNOWS THAT SHE CALLED HIM EVERY DAY FOR 2,199 DAYS HE SOUGHT HER OUT, BY HERSELF, TO TELL HER THIS

YES YES

BUT BECAUSE CHORUS

WE'RE BACK THESE FUCK HEADS CAN'T HAVE A CONVERSATION

SHE GOT NERVOUS AND DUCKED OUT BECAUSE IT'S BEEN LESS THAN 3 WEEKS SINCE HE CAME BACK AND SHE'S OVERWHELMED BECAUSE HOLY FUCK WHAT A 3 WEEK PERIOD THAT WAS (REFER BACK TO TIMELINE AS NEEDED) ALL RIGHTY SO THEN AFTER THAT THEY FIND OUT ABOUT THE RED SUN WHICH BY THE WAY IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS BECAUSE HE CALLS OVER ECHO JUST TO PROMPTLY IGNORE HER COMPLETELY [AND BECAUSE IT'S ME, I HAVE A GIFSET FOR THAT] SORRY I GOT DISTRACTED

NO WE'RE HERE FOR THE GIFSET

I'M LOOKING OK IT'S PART OF THIS SO YOU GET A 2 FOR 1 https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/184827185143/bellarke-danger-vs-becho-safety OK NOW I FORGOT WERE I LEFT OFF OH YEAH IGNORING ECHO ALL RIGHT SO THEN WE HAVE EVERYTHING GO TO SHIT AND OF COURSE, BELLARKE LOCK THEMSELVES TOGETHER AND WE HAVE THE ANGST THE ANGST BUT THEY HAVE EACH OTHER'S KEYS

WHICH IS A MARRIED MOVE IF I EVER HEARD ONE

BECAUSE THEY HAVE THE KEY TO MY HEART, WHEREVER YOU ARE, I'LL KEEP YOU

That's a very comprehensive gifset

IF YOU DON'T KNOW THAT SONG THEN I FEEL OLD SO YOU HAVE THEM UNLOCKING EACH OTHER BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY ARE

I might drift in and out of conversation, partner wants attention but I wanna finish reading this asdfgh

AND HE'S LIKE "NAH ECHO, WIFEY AND I GOT THIS. WE GOTTA TAKE CARE OF OUR KIDS." TELL THEM TO WAIT THEIR TURN SO THEY'RE GOING LITERALLY PSYCHOTIC BUT THAT'S COOL. I TRUST THE OTHER ONE ENOUGH TO NOT KILL ME BUT OH WAIT - WHAT IS BELLAMY'S PSYCHOSIS ?

Not needing Clarke anymore...?

YUP WHICH MEAN S

He needed her and knew it at some point

YUP ALSO I FOUND THAT GIFSET THAT I IDD TO THAT SONG https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/184725894498/this-song-popped-into-my-head-and-i-had-to OK SO SKIPPING AHEAD, HIS BIGGEST SECRET IS THAT HE DOES STILL NEED HER OK EVEN I'M STARTED TO GET BORED SO I'LL GIVE BULLET POINTS FROM HERE ON OUT SO WE HAVE HIM NEEDING HER HIM CALLING HER THE LEADER EVEN THOUGH SHE HASN'T BEEN FOR LIKE 6 YEARS AND WE HAVE HIM PINING OVER HER AT THE DANCE FLOOR AND PICKING A FIGHT WITH ECHO OH YEAH AND WE SEE ALL THE  BECHO CRACKS HERE

This has been a v good rundown, I won't lie.

LOL

ONWARD  I'M BACK ON TRACK

WE HAVE JUXTAPOSED: ECHO NOT KNOWING WHAT TO SAY WITH REGARDS TO OBUT CLARKE KNOWING EXACTLY WHAT TO SAY EVEN AFTER 6 YEARS

BECAUSE WIFEY

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618426948212965376/historyofbellarke-4-times-someone-knew-the-right

Really you'd think the spy would know what someone wants to hear smh

NAH BECAUSE SHE HAS NO EMOTIONAL EMPATHY. WE'LL GET TO THAT EVENTUALLY

She's also kinda a shit spy. Like when has she ever done actual spying.

Y'ALL I HAVE A GIF FOR EVERYTHING. I'M THE LIZ WARREN OF BELLARKE GIFS GIFSETS AT LEAST

You don't need empathy to fake it, Madison's right she's just such a bad spy :joy:

I'VE GOT NOTHING ON ---- FOR JUST GIFS LOLi

I say this as someone who was 10/10 a spy in a past life at least according to my recurring dreams about it1

OK SO THEN WE ALSO HAVE BELLAMY SIDING WITH CLARKE AT EVERY TURN, OVER ECHO'S EXPLICIT OBJECTIONS AND WE HAVE HER NOTICINGGGGGG WE'RE HERE FOR THIS CONTENT

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/185265380768/6x04-bec-scene-follow-up-with-6x05 JUST ONE EXAMPLE

HATE TO SEE IT 

SO WE HAVE BELLAMY CLEARLY SHOWING THAT HE'S HER LEADER - WHETHER HE MEANS TO BE OR NOT - WHICH COMES IN IN 7X01

Total aside but now I want a modern au where Bellamy doesn't know how to break up with Echo so he tries to ghost her while everyone around him is pulling their hair out

OH SHIT ONE SECOND I HAVE TO DO DUOLINGO SO I DON'T LOSE MY STREAK BRB

>Total aside but now I want a modern au where Bellamy doesn't know how to break up with Echo so he tries to ghost her while everyone around him is pulling their hair out ---- I love this, actually. WE SHALL HOLD YOUR SPOT

No one in this goddamn canon knows how to have an actual breakup conversation they only know how to die

CORRECT CHORUS

BECAUSE THESE TWO DUMBASSES CAN'T TALK TO EACH OTHER

Ironically Raven and Finn are the only ones who have had a half-normal breakup.

Will be back, partner is dramatically exclaiming that I don't love him anymore bc I won't go give him a goddamn hug bc the meta's too good

BOOM OK I'M BACK

SIDE NOTE BEFORE WE'RE BACK

GO ON

What language are you learning on Duolingo?

relearning spanish and then german german for work, spanish because i used to be fluent and i'm so bad now xp

This entire convo is a chaotic mess

We are a chaotic mess.

WELCOME TO THE HELLMOUTH, ----

Our ship is a chaotic mess.

It all tracks, honestly.

WE WOULD'VE ALL BEEN SO MUCH BETTER OFF IF JASPER HAD DESTROYED THE CHIP OOK SO MOVING ON NOW I FORGOT WHERE I LEFT OFF OH YEAH LEADER PERF SO OH YEAH I FORGOT TO ADD - 6 & 7 ARE ONE SINGULAR SEASON SO

This convo should totally be convered into a Masterclass session at the end. YES

WE'VE GOT A RUNNING THREAD OF ECHO BEING A FOLLOWER OF BELLAMY AND HER KNOWING IT

6/7 ARE ONE SEASON WE'RE HERE WE'RE LIVING

BUT BACK TO S6 SO WE HAVE BELLAMY BEING THE FIRST TO REALIZE THAT CLARKE WANS'T CLARKE AND WE HAVE THIS BEAUTIFUL MOMENT

I’m here and all of this is glorious

OH YEAH THERE'S ALSO THIS BUT I DIGRESS https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618548726524510208/historyofbellarke-5x09-6x04-6x05 THE FIRST ONE HERE - https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/616075629201408000/just-some-clips-ofabout-bellamy-where-either HE'S WILLING TO RISK EVERYTHING EBCAUSE CLARKE MIGHT BE AT RISK  EVEN THOUGH THEY LITERALLY HAVE NO WHERE ELSE TO GO OH YEAH FUCKING MURPHY - I'LL GET BACK TO HIM ALL RIGHT SO THEN WE HAVE BELLAMY FIGURING IT OUT AND THE HORROR BLOOMING IN HIS SOUL AND THEN WE HAVE HIM LITERALLY WITH A ROOM DESTROYED EVERN THOUGH HE IS CHAINED UP LIKE SERIOUSLY HOW DID HE MANAGE THAT AND THEN TRY TO KILL RUSSELL THE SECOND HE COULD BECAUSE HE HURT CLARKE EVEN THOUGH, AGAIN, THAT'S THE ONLY WAY HE AND HIS PEOPLE COULD SURIVVE BUT WITHOUT CLARKE, HE'S NOT ALIVE. HE ONLY SURVIVES AND HOW DO WE KNOW THIS? BECAUSE HE FUCKING SAYS IT (implicitly)

I just came into this. I have nothing to add I just want to say I’m living for it

:heart:

Agreed, this conversation is giving meaning to my insomnia :joy:

https://historyofbellarke.tumblr.com/post/618973621000585216/just-a-reminder-that-bellamy-canonically-only

WHOLE F*ING THING ON SURVIVING VS LIVING AND THEN ONCE HE DECIDES THEY'RE GOING TO LIVE (AND LET RUSSELL LIVE)  BECAUSE IT'S WHAT CLARKE WOULD'VE WANTED, HE SAYS "WE SURVIVE" LOOKING LIKE THE SADDEST FUCKING PUPPY IN EXISTENCE AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FACT THAT WE HAD A WHOLE DAMN EPISODE OF A 13 EPISODE SEASON DEVOTED TO BELLAMY SUFFERING BECAUSE HIS WIFE DIED AGAIN 3 WEEKS AFTER SHE WAS RESURRECTED SUBTLE, JASON. SUBTLE. OK NOW BACK TO MY BELOVED COCKROACH MURPHY AND BELLAMY ARE ARGUABLY THE TWO CLOSEST NON-ROMANTIC (:upside_down:) PEOPLE ON THE SHIP THE RING RIGHT? OK WE'RE GOING WITH IT ANYWAY

Hmmm yes(I agreee) but also Clarke and Murphy have that understanding that transcends words?

THEY ARE THE CLOSEST ROMANCE WITHSTANDING ON THE SHIP

AND MURPHY, MY BELOVED MURPHY, HAS BEEN THERE FROM "I'LL CHOP HER HAND OFF" TO "OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK CLARKE IS UNCONSCIOUS AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO" TO "YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE HERE SAVING SOMEONE THEY CARE ABOUT"

BECAUSE BELLAMY DOES NOT EVEN KNOW ECHO'S ACTUAL NAME AND THEREFORE THEY ARE NOT CLOSE

LOL SO MURPHY AFTER 6 YEARS IS TRYING TO GET BELLAMY TO DO SOMETHING HE WANTS (WE'RE BACK IN SEASON 5 NOW, SORRY) AND HOW DOES HE DO THAT?

AND INVOLKES MOM'S NAME

BLESSED BE "WELL IF CLARKE WAS HERE" BELLAMY ESPLODES OK SO NOW WE HAVE MURPHY AGAIN WHO KNOWSSSS AND WHAT DOES HE SAY TO JOSIE? ABOUT BELLAMY

If Clarke is dead Bellamy will kill us all HE KNOWS

BAM ALSO, REFER BACK TO PREVIOUS GIFSET, SAME MURPHY "OH YEAH I'LL TRY TO HELP ECHO TOO" BECAUSE MURPHY KNOWSSSS OOK THAT'S ALL FOR MURPHY NOW SO WE HAVE BELLAMY "WE'RE GOING TO SURVIVE BECAUSE I CAN'T LIVE WITHJOUT CLARKE BUT I'M GOING TO ONCE AGAIN HONOR HER FUCKING MEMORY" UNTILLLLLL WHAT HAPPENS

lol @ Murphy having to remind Bell his gf exists hahahah UNTIL HIS SOUL REALIZES CLARKE IS ALIVE

BUT HOW DOES HE REALIZE THAT

BECAUSE YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME HE KNEW IT WAS MORSE CODE BECAUSE OF EARTH SKILLS NO

HE KNEW IT WAS MORSE CODE BECAUSE HIS SOUL FUCKING KNEW HIS WIFE WAS ALIVE

Yesss

PLATONIC SOULMATE MY ASS JASON

Morse code is life

[okay rant over, continue Kate]

MILLER'S FACE WAS LIKE "YOU FUCKING WHAT MAN?"

