#written as an ace who knows nothing about sex

[oneeyedlove]

King of the ashes.

summary | Moons had passed since your last quarrel with your estranged husband, the events of Rook’s Rest bringing you together one more time.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x oc!reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x oc!reader (platonic).

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! Unprotected sex, PinV, arguing, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of death, Targ!cest, ANGST/little comfort, ooc Aemond (probably). SPOILERS

wordcount | 8.5K - i am so sorry

note | All the valyrian i use comes from a very shady translator so there probably are a lot of mistakes, if you have any input or helpful information pls tell me. I got really excited writing this but I feel the last part is a bit rushed, sorry about that! Any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Find part 1 here

[ gif by @gameofthronesdaily ]

124 AC

The afternoon sun spilled its light upon the tearful eyes of prince Aemond Targaryen, almost if mocking his heartache through its refulgent heat. The young boy sheltered himself in a seemingly abandoned corridor of the Red Keep, seeking solace from the cruel hoax imposed on him during his lessons. He could still hear them, their words — “The Pink Dread”. Such title roared in his ears, humiliation engulfing the silver prince as he forced his cries back into his throat. His mother had failed in her feeble attempts to comfort him, her attention focused solely on punishing his nephews for their so called savagery — even if it was clear this had Aegon’s name written all over it.

The worst part was that she had witnessed it. She hadn’t laughed or joined them in their persecution, but he could not bear the thought of his weakness being exposed before her. Hers was the judgment he feared most after all, she was the only one he could truly call friend.

Aemond hadn’t taken notice of a blue covered figure that watched him until she sat at his side, her weight shifting the cushions of the settee beneath them. His eyes refused to meet hers, hoping to conceal his shame as he hugged his knees against his chest. The girl stared at him in silence, her back resting on the wall whilst her feet dangled over the edge of her seat.

“Aem…” Aelora finally spoke, the softness in her tone melodic as a ballad.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

She had been made aware of Aemond’s displeasure concerning the dearth of a dragon to call his own through countless protests, his state being one of constant anger towards what he deemed his fault. It was also known by her that he would grow to be the most estimable dragonrider of them all, for none were devoted to learning and practicing as he was — it was only a matter of patience. Thus, when Aelora’s eyes caught sight of the swine inside the dragonpit, her brothers knew their mother’s chastening would be nothing compared to hers.

“My brothers are fools, I wish to apologize on their behalf.” She brought her hand to hold his, a gesture of innocent assurance.

“You did not deserve it.”

The boy slowly drifted his eyes from the window to lay his gaze upon her, his heartbeat quavering at her touch. Nevertheless, her kind words couldn’t erase his shortcomings — he couldn’t accept charity for his ridicule, he wouldn’t.

“I… I have no need for your pity.” As much as he tried, he failed to stop woe from consuming his voice, as well as his demeanor.

“I don’t pity you.” Grasping his hand tighter, she looked at him through furrowed brows.

“You shall have a dragon. One even bigger than Sunfyre, I know it! In the meantime you can help me with Lyrrax, even fly with me once she’s big enough!”

It was evident her enthusiasm was a childish one, an effort to install hope over the sorrow that buried his thoughts — but she had no care for it. She noticed as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips, even as he tried to suppress it. She wasn’t the one who owed him an apology, and yet there she was, offering her own dragon for an olive branch. His gaze flickered down at their hands, her smaller one over his, and he intertwined their fingers. The tension in his shoulders visibly eased, for Aelora’s presence was reassuring and tender.

“You truly believe I'll claim one?” He asked, unable to hide the fleeting shadow of optimism that burned in his eyes.

“I am certain of it. We are Targaryens, the blood of the dragon. You just haven’t found the right one for you.” A smile crept its way onto her face, her cheeks rosy and plump with eagerness.

Aemond scanned the girl before him, his expression almost vulnerable. The feeling of indignity was one familiar to the young boy and he had enough of it. He contemplated her words for a moment, and for once allowed himself to consider she might be right.

“Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I lack patience.” He let out a deep breath, as if letting go of the bitterness that had taken hold of him.

“You would do well to remember I’m always right.” The smug grin on her face earned herself only a rolling of eyes in response.

“Come on. I know something that will lift your spirits.”

Her words had barely escaped her lips before she burst through the corridor, tugging the prince’s hand as they ran. Hurried footsteps clashed against cold stone as Aelora strided through the maze of indistinguishable aisles, her gaze occasionally flickering towards the boy behind her. The smile that stubbornly weld itself onto Aemond’s face had transformed into a beaming grin, the sound of her angelic giggles clipping away the sullenness from his features.

A deafening thump alerted the prince of their whereabouts, the wide entry of her bedchamber welcoming him inside. He stepped in and curiously observed as she struggled to close the wooden doors, trapping the pair of them in concealment. The calling gesture of the princess hand woke him from his trance as he marched towards the illustrated wall beside her bed.

“Wait, what are you doing?” His head tilted in confusion whilst he fixated his lilac eyes on her hands. Her palm grazed the intricate designs on the stone, finally encountering the familiar crease on the surface — she pushed it, a dimly lit passageway staring back at him.

“Its Maegor’s secret tunnels!”

Aemond's bewilderment had quickly given way to wonder and awe. The maesters had taught him legends of Maegor's construction schemes, rumored to be an intricate labyrinth hidden beneath the Red Keep, but he never dreamed he would get to see them for himself.

“What?! How in the Seven Hells did you find them?”He asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“A fortunate accident.” She shrugged.

“I was hoping to find the way to your apartments and surprise you but I reckon it cannot be done anymore.”

“You’re mad!” His gaze quickly flickered back to Aelora.

His eyes, violet in the soft daylight that cascaded through the nearby window, studied her almost warily, as if to gauge a reaction from her. He received no such thing. The princess brought her hand to his once again, carefully establishing themselves inside the narrow corridor as the heavy stone shut behind the two. Aemond allowed himself to be pulled along, not even protesting in favour of the tunnel. He observed the strange architecture through their route, the dim light that filtered through small gaps, and the strange cobwebs that had taken form. The limb that remained in hers seemed to squeeze it almost possessively — out of fear, or out of eagerness, Aelora could likely tell.

The hairs atop the young royals’ heads twirled at the light breeze that embraced them, the scent of saltwater filling their nostrils. A moss covered archway revealed a small, damp cavern. As they entered, rugged walls formed by weathered rock surrounded them and an opening that lead directly onto the beach offered a panoramic view of the shoreline and the rolling waves beyond. Beams of sunlight streamed in through gaps, illuminating the cave's interior with a soft, ambient glow. Their feet grazed the sandy floor underneath them, scattered with small shells and pebbles, remnants of the sea's presence. Inside the serene and veiled space, a true connection between land and ocean can be felt — a fitting discovery for a princess of House Velaryon.

Aelora’s brown orbs searched for the boy’s lilac ones, a wide grin spread on her face as she squeezed his hand tenderly.

“So… What do you make of it?”

Aemond was quietly impressed, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling of the cave, eyes roaming across the stalactites that hanged over them, a small gasp escaping his pink lips. He slowly peeled his hand from the princess, walking over to the opening to look out at the sea.

“How — how did you find this place?” The young prince questioned softly, his head turning back to look at her with an almost admiring gaze.

“It is unimportant. We can confine ourselves here whenever we like! The others do not know about it — I’m halfway certain no one does.”

A small, pleased smile tugged on his features just at the thought of using the cave as a hideaway; a private place, just for himself and Aelora. He hums quietly under his breath, in slight agreement.

“Our secret?” He extend his pinky towards her, indicating for her to do the same.

“Ours.” She smiled as she locked their fingers together in a silent promise.

A silent minute exchanged itself between the pair, the linger of a childish oath tickling their skin. The future memory would cling to their hearts for years to come, a longing fondness drowning them each and every time — except they had no knowledge of it as of the moment, being too focused on the possible amusement that would certainly come from the cavern’s discovery.

“I can best you to the shore!” Aemond wasted no time as he sprinted to approach the broken waves at the end of the beach.

“Wait!” She shouted, avidly picking up her pace to match the boy’s, his long limbs giving him a considerable advantage over the girl behind him.

It had been an entire afternoon of nothing but running, chasing, and exploring together. The young prince had forgotten his troubles and worries completely, instead focusing on the thrill of catching a slippery, wiggling sand crab. The cold feeling of the seawater against his skin didn’t bother him either, nor did the wind whipping at his silver hair as they sat building sandcastles. By the time dusk began to settle, the two children had become completely filthy with sand, mud, and water. Their garments were most likely ruined from the seaweed’s smell, fact that would assuredly earn them serious reprimands from their mothers. Yet, he could not remember a time when he felt so alive.

As they returned to the cave, the sunset’s glow reflected in the wet stones inside, a sense of comfort enveloping the rock-strewn cavity. Aelora’s gaze fell upon the young prince before her, his valyrian grace never yielding to his disheveled appearance. She observed as he bent down, a sharp ore emerging in his hand.

“What are you doing?” She questioned through a mess of rumpled braids.

Aemond glanced up to look at her, smiling softly. With careful movements, the boy carved into the rock, his free hand resting against the stone wall for balance. After a moment, the four letters of their initials were carved into the stone. The scribbles “A.T.” and “A.V.” were jagged and a bit uneven, but still clearly visible.

”Leaving a marking… to remember.”

---

129 AC

Bleeding. Bruised. Brokenhearted. Those were the exact words to describe the state in which princess Aelora Velaryon arrived at Dragonstone. The crimson liquid that gushed out of her right side was courtesy of a Kingsguard during his desperate attempts to put a stop to her fleeing — the remnants of his white cloak hanging from Lyrrax’s teeth were evidence of the retribution he earned. The loyal she-dragon landed crudely, sharp claws sinking in the placid sand as her screeches blended with her rider’s whimpers. The princess could sense the pain inside the beast’s mind, their unbreakable connection making their emotions into one.

Pellets of rain grazed her face as she crawled up the endless stairs towards the peak of the islet, the translucent droplets mixing with tears of her own. The young woman’s sobs were filled with tales of disloyalty. She had betrayed her family, her duty, and worst of all, she had been betrayed by him. The one who stood before the gods of Old Vayria and pledged his unyielding love for her. The one who she had deemed worthy of the deserting of her kin. The one who promised her a future beyond the carnage of war. And yet he was the first to commence bloodshed. Her devotion had not been enough to subdue Aemond’s thirst for revenge — but how she wished that it had.

The mud on the soles of her shoes stuck to the stone floor, leaving behind a trail of shame as she entered the intimidating fortress. Her name and titles thundered inside her ears as the voice of a guard announced her arrival, though she hadn’t actually heard him. Her tormented psyche fevered with dread, fearful of the reactions she would receive due the forsaking of her own blood. All the eyes of her mother’s Small Counsel widened at the sight of the princess, distress and grief scattered across their faces. Her gaze flickered to the silvery locks on Raenyra’s head, the woman’s back turned to the room.

Aelora’s steps were slow and somber, as if her soul had faded and the lifeless carcass of who she was moved against her wishes. She skipped past Daemon at her mother’s side, lacking the nerve to meet his stare. Finally, she reached the bereaved woman before her, brown meeting lilac in a lachrymose gaze. Their pale hands intertwined in haste, and the once composed tears transformed into loud sobs as the young princess collapsed to her knees, begging for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness. Blood and teardrops met in the Black Queen’s dress, staining it as she knelt in front of her daughter. She brought up her palm to caress the side of the young woman’s face, the maternal touch conveying a juvenile yearning in Aelora’s heart.

“Oh my sweet girl.” Her mother whispered as anguish imbued her words.

---

The moons that followed Luke’s death were arduous for the princess, constantly having to prove herself before the family that once accepted her. Rhaena and Rhaenyra had silently recognized Aelora’s circumstances, acknowledging she grieved for a husband as well as a brother. Baela had hesitated in the endorsing of her cousin but surrendered to her pleads nonetheless. Daemon barely addressed his wife’s daughter, his hatred for his nephew fused inside the resentful stares he gave her. Despite her best efforts to cope with her standing, it was Jacaerys’ unyielding disregard for his sister that slayed the woman’s hope of mending their bond. The storm behind the prince’s eyes was well hidden inside his stoic expressions, seemingly unaffected by Aelora’s prayers for his recognition. It was only in the afternoon before their grandmother’s departure for Rook’s Rest that the siblings found each other.

The soft rustle of parchment echoed through the otherwise silent library, a salty breeze infiltrating itself through the window. The princess sat by the unlit fireplace as her gaze swept across the leather-bound books scattered inside the numerous shelves, each and all replete with the history of House Targaryen. The smell of dusty, old tomes was a bitter comfort in the midst of her morose silence. She had accustomed herself to this moments of solitude, seeking solace inside her soul. At heart, her deepest fantasies scampered free, picturing a simpler life as a commoner — untethered by the Targaryen name and relieved from the torment of the constant shadow of war.

Aelora was chased back into reality as Jacaerys’ presence made itself known. The young man invaded the room like a blizzard, his cold glare locking upon her figure as she rested over the armrest of the settee. Her eyes glistened with heartache once she felt how profoundly hostile her brother had become, turning on his heel to abandon her presence. The woman’s voice trembled as she spoke, her words pleading and vulnerable.

"Jacaerys, wait...please."

He halted, his shoulders tense as he looked back at her. The expression on his face was hard to read, a mixture of ire and pain etched into his features.

"What do you want, Aelora?" His voice was cold, the distance between them palpable.

"Have I stooped so low in your graces that my presence offends you? We are family, Jacaerys. Can we not even speak?" Her voice was laced with a hint of desperation as she asked.

"You ask for words as if they could undo what has already been done." His expression hardened, his jaw tightening at her words.

Aelora got to her feet, her legs trembling under her weight. He spoke as if it had been her to murder Luke, not Aemond. Her eyes met his as she stood, her voice wavering with a mix of sorrow and anger.

“Do you truly believe I have not been made aware of that?!”

“Every day of my miserable existence is plagued by guilt. I close my eyes at night yet sleep eludes me, for the ghost of Luke haunts my every thought!” She grew restless at every word, tears forming in her brown orbs as she gestured frantically through phrases.

“I know I failed him, as I failed you and our family… But don't forget I too lost a brother that day.”

Jacaerys stood frozen in place, his grief still bubbling within him and yet his heart ached at the sight of his sister's tears. Her words cut through him like a dagger, his own teardrops threatening to fall.

"Luke is gone, Aelora, and your presence here only serves as a reminder of that fact." He took a step backwards, his jaw clenching as he struggled to control his emotions.

“You cannot blame me for what was not my doing. I was Aemond’s wife, not his conscience — albeit my best efforts.”

"But you married our enemies, sister! Do you truly believe your actions have no consequences?"

"You stood by while they plotted against us and our family. How can I not blame you, when you chose to bind your fate to theirs?" A hint of anger flashed in Jacaerys' mournful eyes as he continued.

“i admit i have made my bed and I must lie in it, but you speak of matters you do not understand.” She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she could shield herself from his hatred.

“He swore to me…“ Her voice cracked, heartbreak swallowing her words.

“He swore to avoid this — to stop this insane feud. He is an oathbreaker as well as a kinslayer and he made me a fool!”

The room was still tense but as Aelora's sobbing grew heavier, something shifted within Jacaerys. He stepped closer to his sister, and without a word, pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. His body was warm against her chilly frame as he held her close, almost protectively. Their grievances seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced only by a shared sorrow as her tears dampened his shoulder.

“Do you hold love for him, still?” He whispered.

“Only for the memory of who he used to be.”

The prince held Aelora a little tighter at her admission, his chin resting on the top of her head as they remained locked in their embrace. He could feel the weight of her broken heart and the ache it left her with. His wrath had dimmed, replaced by a sense of care and familial loyalty.

"Memories are not enough… Promise to break him should you get the chance"

“I will.”

Neither of them knew, but she lied.

Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, met her fate by the hands of the newly appointed Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Meleys, The Red Queen, had her head paraded through the streets of King’s Landing.

And Aelora, Aemond’s beloved nightmare, sent him a raven.

“We must speak. Find me at ghost’s hour where salt meets memory.

A.V.”

---

The stars twinkled outside the formidable walls of Dragonstone, nightfall enveloping the island in its deep shadows. The approach of ghost’s hour disrupted the princess’ heartbeat inside her chest, her previous conviction giving way to fright as she slithered into the network of caves where the dragons nested. Aelora called out to Lyrrax, her voice wavering with a mixture of stress and uncertainty. As the great beast appeared before her, its wings unfurling, she couldn't help but wonder why she had sent the meeting request at all.

The dragon’s own tension could be felt through her scales as the princess climbed onto its back, the weight of her decision settling on them like a heavy cloak. As they soared through the night sky, Aelora's thoughts were consumed by memories of Aemond and his treachery. The image of him flying over her grandmother’s corpse haunted her mind — the cold, merciless expression he conveyed twisting her guts. She questioned her own judgement in seeking him out, even as her heart yearned for the man who once pledged his undying love and protection. She looked back at Dragonstone, its familiar walls and towers illuminated by the silvery moonlight; she was abandoning her blood for him once again. The princess could only surmise she was either possessed by madness or a true lovelorn fool.

The frigid roar of wind traveled across her face as Lyrrax’s wings scraped over the tide’s surface, saltwater droplets cutting into her skin as well as her pride. She knew her grandmother would never forgive her for this, it was likely none would; she was an idiotic excuse for a Targaryen if she thought seeking the slayer of so many of her kin was justifiable. The burden of loss hung heavily on Aelora's soul as she took in the landscape before her. The faces of Rhaenys and Luke, forever etched in her mind, fueled a mix of anger and trepidation inside the young woman. Her thoughts swirled with a maelstrom of emotions as she soared towards him, recollections of the past playing out like a tragic play as her brown orbs focused upon the once affectionate site of King’s landing.

With practiced grace, Aelora guided the dragon into a smooth descent, its blue wings beating against the air as its claws set down on the shore of Blackwater Bay. The sound of their landing was muffled by the night, its velvety darkness swallowing the pair by the quiet that enveloped the world like a thick, black blanket. The crash of the waves greeted the princess’ ears as she dismounted, struggling to catch her breath and steady her emotions. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the young woman caught sight of the familiar cave that laid ahead, its entrance like a dark maw in the cliffside. The jagged edges were illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, sending shadows dancing across the rocky surface.

Bittersweetness engulfed Aelora’s frame as the memories memories of her secret rendezvouses with Aemond brimmed in her mind. Every step she took towards the cave was like a blow to her legs, feeling shaky and unsteady. Doubt gnawed at her spirit as if a persistent rat, her stomach flipping with every crunch of the sand beneath her feet. Yet, she pushed forward, determination fueling the princess even as her disheveled heartbeat hammered against her ribcage.

The sight of Aemond standing amongst the shadows caught Aelora off guard, the dim light emanating through the cave's entrance barely illuminating his form — she had thought to be the first to arrive. Before she could stop it, a slight gasp escaped her lips and her eyes widened in disbelief. He looked different, somehow. He seemed further villainous and wearied, the once familiar spark in his eye now replaced by a bold robustness. His sharp and handsome features were now harder, almost rugged, as if her absence had left its mark on him. Swallowing hard, she acknowledged the stark contrast between the nostalgic sentiment that nearly overcame her a moment ago and the tense silence that now enveloped them. They stood opposite each other mutely, both frozen and locked in each other’s gaze.

“Wife.” He greeted, his voice grazing her earlobes like the finest of silks.

“That title does not fit me any longer.” She replied coldly.

His lilac eye examined Aelora’s frame from head to toe, her cloak hiding black leather garments — most likely dragonriding attire. She looked skinnier than he recalled, the shadows only enhancing the redness of her eyes. Aemond could not help but wonder whether she had been weeping during her journey there, grief tackling her psyche as well as her build. The princess demeanor turned stiff, arms crossing as she stood clearly on edge.

“You remain mine, before gods and men.” His gaze flickered with something akin to resentment.

“Kinslaying is a rather suitable ground for an annulment, i should think.” She said, removing the cloak from her head, allowing her braid to cascade over her shoulder.

He froze, the muscles on his neck and jaw tensed. His first reaction is one of anger, clenching his fist as he prepared hateful words inside his throat. But as he looked her in the eye, his wrath melted away into something much more dangerous and devastating — something fragile. All he could see was the girl he grew up with, the girl who stood by him at his boyhood. The woman who whispered sweet nothings amongst the vows of their wedding. The woman who played silly songs on the harp and sang with the loveliest voice he'd ever heard. The wife who's hands he dreamed of at night.

“So eager to rid yourself of the shame affixed to my reputation… And yet, you request my presence with equal vigor.” He stood with his hands behind his back, swallowing any desires that threatened to get the better of him.

“It is my understanding you have become Prince Regent.” She tried to ignore his jabs, the truthfulness they held hitting a sore point inside Aelora.

“The betrayal of your brother becomes you. Yet another broken oath in your conquest for the throne.” She returned his insults, the knowledge of his ambition stirring something within the prince.

“You speak of broken oaths. And what ought I call the oaths you have broken? The promises we made when we married in front of Heleana and the Gods?” His one eye darkened, taking a step forward as he kept his tone controlled.

“Your hypocrisy is staggering.” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he spoke.

“My hypocrisy?!” She could feel the anger boiling her blood, as if fire consuming wood.

“Your sanctimonious preaches fail to erase your true nature, Aemond. Naming yourself Targaryen whilst the sigil of our house is paraded through the streets as if some vainglorious prize of war!” Her voice turned to screeches as it echoed through the stone walls of the cave.

“You may call me a bastard if you wish to, but my blood honors Old Valyria far more than yours.”

Aemond’s hand shot to her wrist, gripping it tight enough to leave marks on the skin underneath. His single eye was wild and livid, the scar around it turning his gaze even more menacing. He moved a step closer, the scent of him overwhelming her — mint and leather mixed with a hint of smoke, the familiar essence blurred her senses in a wave of longing. The princess hid her weakening behind a wrath curtain, the disdain she held for the twisted version of him that now stood before her casting their love aside.

“Watch your tongue, Aelora.”

“Or else? Will your murder me as you did my brother? My grandmother? I can see the conqueror’s dagger in it’s seath, evidence of yet another attempt at fratricide!” She accused him further.

“Have you not done enough? Must you ravage our family and yourself in your thirst for power?”

The hand that gripped her wrist traveled up to the back of her head, grabbing the braided hair. Yanking it softly, he pulled Aelora even closer, his lilac orb flickering over her expression.

“I am Prince Regent as the Gods intended.” He hissed into her ear, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“My reign, unlike that of Aegon, will be glorious — my rule absolute. And you, wife, will be by my side when I sit on the Iron Throne.”

Aelora’s eyes betrayed her as water began to brim in their edges, a horrified gleam passing through her forming tears. A hand cupped his left cheek as she scanned him, a desperate search for the man he once was. The man she longed for each night. The man who was the source of greater heartache than she had ever felt in her life. The man who was also the root of her most joyous moments.

“Your ambition shall be your demise, husband. I was yours before all of this, before your perverseness overcame your affection for me.”

“The crown may sit upon your brow, but i have sufficiently torn my heart to shreads in my attempts to remove you — even if you are my weakness, I will never belong by your side once more.”

”No wrath or cruelty is capable of subduing my craving of you, issa vēzos (my sun).” He leaned into her touch, letting his eye flutter at the feeling of the soft skin of her palm against his cold cheek.

In that moment of contact, he seemed so vulnerable, and much younger than his years. He was weak. A pathetic, love-sick man, and he could not bring himself to care. Aemond leaned his head against hers, their foreheads connecting as his gaze softened.

“I am plagued by thoughts of you and I, each reminiscence a torment to my soul.”

“Come back to me, be my Queen and rule by my side. Our love will be known forever through the Seven Kingdoms, your belly swollen with our child ensuring our line shall never be forgotten.”

There was a moment of silence as Aelora absorbed his words. He was offering her a chance at a life she had dreamed of, one full of passion and legacy as their offspring lived on after them. But it would be an existence consumed by greed, she knew it. There could be no going back after what he had done; Lucerys would never be uncle to her progeny and Rhaenys wouldn’t be there to counsel her through hardships. Their family was torn from the beginning, the tapestry of their lives further lacerated by his actions. And she couldn’t betray her blood again.

“I would do anything for you.” He begged.

“Would your bend the knee to my mother?” Her voice was shaky as the lachrymose gaze she held shattered, its translucent shards falling through her cheeks.

"I will give you anything. Anything within my power to give." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"But not my crown."

“Then there shall be naught left to ask, issa hūra (my moon).” She sent him a smile, albeit a woeful one.

Aemond opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be in vain. He was so close to her that he could feel her breath on his lips, the feeling slowly driving him mad. He had imagined Aelora’s face, her curves and her voice each night he had been forced to spend alone — and here she was, right before him, but he couldn’t have her. The thought of how this could be the last time he held her without being shoved away made him pull her to him, his arms wrapping around her like vines.

The princess found herself unable to resist as she pressed her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting presence in the silent cavern. She clung to him tightly, her fingers gripping his clothing like a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. For a moment, they stood there, holding each other without a word. The moons of distance melted away, replaced by a shared sense of desperate longing to be close again. Despite the comfort and familiarity of his embrace, she knew deep down that he would never surrender — his path set on the course of war and the bloodshed it entailed. The pain and loss they had faced would forever stand between them, but it did not matter tonight. Concealed by shadows inside the stone walls surrounding them, their grievances and broken oaths would dim at the radiance of their burning passion. For a brief moment, the pair would be one once more.

Aelora’s head parted from the warmth of his frame as her gaze followed the line of Aemond's jaw, her brown orbs traveling upward until they reached his mouth. A sharp breath hitched within her throat as she remembered the soft touch of his lips against hers, butterflies rattling in her stomach. In that moment, she was transported back to the blissful months of their marriage, when their intimacies were full of love and promise. The need to feel the familiar touch of his skin against hers consuming every inch of her being.

The prince’s mind and body were on fire. He could feel her gaze raking over him, like a caress to his spirit. The mere sight of his estranged wife in his arms making his heart pound wildly in his chest. His good eye watched her mouth as she swallowed, his one trackmindedness fixated on everything about her. He could see the memories, the same ones he saw every night, flashing through her gaze. His fingers reached up to brush a strand of her brown hair aside, her once perfect braid now half done as the long locks threaten to escape. His hand trembled with how badly he wanted to feel her body, to trace his hands over her curves and kiss her neck, as he had done countless times before.

Aelora's restraint snapped with a sharp tug as she pulled him down towards her, their lips finally meeting in a desperate, ardent kiss. A muffled gasp left her lips at the familiar touch, her body responding instinctively as she pressed herself against him, hungrily devouring his taste. The prince’s sense of control collapsed like a house of cards, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he held her close. He was a man starved, his palms roaming over her frame, as if trying to commit every curve to memory.

Aemond's hands began to roam under her cloak, his fingers tracing over the round hips hidden underneath. He could feel the heat of her desire through the thick fabric, his own body aching to devour her whole. The fingers on his left hand fiddled over the clasp of her mantle, yearning overcoming his senses as he tossed the fabric onto the delicate sand.

