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poetskings · 11 days

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@jegulus-microfic | April 18: sock | 1.6k

James is sexiled and decides to spend time with Regulus.

There’s a sock on the door knob.

It’s been a long day and James is tired and there’s a fucking sock on the door knob and if he listens close enough he can hear soft grunts.

He’s happy for Sirius and Remus, really, he is, he just wishes that they’d fuck at Remus’ every now and then, and at least keep it to the bedroom.

Sirius and James share a college flat with Peter, Marlene and Lily, so there aren’t many options when they’re all out. Today, James knows that Peter and Lily have chess club, and Marlene’s training for the women’s boat race, so it’s only him who’d be around.

He sighs and turns around, sending Regulus a text as he goes.

Been sexiled – your dorm free?

He’s walking before he’s received a response – he’s almost positive that the answer will be ‘yes’, and he hasn’t seen Regulus in a week, so they’re long overdue a catch up.

Their friendship was one of the more unexpected things to come out of Regulus bucking centuries of Black tradition and instead following in his brother’s footsteps, choosing Cambridge over Oxford. He settled in nicely to Corpus Christi, flying through his first few years as a history undergraduate while Sirius and James chose Trinity instead.

It took a while but slowly and tentatively Sirius and Regulus attempted to heal their relationship, strained by Regulus’ years at Harrow after Sirius packed up and left when he was sixteen, dropping out and enrolling at a local state school instead. They’re much better now; their barbs at each other aren’t quite as jagged. There’s love there, now, rather than just animosity.

As Regulus and Sirius attempted to mend their relationship, James and Remus had been called in early on to mediate, or sometimes it was Regulus’ friends, Evan and Barty, or even Pandora. From those early tentative meetings in neutral territory, new and interesting friendships bloomed, most of all between Regulus and James.

From early study sessions, it evolved into coffee dates and library outings, and when Remus and Sirius sorted their shit out it became even more frequent – the pair never make James feel like a third wheel, but nonetheless they deserve time to themselves, even if James would prefer for them not to fuck on every and any available surface in their dorm.

Regulus is a comforting presence for James; he doesn’t demand anything of him. James is naturally an extrovert; always the centre of a room, but sometimes he needs to recharge, and Regulus lets him do that. He reminds James of calm waters on a spring day, and whenever James needs to quiet his mind, he finds the youngest Black. He only hopes he offers Regulus some of the same comfort in return.

That, and maybe something more. Maybe he hopes that one day there’s a sock on his door knob, and that the reason is Regulus..

James is drawn out of his thoughts as his phone dings.

Sure – text me when you’re here, will come meet you

It’s a five-minute walk but James makes it there in two, calling Regulus to get him to buzz him in. He’s a familiar figure amongst the second years at Corpus, and he’s pretty sure a few of them will have also texted the youngest Black to alert him to James’ presence.

The college door opens and Regulus emerges, dressed in sweatpants and a Trinity rowing sweatshirt that James left last time he was over. He’s so lovely, James thinks, an impulse he doesn’t know how to control; isn’t sure he wants to control it.

“Sexiled, huh?” Regulus holds the door open as James steps through, falling into step with each other and walking up a flight of stairs to reach Regulus’ dorm. It’s empty, although that isn’t uncommon for Regulus. Barty and Evan hold unsociable hours, and Regulus, Pandora and Dorcas have a frankly insane amount of extracurriculars to attend, so they’re rarely together.

“There was a sock on the front door and I’m pretty sure I could hear noises so I didn’t want to risk it,” James says, settling himself in the kitchen, finding Regulus’ mug and a new one with a deer in glasses; a ‘congratulations’ for James’ performance in the inter-college boat races that’s become a permanent fixture in Regulus’ dorm.

He locates the teabags; Yorkshire for James, organic for Regulus, before turning back to the mugs.

“I don’t blame you – those two seem to spend more time fucking than not – it’s a minor miracle they get any work done,” Regulus chuckles, gently bumping James’ hip to get to the fridge, taking out his oat milk and James’ rice milk.

They settle into the routine like it’s second nature; they’re familiar with each other in a way that’s almost intimate. They stand together waiting for the kettle to boil, perhaps a bit too close for it to be entirely platonic, but James isn’t going to move away if Regulus doesn’t.

He always feels like they’re teetering on the edge of something more than what they are, something better, but for all of James’ bravery, he isn’t sure how to make the next move, and he doesn’t want to wreck this peace that Regulus and his brother have been working so hard on.

“So, how was your day?” Regulus asks, tilting his head to better look at James. He looks unbelievably soft in James’ jumper and James thinks that if he just moves his pinkie he can link it with Regulus’.

“Exhausting. I had rowing first thing and a few readings to do for my supervision that I’d completely missed,” James sighs. He loves his degree but he’s never been as organised as Regulus, who seems to have work done almost before it’s set. “Also, I spent a solid ten minutes looking for that jumper.”

A light blush creeps up Regulus’ cheeks at that. “Sorry, you left it here after practice last week so I washed it but completely forgot to text you.”

A smile falls across James’ face. “You’re fine, Reg, and besides, it suits you. I guess I should get myself a Corpus one to match, huh?” He smirks as the red of Regulus’ cheeks becomes more pronounced.

The kettle whistles and Regulus turns away from James to fill their cups. “James Potter, behave yourself.” He hip checks James again, this time with a bit more force. Except he doesn’t move back. He stays there, leaning against James, and James feels like his entire body’s a livewire.

The tightrope they’re walking is getting more taut, and James finds himself eager for the fall.

“But Regulus, dearest, where’s the fun in that?” He leans forward, entirely too close for it to be platonic, and Regulus is turning, turning-

“Ow! Fuck!” James forgot about the fact that Regulus was holding a kettle of boiling water, and he’s paying for that now. Water splashes over the counter as Regulus rushes to put the kettle down, taking James’ hand and leading him over to the tap.

He turns the cold water tap on, letting it flow over their entwined hands. He is too still, too silent, and James wants to go back to where they were. He wants the tightrope back. He wants to fall.

He can be brave, he thinks, if it means he gets to have something with Regulus.

Regulus is staring intently at their entwined hands, like it’s the most fascinating thing in the universe, and James breaks the silence.

“Reg-”

“What are we doing, James? We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for weeks and it’s driving me insane and I want to be around you all the time and I think I’m already half in love with you so I’d love if you can clear up what this is,” he states, false bravado injected into his tone, but James can hear the tremors. He’s so nervous, but so brave. Regulus Black, the Lion Heart.