(side note- i am getting alive in morse code on my wrist when covid clears) OK SO WE'RE BACK SO WE HAVE JOSIE TAPPING HER FINGERS

Oh I love that I have friend who has that tattoo

YES TAP TAP MILLER GOING WTF BELL GOING ALL GIDDY PUPPY WITH A BONE

WHICH MEANS BELLAMY HAD TO HAVE GONE BACK TO HIS FAMILY AND SAY "OK WE'RE GOING TO RESCUE MY DEAD WIFE. SHE'S ALIVE. IKNOW BECAUSE JOSIE WAS TAPPING HER FINGERS." AND THE FAMILY HAD TO GO "YEAH OK THAT MAKES SENSE."

AND NO ONE QUESTIONED IT BECAUSE THEY BEEN KNEW

Yessss

SO WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO? LIKE IT WAS EVEN A QUESTION. THEY'RE RESCUING CLARKE AND BY THEY'RE I MEAN HE BECAUSE HE DOES NOT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THEM AT THE MOMENT SO HE'S LIKE "READY OR NOT, I'M RESCUING MY WIFE. BYEEEEE" AND JORDAN'S LIKE "WHAT ABOUT PRIYA?" AND EVERYONE'S LIKE ".... SORRY BRO. CLARKE. YOU WANTED HEART BELLAMY. YOU GOT HIM." SO HE GOES, LEAVING HIS FAMILY BEHIND WITH A BUNCH OF PSYCHOPATHIC MURDERERS WHO KNOW THAT BELLAMY IS GOING TO KILL THEIR DAUGHTER BUT HE'S JUST LIKE... BYE AND HE KNOWS, AND WE KNOW THAT HE KNOWS, BECAUSE JOSIE TAUNTS HIM ABOUT IT THE WHOLE TIME BECAUSE JOSIE IS THE AUDIENCE BASICALLY

JOSIE IS US BUT SLIGHTLY MORE PSYCHOTIC

ALL RIGHT SO SKIPPING AHEAD, SKIPPING AHEAD, YOU HAVE JOSIE'S WHOLE RUN DOWN OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP

TOGETHER

AND HIS VERY LONG PAUSE FOLLOWED BY "I WON'T LET YOU DIE"

EXHAUSTING

INSTEAD OF I FUCKING LOVE YOU BECAUSE CHORUS SO WE GET CLARKE BACK THROUGH SHEER FORCE OF BELLAMY'S WILL

>AND HIS VERY LONG PAUSE FOLLOWED BY "I WON'T LET YOU DIE" @kate (historyofbellarke) "I LOVE YOU, BITCH. I AIN'T EVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU, BITCH."

"I'LL SHAVE THE BEARD" SO WE HAVE CLARKE WHO GAVE UP LIVING BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT BELLAMY GAVE UP (REMEMBER, JOSIE SHOWING HER THE MEMORY OF BELLAMY SAYING WE'LL TAKE THE DEAL) AND THEN CLARKE COMING BACK TO LIFE BECAUSE BELLAMY WOULDN'T GIVE UP AND THEN WE HAVE OCTAVIA, MY BROTHER POISONED ME FOR HIS WIFE AND I STILL RAISED MY NIECE ON STORIES OF EPIC BELLARKE, BLAKE IN THE BACKGROUND BEING ALL OF US

>SO WE HAVE CLARKE WHO GAVE UP LIVING BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT BELLAMY GAVE UP (REMEMBER, JOSIE SHOWING HER THE MEMORY OF BELLAMY SAYING WE'LL TAKE THE DEAL) @kate (historyofbellarke) OMG I HAVE A SPEC ABOUT THIS I HAVE A SPEC ABOUT THIS BUT IMMA WAIT TIL WE'RE DONE TO POP INTO SPEC TO TALK IT OUT OKAY CONTINUE

i'm going to keep going, but have i done a pretty good job of convincing anyone who was wavering? because remember this is all canon.  i have done absolutely no spec-ing at all.

I'm very hype rn. Ngl.

lol

Could flip a tire for Bellarke rn kind of hype

OK SO NOW CLARKE IS ALIVE BUT OH FUCK, THE REST OF THE FAMILY IS IN TROUBLE WE LITERALLY HAD MURPHY, MY BLESSED MURPHY, SHOW UP TO GO "YO. YOUR GIRLFRIEND." AND BELLAMY GO https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/591463308117278720/716493560610029708/tumblr_pv4mkld49N1xsmktho1_500.gif SO OF COURSE, IT'S NOT TIME TO TALK BECAUSE CHORUS

DUMBASSES NO TALKIE

SO WE GET EVERYONE FIXED. A BUNCH OF UNNECESSARY PLOT SHIT HAPPENS. AND THEN BELLAMY LITERALLY PUSHES HIS GIRLFRIEND OUT OF THE WAY TO GO AND DO A DRAMATIC SUNSET REUNION WITH HIS WIFE AND THEN PLOT SHIT PLOT SHIT PLOT SHIT WE'RE IN S7 AM I MISSING S6 STUFF? PROBABLY BUT Y'ALL IT'S LITERALLY BEEN 4 WEEKS IN CANON AT THIS POINT AND I MISSED A LOT OF SHIT. SO Y'KNOW. OUR BABIES ARE TIRED N AND NOW WE'RE ALL GOOD RIGHT? JUST GONNA GO HAVE A QUICK MEETING WITH GABRIEL AND THEN GO BACK TO MY WIFE SO WE CAN TALK OVER SOME TEA THEN BAM, O GETS STABBED AND THEN WE HAVE . 4 EPISODES THAT HAPPEN OVER 2 DAYS BEFORE CLARKE'S LIKE "WELP. I'M THROWING MYSELF HEAD FIRST INTO A WORM HOLE TO GO GET MY HUSBAND AND HIS STUPID GIRLFRIEND." AND YOU HAVE EVERYONE ELSE GOING "I'M SORRY, DID YOU THINK ANYTHING ELSE WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?" AND FOLLOWING AND THE S6/7 WRITERS MOSTLY JUST CHOSE TO IGNORE THAT S4/5 WRITERS GAVE CLARKE A DAUGHTER BECAUSE, WELL, I DON'T BLAME THEM EVEN THOUGH I LOVE MADI SHE'S AN UNNECESSARY COMPLICATION SO HAND WAVING SHE'S FINE SO NOW WE'RE UP TO PRESENT

Fully convinced Madi was there to ensure Clarke didn't go fully insane on Earth and provide motive for that bitch slap scene from S5.

brb spilled beer

Oh, and to parent trip Bell/Clarke.

>brb spilled beer @kate (historyofbellarke) makes sense after the tea you're spilling on this channel

Someone really oughta document this convo for a later date. lol We will need to reference it before end of the season, bet. lol

blesss i do not deserve my partner he told me to go sit down and is cleaning it also i went to finish the last of the unspilled stuff and promptly spilled it down my chest so ALL RIGHT WHERE WERE WE OH YEAH AND BELLAMY FORGAVE HER BECAUSE MADI WAS LIKE "YO YOU'RE A PARENT TOO AND REMMEBER SHE STOOD BY YOU WHEN YOU PUT OCTAVIA ABOVE LITERALLY EVERYTHING" AND BELLAMY WAS LIKE "OH... SHIT." AND THEN SHE WAS LIKE "SHE CALLE DYOU EVERY DAY YOU DUMBFUCK" AND YOU HAVE THE PATENTED "OMG, DOES CLARKE HAVE FEELINGS FO RME TOO???" JAW DROP BUT NOW BACK TO PRESENT

(Now if someone will just fucking tell her that he did the equivalent grant gestureTM of the radio calls except w/ poison)

i didn't even include the fact that he fucking poisoned O, that diyoza referred to her as his girlfriend, etc etc etc OH AND AS TO WHY HBECHO ISN'T GOING TO BE A HTING ANYMORE BESIDES EVERYTHING I'VE SAID

FINN COLLINS THAT'S WHY

BASUCALLY YES

FINN COLLINS EXCEPT AT LEAST CLARKE KNEW HIS REAL NAME

THEY DID A LITERAL EXACT PARALLEL BETWEEN BELLAMY AND ECHO SPFEIHOi4ur YES LIKE IT'S LIKE THE WRITERS FOUND BESTOFBECHO AND WENT "FUCK, ARE WE NOT BEING OBVIOUS ENOUGH? TIME TO CALL IN ZACH MCGOWAN" ( THEY FUCKING GOT ZACH ON A PLANE FROM LA TO VANCOUVER TO JUST SAY "YOU DON'T LOVE HIM" LIKE I DON'T THINK PEOPLE REALIZE HOW INVOLVED OF A PROCESS IT IS TO GET AN ACTOR THERE - ESPECIALLY IN CANADA WHERE YOU HAVE TO BALANCE NON-CANADIAN WITH CANADIAN ACTORS OR YOU CAN'T SHOOT IN CANADA SO THIS AMERICAN HAD TO BE TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT FOR THE WHOLE SEASON FOR A 2 MINUTE APPERANCE BUT THE WRITERS WERE LIKE "YO HUGE NEON SIGN RIGHT HERE" AND THEN SHE CONTINUED ALL SEASON IN THAT VEIN UNTIL 7X05 WHEN SHE BROKEEEEE OVER HIS "DEATH"

BECAUSE HER SOUL DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS ALIVE LIKE BELL DID CLARKE

AND DID THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING BELLAMY DID WHEN HE FOUND OUT CLARKE WAS ALIVE

And also as mentioned, she's a shit spy.

BECAUSE THE WRITERS ARE LIKE "CAN WE MAKE IT MORE OBVIOUS? I'M NOT SURE HOW!" so now we're at present day and here's a bit of crack spec-ing

THANKS FOR THIS LONG ASS META !!

YOU ARE WELCOME once again if i put that amount of effort into my dissertation, i'd be a phd with a published book or 3

This was a joy to read An utter joy This reaffirmed all my beliefs and got rid of all doubts I had

https://tenor.com/view/about-to-ugly-cry-ugly-cry-emotional-sensitive-crying-gif-8033343 i aim to please so now we have that O/B scene so we as the audience know something is off. bellamy was dragged sobbing and unconscious by his captors to suddenly being awake, fine, and killing a bunch of trained soldiers and holding someone hostage with his left hand. so then you have O, noticing something isn't quite right, casually bringing up clarke's name clarke. fucking. griffin. who bellamy had JUST brought back from the dead after learning she was alive and he's just... calm? about O possibly doing something with these psychos that's related to clarke? HE JUST POISONED HIS SISTER LIKE A WEEK AGO TO SAVE CLARKE'S LIFE i cannot stress this enough. bellamy fucking blake would not just go "huh?" when O, his sister that he's barely tolerating, goes "i'll tell you, you psychotic cultists, everything about my sister-in-law" and that's it. that's where i'm at s6 was about bellamy literally pulling clarke back from death s7 will be about clarke literally crossing time and space to get back to bellamy THIS IS AN EPIC FUCKING LOVE STORY AND ANYONE WHO THINKS OTHERWISE IS WRONG AND NOW I'M GOING TO TAKEA . SHOWER BECAUSE I SPILLED BEER ON MYSELF BUT I WILL BE BACK also i didn't think iw as drunk but then i reread that and started crying so it's definitely shower time

#bellarke #bellarke meta #the 100 #anti bech #anti ech #blarke wine club #long post

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter four: i can see you

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: this chapter is A LOTTTT of filth and as always thank you to bestie @northernbluess for beta-ing <333 love ya!