Before he was able to protest, Aelora broke their kiss. Her eyes glistened with arousal as she watched his lips, reddened and bruised from the hastiness of their embrace. Her nimble hands found the buckle of her leather doublet, shivering as the absence of the rougher material revealed her chemise underneath. The sheer linen did little to protect the princess’ frame from the cold breeze that made its way through the cave’s entrance, her nipples stiffening at the feeling. The young woman felt no grief for her modesty as Aemond’s eye watched her carefully, a glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She continued to undress, slender fingers slowly untying the laces on her breeches. Her boots met the rest of her dragonriding garments on the jagged rocks by the cavern’s wall, leaving the princess in only her smallclothes.

The silver prince was left breathless by her actions, completely entranced by the sight of her exposed chest, every contour of her body on display through the translucent fabric. His eye drank in the sight and he could feel his blood rushing to a southernmost point. He wanted to worship her, to kiss and nibble her skin — to make her cry out his name until the only thing she could remember was the feel of him against herself. At this moment, he was no longer Aemond Targaryen, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm; he was a dog at her heel, eager for her calling. His gaze never left hers, staring at her vulnerable state as he mirrored her actions. First he removed his baldric, steel clinking as his dagger and sword fell to the ground. Then, he slowly undid the various buckles on his black jerkin, his breeches following suit. He did not waver as her brown eyes found his stiffened manhood; for he hadn’t cared to remain in concealment as she did.

Aelora’s gaze followed her husband as he approached her again, his hands reaching out and his fingers gently sliding up her bare thigh. She felt him press further into her, his cock pushing itself snugly against her core. He leaned in until his mouth was just beside her ear, his breath warm against her neck as he bit the skin softly. There was no denying she was his, her soul forever branded by his sinful devotion; the princess would never trust a kinslayer twice over, but she couldn’t help but love him.

“Vestragon ao’re ñuhon. (Say you’re mine.)” His voice was barely a whisper but it was as much a command as a plead.

“Vestragon ao’re nykeēdrosa ñuhon, gīda sepār syt kiza bantis. (Say you’re still mine, even just for tonight)”.

“Nyke aōhon. Ēva tubis ōños. (I am yours. Until daylight)”. She answered, lips trembling as the words escaped her.

A primal possessiveness engulfed the one eyed prince, the part that had always longed for her roaring in victory. At that very moment, he felt that there was nothing in this world that he would not do for her. He took her mouth in another kiss, their tongues clashing in a more feral and desperate manner. Aemond lifted her, his calloused hands digging into her plump arse as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her fingers gripped at his silver locks, his sudden responde sending waves of languor across her limbs. He moved her onto the cloak that was on the ground, the velvety sand welcoming her weight over the fabric as he covered her body with his.

Aemond continued his path of kisses down her body, his hands wandering over her breasts and waist and his mouth leaving more marks in its path. He could feel Aelora shudder in anticipation, her hips arching against his as he moved closer to her core, the air heavy with the scent of her nectar. He halted, taking in the sight of her before him. It had been so long — too long — since he had laid eyes upon her like this, and he relished in the way she already looked completely wrecked by his touch alone. The prince finally reached his ultimate goal, his lips finding her mound as he licked a stripe across the sensitive flesh. He let out a low moan at the taste of her sweet ambrosia on his tongue, a loud whimper emanating from her lungs in response.

The young woman’s hair laid carelessly on the ground, grains of sand intertwining into the brown mess as she arched her back in pleasure. She cried out as he grabbed her thighs, spreading her further apart and burying his face between her legs, his tongue exploring her in ways she had missed for many moons. He could not get enough of her, his lips and tongue trailing silent prayers over her most sensitive spot as his name left her lips. She felt her walls clench as he barged inside her cunt with a long finger, adjusting to the once familiar feeling. Shivers ran down her spine in satisfaction as Aemond synchronized his movements, the overwhelming pleasure bringing stars to her eyes.

A lilac eye never left her face, watching every expression that played across her features. Her mouth parted in pleasure, each gasp and moan fueling the fire of the prince’s own arousal. He had longed to see her like this, writhing underneath him, his name on her lips and his touch on her skin. The memories of her had haunted him in his nights alone, but now, in this moment, he was finally able to worship her like the god given treasure that she was.

Aelora's cries grew more intense, her hips bucking against Aemond's skilled mouth as pleasure mounted within her. Her thighs trembled slightly, its muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that was quickly approaching. Each touch and movement only served to bring her closer to the precipice of pleasure.

A loud cry echoed through the cavern as she climaxed, her body shuddering and her fingers digging into the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor herself. As the waves of ecstasy washed over her, she felt as though she had been transported to another realm. The connection between them was somehow stronger than it had ever been before, their souls dancing to a passionate melody.

When Aelora finally gasped for air, the prince slowly moved up from her core, his body hovering over hers. He watched as she recovered from the rapture he had given her with a dark and vainglorious smirk. With his elbow holding himself over her, he pulled her leg to rest on his hip as his eye scanned her features. Her hand moved to cup his cheek, the tip of her finger caressing his reddened scar as she furrowed her brows.

“Nyke gaomagon regret ziry. Skoros nyke vestretan se mōrī jēda. (I do regret it. What I said the last time.)” She apologized, regret brimming in her brown orbs.

Aemond leaned into her touch, his good eye closing at the gentle touch of her hand against his skin, it felt nearly as soothing as a balm to his weary heart. The mention of the title she had bestowed upon him sent a chill through his spine, his monstrous behavior had earned the words even if they had maimed him. His face turned to press a soft kiss into her palm, before opening his eye to look at her again.

“It is of no importance.” His voice was rough and low as he spoke.

Aelora softly tugged at the straps of his eyepatch, earning a trembling exhale from him in response. The touch of her delicate fingers on his malady sent a wave of fear through his spirit. She removed piece of leather, revealing the puckered, scarred skin where his eye had once been. He found himself unable to look at her for a moment, the feeling of vulnerability consuming him in the dim light of the cave. The princess looked deeply into the sapphire gem in his socket, tenderness engulfing the kiss she placed upon it.

Aemond's touch was gentle as he took her lips in his, not waiting for her response as he gripped her hip and turned her on her stomach. His eye roamed over the expanse of her back, tracing his fingers over the smooth surface of her skin, leaving a trail of gentle caresses in its path. It was a stark contrast to the frenzied way he had touched her previously, this touch was far more tender, almost reverent in nature. His body pressed against hers as the length of his manhood rested on the small of her back, buring into her skin. He leaned down, his mouth finding her ear as he moved closer.

“Azantys ñuha sindigho, issa vēzos. (I have missed you desperately, my sun)”. His breath was warm against her skin as he whispered.

Aelora arched her back as she felt the tip of his cock breeching her dampened slit, her knees propping her hip upwards in search of contact. His arm reached under her, squeezing one of her peaks as he fully entered her. The pair let out breathless moans as Aemond moved against her, leaving no time for her adjustment. The sting of pain she felt had been nothing compared to the ecstasy of his length inside her, finding herself unable to focus on anything but the feeling of being around him.

The prince’s thrusts grew harder, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both frenzied and yet somehow controlled. Her moans and sighs filled the air, his own breaths coming quick and sharply as he took her with a wild abandon. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on the soft flesh as his hands buried into her hips.

“Avy jorrāelan. (I love you)” Aelora murmured between ragged moans, her hand reaching to grasp his hair.

His eye widened slightly at her words, a thrill rushing through him at having heard them coming from her lips once again. His lips found the base of her jawline, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. His cock kept reaching further into her cunt as their flesh moved together with a rhythmic thrust, like the rise and fall of waves on the shore.

“Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond mumbled repeatedly in between thrusts, his words a fierce declaration of their love. He continued moving inside her, his heart racing in his ribcage as his pleasure overcame physical bounds.

Every thing about this moment was singled out from any other they had shared. The grief, pain and betrayal that coursed through their marriage dissipated amongst the dragon fire that burned within the pair. It all faded away, and all that was left was this, the feel of her skin against his, the sound of his muffled whimpers in her ear, the desperate way he repeated her name over and over. This moment felt like the calm in the middle of a storm, a rustle of the ashes of their love.

Aemond could feel his peak building, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased the pleasure he sought. His breaths came out in ragged pants, mingling with the sounds of her gasps in the air as his length clashed inside her. Aelora sensed the twitching of his manhood, threatening to spill his release inside her walls. The mere thought tightened the knot that had formed in her belly, reaching the edge of her desire.

Aemond sent a few more thrusts into the brown haired woman underneath him before both found their release simultaneously, their movements slowing as they both rode out of the ecstatic trance that washed over them. The prince’s face was buried in Aelora’s neck, a guttural moan escaping him at the force of his own pleasure. Her body shivered at the feeling of his seed drowning her cunt, pearly tears streaming down her leg as she whimpered.

The lovers stayed silent in an adoring embrace after he disconnected their bodies, a wave of comfort washing over them. For a while they simply laid there, basking in the afterglow of their passion, their frames entwined in a tangle of limbs. It was a strange sort of peace, one that they both knew wouldn't last once the sun rose — but for the moment, they were content. The night stretched on, each hour passing in a blur of whispered words and slow hands. Aemond and Aelora clang to one another, as if they could melt into one if they only held tightly enough. The threat of daylight and the inevitable parting loomed over them like a dark cloud on the horizon, anguish settling inside their hearts.

As the hour of the nightingale approached over their secret sanctuary, the prince and princess began to break away from the blissful haven that enveloped them. There were no words to be spoken as they both dressed silently, the sound of rustling fabric and soft breaths filling the air between them. The weight of war and the knowledge that this moment was fleeting hung heavily in the air. Aemond felt a pang in his chest as he looked towards her, a mute wish in his heart that they could stay like this. To be locked in this moment forever, away from the world that demanded so much from them. But he knew that was not possible. Soon, they would have to return to their duties and obligations — this feeling would become nothing more than a memory.

As they stood before each other fully clothed, their eyes met in a bereaved gaze — sorrow for the love they shared engulfing them. Aelora stepped closer to him, holding his hand softly, almost in a cowardly manner. She had no words for the man who was her everything, the man who had her in every way possible, and she was ashamed of it. His free hand moved hesitantly to hold her cheek, his eye flickering over her face, taking in every feature. He wanted to burn the image of her into his mind, to remember every detail about her, down to the smallest freckle on her nose. His thumb traced her soft skin as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, as if to say “I will be with you forever”. Tears began to form at the corners of her brown orbs as she abandoned his touch. The sound of the rustling sand underneath her feet echoed through the cave as she reached its entrance, her form never escaping his stare.

She halted at the stone archway, her silhouette framed by the soft silver light of the moon. The night air was cool on her skin as she turned to look back at Aemond, the feel of their passion still lingering in the air. For a moment, they simply stood there, eyes meeting in the darkness. She ached to say something, to find the words to convey the maelstrom of emotions that raged within her. In the end, she simply smiled, bittersweet and knowing.

“Should we meet on the battlefield, I can’t hesitate.” Her voice came out a whisper.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you.” She repeated, to herself or to him — Aemond didn’t know.

The prince’s breath had grown a little shallow at her words, a frown forming on his face. The idea of their next encounter being on the battlefield, facing off against each other like enemies was a thought that pained him, even though he knew it was a possibility. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t hesitate either, that he would fight her with everything he had if they ever met in battle, but the words stuck in his throat. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.

Once again, she left him. Aemond would be a King without a Queen, half of his soul forsaken in his search for power. It had to be worth it.

Bur they wouldn’t meet again, not in the context of war or any other.

She would meet her demise alongside her brother in the Battle of The Gullet. Fighting hard like a Strong, dying besides her dragon like a Targaryen and laying to rest at sea like a Velaryon.

He would grow mad at her perishing, ire overcoming his every sense. And he would eventually be slayed by her stepfather at The Battle Above God’s Eye.

Their love was epic, a fierce tale of forbidden passion that would never be written about inside history books. The only legacy they would leave behind had been scribbled onto a stone wall years before.

A.T. & A.V.

---

Taglist: @onlyrealjoy @siriusblackssun @adombtch

[shinysobi]

"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.

we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.

penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.

colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)

colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.

idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejection. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.

in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.

[contumacious-arcadia]

Hello! I'm aware there is a lot of discontent around shipping Alastor with anyone since it's been stated that he is an asexual character and I would also like to throw my two cents out into the void pertaining to the issue. I *really* like radioapple. My lizard brain spouted "they gon' fuck" as soon as I saw "Dad Beat Dad". I find it super charming and enemies-to-lovers is naturally hella entertaining in my opinion - so I started reading radioapple fics and **they may have actually taught me something about myself. ** I'm on the older side (37), and have always just referred to myself as bisexual. I never really considered anything else because when I was younger and learning my own identity, all of the super specified language just wasn't available to me. It didn't really cross my mind to reexamine those conclusions as time passed, because I was under the impression (as many others also seem to be) that asexual meant "ABSOLUTELY ZERO SEX OR SEX-ADJACENT THINGS FOREVER, NO, NYET, NINE" and aromantic meant "ABSOLUTELY DEATHLY ALLERGIC TO ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS, NEVER EVER, NOPE". ...I am definitely not the only one, as this does seem to be the sticking point people argue about when shipping Al with literally anyone. After reading many, many radioapple fics written by people within the asexual and aromantic spectrums, I feel like I've gotten a better handle on the categorization and shockingly (to me, at least) it seems *I* am actually also very aromantic and moderately touch averse (though I would not consider myself asexual). Who would have thunk that fanfic would teach me a very important fact about myself? It was like I was given a key to understanding why my relationships are always so troubled and why I seem to HATE being in relationships, despite repeatedly diving back into them. I literally give each new partner a whole-ass speech about how *incredibly* uncomfortable overly romantic crap makes me feel and how if they start badgering me/guilting me about the whole 'love' concept incessantly, I will likely freak out and end the relationship... and EVERY TIME they pull that crap and then try to guilt me by claiming that they "didn't think I was serious". If I had the language to explain I was aromantic and touch averse (when not specifically gettin' down), I think I could have avoided a lot of damage. Maybe. Anyway, I just wanted to state that shipping an ace or aro/ace character and writing fanfic that actually explains their thought process and feelings can be a SUPER beneficial thing. I don't know why it wasn't obvious to me that nothing is ever 100% black and white, but again, I don't seem to be the only person who believed that. I would gently urge some of the fans who are hardcore (and vocally) *against* shipping Al with anyone to read some of the fics and maybe it can help them adjust their perspective a bit too - just like it helped me. BUT - this *IS* the internet, so if you just want to shout angrily into the void, you can do that too! Two cents complete.

[sexyandhedonistic]

How to Become the Most Iconic It Girl in Your Reality

A Guide to Bring Your Dream Self to Life

“You are already that which you want to be, and your refusal to believe this is the only reason you do not see it.” Feeling is the Secret Ch. 1

I. Introduction ✧

Hello, my loves! This guide will help YOU become the person you have always dreamt of being as the starring role of your reality. We’re going to cover so much so I hope you’re ready to bid farewell to the person you used to be and get ready to transform into the most desirable version of yourself yet. Whether you aspire to be an it girl, it boy, it person or it god, whatever your preferred title is, if you desire to be other than what you currently are, this guide is for you.

Note: this was written through a law of assumption lens so if you’re looking for a glow up post that tells you to eat fruit and cut off toxic people this is not the one. If you haven’t read my guide about the law of assumption or are new to it I strongly recommend you read that one first before reading further, as everything written later on will make much more sense that way.

A. What’s to come.

The comprehensive purpose of this guide is to help you become the person you have always dreamt of being and to remind you that you no longer need to be unhappy with who you are because you get to create your own reality, meaning that you get to define yourself. Not your environment, not your peers, you. Your upbringing may have persuaded you of the fact that you are undeserving of anything you could ever desire, but you don’t need to go another day feeling insecure, unloved and miserable. Life is your creation. The days of you being confined to the image others have imposed unto you are a thing of the past now.  I don’t know who you were before you opened this guide but that person isn’t you anymore. From this point on, you have been an icon from BIRTH.

B. Breaking down the terms “iconic” and “it”.

Before we start, let’s define what an iconic it girl is first.

To be iconic means to be impactful. What makes an icon an icon is the fact that they don’t live up to standards or expectations because they live by their own rules and are not afraid to deviate from the conventional. The difference between an icon and a non-icon is that icons aren’t all talk, they ARE about it. 

“It” refers to a prominent and commendable quality in an individual that evokes intrigue and admiration, especially one that makes said individual spectacular or exceptional. The it factor is subjective because different qualities instigate intrigue across different people. In the case of this guide, the IT factor will ultimately be up to you to define.

If we fuse both terms together with the law of assumption in mind, an iconic it girl is one who’s in total control of her reality. She’s a sovereign, she’s above everything and everyone and nothing can cause her to waver in her conviction. She’s the center of the universe and nothing can ever challenge that thought in her head. She calls the shots and she does what she wants. An iconic it girl is a trend setter. She doesn’t follow trends nor standards, she creates them. Nobody tells her what she can or can’t do and nobody tells her who she is because she has an established conception of herself.

C. Why be an it girl?

It girls tend to be the girls you either want to be or be with because they seem to have it all: wealth, beauty, sex appeal, allure, social circle, relationship, achievements and/or an interesting lifestyle. You see these girls on social media and you covet the lives they lead but you feel suppressed by your current circumstances because reality conditions your desires. If you want to change your appearance, you must be rich and if you want to be rich, you must work hard. If you want to be extroverted, you must change your personality and if you want to change your personality, you must step out of your comfort zone. That’s the reality of life because life operates by logic. But, guess what? You are not limited to what we once accepted to be the “reality of life”. We are infinite beings capable of everything we could ever desire in this world. Anything someone else is or has can also be you/rs and in this guide I’ll explain how you can.

Now that we have established what an iconic it girl is and why we can aspire to be one, we will now proceed with HOW to do it and more importantly, where it all starts.

II. Conception ✧ of self.

“It is our conception of ourselves which frees or constrains us.” - No One To Change But Self

Self concept is how you see yourself in relation to the world and how you see the world in relation to you. All the assumptions you carry about the two comprise your conception of self, which as a result fashions the experiences you have in your world. From the way people treat you to the way you treat yourself, all of it has originated from your assumptions which harvested your state which has become part of your consciousness (what you know to be a fact at this very moment). Whether your goal is to manifest being an it girl or anything else, it always goes back to changing your self concept first, which is nothing more than a state.

A state is an attitude of mind comprised of beliefs (assumptions) and when we desire to change our self concept, we adjust our state of consciousness. You may not feel exceptional nor as if you have the it factor as of right now and that is credited to the contents of your state of consciousness. If you want to become an iconic it girl, you must first change your state into one of an it girl. How do you change states? Through feeling, by I AM.

A. I AM.

“I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being.”- Your Faith Is Your Fortune Ch. 6

I AM is a declaration of self through what you are aware of being. You are incapable of speaking about yourself unless your statement begins with I AM. Manifesting becoming an it girl is not about acquiring something, it is about being the person who has that something through whatever comes after I AM:

I have money -> I AM [in the state of being] wealthy

I have perfect grades -> I AM [conscious of being] a stellar student

I have a partner -> I AM in a relationship

“Become identified with that character and feeling and you will be amazed how quickly you will realize your dream. The only sacrifice you are called upon to make, is to give up your present concept of self and appropriate the desire you want to express.”

B. EIYPO.

"Blind man sees the world objective to himself, something detached from himself. When man begins to awake he sees everything subjectively related; everything he meets is part of himself, and what he does not now understand, still he knows that it is related by affinity to some as yet unrealized force in his own being." - The Pruning Shears of Revision

Everyone is you pushed out accounts for the notion that whatever we think or assume of ourselves is pushed out into the world and reflected back to us. This means that the people around you will see you the way you see yourself and treat you accordingly. We manifest 24/7 through our established assumptions, so whether you have accepted as a fact that you are loved by everyone you meet or you aren’t very likable, your circumstances will evince that. However, that is not to say you are not entitled to feel upset when someone disrespects you. Although this may be a difficult truth to accept, the purpose of acceptance of it is to feel and realize that we are above what people say or how they treat us rather than to feel inferior because of it. So, how do we take this concept into consideration when we aim to become an it girl? We simply accept it as yet another facet of our realities that we are in control of. How do you get people to stop seeing you as the person you no longer want to be anymore? By changing self first. When you begin to see yourself as an it girl, the world will see you as one as well.

"There is no one to change but self. All you need to do to make men and women holy in this world is to make yourself holy. You are incapable of seeing anything that is unlovely when you establish within your own mind's eye the fact that you are lovely."- No One To Change But Self

III. Imagination ✧ Optimize your creative power.

“Everything in your world that you behold, though it appears without, it is within, in your imagination. And this wonderful imagination of yours is Christ Jesus. Imagination is the actual habitation of every created thing. No matter what you see in the world, it springs from your imagination. So that's where you go, that's the workshop, the garden of God.” - The Pruning Shears of Revision

A wonderfully comforting aspect of the law of assumption is that we all possess the inalienable gift that is to be able to grant upon ourselves whatever it is we desire to have, do or be. No matter what it is that you want, be it factual or fictional, existent or nonexistent, you can have anything. It is possible to become the person you have always wanted to be due to the lack of limitations in imagination. If you can think it, you can become it. Whether you desire to look like someone, have a relationship that mirrors the one in your favorite k-drama with your celebrity crush or be exactly like your comfort character, I could go on and on with examples of whatever it is you can have, do or be because when I tell you that you are a limitless being, I mean it wholeheartedly.

I must emphasize and drive this point home. All is possible in the world. Every possible desired life aspect you could ever fantasize about in your imagination exists because creation is finished. Whether it’s your dream home, career, income, accomplishments, possessions, relationship, friend group, physique, personality, lifestyle whatever it is you dream of having is possible to be conscious of because there are a myriad of states for us to choose from. That state already exists like a suit that is waiting for you to wear it until it becomes a natural part of your consciousness.

Because of this, it naturally makes sense to acknowledge that we no longer need to be neither humble nor jealous of another. If we know we can have absolutely anything in the world, even something already in the possession of another, why would we?

With our wonderful human imagination on our side, we can transcend the limitations that surround us. Whether you desire to get accepted into an ivy league university two years early with a 2.1 GPA or eat endlessly without gaining a single pound and jeopardizing your health, your limitless self is capable of becoming conscious of it and more, so let your imagination run free devoid of any restrictions when you define your it girl. The presentation of any circumstances do not and will never matter. To be is as simple as asking yourself whether or not you want to be it.

IV. Inspiration ✧ Defining your it girl.

Now we’re getting to the fun part of this post because you get to use your creative power: imagination. Remember a few sections ago when we discussed what the IT factor is? This is where you get to determine what IT is. Let me remind you again, your idea of what an it girl is is subjective, so it won’t be exactly like someone else’s definition. It girl is not a mold in which you are expected to fit into. Whether you want an active socialite nepo baby city life or a secluded pastry-making book-reading cottagecore life, doesn’t matter. This is all about who you desire to be. With that, let’s get down on how to determine what your it girl self looks like.

A. Who do you want to be like?

What qualities in a person would make you perceive someone as admirable or inspiring? Hard work? Being multifaceted? Do they have a personality you wish you had?

Think of people you deem iconic or who you look up to and why you perceive them as such. Are they someone who’s successfully pursued a personal goal of yours? Is their career full of achievements?

Don't condense your inspirations to people, you can also take fictional characters into consideration. Whether it’s Maddy from Euphoria, Blair from Gossip Girl or Pooja from Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, think of the characters from your favorite films and tv shows for more ideas.

You can also consider some of the most popular archetypes across social/media such as the femme fatale, the socialite, the siren, the beauty and brains, any archetype that possesses a lifestyle or aura that you would like for yourself can also be taken into consideration.

B. Which trains would you like to possess?

Beautiful, magnetic, mysterious, seductive, desirable, alluring

Extroverted, fun, trend setter, admired, confident, charismatic

Intimidating, unapologetic, bold, unique, center of attention, 

Kind, soft spoken, empathetic, nurturing, humanitarian

Intelligent, articulate, ambitious, hedonistic, successful, perfectionist 

C. What are some interesting qualities/assumptions about you?

Always the life of the party

Speaks multiple languages

Excels at everything on the first try

Has a commanding presence

Loved by everyone and full of admirers

Everyone you develop an interest in always pursues you

People find you alluring and inspiring

Bearer of the Halo effect - receives advantages and special treatment just for being gorgeous 

Mastered or proficient in a specific subject/sport/language/instrument

Art connoisseur / literature, films, fashion, music, photography

Knowledgeable across different subjects / history, science, interior design, fragrances, wine, etc.

Knowledgeable in sophisticated fields / law, politics, economics, finance

Expert at a specific hobby or activity / chess, bridge, painting, sculpting, skating, singing, dancing

Skilled at / sewing, cooking, baking, knitting, makeup, styling, coding

D. Combine it.

Once I had an idea of what I wanted my new self to be like , I would refer to scenes in tv shows when a character is being introduced in third person as if they’re reading a profile about them. They don’t just name the character, they’ll list their background, their personality, what they do, what their interests are, etc. and then twist this for myself and imagine how I would like another person to describe me. I’ll list an example of what that would look like below:

[Note: to stay on theme I will be providing an it girl example, make this your own!]

One word to describe her? Extraordinary, but she’s too much to even conceptualize in a single word that it almost feels disrespectful to her. She either inspires you to be at her level or mortifies you for not being at her level. She's influential and enticing, opulent and godly. She has sky-high standards and smells like Tobacco Vanille. She always gets what she wants and doesn’t take no for an answer.  She studies hard in the daytime and attends prestigious social gatherings in the nighttime. She’s a polymath with an IQ of 168 who knows a little about every subject. Whether it’s foreign languages, interior design, pastry making or art, she’s full of knowledge and constantly teaches you something new. She’s innovative and always formulating progressive ideas which also makes her a trendsetter.  Whatever she does whether it’s a hobby or putting an outfit together she always owns it in her own unique manner. Because of that, her presence captures the attention of everyone in the room without her even saying a word. Her magnetic aura and sultry gaze make her irresistible to anyone who locks eyes with her. Men go crazy over her even though they know she’d never look twice at them. She’s witty and fun to be around.  She’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met before. In fact, you could copy her personality and style down to a T and you still would not be able to capture her essence. You can’t get her out of your head because her beauty, passion and determination make her unforgettable. 

Now that you have an idea of who your new self is, let’s talk about how to dump the old self.

V. Immolation ✧ Say goodbye to the old story forever.

“Man is not willing to outgrow, [and] yet he wants other things than those he has. But if you remain in one state, you will forever have to suffer the consequences of not being in another state. (From the “Hermetica”). If I remain in the state of poverty, I must suffer the consequences of not being in the state of wealth.” - The Art of Dying

A. No one to change but self (concept).

“Heretofore I thought I could change others through effort. Now I know I cannot change another unless I first change myself. To change another within my world I must first change my concept of that other; and to do it best I change my concept of self. For it was the concept I held of self that made me see others as I did.” - No One To Change But Self

I started this guide with self concept for a reason. If you want to create a change in your life you must first begin with self . As within, so without. An inner change must precede an outer change because we do not experience what we want, we experience what we are. Any attempt to change our worlds without changing ourselves is a mere delusion because the world will forever reflect back to us that which we are conscious of being. You want the world to know that you’re an it girl? Feel yourself to be an it girl first.