It takes a while for the words to register in James’ head.

Oh.

James removes his hand from the running water, ignoring the slight sting and the inevitable burn that will be left. He cups Regulus’ cheek, forcing the younger boy to look at him. Regulus is terrified, but so hopeful.

“Reg, I- I want-” James runs his hand through his hair in frustration. He can’t get his words out.

“Jamie?” Regulus’ voice is so soft, as though he’s worried he’ll scare James off, and the only thing James can do is kiss him.

Regulus’ lips are rough, a bit chapped from where he nibbles on them when he’s nervous. He tastes of tea and cinnamon and James wants to devour him. There is nothing soft about it. James’ tongue darts out, soothing Regulus’ lips, and the younger boy lets out a moan that’s pure filth and ecstasy and James is falling, falling, fallen.

He wants to do this forever.

His hands find their way to Regulus’ waist, tracing the skin underneath the Trinity sweater that’s been driving James insane since he first saw Regulus wearing it. It’s his, it’s him.

They break apart to breathe and James attaches his lips to Regulus’ neck, marking, claiming. He can’t think beyond this moment, beyond the boy in front of him.

“Jamie, we should- we need to-” he cuts himself off, broken sighs escaping his lips as he tangles his hands in James’ hair.

James reluctantly removes himself from Regulus’ neck, taking the boy’s face in his hands. “Do you want this, Reg? Do you want me?”

Regulus’ eyes trace James’ face, and whatever he sees softens him.

“Always, Jamie.” And James is lost.

They’ll talk about it later, as the sunlight paints the walls of Regulus’ room, but this is enough for now. For ever.

And if Barty finds a sock on the door knob when he comes back from the library, well, that’s between him and Regulus.

#jegulus #regulus black #James potter #starchaser #marauders #marauders era #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #dead gay wizards #si writes #will I ever figure out how to write a microfic that's actually micro? doubtful.

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katakaluptastrophy · 1 month

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You know when you're at a dinner party with God and things start to get...weird...? It's Maundy Thursday, and it's time for more Bible study for fans of weird queer necromancers!

It's currently Holy Week, the week where liturgical Christians reenact the events of Jesus' death and resurrection in real time. And today, it's Maundy Thursday, which commemorates the Last Supper, where Jesus ate with his friends before he was crucified.

Before we get to the Locked Tomb, what's so special about the Last Supper?

There are actually a few significant things that happen during the Last Supper, but this is where Jesus introduces the concept of communion:

Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood. - Matthew 26:26-28

This isn't actually the first time Jesus has told his followers they will need to literally eat him:

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. - John 6:53-56

If you're thinking that sounds a bit intense, you're not alone - the Bible says that "many" of his disciples left after being told that they were apparently going to have to eat Jesus to be saved and resurrected.

While many Protestant denominations take this symbolically, Catholicism teaches transubstantiation: that when the priest prays over the bread and wine at mass, they really do become Jesus' body and blood.

With this in mind, let's circle back to necromancers:

"Overseas to Corpus. (She likes the word corpus; it sounds nice and fat.)"

This is probably Corpus Christi College, Oxford (named after the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, where the church celebrates the real presence of Jesus in the eucharist). The symbol of the college is a pelican - there's even a fabulously gilded pelican atop the sundial in their main quad.

What do pelicans have to do with the eucharist? Quite a lot, actually... The pelican is a really old symbol for Jesus, because it was believed to feed its young on its own flesh and blood in times of famine. The pelican on the Corpus Christi sundial is pecking at its own chest.

The pelican, like Jesus, was believed to give its own body to save those it loved.

Okay, so we've talked about Jesus, and weird cannibal birds, but why is this relevant to necromancers?

Specifically, the necromancer, the Necrolord Prime. John Gaius styles himself as "the god who became man", echoing Jesus as "the word became flesh". His entire pastiche of divinity is a sort of bootleg Catholicism. But while Catholicism posits Jesus' offering of his own body as foundational to the salvation and resurrection of humanity to eternal life, John's godhood relies the exploitation of other's bodies as the foundation of an empire of eternal death.

I've mentioned before in discussing Lyctorhood, how vampires have been understood to represent a sort of inversion of the eucharist because instead of consuming Christ's blood to receive eternal life in heaven, they consume other people's blood for an cursed eternal life on earth. John, and the Lyctors who followed him, gained power and eternal life from the consumption, body and soul, of another person.

In Catholic theology, Jesus offered his own body to degradation and death for the eternal salvation of humankind, but John forcibly consumes someone else's in service of his own apotheosis and immortality, dooming humanity in the process. He wants to be a Catholic flavoured god, but without the suffering that entails. But he's perfectly willing to outsource that suffering to others.

There's something just achingly awful about Alecto liking the feel of the word "corpus" - "body" - when she so hates the body that John constructed for her. John describing Alecto as "in a very real way" the mother of humanity and the mother pelican on the Corpus sundial rending her own flesh for her children. John forcing the earth into a personification of femininity and playing Jesus on another's sacrifice. His daughter, unwillingly trapped in her own corpse walking around with the wounds of her significant self-sacrifice like the resurrected Christ but yet again another body exploited by John in support of his performance of godhood. It brings to mind a very different fantastical engagement with Catholicism, where in the Lord of the Rings Tolkien - riffing on St Augustine - suggested that evil cannot create, it can only mock and corrupt. The ethics of The Locked Tomb may be messier than that, but there's something indicative in how John shies away from his creative powers - his abilities to grow plants, and manipulate earth and water - in favour of his dominion over death.

The metaphysical world of The Locked Tomb is clearly not intended to be the same as that of Catholicism. But with hindsight, perhaps John was onto something when he was surprised that he didn't "get the Antichrist bit" from the nun too.

John isn't the Antichrist. But he is, thematically, anti-Christ.

If we're talking about John and Jesus, there's also, of course, the question of Resurrection. But we've got to go through Hell and back before we get there on Sunday...

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #john gaius #alecto the first

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mioritic · 5 months

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St. Edmund, decapitated, cries ("hic, hic, hic") in the margins of a 12th century Bible

MS 002III (The Bury Bible), f. 322r

Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, via red_loeb

#st. edmund #medieval #marginalia #medieval art

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taylor-on-your-dash · 3 months

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SO, WHO IS THE SONG MINE ABOUT?

A couple of years ago I read this comment on r/Taylor Swift about Taylor dating a non famous guy who attended Belmont University.