It’s the first class after Javi had you on your knees in front of him, the rest of the weekend was spent circling back to that image and having to take a cold shower or adjust himself in his jeans when he met up with some old friends from his days as a sheriff. The other thoughts that alternated from the image of you on your knees, soft and supple lips around his cock, was his view from between your legs, pleasure contorting your face and pulling you to a place where you fully let him give your body the treatment it deserves. There’s a phantom feeling of your come all over his face, the visual of you squirting for him bringing him to the edge when he spent Sunday night with his hand around his cock.

What would you feel like, writhing underneath him and making all those sweet little sounds he’s been replaying over and over in his head, while he gives you his cock over and over until you’re screaming?

You were now a craving that couldn’t be satiated; even if he had your mouth again, even if he got another taste of you, even if he got the chance to fuck you properly, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He’s always going to want one more orgasm, one more little moan of his name, one more time spilling into you and watching you take it wherever.

This is why he is buzzing as he walks through the halls to the lecture room, stalking up to the door and peeking through the small window. A glimpse of the back of your head sends a hot rush of his blood south, rolling out his shoulders and taking a breath to calm down. He languidly makes his way down the stairs at the end of the rows of seating, slowing his pace even more when he starts to reach the row you’re occupying. The sound of your voice rises above all the other students in his ears, and he bites back a smile as he’s reminded of the short phone call from the evening prior.

“Will you draw something else for me, bebita?”

“I can but that means I won’t be paying too much attention in class, Professor Peña.”

“Eh, doesn’t matter so much. Can just fill you in when I see you next. Call it private tutoring…” He grinned when he heard you laugh on the other side of the line, feeling like a schoolboy crushing hard. Javi was sitting on his couch, laying back and listening to you, trying to ask questions that gave long-winded answers so he could listen to your voice. “D’you have any other hobbies, bebita?”

“Hm, I mean, I guess so. Haven’t had a lot of time to do much these days cause of school. But I’ll sound like a grandma if I tell you about all those so let’s leave it at I like to doodle in your class.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it all. What else is there besides drawing?”

“Well, um, I like embroidery. Like those pieces of fabric in the ring with designs on them? Those are fun to make when I’m watching TV or a film. Helps me focus, I guess. Actually, a lot of my hobbies are just things that help me focus so maybe I have a bit of an attention problem—”

“Don’t seem to have an issue paying attention to me, cariño.”

“Yeah, but you’re a distraction in and of yourself. I can barely pay attention to anything you’re saying during lecture cause I’m just looking at you, which is why I had to start doodling to have something to help me focus.”

“I see. Alright, so drawing and embroidery, anything else you like to do?”

“I guess anything I can make really. I find new mediums that look fun to do, buy all the supplies, and do it once, and then don’t touch it again.” You laughed again and Javi smiled and shook his head.

“Well, how about you make me something from all those different things? I want some Angel originals, hermosa. Show off how much I like art.”

“Javi, you’ve got no clue about anything to do with art.”

“Yeah, but I would know they’re yours. That would make them the best.”

It was silent for a moment, Javi awaited your answer to his loosely termed commission.

“Alright, deal.”

When he comes back into the lecture hall from his trailing thoughts, the student next to you is speaking, trying and failing to keep her voice at a low enough volume for Javier not to hear her.

“I heard that Professor Peña used to not be the most ethical when he was in the DEA…like slept with prostitutes to get information. Can’t even imagine the shit he must’ve caught there,” she says as if it’s the juiciest information she’s been told, likely wanting someone else besides you to overhear and question it.

You scoff at the girl sitting near you, rolling your eyes before your brow creases slightly in disapproval, “Y’know, you really shouldn’t be making assumptions about people based on campus rumors. And even if he did do that, he clearly did something right cause he stopped all of those criminals, and probably helped the women too. A lot of people talk to be able to get other opportunities.”

Anger flashes in your chest, burning red like heated iron to brand your heart with Javi’s likeness.

No, no feelings. Nothing more than what you have going on with him, no getting any more attached and making it messy.

But how can people just say shit like that? Without any care that the person they’re talking about is in the room, likely overhearing everything?

Javier doesn’t deserve the treatment. He’s so caring, and intelligent, and giving, and—No. No more.

You’re drifting back and forth between frustrations and telling yourself to calm down for the rest of class, and it’s clear on your face to Javier. He overheard everything, especially your quick defense of him. He knows the extra meaning behind your words, or at least hopes that there’s something else there — maybe a bit of his infatuation or school-age crush reciprocated. Eyes stay glancing over at you throughout his lecture and discussion, no comments or questions from you as you hurriedly take notes or scribble out something in the margins of your paper.

Fingers twitch at the sight of your tense shoulders, creased brow, and avoidant eyes. He so badly wants to walk right over, kiss you to release all of the pent-up frustration, and thank you for your defense. What he would give to be able to sit right next to you, huddle together in your own world like in the booth at the bar over the weekend.

He doesn’t get to catch you before you jump up at the end of class that day, quickly leaving after getting dirty looks from your seatmate. Javier is tempted to call the other student down to speak to him, but that feels a step too far, so he quells down the need to protect you and moves on for the day.

It isn’t until the second meeting of the week that he finally gets to see you again, his calls going to voicemail for the two nights following that day. He’s in the hallway, speaking with another professor within the department when you come down the corridor, a sweet autumnal plaid mini dress on with a cardigan over it. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs covered with translucent black tights that tuck under the ankle of your Dr. Marten boots.

The other man’s voice slowly fades out as Javier focuses on you, attempting and failing to steal his gaze away as you walk past him. Eyes lock with a teasing knowing behind yours, the corners of your lips twitching up as you laugh to yourself that he looks like a dog to a bone.

“Hi, Professor Peña and it’s nice to see you again, Professor Quinn,” you slow down on the other side of the two men, Professor Quinn returning your smile and waving you over for a conversation.

“So lovely to see you again! Lizzy has been asking about you, she misses her favorite babysitter. How have you been? Are you in one of Professor Peña’s classes?” Professor Quinn looks between the two of you, friendly small talk coated with tension that only you and Javier can feel. The secret you share licks flames in your gut, stirring an excitement that you know so much more about him than other students, than his coworkers, than most people. That excitement has anxiety constricting in your chest briefly, afraid of what might happen if you allowed yourself to feel any claim over Javi.

Don’t get so attached. It’s work, a job, and there are other men on your schedule. No one else is like Javi, but canceling on anyone else to spend more time with him is too close to blurring the lines.

Javier looks at you, his heart in his throat as he is the recipient of one of those smiles from you, the one that had him crushing from the first sight of it and the same one he can’t get out of his head when you’re apart. Before Professor Quinn feels the need to repeat his question, Javier clears his throat and nods curtly.

“Yeah, my first graduate-level course. Got to get to the lecture in about five minutes actually.” Javier steps to leave but you hold up a hand.

“Oh, sorry, Professor Peña, but do you mind waiting one moment? I’d like to talk to you about the upcoming assignment on the way to the lecture hall.” Javi has a burning need to say he’ll talk to you after class, to cover any suspicions of his colleague from the prolonged eye contact between the two of you, but he can never deny those eyes of yours — and you seem to know that fact already.

He waits to the side while you quickly finish your conversation with Professor Quinn, who taught you during your undergraduate years and whose daughter you babysat for date nights during the school year and nannied over the summers you stayed in San Antonio.

There’s a flash of jealousy in Javier’s chest, no logic behind it, but he can’t help but feel like he wants to be the only one to know you as a student and outside of class. It’s silly, especially because this relationship is completely innocent, but he can’t stop the feeling from rushing over like a wave.

With a smile, one that he convinces himself isn’t quite like the ones you give him, you say goodbye to your former instructor and turn to Javier. Closing the gap to catch up with him, you start to walk side by side, appropriately inches apart despite the surge of wanting that trails down your left side and his right.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? The upcoming assignment? Is it the midterm research paper?” Javier maintains his professionalism, only glancing at you a few times while his mouth waters at the sight of exposed skin at your collarbone and the scent of your sweet perfume.

“Actually, I kind of just said that…” your voice goes to a lower volume, but still audible to him, “I was hoping that you’d maybe have some appointments left for your office hours? Maybe for a little tutoring session? I have my Spanish midterm coming up soon.”

Javi bites back his smirk, shaking his head to himself at your coded questions. Slowing to a stop in front of the door to the classroom, he turns to you, his boots clicking on the linoleum tiles as he rests a hand on his hip to consider.

“You can have the last one for today,” his voice drops to a low, hushed rasp as you lean in ever so slightly to hear him better, “Y’know, been missin’ you these last few days, bebita. Better have a good excuse.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink and a smirk, a teasing lilt obvious in his voice. A strong hand engulfs the door handle before you can reach for it, opening it and nodding for you to step in ahead of him.

“Ladies first,” he reminds, licking his lips as you look up at him with a quick, whispered reply.

“Think you know I’m not always a lady, Javier.”

He can’t stop watching you the whole class. He knows it’s an issue, that surely it’s obvious at points of the entire hour-and-a-half lecture. He knows that you notice his stare, quick flicks of eye contact, and subtle winks sent his way as the corners of your lips curl up in a smirk.

All he can think about is getting you alone — finally alone again — and teaching you a thing or two, like you requested, of course.

When he glances at you next, you’re staring down at your notebook, oblivious to his attention; the end of your pen is tapping against your bottom lip, your brows knitting together in what looks like confusion while reviewing your written notes. Javier watches as you slip the end of your pen between your lips, licking his own while he sees them pillow against the plastic utensil. The gloss swiped across them shines in the fluorescent lights, and with a flash of the image of your lips around him a couple of weekends ago, his trousers tighten and his mouth dries out.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, sharing a knowing smile before he stutters out the next point of his lecture. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head to himself and peels his eyes away from you, keeping them away for the rest of the session to attempt to calm down before he has to walk out in front of all the students with a bulge in his tight trousers.

At the end of class, he announces that he’ll be rescheduling his office hours to this afternoon, to start shortly after he releases everyone for the session. You quickly catch his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a subtle smirk and a quick wink while the rest of the students pack up their things. Some linger to ask quick questions, but you’re out the door before he can grab your attention again, his eager stance deflating. He wanted you to stay, to talk to you before sitting through all his other office hour appointments before he’s able to see you.

It’s about an hour of talking through fifteen-minute appointments with other students, both graduate and undergraduate, about their upcoming midterm assignments or exams for his courses. He can’t help but roll his eyes each time these students ask for extra credit or make-up notes for the classes that they have missed — most of these kids haven’t bothered to show up since syllabus week. The clock to the left of the door ticks away, and he sweeps up the conversation with the sophomore sitting across his desk once fifteen minutes exactly hit, ushering him out the door and promising another meeting before the midterm, but that he has another appointment to get to.

Taking a breath once the student is heading down the hallway, he combs his eyes around the area outside of his office, his attention being pulled to quick footsteps down the corridor. His eyes take in Dr. Martens, slightly beat up and well-worn, black sheer tights snaking up your legs to the mid-thigh hem of your skirt. Trailing up your dress to the exposed skin at your collarbone, Javi licks his lips.

“Sorry, I’m a little late, Professor Peña. Rushed over here when I realized what time it was sitting in the library,” you apologize, a soft smile on your face holding back the playful glint in your eyes.

“No problem, the last student ran a bit over his appointment time. Please, c’mon in.” Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the open door of his office, watching you glance around the space as he shuts the door behind him. At the click of the handle into place, Javi strides over to you and grabs at your hips, leaning down to catch your lips in a heated and rushed kiss.

His larger frame looms over you, your hands finding his shoulders as your body relaxes into his grip. Javi guides you backward to his desk and around it, pressing you up against the edge of the wood.