B. Forgiveness.

“You must learn to distinguish between the eternal human who occupies a state, and the state itself. This is the only means to forgiveness.”  - True Forgiveness

Forgiving is forgetting and forgetting is letting go. When you are able to feel yourself to be who you want to be, you let go of who you used to be. You no longer have to be somebody you don’t want to be because a change of state is always instant. Every day is a new day and every moment is a new moment. If you are currently a miserable person and then you decide you are not then you are no longer a miserable person because you chose to not identify with it. You are not your state and you cannot be affixed to any state you don’t want to occupy. You will always have the option to embody any state you would like to occupy. You can shift that immediately through forgiveness and intention. Through forgiveness, you create the severance between the state you were formerly in and the state of an it girl. 

C. Regret no more. 

“Do not waste one moment in regret, for to think feelingly of the mistakes of the past is to re-infect yourself.” –  Feeling is the Secret

I’d like to take this moment to tell you that regret doesn’t need to be a thing anymore because you can revise the past. That hobby you wanted to pursue but gave up on? Your GPA that you can’t go back and fix? The best friend you miss? Do you remember when you wanted to start drawing but then you stopped? Or when you did ballet when you were younger and never continued? Remember when you started learning Spanish and then gave up? You don’t need to feel regretful anymore because you can revise all and reshape the past to be in harmony with the it girl that you are. Whether you wish you had grown up wealthy or with a specific skill which would later become your passion, absolutely every aspect of your life can be adjusted. There’s no need to resent the past because it is not set in stone.

D. Let go of the external.

I urge you to not let anything outside of you define you or your life. Whether it’s the tarot deck, the tea leaves or a birth chart, none of those sources have a say in what your life looks or will look like. There’s no such thing as a predetermined fate for you. Every single aspect of your world is malleable at your command, so give up the idea that there’s any other force in the world capable of interfering with your desires.

VI. Reincarnation ✧ The birth of a new you.

“You must this night – not tomorrow – learn the technique of writing your own obituary and so completely die to what you are that no man in this world can tell you where you buried the old man.” - Consciousness is the Only Reality

A. A newly acquired mentality.

It’s time to step into your power and see yourself as the GOD that you are. You no longer need to live by the limitations the world has convinced you exist. You don’t need to do or be anything/one you don’t want to do/be and more importantly you do not need to settle for anything that doesn’t live up to your expectations. If you don’t like something, it doesn’t need to be a thing. Think about it being as simple as blocking someone, you are not gonna annoy me in MY reality.  Starting today, you get to decide who you want to be and who or what gets to be a part of your life. Again, this is YOUR world, YOUR reality and everyone else is simply living in it. Why should you ever worry your gorgeous self about anything not going your way if this is your world? You’re the one on the pedestal and whatever you say must go. 

Imagine telling a person exactly that, This is your world and everyone else is simply living in it. We are at such a huge advantage with the law of assumption because you don’t even need to be concerned with the course of action, you just need to focus on being (I AM). When you talk to people through the confidence of knowing that every single one of your goals is absolutely achievable, because through the law of assumption they always are and always will be, it is very easy to appear as confident to the average doubtful person. Everyone around you carries the idea with them that failure and rejection are always possibilities. You’re not like them, though. You’re completely limitless. You can excel at whatever career you want to pursue, you can date anyone you point your finger at, you can possess all of the riches the world has to offer and there’s no need to be humble about it. You are THE it girl, after all, are you not? All we’re stating is facts.

B. You cannot serve two masters.

“If you are dissatisfied with your present expression in life the only way to change it, is to take your attention away form that which seems so real to you and rise in consciousness to that which you desire to be. You cannot serve two masters, therefore to take your attention from one state of consciousness and place it upon another is to die to one and live to the other.” - At Your Command Ch. 2

In other words, you cannot sustain two polarizing states at once and you cannot take any part of the old state into the new state. If you want change, you must be loyal to it. You must be so committed to it that you have no space to even consider the old story because it doesn’t matter in the slightest anymore. Fall in love with your new state of consciousness that you are willing to be devoted to it no matter what. Leave the old in the past so the new can take its place.

C. Feeling the wish fulfilled.

“You must assume that you are what you want to be and continue therein, for the reality of your assumption has its being in complete independence of objective fact and will clothe itself in flesh if you persist in the feeling of the wish fulfilled” - The Power of Awareness Ch. 21

Capturing the feeling of the wish fulfilled is utterly essential, no matter what it is that you desire to manifest because the process will always be the same. First we must assume ourselves to be that which we desire to be through I AM and we persist in it independent of the objectiveness of our world until we are one with our new state.

The moment you successfully attain that feeling and continue to live by it, the direction of your attention will continue to focus on the implications of its fulfillment. That is, when you start to accept yourself as an it girl, the scenes that would suggest its consummation will make their way into your imagination, and if you persist in them they will inevitably become part of your state of consciousness.

VII. Invocation ✧ How to become it.

“When you pray, do not get down on your knees and pray to any unknown God. Instead, go to bed and dare to assume you are now who you want to be. Fall asleep assuming it is true and you will be on the road to success, for this is how things are brought into being.” - Brazen Impudence

A. SATS + lullaby.

I have an extensive post about the state akin to sleep which I highly suggest you read for further clarification as well as how I like to use the SATS. I’ll leave the instructions below:

The first step is to define your objective. Have a clear idea of what it is you would like to be (or be in possession of).

Next, ask yourself, “what does the end of that goal look like?” For example, if you would like to manifest a prestigious job opportunity, you’d be congratulated on it. If you’d like to manifest a change in appearance, you would receive compliments (It doesn’t need to include another person, but you may find it more helpful in order to feel it more real). Whatever the end looks like, it must always be an event that implies its fulfillment, that it is done. This is the wish fulfilled.

Get into a comfortable position. You can lay down or sit upright, it doesn’t matter, do whatever feels most comfortable.

Relax. You can do some breathing exercises, listen to music, have a warm drink, whatever it is that makes you relax. 

Induce a moderate degree of drowsiness where you can still concentrate on the wish fulfilled, but be sure to not feel too drowsy where you find it difficult to focus. When you feel like you could move but you don’t want to (because you’re too comfortable), that’s when you’ll know you’re in the state akin to sleep.

Construct a scene that implies the fulfillment of your desire by making elsewhere here and then now, then feel it real by incorporating your senses into it and imagine yourself being present within your imaginal scene from your perspective. Confine your scene to a single action. If your scene implies that you have received wonderful news, do not wander off in your visualization by doing a thousand irrelevant things afterwards, simply stick to the congratulations and mentally feel yourself being present in your scene. Repeat the scene until it takes on the tones of reality. [A tip from Edward Art: Focus on feeling it real (feeling the wish fulfilled) first and then the sensory aspects of your scene will follow]

If you find it difficult to focus on a scene and feel it real or if you simply cannot conceptualiza what the end would even look like, follow steps 1 through 4 and do the following: condense the fulfillment to three words or less and repeat them over and over again until your mind is dominated by the single sensation of thankfulness. Meditate on this phrase until you accept it as a fact.

¹ Visualization ideas.

Your scenes will vary depending on what life you want to live. You can change your scenes every time you visualize during the SATS so long as they all imply the same end. What would imply that you are an it girl? Being interviewed? Walking down a red carpet? Men dropping their jaws when you pass by? For ideas, consider what activities would comprise a day in your it girl life.

² The lullaby method.

"Remain there until you feel its certainty, until you reach the point of satisfaction, until you are convinced of its truth; and although the world may collapse around you, you will become that which you have assumed you are." - An Inner Conviction

If you would like to try out the lullaby method, some three word phrases you could use are: I’m that girl/person, I have everything, It is done, I’m so happy, I AM (__), etc.

B. Mental diets.

“Feast on the idea, become identified with the idea as though you were already that embodied state. Walk in the assumption that you are what you want to be. If you feast on that and remain faithful to that mental diet, you will crystallize it. You will become it in this world.” - Thinking Fourth Dimensionally

Mental diets aren’t particularly necessary since they can imply that you need to be monitoring your thoughts constantly. However, objectively being conscious of them can help you determine what state you are currently occupying. If you would like to indulge in a mental diet you can do so by asking yourself the following questions:

Is this what I would want someone else to say or think about me?

Would my it girl think this thought?

I would also like to briefly recall that thoughts alone don’t hold power unless you accept them as facts. You can have intrusive thoughts and joke all you want about how you’re ugly but unless you persist in that and feel them to be true it will not manifest.

C. Inner conversations.

"What are you saying at every moment of time? Watch it; be careful what you are saying, because your whole vast world is this inner conversation pushed out." - Control Your Inner Conversations

I urge you to stop internally berating yourself or imagining someone speaking negatively about you. Pay attention to the perpetual inner conversation you hold with yourself: “I’m not good at math”, “my friends always make plans without me”, “I’m so awkward”, because what you say and believe about yourself is what you will continue to face in the third dimension. Instead, think about the lovely remarks you’d like others to say about you and mentally hear them say them. You can also try vaunting which is the practice of constructing a conversation in which you brag from the wish fulfilled. You can turn to the example I used of being described in third person by someone else and speak from first person instead (I AM).

D. Revision.

"At the end of my day, I review the day; I don't judge it, I simply review it. I look over the entire day, all the episodes, all the events, all the conversations, all the meetings, and then as I see it clearly in my mind's eye, I rewrite it. I rewrite it and make it conform to the ideal day I wish I had experienced. I take scene after scene and rewrite it, revise it, and having revised my day, then in my imagination I relive that day, the revised day, and I do it over and over in my imagination until this seeming imagined state begins to take on to me the tones of reality. It seems that it's real, that I actually did experience it and I have found from experience that these revised days, if really lived, will change my tomorrows. When I meet people tomorrow that today disappointed me, they will not tomorrow, for in me I have changed the very nature of that being, and having changed him, he bears witness tomorrow of the change that took place within me." - The Pruning Shears of Revision

Before you go to bed, revisit the occurrences of your day and when you recall an unfavorable one that challenges your it girl state of consciousness and rewrite it. Follow the steps for the SATS and construct a scene that would replace the unfavorable situation and convert it into a favorable situation.

E. Finish the day feeling the wish fulfilled.

"Do not let the sun descend upon any vexation of the day." - The Pruning Shears of Revision

This one is an absolute must. If you can help it, try to refrain from falling asleep in the assumption that you are not an it girl. If you are not feeling the wish fulfilled, take a few minutes to meditate on your state and then fall asleep feeling embraced by it and the relief of knowing that who you desire to be is who you already are (also known as the Sabbath).

VIII. Preservation ✧ How to sustain it.

"Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith!" - God’s Creative Power

A. Persistence.

“By desiring to be other than what you are, you can create an ideal of the person you want to be and assume that you are already that person. If this assumption is persisted in until it becomes your dominant feeling, the attainment of your ideal is inevitable.”  - The Power of Awareness Ch. 3

To briefly remind you, persistence means to remain obstinate with an intention regardless of difficulties or obstructions. When you are adopting a new state of consciousness, you may initially struggle to feel it real or even become impatient with its lack of manifestation in the third dimension, but you must keep returning to it no matter what.  You may waver and you may falter but if you remember to proceed with the embodiment of your it girl state by returning to it through any preferred means, no force and no power will cumber its realization.

B. Forget about time.

"The length of time between my desire and its conception depends entirely upon my inner conviction that it is done."- An Inner Conviction

Focusing on the “time” it takes for your state to feel natural to you will only hold you back and keep you in a cycle of waiting. Ask yourself what the end, or the actualization of being an it girl, looks like for you and live in it. Do not suppress yourself to what appears to be the present moment if it is not reflecting the end of your desires.  If you are concerned with “the time it’ll take”, then you are conscious of the opposite of your desires which means you are not feeling the wish fulfilled.

Always seek the wish fulfilled and abide by it until it blossoms into your world.

C. Disregard appearances.

"These appearances will continue in being as long as you give them life through your conscious awareness of them. You must disregard the evidence of your senses as it pertains to any undesirable condition in your life. You must Imagine and feel that you have already attained that which you want to experience rather than that which you do not want to continue in being. This may appear difficult, yet you have probably exercised this principle unconsciously to produce negative results." -  Imagination Creates Reality

Do not settle for less than you seek. You never need to compromise with whatever it is that you desire because as I have mentioned, all exists and all is possible. Reject anything that doesn’t confirm that you are an it girl and never take no for an answer. Be adamant. Decide on what it is that you want and regardless of the limitations of your environment, consent to its immersion to your state of consciousness. No matter what you see or hear, do not accept it if it is not what you want. If you continue to suppress the acceptance of your desires to your senses then that's where your consciousness will remain.

“You don't accept one thing in the world as final unless it conforms to the ideal you want to realize in the world.” - The Pruning Shears of Revision

D. You already are, not will be.

“That which you seek you already are, it can never be so far off as even to be near, for nearness implies separation.” - No One To Change But Self

Something we can learn from it girls is the following: it girls don’t care whether or not they’re it girls, they simply are. So although we are intentionally shifting our state of consciousness, remember to not approach this with a trying mindset or the idea that you will become when you already are, because the use of the word “will” implies that you currently are not. As I’ve said before, “you can’t try to be someone you already are”. Whatever the wish fulfilled looks like for you, accept it at this very moment. Go straight to the end and bathe in it, rejoice in the fulfilled prayer as you go about your day and remain faithful to that inner conviction.

E. Reject the possibility of failure.

“Don’t be anxious or concerned as to results. They will follow just as surely as day follows night.” - Your faith is your fortune Ch. 21

Your desires are literally a guarantee. You can bring absolutely anything into being if you proceed with your intention in spite of what you experience in the flesh. You possess a gift that no one will ever be able to confiscate from you and that is your imagination. Intentional use of this gift will bring forward the beautification of your world in means you would not have been able to devise. Do not become an impediment in your journey by concerning yourself with the means, for they are never your responsibility. If you are serious and willing to assume in your favor, the mountains that need to move will move, the obstacles in the path towards heaven will be cleared and the people who need to play a role relative to its fruition will act accordingly without you having to do so much as lift a finger.

F. Apply.

“You must be doers of the law of assumption, for without application, the most profound understanding will not produce any desired result.” - The Power of Awareness Ch. 18

It is not enough for you to read the entirety of this guide without intending to put the instructions in it to use. You could read and listen to every document, every book and every lecture out there that tells you exactly how to manifest your desires but unless you take that information and put it to use, it was all acquired in vain. This post was long and detailed, do not let it go to waste by refusing to apply and persist. Wanting to do it is not enough, you must DO IT through persistence and a disciplined mind. Do not let the day in which you are reading this post to come to an end without acknowledging that you are an it girl now, not will be, you are. Plant the seed today and you will reap the harvest tomorrow.

"Your assumption, to be effective, cannot be a single isolated act, it must be a maintained attitude of the wish fulfilled." - The Power of Awareness Ch. 22

G. Calm reminders

I’m sure some of these concerns may have risen at some point so I will clear them up right now: acting as if is not necessary, neglecting your current circumstances and pretending they are not occurring is not necessary and being happy all the time is also not necessary. It is okay if you fall out of your new state from time to time, do not think that there is such a thing as “losing progress” because you can never truly lose what is already in your possession. If you are dealing with difficult circumstances I strongly recommend you read this post: how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too.

IX. Motivation ✧ 

“I don’t care what it is; when you know what you want, you can make your desire so real, so natural that you will reach a feeling of certainty which no power in the world can stop. When that feeling is yours, drop it. Don’t ask anyone if what you did was right or wrong; you did it and that’s all that is necessary.” - An Inner conviction

If you are truly serious about becoming the it girl of your reality, you’ll have to be disciplined, determined, and persistent. You have to be willing to give up who you are right now in order to become who you want to be because the longer you entertain your old self, the longer you’ll postpone your dream self. You can decide at any moment to change, and if you are not actively working towards shifting your state of consciousness then you are consenting to its preservation. You accept what you tolerate, whether it’s mediocre friends, mediocre grades or a mediocre lifestyle and the only way to put an end to that is by intending to because it all starts with you. Do you want it enough? Are you willing to finally become an it girl or will you continue daydreaming about being an it girl? If you’re capable of being someone you don’t want to be, what makes you think you aren’t mutually capable of becoming someone you do want to be? Your it girl self is not far away from you, she already exists within your imagination and she is waiting for you to bring life to her. You already know everything you need to know in order to do it, so what’s stopping you? I know it can feel challenging because we feel confined to our current circumstances but I have so much faith in you and I know you have it in you to give yourself the world. You deserve to wake up every day feeling completely obsessed with yourself and your life. You don’t need to spend a minute longer hoping things that feel like they’re out of your control change if you know you are the one who’s in control. This is your reality, after all. Decide who you want to be and what life you want to lead, start showing up every day for it and remember to never accept anything that doesn’t live up to your standards. Dare to pursue everything you have ever wanted, all you need is faith the size of a mustard seed. 

X. Outroduction ✧

"Every dream could be realized by those self-disciplined enough to believe it."-  No One To Change But Self

And that concludes this guide! If there’s one takeaway you should carry with you from it it’s the following: you reserve the right to have high standards in regards to every aspect of your life, you deserve the partner of your dreams, the home of your dreams, the life of your dreams, you deserve all of it and more. Becoming an it girl doesn’t require a meticulous plan of action. All it takes is the use of imagination and discipline. You can realize your every dream. Whatever you want regardless of what it is or how unrealistic it sounds, you should demand more out of life and you should never settle for less than you desire, fantasize about or dream of, you can have it and you should have it. The world was made by you and for you so be self-willed and go for it. I have given you everything you need to know to become an it girl and all you have to do is apply. You’ve got this! Remember that you cannot fail, so when you succeed (notice how I didn't say if), I want to hear your success story. Until next time, mis amores!

Love always, your bestie Hera * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

“You can be the man (or woman) you want to be, but not by simply wishing. You must make the effort to look at the world mentally and see it reflect your fulfilled desire. And when it does you must remain in that state until you reach the inner conviction that what you are seeing, touching, tasting, smelling, and hearing is true, clothe yourself in the feeling of its reality - and explode! Do that and you are pregnant. And what do you do after pregnancy? Nothing! You simply wait for its birth to appear in its own appointed hour. And it will! When you least expect it your desire will objectify itself in the world for you to enjoy, whether it be health, wealth, or fame. That’s how God’s law works.” - An Inner Conviction

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 8: My Favorite Cowboy

Summary: After finding out things aren't going as planned with Javi's project on the ranch, you come over to help. You spend the day meeting Javi's dad, learning about the Peña ranch, and Javi surprising you with a night that you won't ever forget.

Word Count: 12.2K (I'm not sorry about it!!!)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but it's the most romantic smut I've ever written UGH), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/loss of a parent, Chucho Peña not letting his son have a moment of peace, Javi being a hot handsome cowboy, FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF Javi is a lovesick FOOL for you

A/N: Just when I thought I couldn't cram anymore in to this chapter, here we are. I wasn't planning on it ending the way it did but I literally just couldn't help myself because these two are so obsessed with each other that I'm not even mad about it. That's all I will say!!! As always, thank you so much for everyone who reads/commments/reblogs/is invested in this story, you all mean so much to me and appreciate all your kind words!!

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As you hung up the phone with Javi, the reality of your conversation hit you like a ton of bricks. Not only had you just volunteered yourself to go over to Javi’s ranch for the first time, you had also signed up to meet his dad, bring them food, and help with their project? Today was turning out to be a much bigger day than anticipated. Of course you had wanted to see the Peña ranch and meet Javi’s father. Those were two things you knew were both incredibly important to him. That’s why it made you so nervous. You liked Javi. You more than liked him. You wanted more than anything to make a good impression when you met his family, and now that impression depended on a sandwich and your ability to build a fence. 

Thankful you went to the grocery store yesterday, you stared at your fridge before collecting some lunch meat, cheese, and toppings. Unsure of what sandwiches the Peña men would want, you packed a cooler full of 10 different types, each labeled and wrapped in tinfoil, hoping there would be enough variety that they could find at least one they liked. You also threw in the rest of your chocolate chip cookies from last night, along with a bag of potato chips, a few cans of Coke and some bottles of beer. Staring at the cooler, you began to panic, fearing Javi’s dad was going to think you were a crazy person for showing up with so much food, but the thought of him thinking that you didn’t show up with enough was even more terrifying. Realizing that you had spent way longer than expected trying to perfect lunch, you quickly rushed to your room to try and pick out something to wear. Shuffling through your closet, you sighed to yourself, absolutely unsure of what to pick out. What the hell says I’ve missed my hot, sexy boyfriend, I’m excited to meet your dad for the first time, and I’m here to help you build a fence? Nothing. The answer is nothing. Knowing you were tight on time, you just had to go with the first outfit you pulled- denim shorts and a striped short sleeved t-shirt, throwing your hair half up in a clip, hoping to at least look semi-cute before you were a sweaty mess from the hot, Texan heat. Throwing on a little bit of makeup and a healthy dose of deodorant, you grabbed your purse, cooler, and Javi’s directions before heading out the door. 

You couldn’t have been more grateful that your AC was deciding to cooperate in your car today, 1- Because your nerves already had you sweating enough, and 2- the fear of losing Javi’s directions out the open window of your car would have sent you over the edge. You drove the first half of your journey in silence, your free leg bouncing rapidly as you triple checked each turn on the directions. You tried to tell yourself there was nothing to worry about. You were a likable person, right? You pleaded with your brain to cut it out with the “what-if” scenarios, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

What if his dad is annoyed you’re coming over? What if he’s mad about how much time Javi has been spending with you? What if he thinks that your sandwiches are the worst that he’s ever had in his life? What if he just doesn’t like you? Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. 

Your knuckles clenched the steering wheel, as you tried to think of something to snap you out of your stress. Pulling down your overhead visor, you plucked through the CD’s you had stashed up there, grabbing your favorite hype music you and your brothers played before every hockey game. Skipping through the first few tracks, you cranked up the volume as a loud “OI, OI, OI” blasted through the speakers. You weren’t really sure that T.N.T. by AC/DC was an appropriate song to settle your nerves before meeting your boyfriend’s dad for the first time, but by the end of the song, you felt a little more relieved. With only a few more turns left in your trip, you lowered your music and took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself as you found yourself on your last step of directions, making your way down a long, dirt road. Along both sides, the road was lined with bright green fields of farmland, the long grass gently swaying from the breeze. You passed a few ranches spread few and far between each other, turning your head as you drove by to make sure none of them were your destination. As you approached the 5th house on the right, according to Javi’s directions, you breathed a sigh of relief as you turned into the driveway, greeted by a weathered sign reading “Peña Ranch.” 

The nervous feeling in your gut began to build again, palms sweaty as you pushed against the steering wheel, parking behind Javi’s truck like he had asked on the phone. As you turned off the ignition, you sat in your car for a few moments, working up your courage before exiting, grabbing your cooler and heading down the remainder of the gravel driveway to the front door. Looking around, you were amazed by the beautiful acres of farmland that surrounded the quaint ranch in front of you. Bushes of beautiful flowers lined the front of the house, colorful roses and hydrangeas creeping just below the big windows glistening in the sunshine. As you stepped on to the porch, you noticed two rocking chairs set side by side, slowly moving back and forth from the wind. You took one last deep breath as your free hand tightened to a fist, getting ready to tap on the front door. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

Nothing. 

Knock, knock, knock. This time a little louder, more force behind your rapping knuckles. 

Still silent. 

“Hello?” you raised your voice slightly. 

No response. 

You stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. You weren’t just going to stand there like an idiot until someone came to answer, and you weren’t going to wander the property with a cooler full of sandwiches looking for Javi and his dad. You figured your next best bet was to try the door, hoping that maybe someone was inside and just hadn’t heard you. Hesitantly twisting the doorknob, you quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door behind you. 

Peeking through the doorway, you were greeted by the warm interior of the Peña home. The walls were painted in a soft, creamy beige, covered by pictures and portraits of who you assumed to be friends and family. The first picture in the entryway was of a beautiful woman who looked like she was laughing and dancing. She had long, dark curls and a vibrant smile, her laugh lines stretched across her cheeks. It couldn’t have been anyone besides Javi’s mother, their faces were practically identical. As you stepped further into the house through the living room, you found a picture of a baby in nothing but giant cowboy boots, hat, and diaper. You giggled to yourself, knowing that it had to be a little baby Javi, drowning in whoever had put him in full cowboy attire. 

“He was a cute baby, wasn’t he?” 

The voice behind you had scared you so badly, you practically jumped through the roof. 

“Oh, mija, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Chucho chuckled as you caught your breath. 

“Mr. Peña, I’m so sorry, I tried to knock and no one answered and I didn’t want to wander around and go anywhere I shouldn’t and I-” You fumbled over your words, flustered and embarrassed that the first time Javi’s dad ever saw you was staring at a picture of your boyfriend in a diaper. 

“Mija, sweetheart, please, call me Chucho. Señor Peña es mí papa. (Mr. Peña is my father.). You don’t need to apologize, that’s why the pictures are there, to be enjoyed. That one has always been one of my favorites.” He pointed back to Javi’s baby picture, you both laughing to yourselves. 

“He was a very cute baby.” You set down your things, outstretching your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chucho, I’m-“ 

Before you could finish, Chucho had already wrapped you in his arms, embracing you in a tight hug. He held you there for a few seconds, smiles both stretching across your faces. “I know who you are, mija. I am so glad to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you.” He leaned back from your hug, still holding the sides of your arms as his eyes glistened. “It has been so long since I have seen my Javier so happy. He absolutely lov-” 

“Pops! Give her some space, okay?” Javi’s familiar voice carried down the hallway behind you, cutting off the rest of his father’s sentence you were now very curious to hear the rest of. It didn’t take you long to become distracted by your thought, as Javi’s broad body strolled down the hallway, his gray t-shirt shirt clinging to his biceps, his sweat making his dark curls stick to his forehead. Even when he was a sweaty mess, he still looked delicious. 

“Relájate, hijo. Quería saludarme a mí futura nuera.” (Relax son. I just wanted to say hello to my future daughter in law.) Chucho’s smirk couldn’t have been any bigger, and Javi’s cheeks couldn’t have been any redder. 

“Pops, please stop.” Javi grumbled, obviously embarrassed. 

“What’d you say? Sorry, I’ve been trying to work on my Spanish since moving here.” You tried to politely interject, very curious as to what was making Javi so flustered. 

“Nothing, mija. Javier can tell you another time.” Chucho grinned, winking at his son as he rolled his eyes before burying his head in his hand. 

“Alright.” You smiled at Javi, his face still flushed. “Well, I have lots of food if you’re hungry! I brought sandwiches, if that’s okay.” You held up your cooler, gesturing to its contents. 

“Okay? More than okay, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m sure it is better than any lunch this old man could have thrown together. Javi, grab the cooler and some drinks, let’s head outside.” 

“Mr. Peñ-“ You paused, correcting yourself as Chucho grinned at you. “Chucho. Really, I don’t mind carrying it, it’s not that heavy. And there’s some Coke and beer in there already if you want some!” 

“Ella trajo cerveza? Ella te quiere mucho, Javier. La amo, tambien.” (And she brought beer? She really does love you, Javier. I love her too.)