I started college in Nashville in 2010, and the semester before I started, it was well known that Taylor was seeing a guy who lived on campus. It never made headlines because he wasn’t a celebrity like her other relationships. I have seen lots of random explanations for “Mine,” but many students at the university always assumed it was about this guy because the timeline fit.

At the time, I didn't think much of it. I thought that it could've been possible but still, the theory of Mine being about Cory Monteith made more sense to me.

While I was writing the Speak Now Timeline, one of the most important interviews was the Billboard one:

"Mine" was a turning point in the album’s development. It wasn’t until early 2010 when the album truly began to coalesce. Swift presented "Mine" to Borchetta in his office, just a few doors down the hall from the leather couch in the lobby. "We probably played that song four or five times," Borchetta recalls. "I’m jumping around playing air guitar, she’s singing the song back to me, and it was just one of those crazy, fun, Taylor teen-age moments." And then it got serious. "I said, ‘Keep going,’ " Borchetta says. "She kind of looked at me like, ‘You’re challenging me.’ And I said, ‘Yeah. You’ve found true north here. Keep going.’ " It was some time in the period after that challenge — between February and June — that Swift wrote “Innocent,” her response to the Kanye West incident.

That settled it then, no? Mine was written in late February, after Taylor had returned from Tokyo.

My certainties crumbled a few weeks ago, when @1989worldtour sent me an interview where Taylor says that she wrote Mine on the road, specifically in Texas.

Back To December was written in New York City, The Story Of Us was in Nashville, I wrote Mine somewhere on the road, I think in Texas, actually. (X)

Taylor was in Texas on March 10th (in Austin), March 11th (Dallas), and March 12th (Corpus Christi) for the Fearless Tour. At first, this didn't make any sense to me: Taylor had said that she wrote Mine in February! Then again, she often misremembers dates. I had shelved this date in my mind until I randomly found this comment on r/Fauxmoi while I was researching Starlight and the Kennedy craze Taylor went through.

She dated a guy from Belmont I think because a family friend went there and was friends with him and was there the night they met! “By the water” in Mine is apparently about Mozarts - a coffee shop in Austin on the water where they went on a date. I have no way to verify this because it didn’t happen to me but the family friend had pics with Taylor and stuff because of this guy she was friends with who dated Taylor. This might be the only piece of celeb gossip I’ve ever known haha.

Reply: This is true! He's now married with kids and not at all famous.

The return of the Belmont guy! We have two other sources claiming that she dated a non-famous person who attended Belmont. The mention of Texas cemented the fact that there might be a kernel of truth in this theory. At this point, I took this rumor seriously and chose to investigate further. the next question was, if Belmont is in Nashville and the Mozart bar is in Texas, didn't the guy miss a lot of classes? The answer is... no. If you look at the Belmont Academic Calendar, guess when Spring Break was? From March 8th to March 15th! So even if the guy was in college, he didn't miss any classes. There's was plenty of time for him to fly to Texas, attend the show, going on a date at the Mozart bar and then fly back to Nashville.

There's another problem though: according to the Billboard interview, Taylor brought Mine to Scott Borchetta in late February. We don't actually have a direct quote from Taylor or Borchetta saying that it was February. It could be Taylor or Scott misremembering, It could be the journalist inferring (it has happened before, for example on this Rolling Stone article from 2009, where the author said that Love Story and White Horse were for the same person, for some weird reason). After all, late February and early March aren't that far away. Nathan Chapman, the producer of the song, said that they worked on Mine on and off for 4 months. They finished it on July 21st, so March 10th still tracks.

Now, let's look at the actual bar. on the left, we have a screenshot from the Music Video, while on the right, a picture of the Mozart Bar. they look very similar to me, but I admit that I've never been to the USA, so maybe coffee shops all look the same?

Fun fact: The Mozart bar confirmed that she has been there in May 2013, after the Red Tour show.

Conclusions: Honestly, I believe those people on Reddit, but I realise that the sources are very unstable. What makes me believe it though, is the obscure mention of Mine being written in Texas, and the person on Reddit revealing that they had a date at a bar that casually is by the water. It fits perfectly. I don't have any more to say for now, but it's possible that I'll write a post of how Mine is one of the first post John Mayer song and how that relationship affected the themes of her songwriting.

P.S.: I would advise not contacting these people on Reddit. it's obvious that they're friends with him/know him and they wouldn't say anything to help identifying him. plus, it's not our place to gather information about a person that wants anonymity. it's not cool to doxx random people.

#also sorry if this post is a mess #i put it off for like a month because the amout of information was a lot and my brain defaulted to italian #taylor swift #mine #speak now #speak now taylor's version #writing of speak now timeline

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spicy-pears · 7 months

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I'm not sure if this is how it works. But I have a drabble request? About a girl who's car breaks down a mile or two from the slaughter family gas station. And while she walks along the road listening to music, johnny starts to stalk her. And similar to maria start liking her as he follows.

Please and thank you 🙏🏼😇

𝑶𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒈, 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒔.

𝓦𝓒:1.5𝓚

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕: 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒂𝒍.

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒚 𝑹𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂 𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒚 𝑨𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒈

𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒖𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕. 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚❣️ 𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒙𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒚.

(𝑰𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔, 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚.)

The wind caressed your hand as you let it hang out the car window. Your fingertips would surf the rushing breeze as the music brought your body to a joyful sway. "I'm in love, Sweet love. Don't you ever go away." With a loving smile, you serenaded your passenger. He sat so obediently in his seat, his black fur pushed around with the wind. At the same time, your nails gave him gentle head scratches.

You decided to take the solo drive back to Georgia. Preferring the peace of being alone with your calm pooch. Rather than being in a cramped car with bickering family members. Maybe you should have stuck with your family. You began to admit this mistake of yours. One wrong turn sent you cruising down the vast and long road through the countryside of Texas. This small town was so insignificant its name had the smallest text on the map. “The town of Newt” the fields of corn, sunflowers, and wheat was a sanguine sight. It filled you with the unrivaled serenity that bustling city life couldn’t provide.

Although the free vast countryside brought a timeless opportunity to enjoy nature. The small town seemed to be paused in time, the sparse buildings along the road. All seemed to be built back in the ’50s and ’60s. And hasn’t received any care or renovation since. Wood on barns began to run ragged with make-shift patch-up jobs with metal sheets. The singular diner in the area weathered through pouring rain, showing it through the copper rust stains that ran along its sign and roof.