“Fuck, bebita, jus’ couldn’t take my eyes off of you the whole fucking day. Look so sweet in your dress. Wanted to rip it off you and take you right there. Let everyone know whose girl you are,” he rasps against your lips, dragging his own along your jaw and working a love bite underneath your ear. A whimper pulls from your throat, leaning your head back for easier access as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” The smirk in his voice is evident, cockiness coating his words as he asks the rhetorical question. “Mi zorrita (My little slut) wants everyone to know who makes her feel so good, doesn’t she?”

“Y-Yes, I want everyone to know that it’s you…” you sigh out when Javier’s lips suck at your collarbone, hunched over you while his bulge presses into your thigh.

“You’d do that if I asked, like a good girl. But you’re all mine, bebita. Don’t want anyone else having you like I do.”

Guilt burns in your chest when he says that; you know he isn’t seeing anyone else, he’s said as much. You’ve dodged the question, avoiding the confrontation of telling him he’s one of a few because then you’d have to explain how he isn’t one of the few — how something with him is different, deeper, makes you long for him when he’s away.

And confessing all of that makes your stomach turn.

Instead of responding with words, your hand curls into his hair, the other resting against his chest and pulling him back up to your face. Kissing him hurriedly, you take the moment of distraction to push him back and down into his desk chair. You fold over him, keeping your lips attached to his and sighing when you feel a rumble of a moan from him when your hand at his chest drops down to palm him through his pants.

“Y’know, you asked for a Spanish lesson, bebita. D’you still want to learn something?” Javier asks, his head pulled back to rest against the seat back. You give him a ‘yes’, kneeling in front of his seat and scraping your nails against his strong thighs.

“Eres mío? Eres mi buena chica? Qué vas a hacer por mí? (Are you mine? Are you my good girl? What are you gonna do for me?)” Javier brushes his fingers against your cheek as he looks down at you. You take a beat to translate his questions in your head, a smirk growing on your face while you unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper on his trousers.

“Te voy a hacer sentir bien. (I’m going to make you feel good).” Javier grins down at you when you answer, sighing in relief when you pull his dick out from his boxers. His hand is still at your face, eyes darkening when you look at him.

“Una chica tan lista. My smart girl,” he exhales the last syllable when you swipe your tongue up the underside of his cock, his fingers running against your hair and moving to the back of your head. “Ahora chupa, mi zorrita. (Now suck, my little slut.) Show me what you can do.”

Following his instructions, you take Javi into your mouth, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. Your hand wraps around the base of him, slowly stroking as you feed more of him into your mouth, all the way until he hits the back of your throat.

Exhaling out of your nose, you take a moment before starting to bob your head in time with your hand. The sounds coming from Javi sitting over you are delicious, the actions and the noises making your saliva drip from the corners of your lips and down his shaft, squelching with the motions of your hand. The hand of his at the back of your head starts to guide you, pushing you down an inch further to press the tip of him into your throat.

“Fuck, bebita, taking my cock so fucking well. Such a good girl for me, my dirty girl.” You hum in acknowledgment and squeeze your thighs together, readying yourself to deepthroat him when there’s a sharp knock on his office door. Javi’s hand holds your head still, looking down at you and whispering expletives as he glances around the room. The knob starts to turn when he calls out, “One sec!”

You pull off of him and open your mouth to whisper, but Javi shakes his head and holds his index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet, baby. There’s nowhere else for you to go, jus’ get under the desk and I’ll get rid of whoever it is quick, okay?”

You nod and crawl into the alcove of his desk, sitting on your knees with your back to the panel that hides you from the rest of the room. Javier wheels his desk chair closer to the desk, his legs on either side of you trapping you in. Eye-level with his still aching cock, your mouth waters, and breath hitches when the door finally opens and a voice comes booming in.

“Javier! Agent Peña! Big Man on Campus! How the heck are ya?” Dean Banks greets Javi with a laugh, striding into his office confidently. He rolls his eyes at the Dean, clearing his throat and scooting one leg closer to you under the desk.

“Dean Banks, nice to see you. I’m fine, how are you?” The polite conversation sparks an idea in your head to distract Javier, licking your lip and leaning in closer. You blow a warm breath over his cock, watching it twitch with the sensation and making Javier’s leg jolt.

“I’m doing great — we’ve gotten some glowing midterm reviews for your courses so I thought I would stop by to give you the good news! And to check in and see how you’re doing with the first full semester you’ve had here so far.” Dean Banks wanders around his office, staying in front of the desk as he pokes at all the books on the shelves lining the walls. “Haven’t gotten mixed up into, uh, those extraneous circumstances we discussed have you?”

Javier opens his mouth to answer at the same time you take him back between your lips, plunging your head down to take half of him in one quick go. The words catch in his throat and he quickly clears it to cover up the noise.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Been focused on, uh, teaching and setting all of my students up for—success. I was just finishing up with my office hours before you walked in.” Javier’s hand searches for you under the desk to pull you away, but you grip both of his hands in your position of power, holding them down as you continue to suck his dick hidden away from view.

“Hm, didn’t see any students walking out in the hallway or out of your office. Must have missed them.” Dean Banks turns his back to Javier and he glances down at his lap to look at you with a glare, mouthing ‘Knock it off’.

In an act of defiance, you take full advantage of the dynamic to make eye contact with him before taking his cock in its entirety down your throat. You gag around it and Javier coughs and groans out of a sudden reaction. The Dean turns around quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

“Y’alright there, Peña?”

Javier nods quickly, wiping the subtle sweat built up by nerves on his forehead and takes a deep breath while you continually take him deep in your throat and move your head up and down his length.

“Yeah, yeah. Just got a, uh, a….headache.”

The Dean nods and claps his hands together, walking toward the door, “Well I won’t keep you for any longer then, better get home and get some rest. Glad to hear there are no issues with your new course. Chat soon, Big Man.”

Javier rolls his eyes again at the Dean’s back when he exits and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s another beat before the coast is clear enough and Javier wheels his chair back, you walking on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His chest is breathing deep, looking up at him through your lashes. Unimpressed anger is painted across his face, a stern shake of his head before his voice comes out low and intimidating, making your thighs squeeze together to feel your panties cling to your wetness.

“Thought that was funny, bebita? Doing that while we had company? Pequeña mocosa. (Little brat.)” Javier ticks his tongue in his mouth and pulls you off of his cock, strings of spit connecting you to his still-aching cock. “Y’know, I should just bend you right over this desk and fuck you full of me, so you have to walk around all day with me dripping out of you. How’s that sound for payback, huh?”

Your mind is reeling with the thought of him fucking you against his desk, a whimper sounding in your throat and your thighs rubbing together for any bit of relief. A hand of yours moves to go between your legs, desperate to touch yourself, but Javier quickly grabs it, hooking your other hand with his larger one and bringing them both above your head.

“Oh, but mi zorrita would like that though, wouldn’t she? Not much of a punishment. Guess I’ll just have to fuck your mouth and come down your throat then.”

He stands from his chair and kicks it away behind him, tugging you closer and to sit taller by your hands above your head. The unoccupied hand grips his cock at the base, positioning himself in front of your face, tapping the head of his cock against your plush bottom lip.

“Open, angel. If you’re gonna be a brat, una mocosa, m’gonna fuck you like one.”

No more protests are had from you, opening your mouth as wide as possible and humming around Javi when he slips into your mouth. He sighs, tilting his head back toward the ceiling with a quiet moan. After a second of being still, halfway filling your mouth, he looks down at you again and starts to thrust his hips — slowly and shallow at first before his patience snaps and he moves quicker and deeper.

His cock hits the back of your throat each time, a bruising pace making your core throb with a burning desire, imagining the same feeling but inside of your pussy. You moan around him, choking when he gets the deepest you’ve had him ever, gagging harshly and swallowing around him to attempt to recover.

Javier is blinded with pleasure, soft begs of your name repeatedly falling from his lips before he gives you another hard fuck to your throat, one last gag before he’s pulling back and spilling ropes of his come onto your tongue. He pulls out, the last few painted across your lips as he looks down at you, breathless while his chest heaves and drops your hands from his grip.

“Fuck, bebita, such a little fucking slut taking me like that.”

In the midst of your own recovery, you stick your tongue out to show him before swallowing his spend, coughing quietly. Javier quickly grabs a few tissues and sits in his desk chair, gingerly wiping off the evidence of his punishment from your face. It’s silent between you two while you watch him focus on the task, reaching a hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“M’sorry if I was too rough, angel. Caught a bit too caught up there…” he avoids your eyes, tossing aside the Kleenex and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I liked it,” you confess, standing up from your knees and straddling his lap in his chair as you sit down. “Liked it a lot, actually. I wanna be that for you, like an escape. Turn your brain off, 'cause we both know you overthink everything.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he chuckles, nodding before he kisses you sweetly.

“Thank you, bebita. Such a good girl for me. So sweet,” he muses, giving you another kiss, “Now how about we actually learn some Spanish for your exam?”

The next week is spent either on the phone with Javi in the evenings, when you’ve returned home from any other dates scheduled, or out with him, finding hole-in-the-wall bars and restaurants to avoid any eyes from around campus. Each time you see his name on your caller ID, or see his truck pull up outside of your apartment complex to pick you up, your heart starts with a quickened pulse, dopamine firing in your brain and giving you that stuck in lov—

No feelings. You remind yourself each time you get that serotonin increase, simply excusing it as you enjoy your time with him and the pleasure he eagerly gives you whenever you give to him.

It’s hard not to allow yourself to feel around him; Javi makes it so easy to indulge. Little moments like him calling the mechanic and getting the cost of your repairs brought down, driving you over to pick it up and paying for it himself to make sure they didn’t haggle anymore; ordering your favorite drink if he arrived at a bar or restaurant before you, or getting you something new that he thought you would enjoy; a hand on your back or waist or encompassing your own, guiding you without overpowering. Small gifts given; new books purchased when you’ve browsed bookstores he’s found for you, new favorite dresses or lingerie filling your closet that Javier claimed were as much gifts for himself as they were for you.

His care was ever present, not overwhelming until it came to the point that you thought about him and how much he was there, integrated into your life and habits and moments of joy.

Absolutely terrifying. But you couldn’t stop.

And he was feeling like he couldn’t stop either.

He didn’t know if he was overdoing it all with you, new to this sort of arrangement and its usual boundaries, but he hoped that the fact that you kept laughing and smiling, initiating kisses or more with him, that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

There were tiny snapshots where he caught himself thinking about, feeling more for you. When you sneak into his office on the days you have other classes, steal minutes with him before you have to go across campus or he has to go teach or to a department meeting. To-go cups of black coffee on your handful of morning dates at the weekend, a reminder that you made observations about him just as he was you. When you stood up for him, defended him when the other student was spreading rumors. Sure, they were true, and he’d told you as much, but to hear your subtle protectiveness was warming his long cold heart. 

He hadn’t felt like this before, and he never thought he would have the chance. Colombia had jaded him, hardened him to stone, but you were slowly chiseling away to reveal his moldable core, reshaping him into a person he knew before and at the same time, a person who was only becoming familiar these days.

Could this be love? If he didn’t know how you felt or where you stood? He never thought he was in love before, and this confirms those thoughts. Never has he felt like this, never has he been so clumsy and boyish in his relationship at times.

It’s a Thursday evening, and his classes for tomorrow are scheduled to have a break to give them more time to study for midterms. Fiddling with his phone in his hands, he wonders what you might be up to, going back and forth over whether or not to call.

Before he can think anymore, he’s finding your contact, brought straight to the top of the list when he changed the name to ‘Bebita’, and hits the green phone button.

The line rings a few times, cutting out with an answer and a rustle over the microphone before he hears your voice.

“Hi, Javi.” He can hear you sigh, sensing an edge of stress or impatience in your tone.

“Hey, bebita. You busy tonight? I wanna see you.”

“Oh, Javi, I don’t know if I can make tonight work. I’m using this weekend to study for all my midterms and to finish writing all my essays due next week and…I don’t really have time, m’really sorry,” you sound timid, exhausted and it makes him on edge, his brain immediately centering on how he can make you feel better.