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered under his breath. “Dad, please.” His voice a mix of firm and desperate. 

“Fine, fine.” He replied, swatting his hand at his son. “Gracias, mija. That was very kind of you.” 

“Of course.” You smiled as the three of you began walking through the kitchen and out to the back deck where a small picnic table sat in the shade of the overhang of the roof. The view from the back deck was breathtaking- miles of green pasture stretched across land, separated by a few lines of fencing housing sheep and cows to the right, and some horses to the left. “It’s absolutely beautiful here. Javi never told me how amazing it is.” You gave him a playful nudge as you sat down next to him, putting the cooler on the table and staring out in front of you. 

“Yeah, I don’t know, different when you see it every day, I guess.” Javi shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are you kidding? After living in a city for so long, I don’t think I’d ever get over waking up to this every morning. Beats ugly gray buildings and taxis any day of the week.” You turned around to see Javi quickly dart his eyes away, trying to play off the fact he hadn’t just been gawking at you for the past few seconds. 

“Thank you. I do love it here. Javier tells me you're from Chicago. Laredo must have been a big change for you, mija.” 

“I guess. I lived in the suburbs growing up so I wasn’t in the city my whole life. I actually had been to Laredo before I moved here, which is part of the reason why I picked it. My best friend came here in high school for her dad’s job and I would visit every summer. I always loved how peaceful it was. Don’t get me wrong, I love Chicago, but I absolutely love it here too.” You softly smirked at Javi, as his hand reached down to grasp your leg, rubbing his thumb along your knee under the table. “Please, have something to eat! I made a lot because I didn’t know what sandwiches you like, so hopefully there’s something in there you want.” 

Javi stood up to open the cooler and take out its contents, laughing and shaking his head as he saw what was inside. “Jesus Hermosa, were you planning on feeding an army today?” He started removing sandwich after sandwich, along with the rest of the cookies and chips.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know what people liked and-” You muttered, embarrassed by your excessive overpacking. 

“She is just like your mamá, Javier. Nunca puede tener demasiada comida. You can never have too much food, she would always say. Thank you, mija. It all looks wonderful.” 

You let out a small smile, relieved by his comment. “It’s the least I can do. I heard your project isn’t exactly going as planned so I wanted to do something small to help out.” 

“It’s been a shit show. Better now that you’re here.” Javi smirked. “Can you pass me the turkey sandwich? And a cookie? Wait, did you make these?” Pointing over to the ziploc bag the cookies were stored in. 

“Yeah, I made them yesterday. Had a feeling they were better here than sitting uneaten at my apartment.” You passed both items of food off to him. 

No surprise to you, Javi went straight for the cookie, taking a giant bite, not bothering to finish chewing before he spoke. “These are so fucking good.” 

“Javier, language! And chew with your mouth closed. You may have been raised on a ranch, but you weren’t born in a barn.” Chuchco scolded as you giggled. 

“Sorry.” He grumbled sheepishly. “They’re delicious, Osita. So is the sandwich.” he spoke before taking another mouthful. 

“Thanks, I had a feeling you’d like ‘em. So what can I help with after lunch is done? 

“Osita, I already told you, you don’t need to help with anything.” 

You crossed your arms, giving him a stern look. “You’re trying to tell me there’s not a single thing that I can help with? Nothing? Nothing at all?” 

“Well, I mean…” Chucho perked up, mid-bite on a handful of chips. 

“Dad. Seriously?” 

“What? She’s offering!” 

“I am, thank you, Chucho. See, listen to your dad, Javi.” You shrugged and raised an eyebrow at him defiantly. 

“Yes, Javier, listen to your father.” Chucho joined you in crossing his arms at his son, you and Chucho both laughing as Javi sighed. “Although I will agree with Javier on this one, mija. I have no doubt you are strong and willing to help, but I can’t ask you to help build this fence. Even with 6 grown men, this fence would have been hard to build. Although…”

“Pops, c’mon.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask her to help with the fence, Javier.” He swatted his hand at his son in annoyance. Chucho turned back to look at you. “Mija, have you gardened before?” This got Javi’s attention. He sat up a little straighter and leaned in to what his dad had to say. 

“Yes, actually! My mom had a garden of all kinds of things at our house when I was a kid. My brothers never wanted to take care of it because it was too girly, but I loved it.” 

Chucho let a soft smile creep across his face. “Perfect. Mija, the flowers around the house could use a little love. Watering, weeding, trimming down. I know it does not seem like a big job but it has been on my to-do list and I just haven’t gotten to it yet. Too much longer and it will be a jungle and too much for my old knees to handle on my own. Would you mind helping with that?” 

“Of course, I would love to!” You grinned, semi-relieved you weren’t going to have to embarrass yourself in front of Javi trying to pick up a post just to prove a point. 

“Bueno! These sandwiches were delicious, mija. Thank you, again. Let me show you where the tools are and then we will all be back to work.” 

You and Javi followed Chucho hand in hand to the small tool shed on the outside of the barn. He grabbed a bucket, placing a few items inside before handing it off to Javi, even though you insisted you could carry it. Chucho showed you his preferred method of clipping and trimming around the flowers, along with his favorite weeding shovel and where the hose was to water when you were done. The whole time you and Chucho were talking, Javi watched in silence, his heart bursting at the sight of you two milling around the garden. As Chucho finished with his directions, you turned back around to see Javi, wiping away what you assumed was just sweat from under his eyes. 

“I think I got it all! Thanks, Chucho!”

“Of course, honey. We are out in the far left pasture, so if you need anything, you can call Javi’s phone from the future on our perfectly good phone in the house.” 

“You have it out for cell phones, too? Must be a dad thing, mine is the same way. I’ll call if I need anything.” Chucho nodded as he began making his way back to the pasture, Javi lingering behind for a few more moments. “I never did get to properly say hello to you.” You smirked, pulling your fingers beneath the belt loops on Javi’s jeans, bringing him closer to you as you both leaned in for a long, sweet kiss. 

“I think this hello works just fine.” Javi chuckled, his large hand cupping your face, calloused thumb rubbing back and forth against your cheek. “Thank you, Osita. This means so much to me. Meeting my dad, bringing food, offering to help. I just- Thank you.” 

“Of course. I’m so glad I got to finally meet your dad. He’s hilarious. I think he was just worried that I was gonna be too strong helping with the fence and he didn’t want to embarrass you like that.” 

“Pendejo.” 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” 

I do. It was soft and tender and sweet and somehow screamed in your ear at the same time. It made your heart race and your cheeks flushed as he pulled the hand already resting on your jaw closer to his, the kiss between you so gentle, yet powerful all at once. It felt like your lips were barely touching, yet somehow it still felt like they were crashing together, like a wave on the beach in a stormy sea. You pulled away from each other, slow and breathless, eyes locking and mouths still hanging half open. A kiss that left you both dumbfounded and speechless. 

“I uh, I should um, probably go help my dad.” 

“Yeah, I um, yeah, I should probably get to work on these flowers.” 

Both of your voices barely carried above a whisper. You slowly backed away from each other, stupid smiles spread across your cheeks as you bit down on your bottom lip to try and keep your grin from growing any wider. 

“If you need anything just-“ He gestured down to his pocket where was carrying his phone. 

“Just call your cell phone, I know.” 

As Javi’s body turned to walk towards his dad, his eyes stayed glued on you. So much so, that neither of you noticed the garden bucket he was about to trip over before it was too late. With one wrong step, Javi lost his footing and took several tumbling steps before planting his hands on the ground and pushing himself back up to stand. You were trying your hardest not to burst out into laughter, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Stupid fucking bucket…” Javi mumbled to himself. 

“Watch out for those buckets, they’ll getcha.” You yelled mockingly between your hysterical laughter. 

“I didn’t see it.” 

“Then watch where you’re going next time!” 

“It isn’t that funny.” 

“It is a little funny.” You still chuckled to yourself. 

Out of witty responses, Javi only shook his head at you before disappearing behind the house. Around the corner, he found his father, also laughing in hysterics, barely getting his words out over his snorts. 

“Got distracted by something while you were walking?” 

“Fuck. Did you see that too?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, hijo.” 

“Goddamnit.” Javi put one hand on his hip and the other palming his face. 

“Ah, to be young and blinded by love again.” Chucho shook his head as he began walking out towards the field. 

“Dad, please, for the love of-“ Javi pinched his fingers against the bridge of his nose as Chucho cut off the rest of his sentence. 

“I know, I know, I will leave it alone… for now.” He winked at Javi as the two men made their way back out into the field, Javi peeking around the house to take one last look at you before he left. 

If there was one thing that you had learned since moving to Texas, it was that it got hot. Fast. You truly didn’t mind the heat- it beat the terrible midwest winters you had dealt with every year since childhood. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like you slowly melting away only after a few hours out in the blazing sun. Beads of sweat pooled on your forehead as you clipped all of your hair up and out of your face, hating the feeling of it wet and sticky against your neck. Your shirt was practically drenched from the sun hitting your back for so long. You were thankful that you were getting closer to being finished, only leaving watering the flowers as your last step. If this was your own garden, you would have been weeding and trimming at a lightning fast pace, but something about the way Chucho had so tenderly clipped each branch and gently tugged each weed made you slow down and take your time with every step. Given the way you had watched Javi curiously perk up as his dad had offered you the task made you feel like this wasn’t a job that he would have offered to just anyone. The last thing you wanted to do was mess it up. As you made your way around the edge of the house, leaving only the last few bushes, you noticed a large, flat stone at the base of one of the hydrangea plants. You squatted down next to it, using your hand to dust off the dirt covering the top, plucking some weeds growing around the edges. Under the dirt, your fingers began to trace over indents in the rock that felt like letters. With a few more swipes of your hand, you were able to make out the words under the soil. 

Lucia’s Garden 

You sat there for a few moments, rubbing your fingers gently over the indents in the stone, lost in thought as you imagined the vibrant image of Javi’s mother amongst the equally bright and beautiful flower garden. 

“Hey, Osita.” Even though the voice was soft and familiar, you had definitely not heard Javi creep up behind you, and when his strong and calloused hands rested on top of your shoulders, you just about jumped out of your skin. 

“Ah! Jesus, what is it with the Peña men and absolutely scaring the shit out of me today?” You jumped up, catching your breath as Javi rested his hands on the outside of your arms as you turned towards him. He laughed softly to himself as you regained your composure. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while. Not that I’m mad about it, but I find it very unlikely you and your dad are already done with the fence. Unless you both have some crazy superpowers, besides sneaking up on people, that I don’t know about.” 

He chuckled, as he placed his hand under your chin, tilting it up towards him as he gently wiped a smudge of dirt off of your cheek. “No, not done yet. But, I did just get a call that the guys who were supposed to come help. They’re back on the road and should be here soon, and they were able to bring a few extra people with them with building. So, I was able to convince Pops that they had enough help with the fence, that you could come help me do the rest of the chores around the ranch for the night, if you want.” 

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna let me help with anything.” You crossed your arms and smirked at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“I mean if you don’t wanna see the animals,” he said, putting a knowing emphasis on the word, “then that’s fine I guess-”

“Wait. That’s what this is?! We get to go see the animals?! Why didn’t you say that first, dummy, let’s go!” You shrieked, practically dragging Javi away. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so excited to feed cows.” 

“AND we get to feed them?! This is really turning out to be way better than anything I had planned.” 

“You’re ridiculous, Osita.” He laughed as he smiled at you, finding it both hilarious and absolutely adorable at how excited you were. Here you were, covered in dirt and sweat, practically begging him to walk through a smelly barn to feed even smellier animals, all because it meant you got to be with him. Him. He truly needed someone to pinch him, because he was convinced he had to be dreaming. Well, if he was, he guessed he could let that dream keep going just a little longer. 

“I don’t understand how you don’t think this is the coolest thing. What do we have to do first?” You looked up at him, eyes glistening with excitement. 

“We'll stop at the barn and get some hay and feed, then take the truck out to them.” 

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!” 

You both hopped into Javi’s truck and headed towards the barn. While it was only less than a minute away, Javi wasted no time gripping his hand over your bare thigh, stroking his thumb back and forth over your skin as he drove. 

“Do you wanna wait in here while I get stuff?” He asked gently as he put the truck in park pulling up to the barn, still rubbing his hand against your knee. 

“That is the stupidest question you have asked me all day. If I’m here to help, I want the full Peña Ranch experience.” You quickly unbuckled yourself as you opened the passenger door, sliding out. Javi shook his head and laughed to himself as he followed behind you. 

“You really want the full experience?” He stood facing you, arms crossed over his chest with a smug look on his face. 

“Yes! I told you, I’m here to help. Don’t take it easy on me, Peña.” You mirrored his stance, leaning into your hip and shrugging your shoulders. 

“Okay.” He chuckled as he opened the barn door and then stood back to lean against the back of the truck. “We need four bales of hay and 2 buckets of feed. All you, Osita.” He motioned to the barn wall, stacked high with bales of hay from end to end. 

“Easy.” You reached your hands above your head to stretch before you walked over to the hay, Javi standing and watching. “How heavy can they be? It’s just hay!” You leaned over the closest bale, reaching down to the two strings binding it together to pick it up. Oh shit. This was WAY heavier than you thought, but there was no turning back now. Taking a deep breath, you grimaced your face as you tried to lift the bale as high off the ground as you could, shuffling awkwardly towards the truck. You let out a much louder than intended grunt as you heaved the bale of hay up into the truck bed, letting out a few deep breaths and putting your hands on your hips after you finished, trying as hard as you could to play off the fact that the task was much more difficult than expected. “See?” Your words heavy between each pant. “Easy.’ 

“Do you want to go get the buckets of feed while I finish the hay? Or was it so easy that you wanna do the rest of them?” Javi smirked. 

“I mean, I guess if I’m getting the full experience, I should probably learn how to get the feed too. ” You replied, trying to hide the fact you were still trying to catch your breath. 

“Okay, Osita, whatever you say.” He winked, smirk still spread across his face. “There’s some barrels back there labeled with feed. You can put 3 scoops in the red bucket and 3 in the blue. Should be easy.” He leaned down to give you a quick kiss before making his way over to the hay bales. 

“Pendejo…” You muttered to yourself. 

“You love it.” He teased, easily lifting a bale and tossing it into the truck. 

Thankfully, the feed was nowhere near as heavy as the hay, and you were able to carry both buckets over to the truck where Javi was waiting for you. “You want me to put those in the truck for you, or are they easy too?” Javi mocked, clearly getting enjoyment out of your stubbornness.

“Oh shut up, I just wasn’t expecting the hay to be that heavy.” Your grumbles and defeat quickly turning into giggles and smiles as Javi lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the truck bed, his arms placed outside your hips as he leaned in to pepper you with ticklish kisses across your neck and face. “It would be so much harder to be mad at you if you weren’t the hottest cowboy I’ve ever seen. Didn’t know I had a thing for them until you showed up all hot and sweaty and handsome and I’ve been trying so hard to not get distracted, especially considering we’re hanging out with your dad, but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

“You don’t think it’s been any easier for me watching you just walk around in those jean shorts all day? Jesus, Osita, you’re fucking killing me.” He planted another hot, wet kiss on your neck as his hands shifted, running up and down your thighs. You could feel heat flushing over your cheeks as you felt arousal build in your belly. 

“Javi, we cannot do this here, we’re at your dad’s house. I want him to like me, I don’t need him to catch us screwing around here.” Your breaths slowly turned into moans, making your argument less and less convincing to Javi as he had his fingertips gripping into your hips, pulling you close to him as his kisses crept up your neck and along your jaw. 

“He already loves you, hermosa. Don’t worry, I have it figured out. You’ll see.” He pulled his lips off you, suddenly, winking before walking away towards the driver’s side door, leaving you sitting on the truck bed, worked up and desperate. 

“Wait, woah, what? What do you mean you have it figured out? You can’t just do that and walk away!” You scrambled off the truck bed, hopping into the truck with him. 

“C’mon, Osita. We have cows to feed, remember?” With the way this man kissed you, you were lucky if you could remember your name after he was done. 

Feeding cows and sexual tension were two things that you would have never thought would have gone hand in hand, but here you were, barely holding it together as you looked over at Javi. His aviators perched on his strong nose, gray shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, the width of his hands around your leg? You sure hope whatever mystery he had planned was coming soon because your self restraint was starting to run thin. That was, until you looked out the truck. 

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THERE WERE BABY COWS?” You practically jumped out of the passenger door as the truck pulled to a stop, speeding up to the fence where four calves were waiting for you. “Can I pet them? They’re so cute!” You hadn’t even bothered to help Javi haul the food out of the truck bed as you reached out to scratch the bridges of each little cow’s nose. 

“I figured you’d like these guys. Hola, chiquitos. Tienes hambre? (Hi, little ones. Are you hungry?). He cooed in a sweet, soft voice that made your heart melt. “Do you wanna feed them while I take care of the others?” 

“Is this gonna be another hay bale situation?” You joked sarcastically, scratching under one of the cow’s chins. 

“No, this one is actually fun. Hold on.” He went back over to the truck, pulling out 4 large bottles that he must have grabbed while you were getting the rest of the feed. “They’re not old enough for grain feed yet, so they’re still bottle fed.” He passed one of the containers off to you, before grabbing his own to demonstrate. “All you have to do is hold it with both hands and let them drink out of it until it’s empty. Each calf gets one. They’re cute, but don’t let ‘em fool you, they’re still strong, and very hungry.” 

“Got it.” You replied, taking the bottle in both hands, the calves beginning to moo as they caught a glimpse of their food. You held it up as the cow’s tongues shot out of their mouths before one of them latched on to the bottle. You giggled as the calf sucked out of the container, Javi smiling at your enjoyment as he grabbed a bale and made his way further down the fence to feed the rest of the herd.  

“Ringo is very strong.” You grunted, gripping on to your final bottle as Javi approached you again, finished with his feeding duties. “At least he’s nicer than George, he tried to bite John and Paul when it was their turn to eat!” 

“Hermosa, who are you talking about?” Javi laughed, amused at the sight of you trying to keep the calf from ripping the bottle out of your hands. 

“The cows! They needed better names than 6, 14, 27 and 31, which was all their tags said. And there’s four of them, so I figured they could be the Beatles! John, Paul, Ringo and George!” 

“Normally, we don’t name them, it’s too hard to keep track of, that’s why they have numbers. Also, all these calves are girls.” He still laughed to himself as he leaned down to pick up the empty bottles and put them back in the truck. 

“Oh… Well, it doesn’t matter, I think their names are still cute, who cares. More fun than the numbers.” You nudged Javi playfully as you pulled the empty bottle away before throwing in the truck bed with the others. “Bye, Beatles!” You waved at the cows before hopping back into the truck. 

“You’re such a dork.” 

“Well at least I’m your dork.” 

“Yeah, I’m glad you are. You ready to head back?” 

“Let’s go cowboy.” 

As you headed down the dirt path, you could see the sun slowly starting to dip beneath the clouds, painting the sky to a beautiful orange and pink. You leaned over the center console, resting your head on Javi’s shoulder, as you snaked your arm under his, gently squeezing his hand as your fingers interlocked. There was something so peaceful and perfect about the moment, how you could almost feel the threads of each of your lives slowly becoming more intertwined with each moment you spent together. You could spend a million more nights just like these just sitting by his side, driving anywhere to do anything. It didn’t matter, as long as you were with him. You were so caught up in the beautiful fantasy of the moment, that you hadn’t even heard him over your daydreaming.

“Hermosa?” 

“Sorry, what did you say?” You shook your head, coming to. 

“I uh, I know you’ve already spent a lot of time here today with me and my dad, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I was um, wondering if you wanted to stay for dinner? Maybe spend the night here?” He shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel as he looked at you with his sweet, puppy dog eyes. 

“Really?” Your face lit up instantly, thrilled by the fact Javi wanted to spend more time with him and his dad. 

“Yeah, like I said, um, don’t feel like you have to, but-” 

“Javi.” You paused, gazing back at him. “I would love to.” You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as you leaned back over to rest your head against him again as you pulled back up to the house. As Javi put the truck in park and you pushed on the handle to open the door to hop out, you felt a tug against your wrist, drawing you back in. You turned back, Javi’s eyes looking you up and down, his tongue darting out between his lips before clenching his jaw. Without saying a word, you shifted back in your seat, Javi’s hands engulfing your face, as he pulled you in, meeting his lips with yours. As your mouths crashed into each other, you could feel your heart race, electricity flowing through your veins, feeling Javi pull you closer to him. There was something so desperate about it, like he was holding in something he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that he just couldn’t say. 

I want you. I need you. I love you. 

You hoped those were the words sealed between his kisses. You hoped he felt the plea of your kiss, too. 

I want you, too. I need you, too. I love you, too. 

As you both slowly pulled away, your heavy breaths mingled in the few inches left between your parted lips, Javi’s traced soft and tender circles around the line of your jaw. 

“I really like you, Osita.” 

“I really like you too, Javi.” 

Those were the best words you could muster from the silent screams of your kiss. Those words would have to do, for now. 

“Do you wanna head inside? I’m sure your dad’s probably waiting for us.” You asked, regrettably. 

“I really don’t want to, but we probably should.” He huffed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, giving you one last kiss on the head before you made your way in the house. 

As you entered through the front door, you could already hear Chucho in the kitchen tinkering with pots and pans and singing along to the Spanish radio station in the background. “So, do we have a guest for dinner?” Chucho spoke in between lines of the song, hearing that you and Javi had come through the front door. 

“If that’s okay?” You replied, now making your way into the kitchen to see the array of food that Chucho had spread across the countertops. 

“More than okay, mija. I’d hope you’d stay.” He said with a soft smile as he wiped his hands the apron he was wearing, worn and faded letters across the front reading “Besar a Cocinero” (kiss the cook). 

Rubbing his hand against the small of your back (grazing dangerously close over ass) as he stood behind you, Javi looked down and smiled. “Osita, do you wanna take a shower before dinner? I can throw all your clothes in the wash too if you want?” 

“What? Are you saying I smell bad?” You took a step back, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“Well, no, I mean, uh-” Javi tripped over his words. 

“Javi, oh my gosh, I’m just kidding.” You said, playfully swatting at him. “I know I probably smell like a troll, so a shower would be great. I didn’t bring any extra clothes, though.” 

“A cute troll, at least.” Javi laughed, having to remind himself that the majority of the things that came out of your mouth were completely unserious. “You can borrow some of mine until yours are clean. Here, I’ll show you where the shower is.” He took you by the hand as he led you down the hallway, stopping at the first door on the right, leading into Javi’s bedroom. His room was neat and minimal, not much in it besides his bed, dresser, desk and a bookshelf with some scattered picture frames and a few unpacked boxes in one of the corners. You stood there for a moment, looking around at the space as Javi walked across the room to open the door where his bathroom was. “Shower’s in there, towel’s hanging up on the door, and I’ll set some clothes out for you on the bed when you’re done.” 

“Thanks.” You smiled as you bit down on your lip, taking a slight step towards him. “You um, probably want my clothes I’m wearing right now for the laundry, right?” 

You had been trying so hard to not completely fall apart at the sight of Javi all day. Especially with wanting to make a good impression on his dad, it took everything in you to keep yourself from crawling all over him from the minute you walked through the door. You knew there was nothing you could really do about it right now, but Javi’s not so subtle point to close and lock his bedroom door also hadn’t gone unnoticed. Slowly, you stretched your arms over your head to strip your T-shirt, dropping it on the floor as Javi’s jaw went slack, his eyes undressing you faster than you could undress yourself. You undid the button and zipper to your shorts, pushing them down your hips as they dropped around your ankles, leaving you in just your bra and underwear, and Javi just about speechless.  

“Fuck me.” He whispered to himself as he stepped into you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his big hands sliding up your back as he unclipped your bra, helping it slide off your shoulders before tossing it into the pile of the rest of your clothes. You let out a silent moan as he kissed down your chest, his tongue flicking against each of your pebbled nipples as his hands worked down your hips, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs before they fell to the floor. You could feel his bulge straining against the denim of his jeans pressed against your leg as he ran his hands up and down your curves, planting hot and heavy kisses across your body. You wished so badly that he could toss you on his bed and fuck you right then and there, but you had to keep reminding yourself that his dad was only a few feet from Javi’s room before you got too carried away, a fact that Javi seemed to have forgotten given the way he was all over you. 

You outstretched your neck to nip at his ear letting out a long and shaky breath before you whispered. “I think you got all the clothes you need, I’m gonna get in the shower now.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as you pulled away from his grasp, shooting him a quick wink as you giggled, closing the door to the bathroom. You left Javi standing in the middle of his room, breathless and riled up as he stood next to the pile of your clothes on the floor. He placed one hand on his hip, the other running through the dark locks of his hair before reaching down to grab your clothes as he mumbled to himself. 

“God, I’m so fucked.” 

You felt like a new person stepping out of the shower now that you had scrubbed yourself clean of the dirt, sweat and grime from the day. You wrapped yourself up in the fluffy navy blue towel that Javi had left for you, drying the damp ends of your hair before opening the door to step back into Javi’s bedroom. Sitting on top of the plaid comforter that covered his bed, you noticed a pile of clothes Javi had left for you with a post it note placed on top. You picked it up, laughing to yourself as you read it. 

Hope these clothes are okay. Sweatshirt and sweatpants are for later, gets cold outside at night. FYI, payback’s a bitch. 

See you soon, beautiful, 

-J 

Wondering what Javi had planned for outside, you set the gray sweatpants and maroon crewneck aside, picking up the white t-shirt with “Texas A&M Swimming” written across the front. You slipped it on over your head before shuffling on the black pair of cotton sleep shorts Javi had left for you, rolling them up a few times so they didn’t slide down your waist. You reached for the doorknob of the bedroom, opening it slightly as you heard Javi and his dad’s voices from the kitchen, listening in on their conversation. 

“I know Dad, believe me. I’ll tell her, just… I can’t yet. I don’t wanna fuck this up.” 

“Well don’t take too long. She is a special girl, Javier. You and I both know it. Don’t you think there was a reason I let her tend to your mamá’s garden? You know very well I don’t trust just anyone with Lucia’s flowers. I barely trust you. She would always tell me how much she couldn’t wait for you to bring home a woman you loved, a daughter to have to spend time with there. Dios la bendiga (God bless her), I wish she could have met her. Your mother would have loved her. You two are perfect for each other. Ella es tú media naranja. (She is your better half, your soulmate). I know you love her, Javier. I find it very hard to believe that she doesn’t love you too.” 

I want to tell her. I know you love her. She loves you too. 

The words rung in your ears as your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. Your mouth hung open as heat crept up your cheeks, your mouth stretching with the widest, stupidest grin. Holy shit. Part of you wished you hadn’t heard it, only because now it was taking every ounce of you to not bust through the door, kiss his sweet face and tell him how much you loved him too. Thank God there was a part of your lovestruck brain that still had some sense of awareness left to it, as you heard the thumps of Javi’s footsteps towards the door, followed by a “I’m just gonna see if she needs anything before I get in the shower.” You scrambled back from the door, trying to do anything you could to make it look like you hadn’t just overheard the conversation in the kitchen. You pretended to fold your damp towel as Javi opened the door, leaning against the frame. 