Oddly enough, the only pit stop around kept updated gas pumps. You were almost tempted to stop and look inside the antique 60s-styled gas station. But a man working there peered into your eyes as you slowly drove by. A look you confused as unfriendliness towards tourists, a look you only needed to see once. Promptly, you turned away from the scar-covered, dark-haired man and continued on your way.

You didn’t fret much about the detour; you’ve been in similar situations. And each one proved to be a nostalgic time that fueled your fire for adventure. “You having fun, boy?” Your glance turned to your perfect passenger. His body curled into a bored ball of fluff, the sorry state making your lips twist into a concerned smirk. “Alright, we’ll be out of this town soon. Ten more miles, and we’ll be in Austin and back on track.” You began petting his coat in an attempt to comfort him.

Another mile deep into Newt, the local radio tower would interfere with your radio. Cutting off your soothing music, and began broadcasting an eerie news story, "The search continues for a missing San Antonio native. A female college student, who was reported to be taking a trip to Corpus Christi, Texas. She's described as-". Suddenly, the radio began to conflict again, bellowing a loud blaring static. The interference would cause your car to stall, leaving your car at a sudden halt.

"Okay...time to get out of the countryside." The frightening experience made your heart beat fast. Leaving a throbbing feeling running down your veins. With your eyes shut tight, you calmed your nerves and kept your composure. Armed with the knowledge of how to fix your car easily, as this wasn't the first time. With a gentle sigh, you turned to your beloved dog, "Should I walk you first?". Excitement overtook the large pooch as his wagging tail gave the car a light shake.

You’d open his door with a loving laugh, setting him free. While you grabbed your headphones and cassette player. The cassette your mother gave you caught your eye as she painted little white daisies and wrote “y/n playlist.” You would pop the loving gift into your cassette player and began walking, treasuring the one-of-a-kind tranquility. While you dove deep into your own little world, you felt an unwanted tap on your shoulder. Forcing you to whip around, your expression confused and defensive.

“Excuse me, miss. I saw your car broke down back there. And I wouldn’t feel right leaving a pretty thing like you out here on your lonesome. Would you like to hitch a ride?” You instantly became suspicious of his niceties.

But politely, you smiled and shook your head to reaffirm your words: “No, I'm fine. I'm just walking my dog. Thank you though.”. You watched his face skew with confusion and scorn. The latter left you feeling awkward, as your words shouldn’t have caused such strong emotions. Regardless, you would awkwardly wave the strange man goodbye and went about your stroll.

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚'𝒔 𝑷𝑶𝑽

Johnny was forced to stay in Newt. After his recent failure, a failure that gained the public a vivid description of his appearance. He preferred leaving home, as it left him a wider range of prey. But the report about him proved damaging to his hunting style, as any woman would now be privy to his nature. Unfortunately for him, being stuck in newt meant one kill every other month.

To not attract more attention to himself and keep trouble off the family's doorstep. Johnny resented the tight leash he was on; the restrictions felt like an insult. He carries his weight and more for the family, bringing home clueless girls and keeping the cold room well stocked. One minor failure with a few college girls shouldn’t gain such strict conditions.

Nonetheless, he was sometimes blessed with a rare treat. Women who couldn’t bother to learn how to change a tire taking long cross-country trips. And most of the time, they run out of gas or break down near one of the properties. Giving him the thrill he thirsted for. Sometimes, he would play nice, posing as a helpful hand that would repair their car. Only to offer them shade from the heat inside the gas station, like lambs to slaughter. This time, he would stubbornly and selfishly try something new. His failures gave him a new trick that sissy patiently crafted for him.

He saw you pass by the pitstop and instantly homed in on you. He found himself becoming "fond" of you. Instead of quickly subduing you, he followed you through the field. Until he realized he wasn’t the only hunter out today, the strange man you blew off would go back into the field. With similar intentions as Johnny, he wanted to catch you. What he wanted to do with you was unknown.

Johnny was no gentleman. He only cared for things that benefited him. And being the only hunter would benefit him greatly. He wanted to be the one to have you as he pulled out his harvesting blade; he committed to that conviction. He supposed he’d “save” you in the process.

The precious Texas oak trees swayed with the wind, almost on beat with the song playing. Your eyes closed, taking in the warm sunlight against your eyelids, singing with the serene feeling coursing through your body. “Strumming my pain with his fingers-“You came to a halt as you heard a burst of sinister laughter drowning out your music.

Your dog stood still, growling at the field of sunflowers, as you cautiously took off your headset. Your little world crumbled against the hauntingly quiet reality. No other sounds of life existed for a moment, not even the wind. Only the long, low chirp from the Texan cicadas which brought you unease.

"Careless city girl, I had to kill that man to save your hide!" Suddenly, you felt a strong arm wrap around your tiny waist from behind. While his free hand firmly pressed a chemical-soaked cloth against your mouth and nose. The potent vapor reminded you of cleaning products, how it made your eyes burn and water desperately.

Through your burning tears, you looked up at the now bloodied man you previously saw at the pit stop. Viciously, you would reach for the man's wicked face, digging your nails into the sensitive tissue of his ears. His pained wince eased into a demonic hiss. Your hopeless clawing proved fruitless, as the acidic smell made you grow weak. The hold on your face grew rougher, "Now quit your fightin'!".

Your gaze was laced with exhaustion as your chest heaved lightly through the snug tank top that hugged the plushness of your chest. A final plea for release, you drifted your hand down his face. Only for him to keep smirking at you with an impatient glare. Latter of which made you feel like a tiny toddler fighting sleep. Ultimately, your body grew limp as you finally fell unconscious. "Good girl, pretty as a peach even.” Johnny would throw you over his shoulder, carrying his catch home. He would turn to your dog, patting his thigh, a subtle command for the dog to follow.

“Come on, big boy. Let's take ya’ll home."

~𝓕𝓘𝓝~

"Killing me softly with his song"

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x oc #johnny sawyer #tcm johnny #tcm game #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game

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delicatuscii-wasbella102 · 2 months

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Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, UK

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liesmyth · 1 year

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btw since we’re talking about John Gaius + his melodramatic ass tendencies to quote Shakespeare and act like he’s living out the plot of The Eumenides, I would also like to shed light on a little-know bit of melodrama from the galaxy’s worst babygirl

This passage he quotes in HtN is the incipit of Psalm 27, but also the motto of the University of Oxford, where John likely did a research fellowship. There’s a Corpus [Christi College] in Cambridge as well, but Taz lives in Oxford and I think it was intentional; I’m going to go ahead and call out EJG for renaming the sun after a slogan that reminded him of his academia days and probably made him feel extra intellectual.