“Do you need help with anything, cariño? Can I do anything?” He sits up on the couch, standing in the next moment to pace near his boots and his keys laid out on the counter, ready to pounce when you say the word.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know…I feel like I can’t even think about making my dinner right now. I’m sorry.”

The coating of your voice and the sniffle through the phone are unmistakable; you’re on the verge of tears attempting to think of what he can do, the avalanche of stress you’re feeling. A crack sharpens across his heart, hands craving to hold you close and to fix it all for you.

“Oh, bebita, dulzura, you don’t have to apologize to me. I wanna spend time with you, help you. Don’t need to be going out or doing anything else than just sittin’ with you,” he nests his phone between his shoulder and ear while he slips his boots on, “Do you mind if I come by? If it stresses you out, you can tell me to leave but if I’m there maybe I can find something to help with.”

It’s quiet on the line while you consider, another sniffle nearly sending him out the door without your actual answer.

“Okay, yeah. You can come over. But I look like a mess and my apartment looks like a tornado went through it and I might cry in front of you.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head while he grabs his phone with his hand to keep it against his ear. His free hand grabs for his keys, plucking his jacket off the coat rack and already walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about any of that, bebita. M’here to help you, I wanna take care of you,” he hears a hum of acknowledgment from you, “I’ll be there in like half an hour, alright? Gotta make a couple stops while I’m out and then I’ll be there for you, okay?”

“Okay…” you say quietly, “Thank you, Javi.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, a knock raps on your front door, strong and short. Glancing up at the entrance, you see the lock turned and call out loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

“It’s open!”

The door unlatches and swings open, the rustle of bags hitting your ears before the sight of Javi hits your eyes. He juggles the thin plastic handles of the grocery haul in his hands, shaking his head as he pushes the door closed behind him with his boot-clad foot.

“Don’t like that you're keeping your door unlocked, bebita. S’not safe, what if I wasn’t me?” The strict, skeptical agent shows through — paranoia in his eyes while he sets down the bags on your counter, walking back over to lock the door and shrug off his black leather jacket. Underneath his outerwear, the black short-sleeve button-up clings to his torso and stretches at his shoulders. It’s tucked into his usual jeans with his belt on display, and one look exchanged with him reminds him to kick off his shoes — baby blue socks with small figures of different types of dogs patterning the surfaces of them.

“Hello to you, Javier,” you chuckle and turn back to your books, continuing to read over the chapter summary you were engrossed with before his entrance.

His sock-covered feet pad softly over to you at your dining table, taking in the sight of you before he stands behind you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Hi, bebita.” He smiles when you lay your head back to look up at him behind you, grinning and giggling when he leans over again to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” A laugh leaves your mouth in quiet breaths when he rolls his eyes, steps back to your kitchen counter and starts to unpack everything. You pull yourself away from the table to follow him over, shaking your head at all of the snacks, drinks, and extra pens and notecards spilling out of the bags. “Gosh, Javi. How much stuff did you get?”

He glanced at you sheepishly, shrugging, “Didn’t know what you might want, so kind of got everything I thought you’d like.”

One hand lands on his bicep closest to you, turning his attention to you for you to lean up and kiss him sweetly. You can feel your heart in your throat at the expanse of his thoughtfulness, truly wanting to come over to help without any other expectations.

“I like your socks, by the way.” Another kiss is stolen before you’re back to the table, plopping down and attempting to fall back into studying. A long sigh leaves your lips and Javi frowns when he looks over at you, hyper-focused on all the text laid out in front of you. He putters around your kitchen, poking through to find plates and silverware to keep from asking you; dishing up the takeout he got after putting away the snacks and drinks, he walks back over and sets a plate down in front of you.

“Pause for a few minutes, angel, you gotta eat. And I got your favorite from that Thai restaurant we went to last week.” Javi takes the seat at the corner next to you, pulling away your books to clear a spot for you to eat. The look on your face is painful when you pick up the fork as if any more energy expended for a task other than studying is too much to handle.

“Thank you, Javi. Really. I think it would have been one of those eating shredded cheese from the bag or potato chips over the sink kind of nights if you didn’t come.”

“No need to apologize, bebita. M’always here for you,” he speaks tenderly with a smile, the two of you making light conversation while you eat. Before he clears the plates back to the kitchen, he takes your hand lying on the surface and toys with your fingers. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t be offended, but I’ll stick around for a few minutes in case you need me, okay?”

Immediately you shake your head and grip his hand in yours, “No, please stay. D’you mind helping me study? Like quizzing me or something? I want….I want you to stay here. Please.”

Javier holds back a wide smile, giddiness kicking up inside him. He clears his throat and nods, squeezing your hand. He stands up and bends forward to kiss your forehead, “Course I’ll help you study, angel. Let me clean up all this and then we’ll get started, yeah?”

It’s for the next couple of hours that Javier studies with you, asking you sample exam questions from the textbook and quizzing you with the notecards that you’ve made. He keeps you supplied with snacks and hydrated with water, intermittently joking with you to keep you relaxed.

It’s about eleven o’clock at night, Javi’s been here for four hours, and the rest of the weekend is ahead of you both. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, newly made notecards in his hands while you pace the kitchen in front of him. A hand runs through your hair, tugging and sighing when you can’t remember.

“God, I don’t—I don’t know…” You continue your pacing and shake your head, feeling your heart rate increase and your throat start to constrict with anxiety. The hand in your hair moves to press against your chest. “I really don’t know, shit, can you—can you tell me please?”

“Lombroso’s concept of a born criminal is atavism.”

The next few cards you also forget or get wrong and after the last incorrect answer, you stop in the tracks of your pacing. Angry tears of frustration burn at your eyes, words caught in your throat, and breaths come out short and harsh. Javier looks up at you when your movement stops, brows knitting together with concern when he sees the tears in your eyes and hears the clipped inhales and exhales.

“Bebita, c’mere.” Javi pats his lap and you shuffle over, straddling his legs and sitting in his lap to face him. “Let’s call it for tonight. We have all weekend to get you feeling confident for the exam, but trying to push yourself anymore tonight is only going to make you feel worse.”

“But—"

Javier shakes his head and brings his hands up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping away the few tears that have fallen.

“No, no ‘buts’. There’s no need to be getting upset about it. You’re exhausted and overworked, you’ve been doing this all day. And you know all of this, I know you do, angel. You’re too tired to concentrate and you need to rest.”

“God, I wish I could turn my brain off. This is all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about.”

“I can help with that, bebita.” Javier’s hands run up and down your thighs, snaking around to palm your ass with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, yeah? And how would you do that?” You play dumb, feigning innocence to his suggestion. Brow cocked up, mouth pursued in curiosity.

“Hm, think we both know what I would do, but m’happy to tell you.” His hands roam again, trailing up your sides to cup under your breasts through your flimsy t-shirt. Your nipples pebble underneath the material when his thumbs brush over them, a satisfied smirk on his face at the sight. “I’ll take you into your bedroom. Kiss you, play with you until you’re dripping for me. And then I’m gonna use my mouth on you, jus’ like the first time, and make you come for me over and over until I think you’re ready. And when you’re begging for me, I’ll give you exactly what you want, bebita. My sweet zorrita is gonna get exactly what she needs — a good fucking.”

Your hips start to grind into his lap, nodding slowly as you listen to him and whining quietly as your eyes close. His hands stall your motions, bringing your attention to him as he admires you from below.

“Let’s go, baby. Think you need it now,” he rasps out, helping you up from his lap and following close behind you. His hands stay at your hips while you walk ahead of him at a delayed pace, his lips kissing and teeth biting at your neck. Trailing down the hallway, he slowly undresses you, leaving each article of clothing on the floor in your wake. Once the two of you reach your bedroom, he turns you toward him and kisses you hurriedly, moaning against your lips when he feels your hand palm him over his jeans.

Javier pulls himself back from you, shaking his head as he steps you backward to hit the edge of your bed, pushing you to sit and nodding to the center of the mattress. You scoot back a bit until he stops you in place, getting onto his knees at the side of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He unbuttons a few of the top buttons on his shirt, loosening the material around his shoulders, and licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

“God, bebita, you’re always so ready for me. Whenever I want you. Do I get you that worked up being around you, hm?” His tone is cocky as he speaks, dragging two fingers through your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He slips those fingers in his mouth, working his tongue around them and moaning at the taste of you. The fingers pull out of his mouth with an audible pop, and you get onto your elbows to look at him in the eyes as he pushes those same fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck, Javi…” you moan, rolling your head back as he fucks you with his fingers, shallow and slow at first. He’s mesmerized by the view of you taking it easily, sweet little sounds hitting his ears in a satisfying way. “M-More, please. Pretty please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, angel.” He chuckles and adds another digit, picking up his speed and getting as deep into you as he can. His other hand uses its thumb to run quick circles on your dripping clit, moaning to himself when your noises get louder and higher pitched. “You close already, bebita?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck, m’gonna come—“ You clench around his fingers, gripping the duvet under your hands.

“Ask, baby. Gotta mind your manners, mi zorrita.”

“Ple—please may I come, Javi? M’so close, oh my god,” you tack a whine at the end, lifting your hips and huffing out a breath when he pushes them back down.

“Go ahead, bebita. Come for me—" You moan his name loudly and squeeze your eyes shut, your walls gripping around his fingers tightly. “Oh, yes, fuck. That’s it, angel, that’s it.”

He works you through your orgasm, your breaths evening out after a minute. Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s inching closer between your legs, lips dragging along your inner thighs. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, angelita? Make good on all my promises,” he challenges you and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head between your thighs.

At his first full taste, a switch flips and he devours you like a starving man — sucking, licking, fucking you with his tongue. You’re writhing under him, one strong hand splayed against your lower tummy to keep you down.

“Javi, oh fuck, feels so fucking good—oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this. Has anyone ever told you that?” You ramble the closer you get and Javi smirks against you, the words egging him on to give you more.

He pulls two conservative orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain is slowly shutting off, study materials are completely forgotten, and limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed.

Javier stands from the floor, a soft groan and clicking of his knees drawing your attention to him. He strips down from his own clothes, standing in his underwear and nodding to you on the bed.

“Scoot up, baby — that’s it, good girl.” He smirks when you move languidly, reaching out for him when he climbs onto the bed on his knees. Your arms fall to rest stretched above your head, putting you completely on display for him.

“How d’you want me, Javi?” you purr and it nearly sends him reeling, but he shakes his head and smirks down at you.

“Jus’ like this, babygirl. Wanna be able to see you, watch your pretty face as I take care of you.” Javier reaches his hand toward you, instructing you to lick. He takes the same hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he spreads your legs with his other hand. Settling between them, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, nudging your overly sensitive clit and chuckling darkly when your thighs twitch.

“Javi, please—" He shuts you up with further teasing, slipping himself inside, just the tip. He hisses from behind his bared teeth, rolling his head back to recover before he gives a few pumps of his hips and pulls out of you completely. The next move he teases your clit again, sliding his cock down to prod at the entrance of your tightest hole before moving back up to your cunt slipping just the tip inside of you again.

Under him, you're twitching and writhing with whines and whimpers, gripping the sheets.

“Javi, please, need you.” You choke out, a soft sob of a moan when he keeps fucking you with only his tip, refusing to give you any more inches. The next word leaves on an exhale before you can think about it, “Daddy…”

“What was that, bebita? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Daddy, fuck me, please.”

Javier stills for a moment, processing exactly what you said while you’re silent, anxiety heightening with each tick of the clock and his lack of response. His hips are still shallowly fucking you, involuntary whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna call me that? Got you so cockdumb before I’ve even given it to you.” His eyes are nearly pitched-black, desire evident in his roaming, worshiping hands.

“Yes, yes please, daddy. I need you, please.” The words catch in your throat and you arch your back for him, tits slightly jiggling with the motion.