“Hey, you’re done! Shower okay? Tried to find whatever I could I thought would fit you best.” 

“Yeah, great! Shower was great, clothes fit great, everything is great. Perfect.” The words spilled out of your mouth in the least casual way possible, sounding frantic and panicked as they fell from your lips. 

“Osita, you okay? Are the clothes not comfortable? I can get you different ones? Or if you’re worried about spending time with just you and my dad while I’m in the shower, I-” 

You cut him off, standing up on your tiptoes and balling up the shirt covering his chest in your fists as you reached up to press your lips into his, lingering for as long as you could before breaking away. “I’m sorry, everything is perfect. Seriously. You just surprised me when you came in. I’m excited to spend time with your dad and the clothes are just fine. Not sure what I’m gonna need these sweatpants and sweatshirt for but I’m excited to find out.” 

He let out a small huff of relief as he ran his fingers through the wet ends of your hair before kissing the top of your head. “Like I said, I’ve got it all taken care of, you’ll see. I just have to shower real quick, and Pops said food should be done real soon. Does that work?” 

“Absolutely. Have a good shower, ya stinky cowboy.” You winked as you gave his butt a quick squeeze before heading out into the kitchen. 

“Ah, Mija!” Chucho’s cheerful greeting making you smile as he milled around the kitchen, whistling along to the upbeat song on the radio. “I hope you’re hungry! It seems like I am getting in the habit of making way too much food. I am glad we have an extra mouth with us tonight to help us.” 

“I’m glad to be here! I’m starving. Is there anything else you need help with?” You asked, looking around at even more photos that hung in the kitchen, quickly realizing how fond Chucho was of displaying his loved ones in every inch of the house. You caught a glimpse of another photo of Javi hanging above the dining room table, this one of him in a cap and gown, holding his diploma as he stood next to his mother and father, proud looks beaming across their faces. Chucho noticed you staring, his heart warmed by the genuine interest you seemed to have of his life in photos spread across his home. 

“No, honey. Already finished, just cleaning up a few things, but that can wait for later. That’s when Javier graduated from college. We were so proud of him.” He gestured, pointing over to the picture you were staring at. 

“Yeah, I bet. You can tell from the picture how happy you are for him. It’s very sweet.” You smiled, seeing how much both of his parents loved and cared for Javi. 

“Do you want to see more?” You turned around to face Chucho, almost giddy with excitement. 

“More what? More pictures? Yes please!” You grinned. 

“Perfecto. Take a seat, Mija, I’ll be right back.” He pointed over to the kitchen chair as he made his way over to the living room, rustling around and returning with 4 large stacks of photo albums. “I’m glad you asked about these now, Javier would kill me if he saw me getting all of these out for you, but they are too good not to share. Here, start with this one.” He opened up the first book with a worn, brown leather cover, flipping to the first page. It was filled with pictures of Javi’s mom, still pregnant and setting up the nursery, followed by newborn Javi, face scrunched and covered in a dark brown head of hair. “Lucia was so excited when she found out she was pregnant. We had tried for so long, and by some miracle, along came sweet Javier. Oh, did she love him.” He spoke as you continued flipping through the pages, smiling with each turn, honored to hear about Javi’s life, long before your paths crossed. “Oh, this is a good one!” He stopped you, pointing to a photo of Javi, who couldn’t have been older than 3 or 4, sitting on top of a cow with a sweet, toothy grin. “He’s always loved animals. He would cry every night, mamácita, papácita, mas vacas, por favor! (Mommy, Daddy, more cows, please!) because he loved listening to those cows moo so much.” 

“That’s so adorable. It’s so nice that you have so many photos of him.” You smiled, opening up the next book on the table. 

“Good to have memories of all of the moments that live in your heart.” Chucho sighed as you flipped to a photo of Javi blowing out candles on a birthday cake, sitting on his mother’s lap, as she cheered for her son.  

“Jesus, Pops, are you serious?” Javi rolled his eyes as he strolled into the kitchen, setting down your extra sweatpants and shirt on the counter before running his towel through his damp curls, knowing exactly what his dad was up to. 

“Javi, you were such a cute kid! What happened?” You and Chucho snickered to yourself as Javi put a hand on his hip, running his tongue across his teeth, trying his best to not give away the fact he couldn’t have been happier to see how well the two of you were getting along. 

“Fine, fine. Looks like we’ve been busted, Mija. We’ll save the rest of these for another time.” He chuckled as he scooped up the photo books, bringing them back to the living room. 

“You’re no fun.” You nudged Javi, as he stood next to you, now freshly showered and wearing a dark blue shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that were about to make you fall out of your chair. 

“You should be thanking me. I’m saving you from all the awful, awkward photos of me from after I was a cute kid.” 

“But those are the best ones! Besides, with how handsome you are, I have a very hard time believing you ever went through an awkward stage.” 

“And that’s why the rest of the photo books are getting put away.” He laughed as rested his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind your chair. “Dinner ready, Pops?” 

“Sí, on the counter, in the bag ready to go.” He pointed to the counter where a large brown paper sat. 

“Wait,” You paused, confused by the exchange. “Why is it in a bag? I thought we were eating dinner together here?” Your brows scrunched in surprise as you looked back and forth between Javi and his dad. 

“Don’t worry about me, mija. I’ve already taken up too much of your time. Besides, señor romance tiene otros planes.” (Mr. Romance has other plans). 

“Oh, so what are these plans, Mr. Romance?” You giggled, you and Chucho equally enjoying the embarrassing Hell you had both put him through today. 

“Jesus Christ. Alright, we’re going now, bye Pops.” He mumbled as he grabbed the extra clothes and food from the counter, you following close behind him as you made your way to the front door. 

 

“Alright, so where are we off too, Mr. Romance?” You giggled as Javi started up the truck after throwing the food and clothes in the backseat. “I hope whatever you’re doing is because you think I don’t want to spend time with your dad.” 

“Osita, that is the least of my worries. You two together are turning out to be a much bigger pain in my ass than I ever expected.” He joked as the two of you laughed, both relieved by how well you had been getting along with his dad. “No I just, I know I said it before, but I’m so glad you came today. You didn’t have to do any of this, no one… no one’s ever done anything like this for me before. Just, I don’t, I, um-” 

You slipped your fingers between his free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, Javi.” Had no one ever really done something this nice for him? In your mind, today couldn’t have been an easier decision. You were so glad that he was letting you into his life- to meet his dad, to see where he grew up, to learn more about his past and what shaped him into the man that had your heart. It killed you to think that something like this was something he’d never had. “So, is this what you kept telling me you had planned today? Where are we going? Are we eating there? Is it outside?” 

“Jesus, you really do hate surprises, don’t you? Remind me to never throw you a surprise birthday party. Don’t worry, you’ll see. You trust me?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Good. Close your eyes.” 

“Close my eyes, what are you-”

“Osita, please.” 

“Fine, fine.”

You leaned your head back over onto his shoulder, closing your eyes as you drove in a comfortable silence, bright golden sunset spilling into the windows of the truck as traveled along the worn dirt path. Between a gap in the fencing along the side of the gravel road, Javi turned, driving the truck through part of the open field before swinging it around, turning the front of the car facing the direction you came. 

“Can I open my eyes yet?” 

“What happened to you being so patient? Keep them closed, give me one minute.” 

“Not even a little peek?” 

“Osita…” 

“Okay, okay, no peeking, I swear!” You kept your eyes shut as you heard the door close on Javi’s side of the truck, the backdoor also opening and closing after he shuffled around, grabbing what you assumed were the things from the backseat. You heard the bed of the truck slam down before Javi was back rustling around in the front of the truck, reaching over your lap into the CD’s. You could hear him quickly pick one out before sliding it into the CD player, the “Rumors” album by Fleetwood Mac now playing over the speakers. 

“Good pick.” You smiled, eyes still shut tight. “You almost done yet, Mr. Romance? Or is this how I finally go? You’ve hid the axe murderer act long enough and now you’re gonna bury me out in the field, never to be seen again? I guess it is clever on your part.” You laughed to yourself, knowing what the look on Javi’s face must have been as he rolled his eyes at you, even if yours were still scrunched shut. You heard him shuffle out, opening your side of the car. 

“Give me your hand, you dork.” You felt his palm under yours as your fingers wrapped around his wrist as his other hand held your hip, helping you scoot out of the truck. He guided you to take a few steps before releasing your hand. “Okay, now you can open.” 

You wanted to give him some witty remark, a sarcastic jab, anything to give him a hard time about how he had made you wait for whatever this mystery surprise was, but as you opened your eyes, you were left speechless. Looking out in front of you, you saw nothing but miles of green grass, hills rolling up and down along the horizon as far as the eye could see as the sunset bursted with a ferocious orange and pink glow, peeking just above the clouds, slowly getting ready to sink into the land below. “Javi…” You paused for a moment as you took in the view. “This is beautiful.” 

“Yeah, it is.” With Javi standing behind you, you assumed that he too, was taking in the spectacular view. And to him, he was. It just wasn't the sunset that he was referring to. 

You turned around, remembering the rustling you had heard in the backseat, wondering what Javi had been doing in the truck bed. The back of the truck was filled with blankets and pillows with Chucho’s bag of food sitting on the edge. Still speechless, you stared back at Javi awestruck by the moment. “C’mere.” He said, patting  the truck bed, lifting you up and following close behind you. You both snuggled in under the blankets, Javi wrapping his arm around you as you laid into his chest, watching the sun slowly fade away behind the clouds. “Good surprise?” He leaned into you, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your arm. 

“Great surprise.” 

Reaching his hand across your body, he cupped the side of your face, turning it toward his as his lips gently pressed against yours. He pulled back for a moment, foreheads pressed against each other, mouths barely separated, like he was looking for the right words to say but he just couldn’t find them. “Kiss me.” You whispered. “Kiss me, Javi.” 

You could feel your weight shift as Javi rolled you over, his body now hovering over yours as your mouths crashed together in a way that was deep and intense without being frantic or rushed. His tongue dipped in your mouth, your lips parted between soft, breathy moans, pressing his body deeper into yours with each kiss. “Javi…” You whined, ache building between your legs as you felt his length pressed against you from his sweatpants, already hard and heavy against your thigh. He slowly began to make his way down your body, hot, wet kisses covering your belly as he pushed your shirt further up your body. He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, carefully helping you shimmy them down as his hand dipped between your legs, his fingers barely grazing against your entrance. “Javi, pleaseeee.” You moaned again, begging to have him do something to ease the throbbing burning in your core. 

The sweet whispers of his name on your lips made his cock twitch. Early today, after you had wrecked him in his bedroom, teasing him as you stripped your clothes in front of him before getting in the shower, he was going to take his sweet time, making you beg for his touch. But as he took you in, every beautiful inch of you, his willpower crumbled in an instant. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you slow and deep, for you to feel all of him, to watch you come undone as you whispered his name, pulling him closer and closer into you with each stroke. He wanted to fuck you so that you could feel those 3 words he just couldn’t say to you yet. 

“I know, baby.” His fingertips pressing just a little further, feeling how absolutely soaked you already were. “Wanna take my time with you, okay? Wanna make you feel good.” His voice sent shivers down your spine as you nodded, his fingers now slowly sinking deeper into you, making your back arch from his touch. He kissed along the inside of your thighs as his calloused thumb began to gently rub around your clit, his fingers already drenched as they began to steadily rock in and out of you. His kisses made their way from your thighs to your clit as he carefully flicked his tongue, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm underneath him. “Always so wet for me, pretty girl.” The hot breath of his words danced along your heat as his dark brown eyes locked with yours. He dipped his head back down, licking a long, broad strip against your bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back and forth over his fingers. His tongue swirled around your clit, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart as you moaned with each touch. 

“It feels so good, Javi. Fuck, babyyyy.” You whined, feeling your cunt clenching tighter and tighter around his thick fingers as his mouth worked its magic between your legs. With each thrust of his hand and lap of his tongue, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the pressure in your stomach starting to build, your breaths heavy and shaky. 

“I know you’re close, Osita. Let go, baby. Come for me. I got you.” He knew his words were just what you needed to send you over the edge. With a few more thrusts of his hands, he could feel your pussy flutter around his fingers. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi, Jaaahhhhh-” You whimpered as you felt the heat grow at the base of your spine, pleasure shooting through your body as you came around his fingers, your jaw slack as you felt your legs shake. 

“Such a good girl for me, Hermosa. My good fucking girl. Tastes so sweet, baby.” He praised, slowly pulling his hand out of your heat, dipping his fingers into his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. He sat up on his knees, still between your legs, the outline of his already hard dick pressed against his sweatpants as he pushed them down his hips before pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He leaned back down over you, grabbing one of the blankets by his feet to cover your bodies. 

“Are you afraid a cow’s gonna see your bare ass?”  You giggled, still coming down from your high as you gestured to the blanket now covering both of you. His arms outstretched outside of your shoulders as you laid on your back, he joined in your laughter, dropping his forehead down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

“You’re ridiculous, Osita. Fuck, I love it. I love everything about you. Fuck. You’re fucking perfect.” He stared at you for a moment, his sweet brown eyes taking in all of you, like he couldn’t believe you were real. That you were his.

 He swallowed, his mouth parted like there was more he was desperate to say but couldn’t quite get out. You pushed your head up off of the pillow underneath you, gently pressing his lips against yours, his hand shifting you cradle the back of your head, his fingers tugging at the ends of your hair as he set you back down. He shifted back slightly, using his hand to stroke himself a few times before flushing his hips against yours, his cock lined up with your entrance. Neither of you said anything, feeling at a loss for words in the moment, both of you silently seeming to agree that something about now felt different than all the other times before. You barely nodded your head as Javi slowly sank into you, taking his time, letting you adjust to him inch by inch before bottoming out, stopping for a moment as you let out a soft moan that Javi quickly swallowed with a kiss. He began to rock his hips back and forth, taking his time, gradually filling you deeper and harder with each thrust, his whispers hot against your neck. 

“Fuck baby, I’ll never get enough of you. My fuckin’ perfect girl.” 

“Javiiiii” You whined, your arms wrapping around back, nails pressing into his shoulders as his cock hit the spot inside you that lit you ablaze. His hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to rub your clit, still slow, taking his time with each graze of his fingertips as his pace held deep and steady. Every thrust in and out of his hips had you wrecked as he filled you so deeply and intensely, moaning his name as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you. 

“I know, Hermosa, I know. Does it feel good, baby? Knowing you’re mine? That you’re the only one I ever wanna make feel like this?” 

His words had you whimpering as he nipped at your neck, his hand gripping on your hip, thrusts becoming faster from your sounds. “Oh my god, yes, Javi. Fuck, it’s all yours. I’m all yours.” You wanted nothing more, for him to be the only one whose sweet words made you fall apart, the only one who ever came close to making you feel this way. You could feel the coil in your belly beginning to snap as the pad of his thumb rubbed rapidly against your clit, his cock driving into you as your vision went white. 

“I know you’re close, Osita. I can feel it. Wanna see you when you come. Wanna see your beautiful face, pretty girl.” The brown pools of his eyes filled with want and need as they locked with yours. You could feel your foreheads touching, his damp curls brushing against you with each push of his hips, your bodies melting into each other as you felt the coil inside your belly snap.  

“Fuck, Javi, fuck, baby, I’m gonna, gonna-.” Your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure shooting through every inch of you as you wrapped yourself around Javi. It was so intense, the way the feeling crashed through you, how everything about him had you completely wrecked, how tightly you could feel yourself clenching around his length as you came. 

Watching you come completely undone under him, Javi found himself quickly falling apart at the sight of you. Each stroke was faster and sloppier than the last, like he was desperate to show you how badly he wanted you, needed you. He could feel the sweet tingle of his release building, his brain going blank as the words fell from his mouth. “That’s it baby. Fuck, Osita. Gonna cum so deep inside you, fuck you full of me. Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine. Soy tuyo, Osita. Mi corazón es tuyo. Es todo para ti. Eres mi todo, Osita. Te am-ahhhhhh.” (I’m yours, Osita. My heart is yours. It’s all for you. You’re my everything. I love yo-). He could feel each throb of his cock pulsing as he spilled into you, riding out his high with short, shallow thrusts, making sure every last drop of him was inside your walls. He melted into you, his body collapsing onto yours as your heavy breathes synced, chests rising and falling together. 

You paused for a moment before you spoke. You replayed his words in your head over and over again, not sure what you were trying to convince yourself of. You weren’t sure of everything he had said, trying to piece together the Spanish you knew as you came down from your high, but if there was one sentence you knew for sure, it was the last one, even if it had gone unfinished. 

Te amo. I love you. 

“Javi…” You paused, your heart practically beating out of your chest. “What was the last part you said?” 

Javi froze. You could feel his Adam’s apple bob against your chest as he swallowed, his head still buried in your neck. You waited for what felt like an eternity before he pressed himself off you, rolling over, laying beside you. “I uh, I don’t, um, I don’t remember all of it.” He tripped over his words, eyes scrunched tight, like he couldn’t bear to look at you out of fear of what he had said. 

“Javi. Javier Jesús Peña. Please. Please tell me what you said.” You placed your hand on his chest, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you, your face pleading, practically begging to hear the words that had fallen from his lips once more. 

“I’m yours, Osita. My heart is yours. It’s all for you. You’re my everything. I… Fuck.” You could see the tears welling behind his eyes after he ran his hand over his face. You moved your hand from his chest to under his jaw, cradling his cheek. 

“Javi… Say it. Please.” Your words met his ears barely above a whisper. He paused, taking one more trembling breath, staring off into space for a moment, like he was praying with everything he had left in him that you really did want to hear it. 

“Osita… Fuck. I… I love you.” 

“Javi,” Your voice shook as you felt the tears trickle down your cheeks, rounding and red from the grin growing across your face. “I love you too.” 

It was only for a moment that you saw his face mirror yours before you could feel his hands grasping around your face, pulling you in for a kiss that made you feel like fireworks were exploding inside you. He squeezed his arms around you, a mix of laugher and tears leaving your body as he pulled you on top of him, wrapping you in his embrace. 

“Really?” He questioned, his words still shaky as he smiled at you, running his trembling hands through your hair. 

“Of course, Pendejo. Of course I do.” You both laid there for a moment, breathing in sighs of relief and joy, soaking in every moment of that four letter word. You loved him. He loved you. Javier Peña loved you. 

You rolled over, both of your bodies curled in the blanket on top of you, staring into the sky, now fading into a deep darkness, speckled with spots of shining stars above you. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing else besides the two of you. Up until now, there were few things in life that you had been sure of. On a Wednesday in late May, you knew one of those sure things was that you had fallen head over heels in love with Javier Peña. And now, you knew one of those sure things was that Javier Peña loved you too.

..............

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @persephone-girl

[tocomplainfriend]

BIG POST ABOUT ACE REP IN HB/HH

ALASTOR:

I'm ace spec and I hate this shitty mix of stereotypes

So many people see Ace or Aro (and both) people as people who must not have feelings. That if you don't feel romantic or sexual attraction for example "you must be broken" in the same way people connect that to people like serial killers like Alastor. The not having feelings or empathy for people also connects to of all that. And the automatic connection of "no feelings, no empathy" = "ace", Because of the usual conflation of Ace and Aromantic. (Specially cause a lot of people have heard more about Asexual than Aromatic, and can't separate sexual and romantic attraction and empathy)

Again, the general canon treatment and vivs treatment of Alastor also leads to the idea of Complete sex repulsed Ace and Complete romance repulsed Aro. But when ask about his romantic attraction, she doesn't state it as much as she states his Asexuality.

"If I give the real cannon answer...it's gonna... it's gonna... I don't want to ruin anybody's fun, so..."

Old post about this, plus the video of the quote:

Crew notes for Al:

MAMMON:

What!? Yeah! Came out of nowhere! Now we got two Ace characters that are extra terrible people that hurt others cause of the idea of shitty with empathy connected to Asexuality is all around... "Too bad/selfish of a person" = ace

I think they really just put this in at random. I don't think it was pre planed to have him as Ace because of how Octavia and Al are written.

Al is written with the simplicity of him being so not into sex that they portrayed him as if he didn't know about it in Hunicast. But Mammon is constantly profiting of the sexualization of Fizz, now Glitz and Glam. Constantly using prude language as well. I think if there was an intention before, they wouldn't have done that. Viv hasn't shown me a deeper understanding of Ace spectrums at all, I don't trust this. She picked the fat character, the series and merch doesn't sexualize like the others. He always had clothes on and nothing kinky. (for example...Viv also doesn't show a deeper/ or non-basic/non-stereotyped understanding of pansexuality)

But if it was an understanding of Ace spectrum, I'll take that. Mammon being ace, but he can understand and feel comfortable with people feeling attracted to him in that kind of way, like portrayed in the sexy merch?

BUT he is the only fat character and the only one never portrayed as naked or with fewer clothes in comparison to literally all the characters (including one offs) isn't this Viv and crew searching something to not having to sexualize him like they do with all the others? The two other Ace characters in this list don't get sexualized at all (thank god, Octavia is a kid) with the idea that Ace = 0 interaction with anything sex or attraction related....

REMEMBER, ACE IS AN SPECTRUM.

ACE PEOPLE CAN STILL HAVE SEX OR VIEW THEMSELVES AS SEXY AND WEAR SEXY CLOTHES.

They are also only using the Ace flag? Mammon is using the color for his clothes, so it could be Demi or Grey too, I wouldn't know, but it doubts it... Demi could match his actual outfit cause of the diamond shape things are like the triangle in the flag too tho!

That he is not treated like he doesn't know how sex works is surprisingly/sadly good. When the only thing you got is how Viv treated Al in Hunicast.

(Hopefully there is no weird implication that he is only at pride as a shitty rainbow capitalism thing, and that he is not connected to the cause of pride because he is Ace and implicated as "not to being connected as much". Really don't think so, but is always a worry that there could be a treatment of you are not as LGBTQ+ because you are ace so...!)

OCTAVIA: oh brother, I think she only got put on this because she is a minor, not to be sexualized in the heavily sexualized media. I mean, thank god.

I guess she's spilling her coffee at Stolas being sexual in the phone to Blitz in front of her, and telling them to get a room is the implication of Asexuality? Likewise, I think everyone doesn't want to hear their parent do dirty talk and attempt flirting in front of them.

Are any of these gonna matter or have an exploration or mention it? In the same way, there is a mention of (mainly male) gayness? No.

I don't think so...

Btw also no nonbinary? No gender-fluid or... nothing? No? Damn...

[prince-liest]

I’m a sex-repulsed ace, and reading the latest chapter of 666 (as well as your analysis here on Tumblr) made me realize that I have been subconsciously thinking about MY OWN sexuality from an allo perspective? And that it has kinda been messing me up?? Like, ever since I learned that sexual attraction was actually a Thing and that it’s Important To People, I had been carrying around a fear of being deficient in some way and not being able to love to the same extent as allos. (1)

Even though I know logically that’s complete garbage and totally untrue, I felt left out of the loop because people seemed to care strongly about this thing I couldn’t even imagine. Whenever it looked like a relationship might happen I panicked for a reason that I couldn’t understand. But now I’m starting to realize that it’s because I was subconsciously terrified of an ‘ulterior motive’ behind the other person’s reasons for wanting to be with me. (2) That part of the reason they even cared was because of something I don’t experience. So thank you, because this realization just clicked into place while reading your work. The thing is, this way of thinking was just internalized in such a way that I didn’t even realize it was there until literally this week. And I think you’re right; one of the main reasons behind that is because I’ve always consumed media written from an allo perspective. (3) If ace/aros are shown at all, they’re depicted as “lacking” and their character development usually revolves around being “fixed” by the story. When I was ~10 years old my mom sometimes let me watch the Big Bang Theory with her (looking back, maybe not the best decision). Anyways, there was one episode deep into the series where Sheldon (who for the past nineish seasons was probably the closest thing to mainstream ace rep) has sex with his girlfriend for the first time. (4) Afterwards, he says something along the lines of “that was better than I thought it would be”, and it’s presented as a Very Good Thing and a big step in their relationship. I think a lifetime of stuff like that makes it very easy to internalize aphobia and feel like the lesser part of the relationship. Or to feel like the other partner is making a huge sacrifice to be with you. That got wayy too long, sorry. All that was just a lot of words to say that I appreciate you. Take care of yourself!(5)

The portrayal of asexuality that you see in media being almost exclusively as you described is very tedious to me because it presumes that something is inherently lacking in aro/aceness rather than that feeling of "lacking" being something that is induced by societal norms. Actually, one of the things that I find additionally alienating is that fandom spaces specifically have been getting better and better about ace characters - but got damn does fandom not jive with aromanticism. Like, a character doesn't want to fuck? That's becoming a liiiittle more fine, it's 2024, we stan consent. But not shipping someone romantically?? Not so easy, now.

I'm glad that my work has been something that resonated with you in this respect! Alastor cares a lot about his reputation as a demon but is pretty blatantly a person who could not possibly give less of a shit about being "wrong" for not being experiencing romantic or sexual attraction. The explanation Viv gave at one point for his own understanding of himself (that he thinks he's just "waiting for the right woman") actually stuck out to me a lot because it's a very "well, nothing is wrong with me for not feeling anything, it's the world that's failed to produce a suitable person" perspective.

But having that kind of confident perspective of your own rightness in the world is really not often portrayed in media, or even in fandom, which even ten years ago was still in the throes of standardizing "Oh, no! Me, gay? These feelings are so wrong!" style m/m content and is honestly not that far off from essentially that for aro/ace characters.

Anyway, all of that is to say that there's not yet much out there that doesn't frame allo/amatonormative values as the default that "even aro/ace people can (and should want to) achieve," and that it's really fun to write a fic that is unequivocally from the perspective of a character who is aroace and doesn't see it as even remotely a fault in himself. Does he have moments where he's a little confused and trying to process how things fit for him? Absolutely. But he just doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who thinks he owes romance to Vox of all people, hahaha. I've written him trying to conform to allo/amatonormativity more with Mimzy, because I think the social standards of their time could push him into it, but Vox? Absolutely not, he does not respect Vox enough for it to even enter his mind.

And then, on the other hand, writing it from an aroace perspective centers the way that romantic and sexual interest can feel like a betrayal of a good thing. With a character like Alastor, it frames romantic and sexual attraction the same alien way that we usually see aromanticism and asexuality framed as.

In the end, this is just one of a plethora of different experiences that aro/ace people can have, but it's one that I really wanted to see represented more, so I'm very happy to write it. I'm glad that you're enjoying it!

[wowowwild]

Ace's All Time Best Fic Rec List (AATBFRL) April 2024: Ace Attorney

It's been a 6 months since my last list so here we go again! (I specified Ace Attorney in case I start doing this for other fandoms.) I originally planned to have all the old recs here as well but the list was too long so here's a link to the previous list. These aren't necessarily in any particular order, but if you can think of a good way for me to organize them, please let me know for future lists!

P.S. Anything rated over T mentions that immediately for your browsing convenience.

Doing more self promotion this year, so check out my pinned post or fic tag (desktop only)!