Yet another reference that nobody else in the galaxy will ever understand because he made damn sure that was the case. Highbrow quotes and none pizza left beef memes, who else’s doing it like him!

#can you believe he preserved the currently DEAD language of latin just so he could speak it & impress absolutely no one #THE absolute worst babygirl but also the funniest #ejg #I want to point and laugh at him for this but also. as usual.#I am confronted with the terrible reality that if I became god I too would be this self-referential and obsessed with my own lore #the locked tomb #tlt

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athleticperfection1 · 6 months

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Texas A&M-Corpus Christi Softball

#Texas A&M-Corpus Christi #TAMUCC #TAMUCC Islanders #college softball #softball girls #athlete #female athletes #college athlete #college girl #bikini #athletes in bikinis

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pokemonwearingsportsmerch · 12 days

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#scizor #Corpus Christi Islanders #college sports

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musings-of-a-rose · 1 year

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Jump Then Fall - Part 1

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc “Vanessa Morales”

Word Count: 5300+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Please be aware there is an 11 year age gap. Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while now and finally decided to put it down. From the beginning, this story always felt like it needed an original character and so it does! When the story starts, Vanessa is 19 and Javier is 30.

**Shoutout to @vanemando15 for listening and bouncing ideas from me, and for her guidance with being a Latina herself. Without her, this wouldn’t even be a thing, just another line on my WIP spreadsheet. And also to my husband, who is also Latino and answered any questions I had (along with taking me to Colombia back in 2014). And to @wyn-n-tonic, who listened to my rambles and insecurities about writing an oc in first person.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

Jump Then Fall Masterlist

General Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

1988

"Welcome back to the United States."

I thank the border agent as he hands me back my passport, tapping the brim of his hat as he steps back and waves me through.

Coming back to the States after spending the summer in a small village in rural Nuevo León, teaching kids English and helping to build both a school house and a church there was surreal. The village had been quite remote, having a well for water and simple huts for shelter. I had gone for a new type of program through my very Catholic, private university, one that would put missionaries and new teachers in the same places, so the people could learn English while having new facilities built for them.

My parents were hesitant at first. I am only 19, one of the youngest in the teacher program. But several of the missionaries were a few years younger than me and since we were all traveling together, my parents eventually caved and gave me permission to go, as it was obvious that God was calling me down this path.

The summer passed by quickly, my students eager to learn English and ask me questions about life outside of their small village. When it came time to leave, the missionaries were all called away to another village, while my university called me back. They wanted to know how the program was and to have me speak to several administrators from the university and others, as well as other members of the Diocese not directly involved in our university, as they were interested in expanding the program should it prove successful.

Which is what lead me, a young, 19 year old woman, to drive by myself, back across the border to the US. Probably not the smartest idea, but the idea thrilled me as I have never really been allowed to go places on my own. Or even make most of my own decisions.

My parents were pretty strict, always needing to know where I was and mostly keeping me home. It was hard to make friends, even within the church, and the few I did have, my parents had arranged. Corpus Christi wasn’t the biggest city but it wasn’t the smallest either and my parents kept a tight grip on me, especially when I hit puberty. I wasn’t allowed to cut or color my hair the way I wanted to, or pick my own clothes. If I ever came home with nailpolish on, I’d be scrubbing it off and reciting bible passages for a month at least.

Even when I started college, my parents kept their hands on me, demanding I go to the Catholic college close to home so I could continue to live there until I found a husband and got married. One they approved of, of course. I know they were just trying to keep me safe, but sometimes it would overpower me and I’d feel like I was suffocating, unable to make any choice or have control of my life.

Which is why I’m here, driving across the border and stopping in Laredo, Texas for the night. I pull into the first hotel I see that I think I can afford, the “Vacancy” sign lit up outside. Lucky for me, they do have a room I can afford and I pay the clerk, taking my key with the enormous keychain and heading off to find my room. This is the first time I’ll have ever slept somewhere by myself. Even in the village we had dorm style rooms and I shared with a few different girls.

The room is quiet. Turning on the tv helps but soon I’m overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices - 13 channels is way too much. When the box clicks off, my stomach growls and I realize it had been hours since I’d eaten, possibly since breakfast. I pick up the phone and call the front desk to ask about food. They tell me the closest place is 2 blocks down, a bar called Pit Stop. Everything else would require a cab or is closed and yes, they’ll let me in under 21. I just can’t order alcohol.

I’ve never been in a bar before, but my growling stomach demands I get food. I pull on my sweater and head out, deciding to walk to the bar since it’s so close. I can hear it before I see it, bass thumping as I round the corner and see this square shape of a building, neon letters glowing in the night sky like lighthouse beacons. It’s pretty busy, cars lining the parking lot and people walking and milling about outside. I take a deep breath and pull my sweater a little tighter around me, my empty stomach urging me forward.

Inside was chaos. At least it was to me. The jukebox was blaring some country song that people were dancing to all in a line. People were packed in at the tables, chatting loudly and flirting, drinks coursing through people’s veins. Most weren’t completely drunk yet but many were well on their way. I spot a seat at the bar and slide into it, taking a look at the massive wall of liquor bottles behind it. I had no idea there were so many choices. I thought it was just beer, not beer, and sangria.

The bartender somehow spots me, giving me a once over before he asks what I’d like. When I request a menu, he laughs, saying they only have burgers and wings tonight. He takes my order for a burger and fries, assuring me the burgers “aren’t bad”, dashing any hope I had for a decent dinner. People come up to the bar, shoving around everyone to order and leave, drinks in hand as they turn back to their group. The seat next to me opens up and is immediately occupied by some drunk man who tries to hit on me. When I don’t respond, he calls me a slew of bad names, his face getting dangerously closer to mine and for the first time I realize that this may have been a bad idea, no matter how exciting the thought of it had been.

“Looks like you’ve had too much to drink, friend.”

A man claps the drunk man on the shoulder and he turns to look at him, his eyes unfocused for several long seconds.

“I–h-have?”

He nods. “Why don’t you go sober up? You may have a better shot if you can string 2 words together.”

The drunk man thinks about this for more time than is typically needed before nodding slowly. “Y-yeah. I’ll do that. Th-thankssss.”

He stands and the man helps him away, letting the crowd take the drunk man and shuffle him off to a corner where he promptly sits and falls asleep. The man turns back to me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry about him. He has a big bark but no bite.”