“You wanted to work on your Spanish, huh? No daddy, bebita. Llámame Papí (Call me Papí). Say it, bebita. Say it for me, buena chica.” His acceptance of your knee-jerk word spill has your mind melting, clenching your walls around the tip of his cock that’s buried inside of you. “Say it.”

“Papí…” you exhale, the noise choking in your throat when he thrusts hard to fill you up to the hilt. A sobbing moan leaves your mouth when he pulls nearly out of you, only to start a punishing pace fucking you hard and deep.

“That’s right, bebita. M’taking care of you, right? Just like a papí should. You call me that as much as you want, angel. Like hearing it come from you.”

Javier grunts at the strain of how hard he’s fucking you, the sounds of your whines and his groans mixing into a melody with the slaps of skin together. It’s filthy if anyone was looking in, but the thought of that makes him fuck you harder, relishing in the sound of your wetness squelching around his cock.

“God, mi bebita, you are taking my cock so well. You like it? Am I filling you up?”

“Yes—oh my god, taking care of me…”

“That’s right, bebita, M’gonna take care of you. You wanna come on my cock, angel?”

“Yes please, daddy…”

Javi’s hips stutter at you saying it, starting again harder and faster, “Not daddy, bebita. You wanna call me that, you call me Papí, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

“P-Papí, oh my fuck, feels so good. So full, Papí.” You’re rambling under him, incomplete and incoherent thoughts, “Oh, fuck— Just there— Papí, papí, papí, ohmygod right there!”

The name is dripping with sweetness from your lips, snapping something into his brain. He’s desperate to provide for you, to take care of you in any way you need. Right now, that is fucking you dumb enough to forget about your stress. Tomorrow, it’ll be getting you coffee in the morning and helping you reevaluate your study materials.

Underneath him, you’re feeling something of the same, enamored with the man above you. The same one who drove around town to pick up things he thought you would like, feeding you, helping you study. The one who smiles at you in the halls, and calls you his babygirl behind doors. Now, he’s fucking you into oblivion and melting your brain to mush to give you what you need. He grips your legs and presses them to fold at your sides, the adjusted position bringing him deeper than before. The head of him hits that special spot inside of you, over and over until it’s driving you to the edge fast.

“Oh, fuck! Papí! Please—Please, please, please. Gonna come, please may I come, Papí?” Your brain turns on its entire leftover power to ask politely, knowing your manners would still have to be minded with your cockdumb mind.

“Such a good girl, so polite. Come for me, bebita. Let me feel your tight pussy grip my cock.” Javier groans when you let go as soon as you get his permission, relishing in the look on your face with a perfect ‘O’ mouth and walls sucking him in further as his thrusts slow down. The tightness of you brings him to his own peak, feeling precum dribbling out inside of you as he gets as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh fuck, fuck, angel. Gonna fucking come, where d’you want me?” His brow knits together with a look of pain, and you breathlessly answer.

“Outside, please, Papí. Anywhere else you want.”

He nods and pulls out of you, using his fist to fuck himself, painting his come across your torso in long ropes. Javier moans your name over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest heaves with relief.

It’s quiet, nothing spoken while you both crash down. In a moment of clarity in his post-orgasm haze, he stretches over to your nightstand to grab a few tissues, wiping you clean of his spend. He tosses it in your desk trash bin, searching around the floor for his clothes. When he picks up his boxers, you make a small noise of protest and grab his attention.

“Don’t—Um, would you—" You can’t get the words out, shyness clawing at your throat. Javier fills in the blanks, smiling softly at you as he drops his boxers and climbs back onto your bed over your lying form.

“D’you want me to stay, bebita?”

You nod and smile sheepishly, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinning wider when he leans down to kiss you chastely.

“Can you ask me, angel?”

“Will you have a sleepover with me…Papí?” you giggle as you tack on the name at the end, Javier smirking and nodding his head.

“Of course I’ll stay. And if you keep pulling that out all the time, there’s going to be a lot of fucking in random places. Jus’ does something for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Think you know that, bebita. Mi bebita.” 

“Well, that does the same thing for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. I like being your bebita.”

“Siempre, Bebita. Always gonna be it.” Javier punctuates the conversation with another kiss, laying down completely next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. His fingers play with your hair, laying your head on his chest as you close your eyes.

A thought pops into your head, picking up your head to look Javi in the eyes.

“Are you gonna be going to the department event next week?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now, angel?”

“Yes, now please answer.” You poke his chest, giggling when he pinches your side playfully.

“I will be there, yes, Bebita. I’m assuming you’re going too?” He asks as he closes his eyes, exhaustion overcoming him slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, tracing shapes against his skin, “Well, would you wanna pick out my dress for it?”

That grabs his attention, his eyes shooting open with a grin growing across his face.

“Gonna let me choose what I get to see you in, Bebita? Don’t know if you want that, 'cause I could have you walking around in nothing.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head before laying on his chest again and closing your eyes to sleep.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that. Would you really want all those people looking at me? Thought I was all yours, don’t you wanna keep me to yourself?”

“Damn, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to pick out a pretty dress and then I can take you home and have you walk around in nothing for me.” He smiles and kisses the top of your head, sighing out a tired exhale. “Now, sleep time, Bebita. You dream of the pretty dresses I’ll get for you, no exams, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you in nothing.”

A laugh escapes your lips, nodding in agreement, “Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, Bebita.” There’s more he wants to say, burning in his chest, but he knows it’s too soon — too much right now and it would scare you off. Instead, he holds you closer and kisses your head again, drifting off contently with you in his arms to take care of.

taglist: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @mrsjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446

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#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña au #javier peña angst #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction

[lyrazehedgieboiii]

Photo

Hey Hedgie Squad! First of all, I’d like to say thank you to all of you for liking the things I post! I found that a lot of people liked my last post, and that made me really happy!!!!! Second of all, @bunnylass17 requested for #25, which would be photo. I really hope you like it! You are a huge inspiration to!

   “Hi! What’s your name?” A cobalt hedgehog, with the eyes of emeralds asked.

    “R-,” the pink girl stopped herself. This was someone new, he didn’t know her name...it’s best if he just called her by... “A-Amy. Amy Rose.” That’s much better. She didn’t want to be called by her childhood nickname. She wanted to be called by a much mature name. Her real name.

   “Well, it’s nice to meetcha Amy! Say, do you know why Metal Me captured you? There’s always a reason behind why he does dumb stuff like that.” the child, who looked about 11, said with concern. The young girl fell in love immediately. ‘Amy’, jumped up, and tackled the blue stranger. He started struggling in her grasp, trying to squirm free.

   “Can’t-...BREATHE!” Amy immediately let go, her ‘true love’ panting, as though he had just ran a marathon (which would be easy for him) After a few moments, Amy’s hero had stood back up, regaining his confident posture. “I’m-” His introduction was interrupted by the squeal of the little Rose in front of him.

   “Sonic the Hedgehog! I’ve heard of you! My tarot cards told me that I’d be destined to meet you! So we’ll fall in love, get married, have children, grow old together, and be loved forever! Doesn’t that sound romantic, my hero?” Amy looked to her side and noticed that Sonic had zipped off, thinking that she was another one of his crazed fangirls. But little did he know...

-

“SONIC!” A 15 year old Sonic, whose name was called by his 12 year old friend, Amy Rose, was glomped from behind. He tried pulling her off, but gave up, as she had immense strength. He liked the attention Amy gave him, but her clingy actions, not so much. Amy let go, and he turned around to face her.

 “Uhh...Hey, Ames. Nice to see ya!” Sonic exclaimed, hoping she wouldn’t unexpectedly glomp him again.

  “Is everyone here?” Tails asked. He looked around, checking everyone off in his mind. “Okay then! Get ready!” Tails put the camera on a ten second timer, and hurried to his spot next to Knuckles. Amy clung onto Sonic’s arm, planting a kiss on his cheek as the camera flashed into the team’s eyes. Not only was Team Sonic in the picture, but Team Dark and Team Rose. The Chaotix were there as well. The picture was printed out so everyone got a copy. Amy hung it over her bed.

-

   “So, I heard a specific someone was out on a date.” Sonic scowled at his petite pink friend. His quills had become a slight bit darker during the years, like a royal blue color. He had overheard Rouge talking to Cream about Amy going out with someone. That someone being Shadow. “What were you gonna do with Shadow?” Amy noticed how his voice seemed dark...

No...

He couldn’t be...

Jealous?..

“Sonic...Since when do you care about me going out with other people?” She could’ve sworn she saw red on his cheeks. To be honest, she was blushing the whole time because Sonic was leaning on the wall right next to her.

  “I-I’m your friend, and it’s my job you don’t get heartbroken or hurt by anyone-”

  “Like you used to all these years?!” Amy snapped. Both her and the blue hedgie looked shocked at her sudden and rude outburst. “I don’t like him, he just needed love advice for someone...” Amy turned her head down. Sonic’s glare was piercing through her pink head. Sonic’s finger went down to Amy’s chin, and lifted her face up. She was crying. Amy’s ears were flat against her head, and Sonic felt guilty. “I-I’m sorry, Sonic. I didn’t mean to...” Sonic bent down and brushed her lips against his. Amy’s face and ears went bright red.

Amy, being the stubborn hedgie that she was, pressed her lips onto Sonic’s roughly, as if it was the last thing they could ever do. Sonic happily returned the favor. He licked her lips, and she happily allowed entrance. As Sonic put his hands on her waist, the sound of a camera clicking could be heard. Sonic and Amy pulled away, their bodies tingling with excitement.

   “GOT IT!” Tails yelled and his mouth was covered by Rouge and was tackled by Cream into the bush making sure they weren’t seen. Sonic and Amy sweatdropped at the stalkers in the bush.

-

   “Who said that Sonic would propose within five months of dating?” Rouge asked, while all their friends dove into chocolate cake.

   “Me!” Cream and Tails yelled simultaneously. Shadow and Knuckles groaned, taking out fifty mobiums from their wallets. Amy giggled.

   “Couldn’t you have done it a bit later, faker?” Shadow grumbled.

   “But Shadow! I would’ve proposed to Sonic if he’d waited a bit longer.” Amy said, stroking Sonic’s knuckles under the table.

    “Wait, we had a bet for that, too! Who guessed that Amy’d propose first?” Silver asked. Everyone excluding Cream and Tails gave took their money out.

    “This money is to convince Amy to get off of life control!” A drunk Vector cheered.

   “Life control? Oh my Chaos, Amy are you dying?” Sonia, Sonic’s triplet sister asked.

   “I think Vector meant birth control. But how do you know about that?” Amy asked, startled by Vector knowing a private fact.

  “Oh, Sonic said how he’d been dying to have babies with you.” The crocodile hiccuped.

  “Well, that urge can now be fulfilled! Make us nieces and nephews! Make a lot of’em!” Rouge exclaimed, handing a bag with the specific ‘necessities’ of a honeymoon. Amy turned red when she saw what was in the bag. Tomorrow night would sure be fun.

-

“I’M GOING TO F***ING KILL YOU FOR THIS, SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!!!” We move on, as we see Amy Rose the Hedgehog screaming into Sonic’s ear while she had contractions, and was struggling to push. 

A child’s crying could be heard. 

Amy looked over to her husband, who had fainted on the ground. He gave a thumbs up and said “Worth it.” Amy was given her child, and decided to go with a name similar to Sonic’s, but the name would depend on what the child looked like. A royal blue hedgehog with streaks of navy blue and indigo softly squeaked and nuzzled into Amy’s chest. 

    “Say cheese.” Amy smiled and looked up to see her friends all standing there, watching the new mother bond with her baby. 

-

   “Hey Ames! Where are you? I just put Blur to bed!~” Sonic said in a sing-song voice.

   “I’m in the attic!” Amy yelled softly, making sure she didn’t wake her little hedgie up. Sonic’s head appeared through the attic door.