London, 2021- 7 yg Wrightworth hint of Krisnix. Phoenix is presently in London with Edgeworth. Phoenix is presently knowing that he knows about Kristoph but doesn't want to acknowledge it bc Kristoph has been really good to him and Trucy. But that doesn't matter right now bc they're going to the theatre.

if you leave the light on- 7yg Wrightworth. Nothing can happen until it's over but something Keeps happening. Miles will wait as long as it takes and Trucy decides he's part of the family.

In The Dead Of Night- During the 7yg Edgeworth invites the Wrights to Europe. Trucy has a nightmare and 'Uncle Miles' comforts her.

Phoenix's List- After getting his badge back, Phoenix has some regrets and sets about fixing what he can.

Perfect- I actually found this on another fic rec list and I can see why it was their favorite. Set towards the end of the trial of Bridge to Turnabout. TW if you have memory issues, it might be a little hard to get through parts bc of all the mindfuckery. I have to be really vague here so as not to spoil it. (Wrightworth)

Eo Nomine- Klapollo fake marriage turned real marriage but ig that's what happen when you get fake married while being real in love.

the best you'll never have- Rated M for sex reasons. I love the tagline: "Someone else's wedding is something that can actually be so personal". It's a Blackmadhi complicated relationship, what relationship, they weren't actually dating but also...

Apollo and the Artist (1975 - Oil paint, wax crayon, pencil, collage)- Rated M for mentioned sex reasons. Apollo is not an art person. But to Klavier he is art... and also a person. They've known each other for 8 years and it's probably been coming for just as long. It was a long time coming.

darling i'd wait for you (even if you didn't ask me to)- Wrightworth fake date bc Edgeworth needs a plus one to a wedding for some guy, it's not really important. But the cake sucks.

A Knight in a Loud Red Suit- oh my god oh my god oh my god Klavier gets shot and Apollo stabs a guy. And also love confessions at the hospital. They could have me also if they wanted.

Written- Rated E for sex reasons. Edgeworth moonlights as a Steel Samurai fic writer, and due to it being an obvious coping mechanism for his life and feeling Maya finds out... and accidentally sends a fic to Phoenix who... finds out. Half of the smut is Edgeworth's own fanfic, so we get like... fanfic-ception. That doesn't really work with more than one syllable words, huh...

Lover Be Good to Me- Rated M for implied sex reasons. 5+1 klapollo wooing each other.

Love Love Love- Rated M for implied sex reasons. klapollo is messy in a good way and takes wayyyy too long to call themselves boyfriends. Set from middle of aa4 to past aa6.

delicate- Rated M for sex reasons. klapollo is messy in a bad way (long distance is hard) and they break up but it works out, I prommy. If you don't like angst you'll want to skip this one, though.

(i was) enchanted to meet you- klavquill! I love them, I need to read more fics with them. They meet at the Prosecutor gala for the first time and sparks fly. Actually, they were fireworks, but that's not important.

Process of Elimination- Rated M for sex reasons. One day I will read a fic where Blackmadhi is not complicated as hell. Can they ever talk about their feelings? Apparently I like this, though, bc I keep reading and recc'ing them. Um, Nahyuta is looking for a fuck buddy and by 'process of elimination' ends up deciding on Blackquill but whoops! Feelings.

feel your skin- Rated M for one boner. Klavier is infuriating AND wearing lipgloss and Apollo can't take it. Cue making out in the janitor's closet.

moribund- I keep thinking about this one so I need everyone else to read and think about it with me. Pre Gant busting, POV Lana has to help clean up his messes. This a comedy, mostly of errors.

chronophobia- StarrSkye (AngelxLana) Be forewarned, you are going to cry. Lana has done her time and is trying to find a way to reconnect with the most important people from her past.

Crash! Landing- Junithena, fantastic traumatized autistic representation, if I do say so myself as a traumatized autistic person. It is very sweet and Juniper is a real one. I need me one of those.

In Pursuit of Justice- This one is not yet complete, but I preemptively j'adore'd it. It's a klapollo. Sebastian is great. He says Apollo looks like a frog (accurate).

Witcheln Woes- Secret Santa klapollo and they are cute and Clay is alive and it is sooooo fluffy.

Samurai Swear- Maya making besties with Edgeworth! Maya and Phoenix being besties also! Dash of mutual pining wrigthworth.

Missing You/Missing Time- Ok, hear me out, yes, the mystical bullshit tag is accurate, and de-aging is a weird concept, but !!! It actually serves this story very well! It is a fanfic that feels like a fanfic, but sometimes you want that, you know? Not every fanfic needs to feel like Little Women. Established klapollo first I love yous.

[forestdeath1]

Sirius’s early maturity as a result of family views and traditions. Romantic and sexual behaviour

18+

First of all, I'd like to leave a link to this meta by @artemisia-black so I don't have to write the same things that are already covered. The part about boundaries is especially important.

Next, I'll add my perspective.

1. Most likely, Sirius couldn't be a playboy or casanova due to the social organisation of their society + his personal attitude towards boundaries of other people, including women, as described in the post above.

2. However, that doesn't say much about his sexuality and romantic behavior.

More likely JKR wanted to make him straight and prone to non-committed relationships, but canon itself says nothing about his sexuality and I think everyone can read him as they want. Honestly, I personally don't care who Sirius is sleeping with/not sleeping with in people’s HCs. I care about his personality, and his sexuality doesn't change anything about his canon characterisation, so I don't particularly see the point in arguing about his sexuality (straight/gay/bi/ace/whatever) with foam at the mouth. (And he is not queer coded.)

But there is some interesting things that I’d like to discuss.

1. First of all, why the playboy/casanova version seems the most untenable to me, besides what was written in the post above?

A bit about the school and society:

In my opinion, for the WW, it's quite illogical for a student to have a large number of sexual partners. Firstly, with whom? In some fanfics, Sirius finds a new partner almost every week and fucks someone every night. Where does he find so much time for casual sex at school/during the war and where do so many people wanting casual sex come from? No matter how handsome Sirius might be, not all girls and boys are willing to have casual sex. Most people want relationships, not casual sex.

So in my view, if in your headcanon Sirius never got out into the Muggle world of the 1970s, then he couldn't have had a large number of casual sexual partners at least in school, although the playboy reputation could have been there. To have that reputation, you don't need to do anything, just being charismatic and attractive. Reputation often precedes the person. Maybe that's why Remus said 'he always got the women'. They just paid attention to him. But if we consider the WW, especially the school, there's simply nowhere to get 'many partners' from.

2. Ignoring a girl as evidence of a certain sexuality.

The fact that Sirius ignored girls' glances at him doesn't say anything concrete. But it's often cited as an argument in favour of his homosexuality and/or asexuality.

But in reality, it can be interpreted in any way. As asexuality/homosexuality or simply as a demonstration that he really was attractive to many people, but Sirius himself, accustomed to such attention, no longer paid attention to the constant attention to him. When a person knows his attractiveness from his youth, he will not pay attention to every flirtation or every person who looks at him with lust. Often such attention can even be annoying.

Also, this character was probably well aware of his attractiveness and could see it in other people. The comments about Snape are very vivid. If appearance is not at all part of a person's values and they doesn’t pay attention to appearance, then a person is unlikely to insult someone based on their appearance - it’s usually a blind-spot. But attractive appearance, given by nature, are often seen as something that can't be taken away, it's always with you, and so the attitude is simple — if you can't wash your hair, fine, it's not that important. And knowing about his attractiveness and constantly receiving a lot of attention from other people – the value of this attention diminishes. A person just no longer pays attention to it.

That’s why he might have simply ignored the girl who was looking at him with interest (who had been studying with him and probably had been looking at him with interest for more than a day).

3. The age of consent. Early maturity. TW Underage.

The age of consent in the Muggle UK is 16 years old. And in the WW, people become adults earlier, at 17. However, Pollux became a father at 13. Cygnus became a father at 13. What was the age of consent? When did they get married? Was there even a concept of age of consent in the wizarding world? Perhaps their age of consent was 12 (given that in 1275, the first age of consent was set in England, at age 12 and only in 1875, the Offences Against the Person Act raised the age to 13 in Great Britain and Ireland, and the International Statute of Secrecy was signed in 1689, it's possible that wizards are still stuck with laws from that time). Or maybe Pollux and Cygnus got married later. For example, at 15 (17-2). Or maybe they have no concept of age of consent at all and there is no prohibition on marriage before reaching legal age, so they could get married whenever they wanted. Considering that marriages are magically contracted without the involvement of authorities, this option seems viable.

I'm not here to judge fictional characters, I'm discussing facts from the canon. There is every reason to believe that for some families in the WW, "maturity" came much earlier than it does for us now, and it wasn't nonsense. Rather, it was casual liaisons that were condemned as something that could cause unwanted pregnancies. But not marriage and sex itself before the age of 17.

Even in our time and in our society "an estimated 55% of teens have had sexual intercourse by age 18". These percentages have gradually declined since 1988 when 51 per cent of female and 60 per cent of male teens have ever had sex".

Your right to consider this something bad and refuse to write/speak about it, but it was, is, and always will be a part of teenage life, and judging by the Blacks, in the WW, the attitude towards this was quite... "old-fashioned", if it concerned marriage and childbearing.

I am inclined to believe that it was the Blacks who had this attitude towards early marriage and early childbirth, and therefore towards early sex, BUT not casual sex, because nobody wanted unwanted pregnancy.

And this could have influenced Sirius's attitude towards himself, his sexuality, and how mature he considered himself. Sorry, but when your grandfather became a father at 13, as did your uncle... well, you definitely look at growing up a little differently. He put up Muggle posters too because his parents were annoyed not by the fact that he was a 14-15 year old thinking about sex (although he might not have thought about it at all, he just knew it would piss his mum off), but by the fact that he was thinking about sex with mudbloods, which horrified his parents.

Just imagine what must be going through the mind of a 14-15 year old who decided to piss his parents off. What would James do? Well, paint the room red. Put dung bombs on the head of everyone who walked in. What did Sirius do? Erotic posters (women in swimming costumes are erotic posters to their world).

In my opinion, this says a lot about all the Blacks and the fact that they have some peculiarities in their family dynamics. Where did he even get the idea for this, if Sirius and the Blacks were innocent in their attitude towards teenage sex and growing up? I can totally see them yelling at him after these posters 'if you get someone pregnant, you'll really regret it!'.

The posters themselves don't say anything about Sirius's real intentions or his sexuality – he could have just put them up to piss her mother off, knowing that it would annoy her, or he himself might have liked them.

Meanwhile, James and his parents probably had a different dynamic, and they probably treated James as a child for much longer. So James matured sexually in his mind later. His parents probably didn't even talk about such things. And considering that they went to a conservative school, then further than kissing for him at 15 was probably not even a topic, if they even got to kissing.

Most likely, Sirius's 'early maturity' and all these posters are exactly the result of intra-family traditions and views.

4. It's confirmed by Word of God that he didn't have a girlfriend, but…

If we consider only the books as canon, then we don't know anything about his girlfriend/boyfriend, and he could have had some romantic relationships, because the canon itself doesn't say anything about it.

But I'll specifically analyze the case with 'Word of God':

Well, Sirius never had time to get a girlfriend, let alone marry.

Sirius was too busy being a big rebel to get married.

This means only one thing: he didn't give any commitments. That's it. It doesn't mean anything more than that. He could have had no partners at all, meaning he could have been focused only on friendship. Or he could have had a sexual partner (of any gender) without commitments. One or more. Who mutually wanted this. And these relationships didn't take up much of his time.

Non-committal relationships can be with sufficient respect for the partner. This doesn't make the character a Casanova/Playboy/fuckboy.

In the monoromantic concept of serious relationships, respect for the partner is often perceived only within the context of monoromantic relationships. But that’s not the only option. In non-committal relationships, there can also be a lot of respect for the other person's boundaries because the person isn't lying about their attitude (unwillingness to have a serious relationship), does not pile on false promises and usually does not confess eternal love. But playboys and casanovas can often lie to get someone into bed.

The view on purity and filth is very interesting, but in my opinion, purity for the Blacks is conceptually not the same purity as for the upper class in the Muggle world raised in a Christian reverent tradition. Purity is primarily 'noble blood.' To be pure is to be noble, and Sirius has his own understanding of nobility, not based on blood purity. For him, honor and nobility mean being loyal to friends, being honest, not betraying, and that's why he uses epithets of impurity for Peter. Peter lacks nobility.

As I said, having one/several partners without commitments doesn't automatically make the character a playboy and casanova – in other words, it's not about the Erot of perverted Aphrodite – people who love only the body, not the inner world (seeing people as objects, ignoring the person as a whole).

So, taking into account the Word of God, I actually see only two options.

He didn't have sexual relationships at all/tried it and didn't like it/ wasn't interested/ found it not very interesting or just was more focused on his friends and other things in his life.

Or the second option – he had non-committal relationships, which were always based on respect for the partner, but it was never like 'my girlfriend/boyfriend,' more like sexually-friendly relationships where he treated his partner not just as an object for sex but as a person.

The third option, if we discard the Word of God – he could have had regular monogamous romantic relationships of any nature with any gender, as there's nothing in the canon about his sexuality.

As I said, I don't think it fundamentally changes anything about his characterisation, so no matter what his sexuality is, he should retain his canon personality traits.

[platonically-loving-alastor]

Aroace Alastor

Hoo boy here we go- This one might make some people mad at me, so I'll preface by saying I do not want to start a fight and as long as you respect my business, I'll respect yours. But let's get this over with-

First off, I genuinely don't understand how some people can see the Ace-In-The-Hole quote and still believe that Alastor is only intended to be asexual and not also aromantic. Yes, the term Rosie used for purpose of the pun was 'ace', but can we look at the context of that moment before jumping to conclusions?

Rosie, motioning to Charlie: "Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you! Oh, I'm just kidding. I know you're an ace in the hole!"

Her original statement implies nothing sexual, only that he's involved in a relationship with Charlie, and she follows it up with why she knows that couldn't be because he's an 'ace in the hole'. I don't think you have to read too far between the lines to see that.

I would also like to say that when Vivienne has spoken about his orientation before, I recall her saying that she didn't want to confirm him being aromantic so that she wouldn't 'ruin anyone's fun', which I just feel like is an odd thing to say if she wasn't already explicitly picturing him as aroace. If she thought he had romantic attraction, why wouldn't she just say that? What fun would that ruin? I also feel like keeping things like this ambiguous just to appease the shippers is a little weird, but I digress-

And to those of you who I know are saying "But aromantic people can be in relationships too!!" *deep inhale* yeah I know. I'm not gonna pretend you're not right about that, but there are also aroace people who have exactly 0 interest in romance or sex at all. This is the part of the post that really is based on how I interpret certain moments, but to me he is absolutely one of those people. I don't really know where people get any vibes of him being interested in that stuff. I have never once looked at him and thought "Yeah I could see him in a romantic relationship with *insert character here*". Even aside from attraction in general, since that's what we'd be talking about at this point anyway, he just seems like the kind of guy who'd rather work and live independently instead of relying on anyone, whether practically or emotionally (which is also probably part of the reason he never joined the Vees, but that's another topic entirely). Hell, I'm pretty sure he's in heavy denial about even developing any kind of care or friendship with the people at the hotel (ie. the episode 8 scene with him and Niffty).

The only ships I see him involved in with people he doesn't hate (so ignoring RadioApple, RadioHusk, and StaticRadio. But to be real, maybe the fact all his main ships are enemies to lovers coded says something about the whole situation, but that's just me-) are Charlastor - which I will not even try to discuss here, people aren't gonna like this post as it is - and RadioRose. Rosie and him would at least be fair, if it weren't for one thing (which is also personal opinion on my end), and I don't know exactly how to word it. I'm tempted to say she has wingwoman vibes? But she knows he's aro, so that's not the right word, but there's vibes of like, she probably did act as a wingwoman before she realized that about him or something.. There's also something about her joking around like "Oh this is the girl? You have a girlfriend and I'm only now meeting her?" is almost giving motherly behavior. Idk man they're just besties to me, I could see them in a QPR though (not that they'd probably label it that way, considering the word queerplatonic is likely just complete gibberish to Alastor lmao).

So to summarize: It feels incredibly likely, if not practically canon, that Alastor was written with aromanticism in mind, even if Vivienne refuses to explicitly state it. Subtext and not-that-subtle implications can say just as much about a character as word of God, especially when that God has explicitly told us why she won't confirm or deny this information. Do I think any of this will stop people from shipping him romantically with literally any other character? No ofc it won't, and that's okay, that's just what fandoms do. I do think there's something to say for the fact the one aroace (or even at the very least asexual) character gets constantly shipped with everyone else in the cast, but this post is long enough I think. The only point of posting this is that I wanted to get information out there in one post to say "Hey, let's look a little bit past the surface for a second before saying there's no proof of him being aromantic"

Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you at least took something away from this

[amongemeraldclouds]

The Slytherin Boys as Bridgerton Brothers

Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Some also features x f!Reader as their equivalent partner.

© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I publish my written work.

✿ Masterlist | 808 words | Based on the Netflix show

Dearest Gentle Reader,

This author is pleased to present the dashing, young Slytherins as their Bridgerton counterpart should they ever grace the ton with their presence.

Theodore Nott as Anthony Bridgerton

𝄞 Theodore Nott as Anthony Bridgerton would be a walking contradiction, oscillating between his responsibilities as a viscount who had to grow up too soon and a rake who refuses to grow up.

𝄞 While attending school at Oxford, he never had to worry about grades as he’s naturally intelligent and can ace his classes with little effort. He’s also generally interested in learning so he never has to force himself to study.

𝄞 This allows him more time to goof off with his classmates so they would go on countless adventures and get into all sorts of trouble. Nothing that would stick of course, given their high status in society and the privilege that comes with it. 

𝄞 Given the early loss of his father, he becomes the viscount at a young age and assumes responsibility for their people and his family. It feeds into his serious and introverted side and he initially has strong opinions on Daphne’s suitors, thinking he knows what’s best for her.

𝄞 When he challenged Simon to duel, part of it would be to defend Daphne’s honor, but another part would be his subconscious tendency towards self-destruction.

𝄞 Secretly, he envies and resents his siblings for not having to bear the responsibilities he had to. Still, he cares for them and always tries his best.

𝄞 He prefers having sex with only one partner, but if he doesn’t have one, he will frequent brothels to get his urges satisfied. He never hesitates to do what he needs to do, both in business and his personal life.

𝄞 When he finally opens himself up to marriage, he initially has a strategic plan, refusing to be swept away by whimsical notions of love. All it ever brought was pain, no thank you.

𝄞 And then he met you. The woman he lost a horse race to, the woman who could best him at pall-mall and is not afraid to get her hands dirty, literally. The woman who could carry herself in a hunt. His match.

𝄞 He rarely fell in love, if at all. But when he fell, he fell utterly and hopelessly in love.

𝄞 In his words, “I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening. How much you consume my very being.” He was never one for moderation.

Mattheo Riddle as Benedict Bridgerton

₊✧ As an aspiring artist, Mattheo Riddle enjoys drawing and often has charcoal or ink stains on his hands, just like Benedict Bridgerton.

₊✧ He likes smoking in general and usually bonds with his sister, Eloise, through their regular smoking sessions on the swing. They confide their dreams and fears with each other.

₊✧ He is closest to Anthony, who often seeks his support as the second son.

₊✧ Once he dives into the art scene away from the prestige of the ton, behind doors closed and with curtains drawn, he is pleasantly surprised to discover the sensual side to these parties.

₊✧ He regularly attends these parties for sketching, booze, and orgies - everything his creative heart could desire.

₊✧ He is genuinely passionate about his art and hopes to get into art school of his own accord.

₊✧ He will not hesitate to turn to substances when he needs to relax, even if it means over consuming Colin’s calming tea to soothe his anxiety of getting into art school.

₊✧ He got so wasted that he found himself screaming in exultation from the windows of their quiet countryside home when he was accepted into art school. 

Lorenzo Berkshire as Colin Bridgerton

❥ Much like Colin Bridgerton, Lorenzo Berkshire is also a free spirit who enjoys traveling and sharing stories of his adventures.

❥ Life of the party, he loves joking around with others.

❥ He is loyal to and protective of his family, always ready to support his siblings, especially his older brothers when needed.

❥ However, when he sets his sights on a goal, he is headstrong and not afraid to pursue things on his own. Whether it’s courting Marina or making investments in an attempt to find his purpose.

❥ Given his penchant to see the good in others, he can sometimes come off as naive but is open to learning from his failures.

❥ He remains a romantic idealist, but often has his head in the clouds that he overlooks your affections and only sees you as a loyal friend.

❥ Everything changes when he gets closer with you and your confidence grows the more autonomy you have with choosing your own gowns, for example. He starts to consider you less like a friend and more romantically.

❥ He better get his hands and knees ready for all the groveling he will go through to win your affections after he denied and rejected you for so long.

✿ Masterlist <- read more

Author’s note:

✿ Wrote this while eagerly awaiting Bridgerton season 3. ✿ I will go absolutely feral when Benedict’s season arrives. That man is already so gorgeous, how are they going to give him a glow up? Losing my mind 🥵

[bomberqueen17]

it came from the notes

Ha I reblogged this post a bit ago and happened to see this in the notes from @uxbridgeenglishdictionary

[image descriptions: tumblr tags reading #also hi bomberqueen17 #love your work #is your Morvran demi]

HA yes. Busted. He is, because I tend to write demisexuals into everything I write. He's more of a Trauma Ace than me, and his specific manifestation of demi is not quite like mine, but yeah that's him. Sexual Attraction Isn't Real And They're Making It Up, he thinks, Or Maybe I'm Just Broken, Probably That's It, Glad Everybody Else Is Having Fun But I'm Better Off Out Of It, and then he gets hit with the Oh She's Competent stick really hard and doesn't know what to do with himself for a good while.

Wait till he realizes that like almost every demisexual I know, he's bi too. Actually I feel like there should be a different word for that entire mode of attraction, because it's not a separate thing at all. "Demi-bisexual" sounds really weird and clunky and not right but almost every person I know who manages to figure out they're demi also has, as a feature of their specifically-demisexual mode of attraction, the major component that the things that will tick their boxes until they hit the "attraction" tipping point tend not to include gender as a salient or primary point (or, I think in many cases, as a point at all). For me it's someone being funny, really smart, into me, a huge dork, good at witty turns of phrase or at least corny puns, and reasonably kind, and whether they have a penis or a vulva or neither or something else entirely, I really don't care and genuinely don't have a preference. And that experience (not the specifics but the generals) is so common, even universal among people I talk to who are demi, that I almost think demisexual probably implies some flavor of bi, too, largely by definition. I'm not really worried about the label, I really feel like it's an "if you know you know" kind of thing, but like. We know.

For Morvran, his specifics are "competent, terrifying, niceys to me", mostly I think, though we'll have to see. (I haven't actually written in a male character for him to get pantsfeelings about, as such, but I have some ideas, which I may or may not wind up exploring but just know, it's there and it's a thing.)

I was hesitant over making him demi because I was worried that sex-repulsed aces would be disappointend and like, ok, but my beta was like "dude there's nothing wrong with being demi and it's not letting down the side" and i realized that was definitely an internalized kind of self-loathing demiphobic instict right there, astutely pointed out. I should write a sex-repulsed ace character sympathetically sometime, and I will (probably I have?? idk I do tend to digress into porn a lot so it's hard to say, and I don't fuckin remember), but I've let my id lay the groundwork for Morvran's demi awakening and it would be weird to not do that.

*deep sigh* as I've said before, I'm a pony of a limited number of tricks but they're like, good tricks, mostly, and there's no harm in trying to learn new ones but it's also not like a bad thing to use my favorite ones. It's not like the world is completely drowning in nuanced, informed demisexual representation.

[zakumipink]

Attention.

The following may be misinterpreted or offend someone, but please know that is not the intention. I just want to make a point and kindly ask you to stop sending me the same advice... I'm not going to change my writing style to something "serious" or add more drama. I'm not going to change Sabo for Luffy, nor will I change Law for Ace or Lucci. I pair Law and Sabo. I have no problem with you liking Law/Luffy; Ace/Sabo; Lucci/Sabo or whatever. Nor that they only like to read about sex, smut, torture, violence, canonical plots, infidelity, abuse, etc... but I just want to do my silly comedies.

Please, friends, when I write fanfics I tend to exaggerate characteristics, traumas or events of the characters, but it is part of my creative freedom. I write alternate universes, I like comedy, silly romance, misunderstandings and cheesy clichés... I'm not looking for the canon, I want adventures and laughter, to have a good time.

The stories are also written as i like to read fanfics. I don't write them to be "literary works" or "gems of the fandom" they are just fanfics that I WANT TO READ. I write it because it amuses me, because it makes me happy. I don't want praise, insults or your complaints about why you don't think they're good... They're not good, they're crap. So what? Should I be offended? I'm not offended, because they make me happy and it's supposed to be a hobby. My hobby. Mine. I should like it, it should make me happy.

I never say anything about this, but I get tired of receiving bad vibes for something that shouldn't affect anyone on such a personal level... Nobody asked you to read, nobody forces you to see Law and Sabo as a couple. Take charge of your own shit, I'm not responsible for what you search for on the internet. Read my fanfics if you want, but pay attention to the tags.

And I'm just making this post to answer about eye color... I like that Sabo has blue eyes, even if in the anime they look grey, or in some covers they are gold. So also with Law, in some games his eyes are gold/brown and in the anime they look grey. I will use whatever color I want... until they officially decide on one. Because the vast majority of characters, inside One Piece, or get angry/surprised/scared have gray eyes. And most of the time they are just black dots like eyes.

Write your own fanfics, shove canon up your ass, and let me be happy with the altered reality where a lot of dumb stuff happens, like Law and Sabo adopting an alien baby or Doctor Law finding a mermaid Sabo, or where they are vampires, but not the typical vampire sexual gore, but a silly comedy with cheesy scenes and bloody kisses.

Please don't message me asking me to change fanfics to Law x Luffy either. I'M NOT INTERESTED. I don't care if it's the most popular couple or if a lot of people are going to read this... I already explained that this is my hobby and therefore it is ME who should be made happy. There are thousands of Law and Luffy fanfics, just click on one and that's it.

So? Nothing. Let me write what i want.