This man is..gorgeous. He’s taller than me, dark hair that curls slightly at the nape of his neck, a Burt Reynolds style mustache that somehow works for him, and the deepest, darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s wearing a leather jacket and some tight jeans, a white button up shirt with the top few buttons undone, exposing the tight muscles in his neck.

This man is trouble.

“May I sit?” He asks politely, gesturing to the now empty barstool next to me.

I should say no, tighten my sweater around my neck and take my burger back to my room. But something in me says make your own choices! Take back your life! and I find myself nodding, watching the man sit and and order another drink.

“What are you having?”

“Oh, I’m-” that voice comes back. You said this was your summer to try new things. He’s looking at me, eyebrows raised in anticipation of my answer.

“Surprise me.”

The man smiles and I almost fall off of my stool. It’s like the entire room lights up with it and I feel this intense urge to put another smile on his face, just to feel that warmth again. His eyes scan my body, chewing the inside of his cheek while he thinks. He turns to the bartender and order me a rum and coke, saying he’ll keep it simple for me.

“Why simple?”

He gestures to my clothes. “It doesn’t look like you get out much.”

I scoff. “Well that’s rather presumptuous to say.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Well….I mean, no. You’re not wrong. But I just came back from teaching English in Mexico for an entire summer while building a school and a church so excuse me if I don’t look the part.”

He holds his hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend! You just don’t look like…” he gestures around the room before turning back to me.

“I’m Javier, by the way. Javier Peña.”

“Vanessa Morales.”

He extends his large hand to me and I take it, the warmth immediately englufing my own and we let go of each other entirely too soon.

“So what’s a pretty, young, teacher doing in a place like this? Did you leave your group somewhere?”

I blush at his description of me, tucking my hair behind my ears. “Well, this was the best place to stop on my way back to Corpus Christi. And no group. Just me.”

Why did I tell him that? He could be a creep or worse. Not that I would mind a little worse.

His eyebrows raise. “You drove here from Mexico by yourself?”

I nod. “Probably not the best choice, but it’s my summer to try new things so…” I shrug, taking the drink the bartender had just set down in front of me and taking a small sip. I cough, choking on the strength of the alcohol burning my throat and to my horror, I see Javier holding back a chuckle.

“It has been a long summer then, I take it?”

I cough again, clearing my throat. “It was. I’m just not…used to rum.”

“Ok. Sure….so what do you do for fun, Vanessa?”

What do I do for fun?

“I uh…I go to Mexico and teach English-”

Javier shakes his head. “No, that’s your work. What do you do that’s entirely for you and not to help or please someone else?”

I have to think a lot longer that I probably should, which is pretty depressing.

“I…read?”

“Is that a question or your answer?”

“Both?”

“Let me guess…strict parents? Wouldn’t let you just be you?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“No, hermosa. But the sadness in your beautiful eyes, and the way you struggled to answer that question about yourself, told me.”

“Oh.” I look down at my hands, tracing little lines in the condensation on my glass. The song changes and Javier touches my hand lightly.

“I do not mean to make you sad. Come dance with me? You can’t be sad if you’re dancing.”

My cheeks flush red. “I’d love to but I..”

He leans in to my ear, speaking just for me. “It’s ok if you don’t know how. I will show you.”

And before I can talk myself out of it, I nod, letting Javier take my hand and pull me to the dance floor, his hands on my hips, pulling me close to him as he guides me on how to move, how to sway and dance to the music. I’m feeling a warmth between my legs, one that I think I’ve felt before but I can’t be sure. What I do know is I’d like to feel those hands elsewhere on my body.

“You catch on quickly, hermosa.” Javier whispers in my ear, sending goosebumps down my neck.

The song ends and I don’t want to stop, Javier guiding my body through several more songs before we have to stop, breathless from the dancing, Javier trying to stealthily adjust his pants as we make our way to the bar again. We get another drink and, this time, I’m nearly gulping it down in my haste to hydrate, Javier pulling the glass from my lips, cutting me off.

“You need water, hermosa. This shit won’t help you.”

We spend the next hour huddled together, knees touching and Javier’s hand on my upper thigh, gently squeezing my leg. If he can see the way my cheeks flush, the way I’m squirming in my seat as I start to feel a wet sensation between my legs, he doesn’t let on, his eyes solely focused on mine. Except when they dip down to my lips. I know he's just being nice, flirting with me to get what he wants, but I also know that I don't care.

I announce that I’d better get back to my room as I still have several hours of driving ahead of me. When he asks if he can walk me to my car, I tell him I walked from my hotel a couple blocks away.

“Oh no, hermosa. I can’t let you walk alone this late at night. Not around here. May I walk you back?”

“Oh. Really, you don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

Your summer of new things.

“OK….walk me back, please, Javier.”

We make it back to my room, chatting the entire way. He raises his arm, leaning his forearm against the doorframe and cocking his hip to the side, his other hand resting on his hip. He tells me he’s leaving the country for work tomorrow and I apologize for taking up so much of his time. He waves his hand, shaking his head.

“There is nowhere I’d rather be, hermosa.”

I blush, reaching into my purse to find the room key with the giant keychain on it. I fish it out and stare up at him, those brown eyes somehow darker with…something. Like a tension between us, pooling between my legs. Wait, is this..am I turned on?

His hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb swiping gently at my cheek as he leans in, stopping just half an inch from my face.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers. I nod furiously and he presses his lips to mine as my eyes close.

His lips are soft, gentle, his moustache tickling me slightly as his lips investigate mine, his tongue gently trying to push its way into my mouth. I open my mouth slightly and he takes advantage, his hand wrapping around the back of my head, holding me in place as his other hand grips my hip, pulling me flush against him, a hardness in his jeans poking at me. It takes me a moment to realize exactly what that hardness is and when I do, it sends more heat between my thighs. I drop the key in my haste to open the door, the loud clanging disrupting our heated kiss.

“S-sorry,” I mumble, kneeling to pick it up. I push the key in the lock and turn it, opening the door and walking inside. Only, Javier doesn’t follow me. I turn and look at him, hesitating in the doorway.

“Are you sure, hermosa? I don’t want to pressure you.”

Am I sure? The nerves in my body are going straight to my head, making me feel giddy at the prospect of having relations with a complete stranger. A complete hot stranger.

Your summer of new things.

“Y-yeah. Come in, Javier.”