  “Whatcha lookin’ at?” He asked, as he laid next to his wife.

   “I’m just looking at memories.” Amy showed him the album. 

There was the photo from when they first met, 

The photo celebrating their one-year anniversary as getting together as a team,

The photo of Sonic and Amy’s first real kiss,

The photo of Amy and Sonic being declared as bride and groom,

And the photo of Sonic and Amy’s first child. 

Sonic knew for certain that there’d be many more photos to come.

“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.”

Thanks for reading, I really hope you enjoyed! I tried to make this sound really descriptive, and tried to stay on the right path and not get carried away. If you want more prompts, DM me or ask me for something you want written because I can’t write canon stories if I tried. Again, thank you @bunnylass17 for giving me the prompt, you made me so happy!

#sonamy #sonamy through the ages #word prompt #sonamy prompts #sonamy fanfiction #sonamy fan #lyra ze hedgie boiii #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #i tried my best #hope you like it #oneshot will be posted over the weekend

[drsilverfish]

Nothing Gold Can Stay... (15x04 Atomic Monsters)

Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost

Hey everyone, as ever, I am catching up British-time, so I haven’t jumped into your posts yet, but I’m looking forward to it!

I’m sure there are some great gifs and discussions already out there about Dean and his “man meat” grief-eating. 

But I thought I’d start with Veronica and Robert Frost.

Those of you who’ve been following mine or @occamshipper​ ‘s musings on the use of alchemical themes in Dabb-era SPN will know that gold was highly significant to the medieval alchemists. It was their ultimate goal, to turn “base metal” (lead) into gold, and that was understood as a metaphor (or a mirror on the earthly plane) for the refinement of the soul on its journey to God. 

Next week’s episode, 15x05, is titled  Proverbs 17.3, and in the Bible, Proverbs 17.3 reads (King James version):

The fining pot is for silver, and the furnace for gold:

But the LORD trieth the hearts

Gold is, officially, a theme. As is the symbolic red of the heart.

As Becky tells Chuck, it’s not the monsters (ooh shade at the Leviathan, whom Chuck thinks were “great”, just like he thought the ending of Game of Thrones was “great”) which SPN fans are really interested in, it’s the emotional interactions between the characters - i.e. their hearts. 

Becky, in Perez’ metafictional commentary, is the fan-fiction representative who has come to understand the SPN story better than sucky origin-writer Chuck. She knows it’s about the emotional notes, the heartfelt conversations between the hero characters (including Cas, since she shades his non-mention all too often in Chuck’s MOTW stories) - aka the real “gold” of the story.

Interesting also, in terms of alchemical colour symbolism, are Sam’s God-wound induced “red visions”, which seem to be of an AU in which Sam has succumbed to his old demon-blood addiction (symbolic of his S5 apparent “destiny” of possession by Lucifer):

I was waiting for the Ouroboros (spiral/ circular narrative) reference to 5x04 The End (in its numerical correspondence to 15x04). And here it is, because Sam in the red-vision in 15x04 speaks in a similar voice to Lucifer!Sam in The End. Dean in the 15x04 red vision is a desperate fighter and Sam has said “Yes” to the demonic, just as was the case in 5x04 The End.:

In alchemy, there are four traditional colour-stages along the alchemical transformational road from lead to gold - nigredo (blackening) albedo (whitening) citrinitas (yellowing) and rubedo (reddening). Reddening is the final stage before gold. So Sam’s red-visions, and the gold which becomes a theme in 15x04 by means of the quotation from Robert Frost’s beautiful poem, are linked pieces of alchemical symbolism. 

Their meaning, I think, is that just as Amara’s link to Dean through the Mark of Cain changed Amara for the better (she learned about love through experiencing Dean’s “heart” through the Mark in S11, thus shaking off The DarknessTM to become clothed in yellow, the colour of the sun, at the start of S15), so Sam’s link to Chuck through the God-gun (of equalising/ revenge) will (hopefully, eventually) change Chuck for the better. A balance of powers - the feminine God-principle and the masculine God-principle, both learning compassion and becoming their higher selves (achieving the spiritual synthesis of “gold”) through their links to the (red) hearts of the Winchesters.

That means suffering for the Winchesters along the way, of course, as they too, undergo the alchemical process of self-transformation by (eventually) fully facing their Shadows (their unconscious); Sam’s fear of being permanently “contaminated” by the demon-blood fed to him as a baby, and Dean’s fear of abandonment (stemming from the loss of his mother) which leads him to be over-controlling and to act out and push people (ahem, Cas) away.    

But back to Veronica. Veronica who quotes Robert Frost’s lovely poem in her tribute speech to her “best friend” Suzy (possibly, her lover - that subtextual reading is certainly available).

Veronica is a fascinating character, because she is “read wrong”, by Dean in particular, who thinks she’s the vampire, the one killing her cheerleader rivals in order to get the top spot. And he’s wrong because, as Sam points out, she has braces, a no-no for vamp-teeth. Dean is really sarcastic about the memorial speech Veronica is practising for Suzy, of whom she says, “I’m lost without Suzy, it’s like a piece of my heart is gone.”  

Here is Dean, being a sarcastic little shit about Veronica’s emotive school-girl speech: 

Of course, Veronica’s eulogy for her dead beloved, who was “gold” and thus (in her Frost’s poem analogy) was too beautiful to last in this world, is too painful for Dean to hear. It verbalises what he cannot (he can’t even bear to speak Castiel’s name, all episode):

“My best friend Suzy who I miss like she was a part of me, and in many ways she’s still a part of me.”

In subtext, Dean also reads Veronica “wrong” because he thinks she was Suzy’s rival, when in fact, she was her lover (part of a Veronica-Suzy-Billy love-triangle, the F/F element emphasised by their attendance at a school called “Beaverdale” where “beaver” is of course slang for vagina). 

Look at all those red hearts (symbols of romantic love) on Suzy’s memorial pin-board, Indeed, look at all that red in general. A “match” for Sam’s “red-visions”. If Sam’s rubedo (alchemical reddening) trial is his God-wound, Dean’s is his separation from Cas: 

Veronica, it seems (unbeknownst to the Winchesters) is a neophyte hunter (as well as, in subtext, Suzy’s lover) a sleuth, on the trail of whoever killed Suzy. And it looks like she knows it was a vampire. When Sam and Dean are questioning her (and she’s clearly suspicious of them) we see her with a syringe of what looks like blood behind her back, ready to jab them:

We know, from 1x20 Dead Man’s Blood, that in the SPN universe, a dead person’s blood can temporarily take down a vamp. So it seems that whilst Dean suspects Veronica of being the vampire, she suspects the Winchesters (a recurrence of SPN’s perennial - “Who is really the monster?”/ it’s not black-and-white theme. The reference to Dead Man’s Blood is also interesting, as this was an early episode in which Dean defied his father (stepped out of being John’s “good little solider”, who did see monsters in black-and-white) yet now, we have, Ouroboros-style Dean regressing to old John-learned behaviours (conceal, don’t feel) after the second death of Mary. 

I love this little Veronica detail. It’s an un-explored thread in the story, a piece of fan-fiction catnip begging for further elaboration. More Perez meta-narrative, in fact, in which he suggests that, despite the sinister Chuck and his insistence on a final SPN ending with a gravestone reading “Winchesters”, the story itself is WaywardTM; it is capable of fluidity, of control being wrested from the origin-creator (God). After all, Chuck created free will, and despite his desire for total control, he cannot undo this wild-card element in the narrative, which Veronica’s little secret hunter-identity (in subtext, also, her secret queer identity) just like Becky’s fan-fic, is a mirror for. 

Veronica’s citation of Frost’s melancholic poem becomes a metaphor for (Dean’s) lost love. Just as Sam’s mention in the final Impala scene, of how he still thinks about Jess often, becomes a verbalisation for Dean’s own constant (unspoken) thoughts about his own lost love; Cas.

 Veronica and Billy (who were possibly both Suzy’s lovers; although in text it’s Billy, in subtext Veronica, true to SPN’s ongoing bisexual subtext in relation to Dean) exchange a memorial bracelet to Suzy in front of Suzy’s picture, as Veronica tells Billy a piece of her heart is gone:

Both are mirror images for Dean - Veronica-the-vampire-hunter who mourns excessively, and Billy-the-vampire, who has killed the person he loved (just as Dean has driven Cas away):

Dean is forced by Chuck’s authorial hand to kill Billy, who is both a representation of his own lost son, Jack (Chuck’s cruel re-staging of the scene in which Dean almost kills Jack in 14x20 Moriah) and of Dean himself (symbolising Dean’s present “self-murder” aka his self-punishment and repression re Cas):

Nothing gold can stay....

Frost’s poem is also used by Perez as a metanarrative commentary on the sadness we all feel as SPN draws to a close. Everything beautiful has its time to fade and die, Frost says; even SPN, says Perez.

Frost’s poem also makes reference to Eden, to the Fall, and how that was, in God’s plan, an inevitability; the descent from the Godly to the earthly. 

It’s noticeable how, just as The Fall was presented as Eve’s fault in the Bible, Chuck is, yet again, trying to eliminate the feminine principle from the narrative, just as he has always done throughout SPN (which began with the deaths of Mary Winchester and Jess). Chuck kills Suzy, as the driver of the episode, and he “poufs” Becky (the fan-fic writer) out of existence (possibly into an AU) so he can finish the story the way he wants, just as he has re-murdered Mary Winchester (or possibly also poufed her into an AU) to continue the Winchesters’ suffering. 

But Chuck’s determination to arrive at a tragic ending, an ending in which the feminine principle is still subjugated, Perez suggests, can be subverted, because the seeds of subversion are already there in the story; Veronica’s secret and subversive sleuthing (slash her subtextual queerness), Becky’s emotionally open, subversive, fan-fic, and the continued yearning of the Winchesters for true free will (not yet knowing Chuck is still actively f-ing with them) despite the burden of their grief,  

If gold is the result of the final alchemical synthesis, of “masculine” and “feminine” principles, of the conscious and the unconscious mind, here represented by Chuck-the-author and Becky-the-fan-fic writer (who were once a couple, but are now broken up, just as Chuck and Amara, Dean and Cas, are currently broken up).... Then, the alchemical symbolism suggests, the darkness of the break-up stage (The Abyss, which we are currently in) can be overcome by the red (rubedo) power of the heart - Sam’s God-wound trial, his heart-connection to Chuck, and Dean’s own heart-wound trial, the loss of his (heart) connection to Cas.

Yes, we are still working on the power of love.

Love ultimately confounded Chuck’s apocalypse in S5, when TFW went “off script” and, Ouroboros-style, it can do so again in S15.

Chuck can be overthrown (transformed), Perez tells us, by his own story; and thus the story can find its own (heart-filled) free will ending. 

Perhaps, after all, something gold can stay.*   

*My usual disclaimer applies - none of this suggests or implies an inevitable Dean/ Cas romantic (unequivocal) textualisation. 

Although, I would like to think that Perez, by including the by now all too formulaic Dean-is-bisexual subtext via bisexual (subtextual) mirroring in 15x04, is commenting, meta-fictionally, on Chuck’s (aka TPTB’s) (wearisome) eternal tendency to do this, thereby suggesting that the over-turning of Chuck’s narrative control should, by rights, also include the overturning of this formula into... something new. 

#Supernatural #15x04 #Atomic Monsters #SPN meta #Meta #5x04 #The End #Ouroboros narrative #Alchemy in S15 #Alchemy in SPN #Dean is bisexual #Still subtext #But subtext IS part of narrative #As above so below #Mirroring as narrative device #Chuck Shurley #SPN metanarrative #Long post for TS

[amydancepants-peralta]

i love your precious heart

(chapter seven of we’re the fortunate ones) ♥️

season seven: i love your precious heart

For the longest time, there was a part of Jake Peralta that genuinely didn’t believe he was deserving of any special kind of love or affection.  Years of rejection; from the revolving doors made up of fathers, step-fathers and short-lived relationships, had led to the once quiet inner voices growing louder - reminding him every chance they could that any state of legitimate happiness simply was not meant for him.