[sukunasweetheart]

Headcanons for sukuna as a volleyball player - idk if i wanted this to be set during highschool or not so i guess it'll be kinda generic or all over the place haha,, dedicated to @luvkun4 my love, who likes haikyuu and sukuna so its a perfect combo for her

warnings; NSFW, throat fucking, rough and angry sex, degradation, femme reader, youre kinda his pocket pu$$y but also his sweet gf, minor angst but with happy end -- this wouldve been a good fic but i dont have the energy for a fully written fic nowadays, im alr working on a billion rn

edit; THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LENGTHYY sorry, i wanted to add in the drama

right.. idk from where i should unpack this

we all know... sukuna would be competitive as fuck.

i know for a fact that he hates losing so much

which is what makes him such a good player tbh, the balls not gonna touch the ground as long as hes around

he’s a wing spiker, and definitely the ace (cough, totally not inspired by this gorgeous fanart)

hes so mean and arrogant but is willing to demonstrate teamwork in order to win and so theres obvious respect between him and his teammates

uraume is the manager, tho its clear that they favour sukuna the most pff

sukunas such a powerful player, no one can beat him one on one and hes so sexy when hes playing seriously

volleyball sukuna and his fuckin horse cock, u bet u wanna get wrecked by his shii

problem is, i cant find a creative way of how yall first met 

idk, probably through mutual friends, out in a big group at a restaurant ?? maybe you hooked up with him afterwards and you both caught feelings for each other

yeah something along those lines

anyway ofc seggs after matches are a regular thing haha

its almost an expectation that you come to see his games now

here comes the smut smut smut

vb sukuna would totally drag you into the unisex bathrooms so you can “help him relax” right before the game starts...

nothing like cumming down your throat to get him all warmed up

and youre such a whore for him, you can never say no bc YOU DONT WANT TOOO <3

even tho you make a fuss about the icky floor pfft, he grunts and lays a bunch of toilet paper for u to kneel on, what a gentleman

his soft groans as he lodges his thick cock into your warm mouth, and then pushing your head down to go even deeper

the pleasures just too great, the thrilling mixture of being in a public toilet right before a big match, fucking your tight throat raw

and your teary eyes, fluttering your lashes up at him with a mouthful of dick, he could laugh from how adorable you look

after hes done spurting stringy thick ropes of his seed down your esophagus hes just: “thanks babe... you sucked the nerves right outta me.”

and you know its bullshit bc hes smirking in that sarcastic way, and its a fact that sukuna doesnt know what it feels to be nervous!!!

lucky for you, he treats you better than anyone else - he wipes your mouth and kisses you before parting ways with you

likes to give you another smirk once he finds you amongst the audience

its crazy how much energy he still has after games

on the rare occasions when his team loses... oh boy

100% takes his frustration out using sex

just thinking abt the simmering anger...practically throws you onto his bed

pins your body down and slamming into you with his whole body weight

ruins you so bad, bruises and bites literally everywhere

but like... you’re into that shit

butterflies in stomach whenever the other team ends up winning

“ugh...fuckin’ squeezing me like that... you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“maybe you like it when i lose a game. what a whore.”

“sukuna...sukuna, too bi-big..”

“oh? and you’d think this cunt would be pretty used to it by now,” he responds cockily. it turns you on when he uses such vulgar language.

spills so many loads into you, youre like a cream filled donut by the end

spanks you too, handprints on your ass and all - omg imagine the strength as a vb player

the aftercare is nice, usually he brings you to the bath immediately and check you out if you need ointment applied to your skin or vice versa

but it wouldnt be surprising if he got lazy with it on some days, especially after an exhausting game, having sex on top of that is gotta be tough

also he spends a lot of time training and practicing, which adds to your loneliness

sometimes you overthink it and feel like youre just being used, but instead of communicating it, you just act more sensitively around him

and vb sukuna sucks at picking up the small cues, so he just thinks youre being unreasonable

the two of you get into a pretty heated argument which ends with you storming off one time

theres a bit of silent treatment going on, but then afterwards you start talking with him “normally” again

theres an obvious distance growing between you and him, and your attitude is colder than it used to be. sukuna thinks its something thatll pass sooner or later

but then you text him, saying that you wont be able to come and see his game

thats not right. hes had a few fights with you before, but you’ve never skipped out on coming to watch him like this, ever.

but being a prideful tsundere he is, he just replies with a “do whatever you want” before chucking his phone off to the side (which he checks later again, to see if you said anything more after that. you didnt.)

on the day of the match, hes constantly checking the crowd if youre there

its not like *glance* he cares *glance* about you coming *glance* or anything *glance*

his mates raise eyebrows and tell him to focus properly and hes never looked scarier lmao

they won in the end, but the taste of victory isnt the same

the group wants to celebrate and go to some restaurant to eat but he skips out and goes home alone

and when he opens his door to an empty and dark living room, he cant shake off the feeling of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach

totally doesnt google search “signs of an incoming breakup”

feels worse afterwards

eats a nice and nutritious meal he cooked for himself, but it tastes kinda like cardboard

i said previously that sukuna doesnt know what feeling nervous is, but now he does, hes terrified youre gonna pull the breakup card on him, he wont know how to deal with that

he has a feeling that if he doesnt do something about this now, he will lose his chance forever

sukuna calls you but you dont pick up

he finds his way to your front door and rings the bell, and you call out from the other side asking him what he wants from you

“why didnt you pick up any of my calls? i want to talk.”

he hates how whiny he sounds.

you crack open the door ever so slightly, so only one of your eyes are visible to him

“about what?”

“about... this. about us.”

“...you’ve been crying. let me in.”

he gently pushes open your door and you stand out of the way, letting him

...and he starts with an apology. about saying mean things to you during the argument, about acting like he doesnt care when he does (he cares so much abt you that it drives him mad), pretending not to notice how upset you were

you watch him sternly, but end up bursting into tears bc youre so relieved he came out and admitted to his faults, and that theres hope for this relationship

youre bawling as he pulls you into his arms, and you confess that not going to see him and treating him coldly was the hardest thing youve ever done in your life

sukunas so relieved you still feel deeply for him, and simultaneously upset bc youre upset

you reveal that youve been feeling neglected, feeling like he only liked you for your body, and you too, apologise for not communicating that and acting sensitively instead

hes appalled, calls you an idiot but then retracts that statement and denies ever having thought in that way

the two of you snuggle up so close together in your bed, communicating and chatting and catching up for hours while he occasionally eyes the mountain of used tear-filled tissues in your room, rather concerned

for a while, he doesnt initiate sexual activity unless you specifically want it bc he wants to prove he likes spending quality time with you just as much <3

and when sex does eventually happen, he makes it very romantic and meaningful, with proper aftercare, continuously whispering “i love you,” throughout

and he shall do anything to have you keep loving him back.

some general stuff with vb sukuna:

mad tall. i wont give an exact number but anywhere between 195 - 200cm tall :>

mad horny. hes like an animal

hes such a big eater,, i mean, i see sukuna as a big eater in any au but this one in particular bc hes an athlete haha

u probably make protein shakes for him and stuff, but hes not rly on a strict diet or anything, he just eats anything and everything

has a lotta fangirls >:( but he ignores them now, after he met you >:) but before, he probably played around a lot and hooked up with some >:( he never liked any of them to stick around, tho >:) except you >:)

goes on morning runs, at like 6am and gives u a kiss on the cheek beforehand

is so fucking touchy clingy, always needs you on his lap, hands under your skirt or shirt

the last guy who tried to hit on you got a nosebleed, getting hit with a volleyball (its so funny, he changed his aim mid-spike during a practice match)

haha he was sent to the bench for that one (everyone was chuckling behind their hands)

the headband was given to him by you, bc he once complained abt having to gel his hair every morning + gel doesnt keep his hair in shape when hes sweating excessively

thats all for today <3 thanks for reading

Masterlist

tagging; @yuujispinkhair @moonchild-artemisdaughter @skunaskitten

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 5: You're the One That I Want

Summary: You and Javi spend the day running errands when you encounter a few unexpected surprises. After returning back to your apartment, you both face the reality that your weekend together is coming to an end, hoping for more time together soon.

Word Count: 10.6K (I am so genuinely sorry, there's A LOT goin' on in this chapter.)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), vaginal fingering, creampie, car sex, semi-public sex, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy scares, mentions of periods, mentions of food, sweet Javi being embarrassed about his past, Javi having it SO bad for you...Lorraine....

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's liked and reblogged, this is my first ever fic that I've written and I'm so glad people are enjoying it!!! 🥺 This chapter has a lot that happens and I already had to split it up once (yikes on my part), excited to write about what these two crazy kids are up to next!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

You rummaged through your drawers to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and a form fitting sage green tank top, knowing that a Laredo 80 degree day felt like a Chicago 95. You normally would have gone baggy, oversized t-shirt, but given your company, you decided to up your wardrobe choices. Javi leaned against your doorway, arms folded and jaw slack as he watched you get dressed. He had already spent the majority of the morning with you naked, yet something about you putting on more clothes made him half hard again. It didn’t help that you had purposefully picked a black, lacy thong and skimpier than usual sports bra to go under your outfit. You looked yourself over in the mirror before meeting Javi in the doorway. 

“Ready?” 

“You sure we have to go? You’re killin’ me dressed like that, Osita.” 

“Yes, we do, or I am going to die of starvation in my own home.” You pressed up on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. 

You did one last check of your kitchen before grabbing your grocery list, purse and keys and slipping on your shoes by your front door. Javi followed suit, trailing behind you as you led your way down the stairs to the parking lot. It was only 11:00 AM, but the hot Texas sun was already beating down, radiating heat waves from the asphalt. Reaching the parking lot, you both unknowingly began walking in separate directions. “Okay, so I’m thinking I’ll probably do my non-food stops first and then we can go to the grocery store after so nothing bakes too much in the car. God is it always this hot? Does that work?” Silence. “Javi?” You turned around to find that Javi had gone in the complete opposite direction “Where are you going?!” You shouted.

“My car is parked over here? Where are you going?” 

“My car is parked over here” you pointed in the direction you were walking. 

“Let me drive.” 

“Do you think I’m not a good driver? Is it because I’m a woman? That’s a little sexist, don’t ya think?” 

“What?! No I never said that?” 

“Javi, I’m joking. I’m more than capable of driving.” 

“I know you are, but I’m offering.” 

You thought for a minute about pushing back again, but your boiling state in the blistering heat was a painful reminder you desperately needed to get your car AC fixed, and you weren’t going to subject Javi to burning alive with you. 

“Fine.” You said with a huff of defeat, changing directions and making your way back toward Javi. You got to his truck as he opened up the passenger door for you and you muttered under your breath. 

“And you think I’m the stubborn one.” 

“I heard that.” 

As Javi started his car, he pushed open the overhead compartment over the driver’s side to pull out a pair of yellow tinted aviators. It was truly unfair that this man found ways to keep getting hotter. The cool breeze from the AC hit your face as soft music played from the stereo.

“Where to first, Osita?” 

“Toy-R-Us.”

Javi raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Not for me, dummy. My niece turns 5 in a few weeks and even though I’m not close by, I still want to get her a birthday present. It should be quick, I think I know what I want to get her. Then we can go grocery shopping.” 

Javi nodded in agreement as he backed out of his parking spot and you two hit the road. 

“Didn’t know that you were an Aunt.” 

“Yeah, my oldest brother, Charlie, has two little girls, 5 and 3, and he and his wife are expecting another one that’s due in November. Neither of my other brothers have kids. They’re the cutest. I miss them, don’t want Olivia to think I’m a deadbeat Aunt who forgot her birthday.” 

“My old DEA partner Steve and his wife have a daughter named Olivia. Maybe a little bit older than your niece. Been a while since I’ve caught up with him.” 

Javi could vividly remember the day he and Steve brought Olivia home to Connie, Steve’s wife. Crying and scared, Javi watching as they immediately wrapped little Olivia in their arms, showering her with love and affection. The 3 of them looked so perfect together, accepting the little girl into their family. While Javi congratulated them and told them he was happy Olivia would be in a safe home, he would never reveal the sting he felt knowing his chances of having what the Murphy’s did grew slimmer and slimmer with each day that passed in Colombia. 

Before he left, Javi had always hoped he’d have a family. He loved his parents so dearly, and wished that one day he could have a resemblance of what they did with the person he loved. His relationship with Lorraine had left him hurt and scorned, as he had almost gotten what he had wished for, but with a woman who couldn’t have cared less about him. By the time he left Colombia, he had written the idea off completely. He was tired. Broken. Scared by the things he had seen, worse yet, done. If he could barely keep himself together, how the hell was he supposed to have a family? He couldn’t imagine burdening someone else, let alone children, with the weight he carried with him. That was until 5 days ago on a Wednesday afternoon in late May. That was until he met you. 

“That’s nice that you still keep in touch with him.” You wanted to ask more, but for now, you would take any information you could get about his life before you. 

“Yeah, Steve’s a good guy. Pain in my ass, but meant well.” 

“You seem to attract a type.” 

“And what would that be?” 

“A pain in your ass.” 

Javi shook his head and chuckled. “You’re a lot cuter than Steve. Makes it a little easier to forgive you.” You playfully punched him, the two of you laughing softly to yourselves as Javi reached his free hand down to set it on the bare skin of your thigh. You sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying his thumb trace gently around your flesh. It was a surprisingly quick trip to the Toys-R-Us. Javi’s truck pulled into a parking spot as you began debriefing him on what you needed as you walked into the store. 

“Okay so when I talked on the phone with Olivia last week, she told me she really wants Polly Pockets. I’m just worried because the pieces are so small and I don’t want her sister to accidentally choke on them. I feel like a lot of the Kindergarteners really like those Sky Dancers but they always break. Her mom says she’s been into Pokémon cards but I feel like she’ll get bored of them.” 

“Poké-what? Osita, I have no idea what the hell any of that means.” 

“Right, sorry, I forgot not everyone spends the majority of their time with 8 year olds. This is all I hear about day in and day out, so I might as well put my knowledge to good use.” 

Javi followed you through the brightly colored aisles, stopping as you occasionally would pick up a toy to examine it and then put it back down. As you walked, you talked about your favorite toys from childhood, Javi’s being his collection of Hot Wheels cars that he was convinced his dad still had somewhere in the attic, yours being your Lite Brite because it was the only thing your brothers wouldn’t try to take from you. You continued your journey until you stopped at a brightly colored bear holding a marker. “This one is perfect. My class loves these Doodle Bears. The bear is cute, she can draw on it and wash it off, and Charlie isn’t gonna be pissed that it needs batteries or will take forever to set up. Perfect.” 

“Nice pick, Osita. Seems fitting.” 

“I keep forgetting that means bear. Guess it is fitting.” You giggled as you plucked the bear off the shelf and began heading back towards the front of the store to check out. As you walked side by side, Javi reached down to grab your hand and interlock his fingers with yours. Neither of you said anything, but you didn’t need to. The smile on both of your faces said everything. 

You made your way to the checkout lines, the store being fairly busy for a Sunday Afternoon. You settled on what seemed to be the shortest one, with only a mom, her husband and two little boys in front of you. 

“TYLER  AND SAMUEL DOOGAN, I SWEAR IF YOU DO NOT STOP CLIMBIN’ ALL OVER THIS CART THIS INSTANT, I WILL TAKE AWAY ALL OF YOUR POKÉMON CARDS FOR THE ENTIRE SUMMER.” You could feel the frustration radiating from the petite woman in front of you without even seeing her face. She turned around to face her husband standing behind her, reading a video game magazine, completely oblivious to his children’s antics. “Randy, can you please just tell them to get off? BOYS, ENOUGH.” 

“Yeah, sure honey… Boys, you heard your mother, get down.” Randy muttered, not bothering to take his eyes off the magazine or even attempt to sound convincing. 

You said nothing, knowing all too well how big of a pain kids could be, but when you turned up to look at Javi, his face had gone ghost white. 

“Oh, fuck…” He muttered under his breath, just barely loud enough for you to hear. 

“You okay?” 

“Uh yeah, um-” His eyes darted frantically back and forth across the checkout aisles. “Um, it looks like there’s a shorter line over-” 

“Javi?” The woman’s Texan twang spoke to him with an unsettling sense of familiarity. 

“Hi, Lorraine.” 

Oh shit. The wires in your brain clicked as you remember your co-workers mentioning their disdain for this woman. You still weren’t quite sure of her connection to Javi, but given his drained face and her snappy demeanor, you had a feeling this woman was bad news. 

“Heard you’re back for good. How are things?” 

“Uh, yeah. They’re fine. How about you?” You could practically feel the tension in Javi’s body. 

“Fine. TYLER I SWEAR TO GOD.” She whipped her head around once again to yell at the fidgety boy. 

“Randy, you remember Javi.” 

Randy and Javi said nothing to each other and only exchanged painful grimaces, acknowledging the uncomfortable circumstance they found themselves in. 

“What the hell you doin’ at a Toys-R-Us?” 

You piped in, trying to give Javi any relief you could. “It’s um, my niece’s birthday. Just going shopping to get her something.” 

“And you are?” 

Stunned by her bluntness, you found yourself speechless. “Oh, um, I’m um-” 

“She’s my girlfriend.” 

His what?! 

Javi gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. This trip was definitely not going as expected. 

“Ah.” Her cold gaze met your shock. “Just be careful with this one.” 

“Lorraine…” 

“Fine, I won’t say anything else. Just figured she deserved a warning.” 

“Lorraine, enough.” You had never heard his voice get that stern. Whatever had gone on between them had definitely not ended on good terms. “Looks like you got what you wanted anyways.” He gestured to the two boys now running wild up and down the checkout line, and Randy absent mindedly staring into his magazine. 

If Lorraine’s looks could kill, Javi would be a dead man. Her brow scrunched deeper in anger. “Well, good to see you Javi.” She snapped back around as she picked up the bags at the end of the checkout aisle and grabbed both boys by the back of their shirts. “RANDY! Let’s go!” Finally coming to, Randy meandered behind, following Lorraine and the two squirming boys in her grasp. 

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered to himself, running both of his hands over his face. 

“Next in line!” 

You checked out silently, figuring waiting to get back to the car was a better place to discuss what the hell just happened. The only thing breaking the dead silence on the way back to the truck was the occasional grunt or heavy sigh from Javi. You both took your perspective seats in the car as he started the engine. 

“Soooooo… I’m not one to pry, but uh, what happened back there?” 

“Fuck, Osita, I’m so sorry.” His fists were basically white knuckling the steering wheel at this point. 

“Javi, why are you sorry?” 

“Just- fuck. Her and how she talked to you, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she seemed delightful.” Javi stared at the roof of his car, breathing deeply. Jokes weren’t going to help the situation. You reached out to grab his arm, causing him to shift his gaze at you. “Javi, like I said, I don’t want to pry, but I promise, whatever you tell me, I’m not gonna judge you for it. I get that shit happens, and it obviously seems like Lorraine isn’t the nicest, I’m sure there’s a good reason for whatever happened between you two. 

He let out a few deep breaths, formulating his response. “It’s a long story.” 

“I’ve got plenty of time.” 

You grabbed his arm a little tighter, hoping that your sympathetic stare was enough to prove that you weren’t here to judge him for his past. 

“Okay. Are you hungry? Do you wanna get lunch and talk about it?” 

“I can always eat. What’d you have in mind?” 

“There’s a sandwich place a few minutes from here. Been going there a lot since I started the new job. It’s pretty good. Does that work?” 

“Love me a good sandwich. Sounds great, Javi.” 

He nodded as you gave his muscles one more squeeze before letting him go so he could back out of his parking spot. You waited until he was back on the road to bring up the other no so subtle bomb that had just been dropped. 

“Girlfriend, huh?” 

A smile finally made its way back to his face. 

“Uh, yeah. If uh, if that’s something you want. I know it’s um, kinda fast, but I really like you Osita.” 

“I don’t know, I just really want to spend all my time hanging out with this super hot dude who’s sweet and funny and is the best sex I’ve ever had… but him being my boyfriend… I’m not sure…” you giggled and smirked at him. 

“Best sex you’ve ever had, huh?” He smirked back at you and raised his eyebrows. 

“Don’t let it go to your head too much.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged at him. “I really like you too, Javi. I would love to be your girlfriend.” 

Both your faces spread wide with childish grins as you reached over to grab Javi’s hand and intertwine it with yours. Girlfriend. It had a nice ring to it. 

Pulling into the small parking lot of Alejandro’s Deli and Sandwiches, you released your hand from his to cup his face, kissing him long and intensely. 

“You ready, boyfriend?” Putting an extra emphasis on the last word. 

“Yes, let’s go, you dork.” 

The shop was small and well loved, and was clearly a favorite in the area. Past the deli counter were a few small sets of tables and chairs, where people were scattered about enjoying their food. As you waited in line and stared at the menu board, Javi’s hand never left yours. 

“What are you thinking of getting?” Javi could clearly tell you were having a hard time deciding as the line continued to move forward. 

“You’re the sandwich expert here, what do you normally get?” 

“Either the club or the roast beef. Everyone says the BLT is good too.” 

“Winner, winner, BLT dinner. I was trying to decide between that one and the Italian, but a BLT sounds SO good right now.” 

“Do you want to go grab a table for us while I order? It gets busy here and there’s an open spot in the back corner.” 

“Sure!” You let go of his hand to begin rummaging through your purse. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Looking through my purse for the other BLT I had stored in here. I’m getting money so I can pay for my sandwich.” 

“You’re not paying for the sandwich.” 

“Let me pay for it!” 

“You’re not paying for it.” 

“Ugh, Javier Peña, don’t deny that you are just as stubborn as I am. Fine, thank you for the sandwich.” 

You sat your things down in the windowsill next to the corner in the back of the shop as you waited for Javi to join you. You looked around to see cute photos of what you assumed was Alejandro’s family, a man eating a sandwich as long as him, and 3 kids chasing a dog who had stolen their lunch. Javi returned quickly with your orders, plus a bag of chips and a chocolate chip cookie. “Chips and a cookie? A man after my own heart. Thank you again, this place is super cute!” 

“Yeah the guys at the station suggested my first day because my dumbass forgot my lunch.” 

You took a big bite of your sandwich as Javi spoke. “Well it’s a 10 out of 10 suggestion, this is the best sandwich I have had in so long.” You took a few more bites before working up the courage to bring up the reason you were eating sandwiches in the first place. “So… Lorraine.” 

Javi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a heavy sigh before he spoke. “Yeah… Lorraine.” 

You reached across the table to grab his hand. “Javi, like I said before, I’m not here to judge. I get that things happen. I promise, it’s not gonna make me think any less of you.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because I know you’re a good person.” 

Fuck. That one hit Javi in a way that he wasn’t sure how to feel. In his heart, he had convinced himself that he was the exact opposite. He wasn’t a good person. He didn’t deserve to have people think he was. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t someone that people should celebrate. A good person was the last thing he considered himself to be. But here you were. He has let you in to see the glimpses of his past and it only made you want him more. You wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted to be with him. Despite the things he had done, and the person he so desperately wanted to separate himself from. You cared about him. 

“You really want the whole story?” 

“I have a full belly, handsome man to stare at while I listen, and all the time in the world. Yes. Full story.” 

With a deep breath, Javi began to explain how he had met Lorraine in high school. On a dare from his friends, he asked Lorraine to prom after she had broken up with her all star quarterback boyfriend, and desperate not to go to her Senior year dance alone, she said yes. Things were never really great between them, Javi admitted they were young, stupid and horny, and when it was time for them to leave for different colleges, he had tried to put an end to things. That didn’t stop her from calling Javi every time she was at Texas A&M to visit friends to hook up with him and fuck with his head enough to make him reconsider things, until she left again, leaving him feeling dejected and empty. This went on until they both found themselves back in Laredo after graduating college, Javi working on his family ranch while applying for various law enforcement jobs and Lorraine working at her aunt’s flower shop. Now both back in the same place, Lorraine had approached Javi about wanting to try things again. He didn’t love the idea, but it didn’t stop them from hooking up in the back of his truck after he took her out for dinner a few days later. 

A few weeks went by and Javi didn’t hear much from Lorraine, until one day he got a frantic phone call telling him to meet her as soon as possible. Once they were together, Javi found Lorraine crying in the diner parking lot she chose to have him meet at, and their conversation went a little like this: 

“Lorraine, what’s wrong?” 

“I missed my period. It’s two weeks late.” 

“Fuck. How? We used a condom, right?” 

“Yes. I don’t know Javi, apparently it can still happen.” 

“Fuck me. Shit, um, okay. Okay, fuck. What do you want to do?” 

“I don’t want all of Laredo to know that you knocked me up on a one night stand. God dammit, Javi, I don’t know? It doesn't look as bad if we were engaged or married, or something!” 

“Married?! Lorraine…” 

“Do you have a better idea?” 

He didn’t. And in that moment, he panicked. How could he not? There was nothing less he wanted than to spend the rest of his life with Lorraine, let alone have a child with her. But he wasn’t going to leave this baby without a father and felt so awful about what he had done to Lorraine. He drove home that night, tears streaming down his face as he tried to come to grips with his fate. 

The next two months were a whirlwind, Lorraine trying to plan the wedding as fast as possible to avoid any suspicions of looking pregnant. Flowers, catering, decorations, terrible, uncomfortable suits, Javi hated every moment of it. He was miserable. His parents knew something wasn’t right, despite Javi’s efforts to convince them otherwise. They never cared much for Lorraine to begin with, and the unfortunate circumstances weren’t helping. 

A week before the wedding, Javi received a phone call, which to his relief, wasn’t Lorraine. It was a call from a secretary at the DEA office in Texas, asking if Javi wanted to come in and interview for a position. It was the first shred of hope he had felt in months, gladly offering to come in the next day. The interview went so well, the hiring agents offered him the position on the spot. There was only one catch. He was going to be stationed in Colombia, and he needed to leave by the end of the month. When he left, he thanked the team for their time, and told him that he would think about it. Everything in his body wanted to scream “I’ll leave right now, please, anything to get me out of the hell that I’m currently living in!” But he knew he needed to think about it first before he just up and left. 

His brain stewed over his possibilities for the next few days, leaving him more absent minded about his impending wedding, even though it was less than a week away. The night before his big day, he couldn’t have felt worse. Lorraine had called him to come over and finish up last minute plans before the day came, and begrudgingly, Javi was at her house, listening to her frantically list of things that needed to happen before tomorrow. Javi didn’t hear a single word that came out of her mouth, and excused himself to go to her bathroom to try and get a moment of peace. After washing his hands, he looked down at the trash can next to the vanity. The next thing he knew, he was carrying the waste basket to Lorraine, using every last ounce of self restraint he had not to completely lose it. 

“Lorraine.” 

“What?” 

“What the fuck is this?” He held up the waste basket, his hands shaking. 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Javi?” 

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about Lorraine. Why the fuck is your trashcan filled with tampon wrappers and a fucking negative pregnancy test?!” 

She sat in silence. 

“Lorraine, fucking answer me!” 

“My period started last week.” 

“And you weren’t going to tell me?!”

“Javi, the wedding is less than a week away!” 

“Lorraine, that was the whole fucking reason we were doing this in the first place! What did you expect, for me just to not notice when you didn’t have a kid 7 months from now?! Jesus Fucking Christ.” 

“What did you want me to do, Javi?! I can’t just call off the wedding, my parents paid a lot of money for this, there are people coming from all over! It would be embarrassing!” 

“I can’t fucking believe this. You were actually going to go through with this and didn’t even care if you told me that you weren’t really pregnant. Unbelievable.” Slamming the trashcan down on the ground, Javi stormed out the door. 

“Javi, wait!” 

“Fuck you, Lorraine.” 

There was no use trying to deny it anymore. When Javi came home, he broke down to his parents what had happened and how this whole mess had begun in the first place. She wasn’t pregnant, he didn’t want to marry her, he wanted to get as far away as possible from the wake of destruction he had left in his past. He practically begged his parents to drop him off at the airport, wanting to leave as soon as he could. As much as his parents hated to see him go, they couldn’t contribute to the pain and guilt their son already felt. That night was spent calling the DEA to accept the position, packing everything Javi could fit in a suitcase and hugging his mom and dad tightly as he said his goodbyes and got ready to board the next plane to Colombia. The next day, Lorraine was so busy preparing herself and getting ready for the wedding, making sure everyone knew the day revolved around her, that she had no idea Javi was already on a plane across the country. It wasn’t until all of the guests were seated and waiting in the pews of the church that they had figured out Javi was gone. 