He enters and closes the door behind him, sliding the bolt into place. He takes off his leather jacket and tosses it on the chair by my sweater, kicking his boots off as well. We both wait in silence for a moment, before Javier walks up to me, pulling my face to his as he resumes kissing me with a deep passion, as if I’m the only person he ever wants to kiss again. Once my shirt and pants are gone, I push back from him, crossing my arms over my body and sitting on the bed. He sits next to me, a worried look on his face.

“Hermosa? Did I do something wrong?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Talk to me. Please.”

I wait several long moments, gathering up my courage to tell him. “I…I don’t know what to do.”

“What to do?”

I gesture between us and Javier gets a look of comprehension on his face.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Yes? No? I’m not actually sure.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I…well I mean, when I was with my now ex boyfriend from chuch, we…messed around a little. And I think he put it in? But it was over in just a few seconds so I’m not entirely sure if he did or not. And he ran out so quickly after and we never spoke of it again so I’m not really sure what happened.”

Why am I talking so fast?

“Oh, hermosa. I figured you didn’t get out much but that…ok, here’s what we’re going to do. That time? Doesn’t count, ok? Push it from your mind. If you couldn’t even tell if he was in…no. What’s going to happen is, if you’ll let me, I’m going to take care of you, make you feel so good that you’ll forget all about church boy. How does that sound?”

Do I want this? Do I want my potential first or possibly second time to be with some random guy at a random bar that I’ll never see again? But the way he moves, the way he touches me and speaks to me, and the way my body responds to him tells me it would be fun. Like really fun. And no one is here to tell me otherwise.

Summer of trying new things.

“I say…that sounds amazing.”

He smiles and I melt under it, more heat pooling between my legs the longer he looks at me.

“If at any time you wish to stop, tell me, ok? If it hurts or does not make you feel good, you tell me, ok?”

I nod.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes. Yes.”

He caresses my face, gently pulling me to him and presses his lips to mine. His fingers brush against my skin as he reaches for the clasp on my bra, quickly undoing it and sliding it down my arms with the speed of an expert. Once it's off, I feel more self conscious, having never really exposed myself like this before. Javier crooks his finger, tipping my chin up to look at him, his eyes black with lust in the shitty hotel light.

"You're so beautiful," he says, kissing me again as he puts slight pressure on my body to get me to lay down.

I do and he lays on his side, propping himself up with his arm as he looks at me, his eyes sliding down to my chest. He lightly trails his fingertips across my shoulders, slowly moving down to my boobs. He gently cups one and I let out a puff of air, the touch sending tingles between my legs. His thumb glides across one of my nipples and a whine comes from somewhere within me, my back arching. He takes advantage of this angle and brings his mouth to my nipple, warm and wet, licking, sucking, and slightly biting at me.

"Oh!" Is all I can seem to remember how to say as he shifts to my other boob, giving it the same treatment.

His hand is on my stomach, gently resting and grounding me here. But as he starts to suck harder, my back arching more off the bed, his hand starts to trace small lines down, pausing at the line to my underwear. He pulls his head up, looking down at me until I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them in the first place.

"I'm going to touch you now, Hermosa. Is that ok?"

I nod, my chest heaving with anticipation. "Yes."

His light touch down the inside of my thigh, tracing the line of my underwear and going up the other side sends jolts of something through me, gathering between my legs and I find myself begging him, for what I'm not exactly sure. But then his hand slides under my panties, his finger gliding through the slick he finds there and I almost launch myself off the bed, a sound I’ve never heard before erupting from my throat. He uses the pad of his pointer finger to rub small circles on a very specific spot on me and I cry his name, and overwhelming feeling coming over me, like I was about to explode.

“S-stop!”

Jaiver immediately stops and pulls his hand from me, his eyes on my face, his brow furrowed with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“What did you feel?”

“I…I…”

“You can tell me, hermosa.” His eyes are so big and concerned and I know he just wants to make sure I’m ok.

“It..it felt like…I don’t know, like…like I was about to…explode? I think?”

The furrow releases and he cocks his head at me. “Hermosa…have you never?”

“Never…what?”

“Had an orgasm?”

I blush, feeling warmth spread across my cheeks at the mention of this taboo word. Well, taboo in my house anyway.

“I..I don’t know?”

He places a hand over mine, the warmth from his palm spreading across the top of my hand. “It’s ok. Just…let yourself go with it. Don’t fight it.”

I can’t meet his eyes, embarrassed by my lack of knowledge. “Will it…will it hurt?”

He smiles. “Quite the opposite.”

I nod, a little relieved at that. “Ok…just..relax?”

“Yes. Just feel it, feel how good it makes you feel and just let it come.”

I nod, giving him a little smile and his hand slides back down me, rubbing little circles in what I’m calling my magic spot. The heat comes back, my hips lifting to get more pressure and I can feel the explosion building, trying to claw it’s way out of me, my mouth hanging open until-

“OH!” A string of gasps and sounds rip from my throat as the explosion fans out from where Javier was touching me, gliding along all my nerves and out to everywhere, my fingertips, my toes, my head tingles as I continue making sounds I’ve never heard before. Only when my legs start to shake does Javier stop, placing a kiss to the inside of my hip as he waits for me. I open my eyes, chest heaving as I try to process what happened.

“Feel good?” He asks.

“Is that…is that what it feels like?”

“If someone knows what they’re doing. Or you do it yourself.”

“You can do that to yourself??”

He chuckles. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own. But right now, I really must taste you.”

“What does that mean?”

He looks at me darkly as he shifts over me, pushing my legs apart like it was nothing and slotting his shoulder between them. He smirks at me before lowering his head and-

“Oh shit!”

His tongue is on me, caressing the places where his fingers had once been, and my skin is still sensitive from before. I can feel my thighs banging on the sides of his head, but this seems to urge him on further, his nose nuzzling into me to coax more breathy sounds from my lips.

He lifts his head slightly, looking up at me before licking his hand and placing it on me, sliding his fingers down and circling me before slowly, gently, pushing in a finger. It’s warm, his finger, as he pumps it in and out of me, moving it in a circle as if to stretch me, just a few times before he lowers his head again, his tongue on me as he pushes in a second finger. I’m moaning, hips trying to wiggle away from him but he’s pinned me to the bed, lapping at me like he’d never tasted anything so good. I look down at him and the sight sends the explosion between my legs again, a yell erupting from me as he keeps pumping his fingers, curling them to hit something inside of me that makes the explosion more intense than the first one. He sits up, wiping his face, smiling at me.

“You taste amazing, hermosa.”