(Dr. Marcia, the therapist he’s been seeing once a fortnight for a close to a year now, has helped him to understand this.)

This New Year’s Eve, standing here on the fire escape that runs along the outside of the apartment he shares with his wife, is not one of those moments.

Their plans for the evening had skewed slightly from their original schedule, partially because Jake had heard the sighs of dejection Amy made when she’d returned yet another ill-fitting dress back into their wardrobe.  Her body is changing in a lot of ways this year - some of them rapidly, others sneaking up on her so slowly it drove her insane - and when he remembered that Amy hadn’t really had the chance to go shopping for a decent range of maternity clothes yet, Jake had moved quickly to devise an alternative plan that seemed both spontaneous and not-at-all-related to a lack of party outfit options.  

Pouring them each a glass of sparkling apple cider (if Amy can’t drink, then Jake can’t drink - and he’s not interested in hearing arguments that suggest otherwise), he had googled events that were happening nearby, found one with fireworks, and with his brilliant detective skills had deduced that their fire escape will face exactly the right direction to watch the show without ever having to leave their house.  And maybe Amy had already been hoping that he would come to the same conclusion, or maybe she was just a really big fan of fire escape parties (he suspects, though, that it is the former) but either way, her dress had been swapped for sweatpants within minutes of Jake’s suggestion, and the relaxation on her face simply made her all the more beautiful.

They’d spent the entire evening rotating between the living room and the tiny space outside that Jake had stocked up with blankets and snacks, talking and laughing as they reminisced the year that was.  There had even been a sweet little slow dance, to a song playing on Jake’s phone as it stayed nestled in his pocket - and it would have been totally romantic, if it hadn’t been interrupted by some dude yarfing onto the street below.   Still, the feeling of holding his wife in his arms, while their baby stayed nestled in-between them, was something that Jake will hold onto forever.  

The breeze has grown colder now, the wind rustling through Jake’s hair as he waits for Amy to return from her seventeenth trip to the bathroom (sadly, not an exaggeration), and as he reaches into the storage box for another blanket for his wife, Jake finds himself looking back on the last few months with a smile.  Even now, there’s a tiny piece of his mind that is still incredulous that she is pregnant - that the two of them are having a baby.  In just four short months, there will be a tiny human that is part Amy, part Jake and wholly them, and he’s never ever been more excited for the future.  

He can still recall the moment it had all changed for the better - when Amy had turned to him with the brightest smile he had ever seen, and nodded her head.  He’d sat beside her on the floor of their bathroom for longer than he’d realised, staring at the plastic stick with it’s stamped lettering and two thin red lines that told him that Amy was pregnant.  His eyes had kept darting from left to right, his brain frantically trying to reassure himself that he was, in fact, reading it all correctly.  That the love of his life was carrying his child, and the world as he knew it was never going to be the same again.  It just … hadn’t made any sense, how easily it had all changed.  Every part of his life involved filling out some sort of paperwork or prior approval or whatever - it was a reality that he merely tolerated, but Amy adored.  But, in the blink of an eye (and a round of admittedly great sex), Jake Peralta was going to be a father.    

Deciding to start trying had been one of the most uncomplicated decisions of his life, and one that he hasn’t reconsidered for a second (it had surprised him at first, how easily it came to him - but that’s the thing about finally being in a secure relationship.  Even the things that terrified him the most, suddenly didn’t seem so bad when he knew Amy would be by his side).  But it had stunned him, how in just one moment, seeing the word pregnant on a little piece of plastic had made him fall in love with something (or someone, really) that he hadn’t even met.  

He had known, in approximately 0.0003 seconds after seeing their daughter for the very first time on the ultrasound screen, that he wouldn’t ever do anything that could hurt her.  That he will fight for her safety and security, with every fibre of his being, until the very last day of his life.  This tiny little shadow on the screen, with it’s echoing heartbeat and what thankfully looked to be Amy’s nose, was now the single-most greatest thing that Jake had ever done: and nothing was ever going to change that.  These past few months have made Jake understand his father even less, and appreciate Amy all the more, if for nothing else than the fact that she’d given Jake a second chance to show just how capable - and deserving - of love he can be.  

Hearing a soft grunt to his left, Jake turns his head in time to see Amy wriggling through the window frame, the swell of her belly turning what used to be an easy move into something that requires a little more finesse.  There’s a soft metallic thud that reverberates towards the empty streets below as both of her slipper covered feet hit the gridded surface, and she grins in triumph before making her way over to Jake.  

“Starting to get over this whole ‘needing to pee every half hour’ thing that I’ve got going on.”

Grinning, Jake leans against the balustrade of their makeshift balcony, ignoring the gentle dig of the metal against his skin.  “I mean, you know my feelings about water, hun.”

Raising an eyebrow, Amy shakes her head in response.  “Hate to tell you this, but all I’ve been drinking today is orange soda - and we both know that’s your genes at play here, Peralta.”  Amy winks at Jake’s responsive wince, cupping his chin in her hand as she pulls him closer for a quick kiss.  “It’s a good thing that I love you, huh?”

“Oh, it’s a very good thing, Ames.”  The best thing ever, actually, that she loves him.  She tells him a lot - even more so since falling pregnant, a side effect that has been hated by absolutely no-one - and every time feels better than the last.  

A car passes them below, the loud music pumping from the speakers and filtering it’s way up to the two of them, and Amy looks down at her sweats, turning to give Jake an apprehensive look.  “What a wild New Year’s Eve we’ve ended up having.  Maybe we should have gone to Terry’s party after all?  I mean, it is the last child free one we’re going to have for a long time.”

Slinging an arm around Amy’s shoulders, Jake pulls her closer to him, smiling as her hand wraps around his waist in a move that is absolutely second nature.  “No way, Ames.  I’ve got my two best girls here with me, and in five minutes I’m going to have the greatest seats in New York as that building over there lets off fireworks from their roof.  Terry’s party can suck it.”  

Right now, a bunch of fugitives could climb out from the sewer clutching diamonds from the biggest jeweller in town, and he wouldn’t move.  Bruce Willis himself could knock on the door, and Jake would tell him that he needed to come back tomorrow (please, please, please - come back tomorrow).  

This was his home - he’d built a world between these four walls, with the love of his life - the only one to run a hand over his scars, both physical and mental, and still call him beautiful.  His partner, in every way imaginable, and easily the greatest person he’s ever known.  And just when he didn’t think she could be any more magic, she’d begun carrying their child, and now he is absolutely certain that Amy is completely made of stardust.  

Even when her hormones are out of control, and she’s yelling at him for not mixing enough pickles into her ice cream.

There was nowhere he’d rather be, and nobody he’d rather be with.  Literally everything he needed, for the rest of his life, was right here in his arms.  

(Okay yes, technically he would eventually need orange soda and gummy worms and maybe some water if Amy insisted.  But there was a healthy stock of all that in their kitchen, and by ‘right here’ he obviously means their apartment.)

Amy hums - this sweet little hmmming sound that Jake knows to mean contentment ever since he heard it on their first night together, a sound that he’s heard a million times since then and just never, ever fails to transcend him - and she leans a little more of her body weight against him, blinking slowly as fatigue begins to set in.  There were countless books and testimonials that told them to get as much sleep as they could, because once the baby came sleep would become a long-lost memory, and Jake could tell that Amy was secretly dying to curl up into bed.  Baby-growing, it would seem, was a highly exhaustive task - and in all honesty the idea of curling up underneath the blanket with her for the rest of the evening sounded kind of amazing.   

Jake’s just about to suggest a retreat to their bedroom when he hears the first whoosh of a firework streaking through the sky, the subsequent explosion of light piercing his eyes as tiny blue stars litter their previously dark canvas.  Either the revellers had decided to celebrate early, or his watch was slow (entirely possible, he’d bought it for three whole dollars at their local bodega) - whatever the reason, Jake cannot help the smile that stretches across his face as more colours begin to light the sky.  

Now completely awake, Amy moves closer still to Jake, standing in front of him and gripping his forearms in her hands when they wrap around her clavicle.  From behind Jake can hear her tiny gasps as each bang and pop takes place, and after a minute he cries out in surprise, moving quickly to place his hands on either side of Amy’s pregnant belly in a protective stance.

Shifting her head to the side, Amy looks at Jake in confusion, pointing downwards.  “What’s with the sudden coverage, babe?”

Eyes wide and earnest, Jake nods in the direction of his hands, explaining - “I’ve got to protect the baby’s ears, Ames!  These fireworks are loud - and what if she’s asleep right now?  She’s part Peralta, and you and I both know Peraltas are NOT a fan of being woken up.”

Amy laughs, her nose crinkling up in that completely adorable way that Jake absolutely loves, shaking her head as her fingers link with his on either side of her bump.  “Our baby is totally fine in there, Jake.  But I love you so much for thinking of her right now.”  There’s a slight shift underneath Jake’s hands, and he can’t be sure if it’s a kick of just a general nudge from their daughter, but either way he takes it as a sign that their little one agrees with Amy’s statement.  Nodding; he smiles at Amy, suddenly feeling a little foolish - but perhaps, he’s just foolishly in love.  Above them, the fireworks continue to explode, only now they don’t seem so loud.

Moving one hand away from his, Amy cups the back of Jake’s neck, gently pulling him downwards for a soft kiss.  “Only five months in, and you’re already the greatest dad ever,” she whispers against his lips, pressing against them with her own once more.  He’s blushing by the time she pulls away, he can feel it in the sudden tingle of his cheeks, but all he can think about is the title greatest dad ever, and how much he can’t wait until those very words are emblazoned on a mug or some other kind of gift their child decides to buy him.  He wants it on hats, and shirts, on socks and a keyring and everywhere in between - because when it came to Jake and fatherhood, there was not a chance in hell that history was going to end up repeating.        

“Hey,” came Amy’s soft voice, pulling Jake out of his thoughts as her fingers return to the back of his neck and toy with the curls that live along the bottom of his hairline.  Briefly, he remembers that he meant to get his hair cut two weeks ago.  “You okay, babe?”

Taking a deep breath, Jake smiles and nods, waiting until Amy has turned to face him completely before tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.  “Happy New Year, Ames.  I know I’ve said this before, but this year is going to be totally amazing.”

Amy nods back, giggling as Jake swoops in for a kiss.  “I’m going to remember this moment when we’re elbow deep in dirty diapers and our eyelids are being held up by toothpicks.”

Joining in on Amy’s laughter, Jake shrugs his shoulders in defeat.  “This is probably going to sound insane, and I’m definitely going to deny I ever said this when we’re in that situation; but even that sounds a little bit awesome, because it’ll mean that she’s here and we can hold her and talk to her and just love her for reals.”

“Totally insane, and I completely agree.”

It’s less than an hour later that both Jake and Amy are tucked into bed, the sound of Amy’s gentle snores lulling Jake to sleep as 2020 begins to stretch her limbs.  Their apartment is quiet, but filled to the brim with love - right down to the printed sonogram, sharing the space of a heart-shaped magnet with a photo of a young couple falling for each other - and there is a small room adjacent to the kitchen that is almost ready for it’s tiny occupant to arrive.  

As his eyelids grow heavy, Jake thinks back to all the years he and Amy had spent together, and how many times they’ve had to push back against all the things that have tried to keep them apart.  He knows now that it was worth it - all of it was worth it - because truly, the best was yet to come.  

#myfic #so pumped we have the option to write pregnancy/baby related fics now! #the options! #mine #b99 fanfic #peraltiago fanfiction #jake x amy fic #b99 fanfiction #b99 2020 vision challenge