“That’s..yeah…ok…I…uh huh…”

Javier chuckles but moves up my body, slotting his hips between my legs, the bulge in his jeans rubbing against me, that now familiar warmth spreading quickly. His lips press to mine and I taste a tang, which must be me, and he deepens it, pushing hair off of my face before he pulls back and looks at me.

“How are you doing?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this good.”

He chuckles, but slides off my body and stands up, his arm muscles rippling as he pushes himself up. He reaches for the button on his pants and pops it open, sliding them down, revealing that he was not wearing any form of underwear. When he stands straight his dick bounces slightly, and I swallow hard, my eyes glued to him. I try to look away, embarrassed by my staring, but Javier assures me it’s ok to look.

“Will you fit?” I ask, nearly whispering.

He lowers himself to the bed, crawling over me until he pushes his hips against mine, his hard cock pinned between us.

“I will. I made sure to stretch you out before. But if anything hurts, tell me, ok?”

“I….ok.”

He kisses me, grinding his hips down and against that spot he rubbed before and I feel the heat coming back, tingles shooting through me as he increases the pressure. He pulls his hips back and I can feel him, hesitating a moment as he looks down at me before slowly pushing in.

“Oh! Oh, what…ugh!”

I have nothing to compare him to but I imagine he’s not exactly small, pushing slowly into me and pulling out to give me time to adjust.

“Stop!”

He freezes and starts to pull out but I grab his arms. “No, just…don’t move. Give me a sec, please.”

He doesn’t move, his eyes on me as I take several deep breaths. It does hurt a little, but it also feels good. Really good. Like he was made for me and I for him. I nod, telling him I’m ok and he starts pushing in again. Eventually his hips can go no further - or so I thought. He adds a small little thrust and I’m seeing stars, my hands reaching for him but stopping just short of grabbing him, unsure of where to be.

“You can touch me, hermosa. Whatever you feel, just follow it.”

He slowly melds his hips to mine, thrusting deeper and I wrap my arms around him, fingernails digging into his back. One of my hands finds the back of his head and I run my fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. He moans, practically purring, so I give it a little tug, loving the sound of the growl he makes when I do this. He snaps his hips a hair faster, my breathy moans echoing in the small room, and the newly familiar tingle between my legs comes racing back. Javier wraps his arrms under my legs, pushing them up and further back, changing the angle and rubbing against something inside of me that pushes me over the edge, my body feeling like it’s exploding all over again.

“Ja-Jav-Javier!” I cry out, my head pushing back into the pillow, my mouth hanging open as my fingernails carve even deeper crescent moons into his tanned skin. A few more thrusts from him and he grunts, little breathy moans spilling from his lips, his eyes closed as he leans over me, nipping at my chin.

We lay like that for a few moments, each of us heavy breathing against the other before Javier pulls out with a small grunt, heading into the bathroom and remerging with a wet cloth. He kneels on the bed and presses the cloth to me and my legs twitch, a smirk appearing on his face as he continues to clean me up. He tosses the cloth towards the bathroom and places a kiss on the inside of my knee, resting his jaw against it as he looks at me, his eyes soft in the dim light of the room.

“How do you feel, hermosa?”

“I feel…” How do I explain this feeling? Complete relaxation, a pleasant, low vibrating feeling throughout my body that makes my eyelids heavy, and what I know is a dopey smile on my face.

“I’ve never felt this good in my life.”

He smiles and I melt under it. “Good. I wanted to make sure you were properly taken care of. It’s a crime that it’s taken this long for someone so beautiful.”

I’m blushing, looking away as if he wasn’t buried impossibly deep inside of me mere minutes ago. He turns, looking around at the ground for his clothes and suddenly I find myself more insecure, vulnerable. I know he was leaving for an extended work trip in the morning, and I was leaving to head home, which is hours away. Still, I didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“Um..Javier?”

He pauses in his search for a sock. “Yes, hermosa?”

“Could, um…I mean, would you…”

He looks up at me and his face softens as he realizes what I’m attempting to ask. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I…only if you want to. I don’t want to impose…”

Javier sets the pants he was holding down on the table and crosses the room to the bed. He pulls back the blanket and slides in next to me, pulling me close to his chest.

“I have an early flight but I can stay until then.”

My body relaxes into him. “Are you sure?”

He nods, kissing the top of my head. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

—-

Javier

It's early, the sun not quite cresting over the horizon to start the day. A glance at the clock told him that he needed to leave to make it to the airport in time for his flight to Bogotá.

Javier runs a hand over his face, pinching his eyes to try and help him wake up. He turns to look at the woman beside him. She's still fast asleep, her bare chest rising and falling softly with deep sleep, her mouth hanging slightly open. Her hand is on his bare chest, like she didn't want to let him go.

He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay and learn more about this woman. He'd intended to go to the bar and get one last fuck in before he went to Colombia, not knowing what he'd find waiting for him there. But when he saw Vanessa, something intrigued him. She was young, and most likely lying about her age a bit, but she seemed confident, although a tad naive. She was smart, damn was she smart, and a wit to match his own. Plus she was easily the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

Javier picks up her hand from his chest, pressing a kiss to the back of it, gently laying it on the bed next to her. His eyes raked over her face and the words of his late mother came back to him, words she'd spoken to him when he was just a young boy.

"Javier, if you like a girl, give her flowers. But if you love her, give her roses."

Javier wouldn't say he was in love with her already, but something inside him said there was the potential for love. It just wasn't the right time. He had to go fight Escobar and she had to go back to Corpus Christi, the only memory of him some possible soreness between her legs.

He almost missed his flight but it was worth it to find a place that sold roses, buying a single one to leave on the pillow next to her. He wanted her to know she was more than an easy fuck to him. That she, in that moment, was cared for and not taken advantage of.

He lays the rose down, tucking some hair behind her ear and placing a soft kiss to her slightly parted lips before he leaves, quietly closing the door behind him and heading towards what would be the hardest 6 years of his life.

—----

In the morning he’s gone, the clock on the beside table telling me it was nearly 10am. I stretch, feeling a sore but pleasant feeling between my thighs and I sigh, remembering the nights activities. I turn and, on the pillow next to me, is a single red rose. I smile, picking it up and giving it a sniff, it’s sweet perfume filling my brain with even more images of last night. I liked Javier and I got the feeling he liked me, despite the obvious age gap. And the fact that I lied a little about my age. We seemed to have a connection and it makes me a little sad that we won’t get the chance to explore that.

“I’ll never see that man again,” I say to myself, sighing a little before getting ready to leave.

If I only knew how wrong I was.

-------

>>Part 2>>

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