Lorraine had obviously come to some peace about it, hearing through the phone calls with his parents that 8 months later she was engaged to some guy named Randy who had some big wig job in finance. He had been home not too long ago, HR mandating that he had to use some of his PTO days he refused to take, to attend a wedding of one of his dad’s cousins, where he saw Lorraine for the first time since he had left her at the alter. She had been nicer to Javi then, perhaps taking pity on the fact that he looked so sad and desperate as he tried to talk with her. There must have been something about seeing Javi happy with another woman that absolutely set her ablaze, leaving you in the wake of the mess that was Lorraine Doogan. 

Javi finished his story with a deep breath and another run of his hand across his face. 

“Javi, holy shit.” 

“You ready to take back that ‘you’re a good person’ comment yet?” 

One hand reached up to cup the side of his strong jaw, while the other grabbed his hand resting on the table that had been curled up in a fist the entirety of telling his story. “Javi, what are you talking about? Of course not. What Lorraine did you was so fucked up, trying to trap you into marrying her with an imaginary baby because she was too embarrassed to say otherwise? I’m so sorry that happened to you, Javi.” 

His only response was a half forced smile, his eyes still staring down at the table. 

“If it makes you feel any better, her kids are absolute assholes- I know it’s mean to say that about a kid, but it’s true. They go to my school and they’re in the office every day getting yelled at for doing something stupid. To be honest, I kind of think you dodged a bullet on that one.” His face perked up a little more, letting out a small huff of laughter. You pushed his chin up, forcing him to look at you. 

“Javier Peña, look at me.” You could almost see the guilt and sadness welling in his eyes. “I do not think you are a terrible person. I promise. Thank you for telling me about this, I’m glad you trust me enough to let me know.” You leaned across the small table between you to give him a kiss. 

“Thanks, Osita.” 

“There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m here to listen whenever you want to talk. Whaddya say we go get the rest of these groceries so we can head back?” 

You gathered the remains of your lunch to throw away, taking the unopened bag of chips to go as you buckled back in for your final destination. The grocery store was in the complete opposite direction of your current location, so you began shuffling through the CD compartment in his glove box to try and pick out some music to lighten the mood for your drive. 

“Fleetwood Mac, AC/DC, Stevie Wonder, Kenny Rogers… The Grease Soundtrack?! You are a man of many different tastes, Mr. Peña.” 

“Okay, the Grease one Steve gave to me as a joke one year for my birthday.” 

“And yet, here it is in your car. That means you had to take it all the way back from Colombia with you, unpack it, AND put it in here.” You waved the CD around in your hands, mockingly. 

“...Some of the songs are kind of catchy.” 

“I knew it!” You popped the CD out of its case and into the radio. “What song do you want?” 

“I don’t really know the names of any of them…” 

You crossed your arms and smirked at him, knowing sooner or later, he'd give you a response. 

“.... You’re The One That I Want.” Javi admittedly defeated. 

“Don’t know any of the names, my ass.” You laughed to yourself as you skipped several tracks ahead to Javi’s song selection. 

You turned the volume up as you let the music play through John Travolta’s verse, curious to see if you could catch Javi singing along. By the time you were at Olivia Newton-John’s part, you had bursted into full out song, Javi snickering to himself watching your theatrics. 

“You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man. And my heart is set on youuuuuuuuu!” You continued your performance through your laughing and dancing. It didn’t take long for you to spy out of the corner of your eye, Javi beginning to mouth the words to himself. You had already teased him enough about his enjoyment of the song that you weren’t about to say a single thing as he sang along. It warmed your heart to see Javi bring down his guard, letting you further and further into the world he lived in. Even if all it was, was singing together in his car. As the song ended, Javi turned down the music, his face suddenly becoming more serious. 

“If you ever meet Steve, you have to swear to me you’ll never tell him about this. He will never let me live it down.” 

“I’m not sure… I know very little about Steve, but the thought of how much shit he’d give you for your deep, dark, Grease secret does sound entertaining.” 

Javi’s mood now having done a complete 180 from your last drive to the sandwich shop, you both headed into the grocery store happy and ready for the last part of your errands. Grabbing a cart, you headed through the produce section, starting with fruits. 

“Okay, list says I need apples, bananas, blueberries and maybe strawberries if they’re good.” You both casually strolled, Javi reaching for the items from your list closest to you and putting them into your cart as you continued on your journey. You made your way through vegetables next, Javi very explicitly stating his distaste for the carrot sticks you had on your list. 

“They’re so crunchy and bland, and they just remind me of feeding the horses.” 

“You have horses at your ranch?” 

“Yup, a few of them. Some of our family keeps their horses there, but Pops and I take care of them all.” 

“That’s so cool! Do you have any other animals there?” 

“Cows and sheep mostly. Some random chickens that we can’t seem to get rid of.” 

“That’s amazing. The reason I chose Laredo to move to is because my best friend from elementary school moved down here when we were in high school, and I would visit her family every summer on their ranch. She always made fun of me for how it seemed like I was always more excited to see the animals than her.”  

“You can come over to the ranch and see the animals if you want.” 

“Really?!” 

“Any time, Osita.” 

You threw another bag of carrots into your cart. “If I want these horses to like me, I gotta bribe them with something!” Javi laughed, picking the bag up and putting it back with the other carrots. 

“Baby, we have plenty of carrots at the ranch. I’m not eating any extras you get.” 

You breezed through the rest of your trip, quickly filling up your cart as you and Javi talked more about his ranch, any other foods that fell into the same category as carrots (you were thankful that you both collectively agreed that olives belonged in the same realm), and made fun of you as you put the largest sized vanilla coffee creamer in with the rest of your items. Your checkout line experience was much more pleasant than the one you had experienced a few hours ago. Javi knew the older, frail man working the register, greeting him politely. 

“Hi Mr. Garcia, how are you?” 

“Javier Peña. Good to see you son. I heard from Chucho you ditched him at the ranch for a new job at the sheriff’s department.” 

“I don’t know if ditch is the right word, still try to help out while I can.” 

Polite smiles were exchanged as you continued to load items from your cart onto the conveyor belt. 

“I don’t think I’ve met your wife before.” Mr. Garcia now looking at you. Javi just about dropped the carton of eggs he was carrying before responding. Part of him almost didn’t even want to correct it. 

“Uh, no, um, girlfriend.” 

“Well, she’s a cutie.” Mr. Garcia winked at you before you raised your eyebrows to smirk at a now very flustered and embarrassed Javi. 

“I don’t know, Jav. Looks like you’ve got some competition. Mr. Garcia seems like a real catch.” You playfully winked back at him, causing the old man to rumble with laughter. 

“And funny too.” 

You loaded the bags back into your cart and paid for your groceries. As you were sorting, you overhead the two men talking. 

“She’s a keeper, Javier.” 

“Yeah, she is.” 

Now a little louder, Mr. Garcia helped you load the last bag into your cart before saying goodbye. “Nice to see you Javi. Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” 

“Thanks Mr. Garcia, have a nice day!” 

You began loading your items into Javi’s trunk, watching as his biceps flexed deliciously as he lifted the bags up to put them away. You really had to convince yourself to focus on putting the rest of your groceries away. 

Your errands done for the day, you and Javi began the drive back to your apartment. It hadn’t hit you until you looked at the clock radio in his car that it was already 5 o’clock, and that your time with Javi was starting to dwindle, considering the fact that both of you had to work the next day. You glanced at him as he was driving, aviators propped on his face, the tanned skin of his chest exposed from the buttons he seemed to hate having done up, his arms grasping the steering wheel. The image of him made your heart race. Wanting to make sure you capitalized on your time, and realizing now you had zero self control, you were tempted to ask him to pull over his truck right then and there. No, you can make it until you get home, you horny idiot. You thought to yourself, knowing how pissed you would be if you ruined your groceries all because you couldn’t control yourself for a few more minutes. Subconsciously, you licked around your bottom lip, staring at the gorgeous man next to you. 

“Hermosa?” 

“Huh, what? Did you say something?” You shook your head to bring yourself back to reality. 

“I asked if we needed to stop anywhere before we went back to your apartment.” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I don’t need anything else, sorry.” 

“Something on your mind?” Javi prodded, noticing that you hadn’t fully been paying attention. 

“No, nothing, I’m good.” He spotted the lie instantly. Grasping around the exposed meat of your thigh he gave it a squeeze before sliding his hand further up your leg. 

“Sure you don’t have anything on your mind?” His hand now at your hip, fingers dancing along the hem of your shorts, grazing your skin. He knew exactly what he was doing. Your breathing sped up as you let a gulp fall down your throat. At this point, you were only 5 minutes away from your apartment, but you were absolutely positive you were not going to make it that long. Fuck it, your groceries would be fine, right? 

“Pull over.” 

Thankful for the long stretches of dirt roads and pockets of abandoned buildings on your way back to your apartment, Javi quickly pulled off to an empty parking lot of a closed down store. You were practically jumping into his lap by the time he had put the car in park. Mouths and tongues clashed as you pulled yourselves into one another. Your kissing reflected the sexual tension that had quickly built up in the truck only minutes ago as you frantically moved about. Feeling how worked up you were already, you sought to seek some form of relief by grinding down on the seam of Javi’s jeans, relieving some of the ache between your legs. Javi grabbed your hips, his fingers digging into the outside of your shorts as he pushed you down into him. He reciprocated the motion, pushing himself up into you, no better than two horny teenagers dry humping in the secret of their parent’s basement. Javi kissed your neck before the tickle of his mustache crept near your ear. 

“So needy, baby. Couldn’t wait ‘till we got back, huh?” 

In between your mouths meeting you were able to break away for a few moments to respond. 

“Well if my boyfriend wasn’t so fucking hot it would have made it a lot easier. I want you so bad Javi.” 

Just like that, Javi had you stripped down to your bra, practically ripping your tank top off you. You helped him shuffle down your shorts and thong, taking a moment to smack it against your ass before it looked around your ankles. His hand reached down to palm around your pussy, already wet from the short time you had spent grinding into his lap. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your folds, collecting your slick before dipping inside of you. 

“Fuck Hermosa, always so wet for me. Want me to cum inside you like I did this morning? Fill you up? 

Before you could answer, his thumb began a frantic pace against your clit to match the pace his fingers pumped in and out of you. He pulled his face closer into your breasts, kissing around them and sucking on your pebbled nipples. Your hips grinded down on his hand, pushing his fingers deeper in you. You tilted your head back and moaned in pleasure. His fingers continued in and out, hitting the spongy spot deep inside you that made you feel like you were about to come undone. That, matched with his calloused thumb rubbing against your bundle of nerves had you on the edge of collapse.

 “Javi, fuck, fuck I’m almost there, I’m gonna-“ 

You felt the coil in your belly snap suddenly, as pleasure ran though you with a sheer intensity. Your hips came to a stop as you slumped into his body, breathing heavily. Your head rested in the crook of his neck as he whispered to you. 

“Such a good fucking girl. Always taking me so well.” 

As he watched you come down from your high, he gently pushed you further down his lap to undo his belt buckle and slide down his pants and boxers just low enough to let his already hard cock spring to its release. You scooted yourself further up again, licking your palm to wrap around Javi’s girth, stroking him a few times before raising your hips up to slowly sink down on his length. You gasped at the sweet sting of his size inside you, taking your time to adjust, lowering down on to him inch by inch. You both moaned as you bottomed out on him and you began to move yourself up and down, feeling him repeatedly filling you and hitting that incredible spot inside you. Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest as you sped up the intensity of your movements. Your clit rubbed against the jeans scrunched around his thighs as he began to lift his hips up into you. 

“You feel so good, baby. Feels so good so deep in me, fuck.” 

Javi watched you, awe struck as you continued to ride him, your boobs bouncing with each thrust, and head thrown back in pleasure as you bit down on your bottom lip. 

“Jesus, you’re perfect, Hermosa. So tight and wet, so fucking sexy. 

There was something about the low rasp of his voice singing your praises that absolutely made you lose your mind. The pace you now found both yourselves moving at was becoming fast and sloppy, so enthralled by each other, you could have cared less about the steering wheel digging into your back. You were filled by his deep, hard strokes, his dick repeatedly filling you and hitting you in a way that made your muscles begin to tense. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he reached beneath you to rub your clit. The tension spread through your body, your orgasm making you scream in delight. The pulsing of your pussy squeezed around Javi’s cock, practically sending him over the edge with you. 

“Javi, holy fuck. I want you to come, baby. I want you to come inside me. It’s all yours.

Yours. You were all his. Your words sent him over the edge, knowing that he was the only one you wanted to be with. The only one to please you. The only one to make his mark inside of you. Only a few strokes more and Javi hit his high, letting out a low whimper as he felt himself release inside your warm, tight walls. His dick pulsed as his seed spilled into, leaving you two slumped into each other, breathless. A few moments after you both came to, you finally felt the wet spot you had left over Javi’s jeans, a mix of the two of you staining the denim. 

“Fuck, Javi, I’m sorry, I fucking ruined your jeans.” 

“They’re just jeans, Osita. Besides, it was fucking hot.” 

You could see the dark pools of his eyes growing darker with lust as he reached down to the inside of your thigh, dripping with the combination of your release. 

“Will you keep me inside you, baby? Keep you inside me so you know that you’re mine even when I have to leave?” 

“Fuck, yes.” 

Fuck. His request filled you with joy and hurt at the same time. You were his. Fucking his. At the same time, the thought of having come back to reality after the fantasy you had been living in the past 24 hours stung. 

“I don’t want you to have to leave.” Shit, was that too needy? He had just spent the whole day with you. The little voice in the back of your head screamed at you again. Don’t get too ahead of yourself. 

“I don’t want to have to leave either, Osita. I’m not going yet, I’ll hang out as long as I can. Would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to go to work tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” Phew. “I don’t mean to ruin this super sweet and sexy moment, but do you think you can take your dick out of me so my groceries don’t go bad?” 

You both laughed, Javi complying to your request as you shuffled off of his lap into the passenger seat, shimmying your clothes back on. He scooted his jeans back over him, tucking himself back in before doing up his belt buckle. 

The trip back to your apartment was  embarrassingly short, given that you couldn’t have made it approximately 4 more minutes before arriving back. Javi helped you gather your things, making fun of the thought of you trying to carry all your grocery bags up in one trip, you convincing him that you really could do it, if it was a smaller trip. Javi was very impressed with your organization as you put everything away in its exact spot, making unloading the groceries much quicker than expected. After you had finished, you looked back at Javi leaning against the counter. 

“Javi, that stain on your jeans looks like you peed yourself, I feel really bad. Do you want me to wash them for you? I don't want you to have to carry evidence from the scene of the crime back home with you. I have laundry I have to do anyway, it’s no big deal at all.” 

“That would probably be a good idea. Are you trying to get me to stay longer by holding my pants hostage in the wash?” You outstretched your hand. 

“Guilty, your honor. Pants me, Peña.” 

Another reason you had chosen your apartment was the in unit washer and dryer. The pain of having to haul your laundry from your 11th floor Chicago apartment down to a basement that looked like it was straight out of a horror movie was one of your least favorite chores, so having the ability to clean your clothes from the comfort of your room was a plus. 

Javi undid his belt and slid both his pants and underwear down to the floor, leaving his bottom half very blatantly naked. 

“Oh shit, I forgot you didn’t have any other pants.” 

“Also part of your plan?” 

“Surprisingly, no. Oh, I actually think I have a pair of my brother’s shorts that accidentally got packed away with my stuff when I moved!” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Don’t mind oing full Winnie the Pooh until your pants are clean? Javi, believe me, I am not mad about this.” you gestured to his crotch. “The problem is, if your dick keeps staring at me like that, I will literally get nothing done the rest of the day, and I have to at least try a LITTLE bit to be productive.” 

“Fair enough.” He waited as you shuffled through your drawers to find an old pair of gray cotton shorts, bringing them out and tossing them to him as you grabbed your hamper, made your way to the laundry room, and filled up your washer with your dirty clothes and Javi’s pants. After you had started up the wash cycle, you made your way back to the kitchen, where Javi was still standing, now covered by the shorts you had given him. 

“God dammit, Javi.” 

“What?” His face surprised as you came back into the kitchen. 

“I think the shorts are making it worse.” 

“What worse?” 

“You might as well be naked, cause I can see… Well let’s just say that there’s very little left to the imagination and I will be using every ounce of willpower to keep myself from crawling all over you. Do you realize how hot you are? It’s truly not fair. Okay, let me just stare at you for one more second and then I can move on.” You crossed your arms as you looked Javi up and down while he chuckled to himself. 

“You good?” He laughed. 

“Good now.” You giggled, taking one more long look. 

“What else do you want to get done tonight?” 

“Well normally on Sunday I do laundry and just get ready for the week, make food, stuff like that. It makes it so much better, one, having you here, even though you’re making the getting things done part more challenging, and two because it’s finally the last week of school and the last time I have to do this again until August.” 

“When’s your last day of school?” 

“Thursday. Only 4 more days, even though it feels like it's going to be 154.” 

“Are you doing anything on Thursday?” 

“Besides collapsing into a pile from the relief that the school year is done, no. Why?” 

“Can I take you out to celebrate your last day of school?” 

You blushed. It shocked you how genuinely thoughtful Javi was. Or maybe, you had grown to accept your significant others not having any interest in you at all. There was one summer where it was the middle of July and Paul had asked you why you hadn’t been going into work, like he had literally forgotten what you did for a living, let alone take you out to celebrate it. 

“Are you asking me on a date, Javi?” You teased, playfully. 

He blushed too. “Yeah, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course it is. That’s really sweet of you. What do you have in mind?” 

“I was thinking about dinner and a movie? Since you seem to enjoy giving me such a hard time about the lack of movies I’m caught up on.” 

“I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.” You leaned into him wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I really want to see you before, but the end of the school year is absolutely insane, and there’s school events every night this week.” 

“It’s okay, I remember how stressed my mom would be at the end of the year. The last week of school, my mom would tell me and my dad “Por favor. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Please don’t talk to me until the children are free.” 

“Your mom hit the nail on the head with that one. Well I’m really excited for Thursday, thanks Javi.”

“Me too, Osita.” 

You stared at each other for a moment in silence, taking the other in. Javi’s hand released itself from your waist to brush away hair from your face before cupping the side of your jaw to kiss you. Your heart sped up anytime Javi’s lips met yours, but there was something about this kiss that felt different. It was sweet. Tender. Gentle. The kind of kiss that screamed I’m so lucky you’re mine without saying a word. A kiss you hoped you’d never had to live without. 

“I like you a lot, Javi.” 

“I like you a lot too, Osita.” 

“Sooooo, I have at least another hour and a half of keeping your pants hostage, and we clearly need to get you up to speed on your movie knowledge before Thursday, do you want to pick something out to watch?” 

“Didn’t you say you had things you wanted to get done?” He raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Yeah, well, those can be tomorrow's problems. Go pick out a movie you haven’t seen yet and now that I have real food, I’ll go get some snacks for us while we watch!” 

“Sounds like a great plan.” He kissed the top of your head as you parted ways. You went to the kitchen to microwave a bag of popcorn while Javi spent a long time very intently staring at the VHS collection below your TV. You returned with a big bowl filled to the brim, curious to see what Javi’s pick would end up being. “Alright, I’m excited to see what we get to watch tonight!” You set the bowls down on the table at the end of your couch, unfolding one of the fluffy blankets you had draped over the end. 

“I have a feeling you’re gonna be happy we’re watching it, but not happy about the fact I picked it.” He took the VHS from behind his back and placed it on your lap. 

“NO. JAVI. YOU’VE NEVER SEEN STAR WARS?!” 

“No…” 

“SERIOUSLY?” 

“Technically I did see it once when I was in high school but I don’t remember anything about it because I took a girl on a date to go see it and we just sat in the back of the theater and made out the whole time.” 

“Romantic. Hate to break it to you, that will not be happening tonight if we’re watching this.” You patted the seat next to you on the couch, ushering him to go sit down as you pushed in the tape and pressed play. “I know I said Indiana Jones was my favorite movie but I actually think I lied. It’s 100% Star Wars.” 

Without hesitation, you curled up next to Javi resting your head into his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you in closer as the theme music for the opening credits began blaring through your speakers. As the movie started, you could tell Javi was trying his hardest to watch intently, asking the occasional question to make sure he understood what was happening. 

“Why do the tiny people in the robes have no faces and yellow eyes? Are they supposed to be bad guys? They’re not very scary.” 

“They’re Jawwas, Javi. They’re little sand creatures that collect scrap parts and sell them. They’re not really good or bad, they just kind of hang out on Tatooine.” 

“Jesus, you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.” 

“Just shhhh and watch the movie.” You lovingly gave Javi a shove as he snickered. 

As the movie continued, the two of you found yourselves sinking further and further into the couch, Javi now laying flat on his back, head propped against the pillows, and you on top of him, head propped on his chest. One of his arms rested on top of your back, tracing back and forth along your shoulders, the other demolishing handfuls of popcorn from the bowl he had found next to him. Javi definitely didn’t strike you as someone who would be much of a cuddler, but in the short time you had spent with him, you quickly realized this man wanted to be touching you in some way, shape or form at all times. He may have looked tough, but this man was a big ole softie. Right around the point where Luke, Han and Chewie were making their way to break Princess Leia out of her cell, you pushed yourself up off of Javi with a quick kiss. 

“Hey wait, where are you going? It’s getting really good!” He grabbed your hand, almost pleading with his puppy dog eyes for you to stay on the couch with him. 

“I just have to go change the laundry to the dryer really quick, unless you wanna go home in wet denim. Also apparently get more popcorn “Mr. No I’m not that hungry, I don’t want any”. I’ll be right back, promise.” 

You gave him a quick kiss as you got up, threw another bag of popcorn in the microwave and moved your clothes to the dryer. Shaking the hot popcorn bag and refilling your bowl, you climbed back on top of Javi, nestling yourself comfortably against his broad frame. You were relieved that Javi was genuinely into the movie, making comments and remarks after big action scenes, popcorn making a constant path from the bowl to his mouth. He was like a 12 year old boy trapped in a grown man’s body. It made you wonder how many other people had gotten to see this side of Javi before. It was no secret to you that whatever past he carried weighed on him heavily. His mom, Lorraine, Colombia. Even though you didn’t know the whole story, it made you hopeful to think you could be part of a new chapter that brought him a little more joy than he had before. 

As the ending scene credits rolled, you leaned your head up to him. “Soooooo… what’d ya think? Better than a high school make out session in a dark movie theater?” 

“There’s other ones right? Can we watch more of them? Osita, I can see why you like this so much. There’s some stuff in it that’s fuckin’ weird, but I guess it’s space, but it was really good.” 

“Absolutely we can. I do hope you know, the more we watch, the nerdier I will get.” 

As the VHS ended and a silence filled the room, you realized the dryer was finished and had stopped running, and the monotonous tick of the clock behind your TV read 9:17 PM. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask Javi to leave. How could you? But your lack of accomplished to-do’s and the looming screams of 8 and 9 year olds at 7:30 tomorrow morning already had you feeling the impending headache already building behind your eyes. The huff of disappointment you let out of you was much louder than you had hoped, and Javi knew exactly why. 

“I don’t want to go either, Osita. But tomorrow is gonna kick both of our asses if I don’t leave.” 

“Yeah, I know…” your lip let out a pout. 

“Thursday will come fast, I promise. Even if I can’t see you, I’ll call you and we can at least talk on the phone if you’re up for it.” 

“Fine. I will release you and your jeans from my custody. Let me go grab them for you.” 

Hopping off the couch, you threw your clean clothes back into your hamper to be sorted later, pulling out Javi’s jeans and boxers to give back to him. 

Bringing the pair back to the couch, you found Javi leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for you to return. 

“Just so you know, in this apartment, there is a 3 kiss minimum to obtain any clothing items belonging to your bottom half.” You pressed into him, dangling the pants and underwear in your outstretched arm. 

“What happens if I give you more than 3?” 

“You can use them as a down payment towards your next set of pants you need to get back from me.” 

“God, you’re such a dork.” 

“Kiss me or lose the pants, Peña. Choice is yours.” 

You shrieked and dropped the jeans as Javi suddenly wrapped his arms underneath you and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“One…” He leaned in to peck your lips in between your giggles. 

“Two…” Another kiss landed on your mouth, a little longer than the last. 

“Three.” A final slow and sweet set of lips grazed across yours, his mustache tickling you as he pulled away and set you gently back on your feet. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Javi laughed as he reached down for his clothes, shuffling the gray shorts down his legs, and exchanging them for his boxers and jeans. “Could be worse.” As he finished running his belt through the jean’s loopholes, you went to your fridge to rip a fresh piece of paper from your grocery list, and began scribbling. 

“For you.” You reached out your arm, handing Javi a note with your phone number and a smiley face and a cute doodle of a bear. 

“Thanks, Osita.” You found yourself both begrudgingly making your way to the front door, as Javi slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys, finally admitting defeat that the weekend had to come to an end. 

“Will you call me when you get home so I know you made it back safe?” 

“Of course.” He reached down to cup your face, your lips meeting one last time, savoring every sweet second before he pulled away to run a hand through your hair and kiss the top of your head. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He reached down for the doorknob, slowly twisting it and opening the door, revealing the empty hallway he was about to walk down. “I’ll see you soon, Osita.” 

“Not soon enough. See you on Thursday, Javi.” 

He gave your outstretched hand one more squeeze before finally letting go, the door quietly clicking as it shut behind him. 

In that moment, there was one thing you knew for certain. You had it bad for Javier Peña.

Finally coming down from your lovestruck high, you looked around your apartment to realize you had done very few things on your list to get ready for tomorrow. Mentally prioritizing, you cleaned up your living room, laid out your clothes, and changed your sheets, making a note that if you were going to keep seeing Javi like this, there needed to be more in the rotation. Once you finished, you brought your laundry out to the living room, turning on the TV and folding, waiting for Javi to call. 

Little did you know, Javi spent the entire rest of his ride home imagining you by his side, as listened to the rest of the Grease soundtrack. 

As he pulled into the ranch and made his way into the house, he had never been more relieved to find his dad passed out in his armchair with the TV blasting, thankful to avoid questionings about his whereabouts- at least for now. 

Quietly making his way to his room and closing the door, he took the cell phone out of his back pocket, along with your note, and pressed his fingers into each number. 

You barely let one ring go by before dropping the laundry that was in your hands and springing towards the phone. 

“Hi, Javi.” 

“How’d you know it was me?” 

“Not many people are calling me at 9:45 at night just to chat. You make it home okay?” 

“Yeah, I did. I’ll let you get to bed, but I just wanted to let you know I had a lot of fun this weekend. I’m uh, I’m really glad that you like spending time with me.” 

“I am too, Javi. I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time.”

“I’ll call you later this week and we can talk details for Thursday?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me.” 

“Okay. Duerme bien y dolces sueños, Osita.” 

Something about his voice in Spanish practically melted your heart. “Something about good and sweet?” You tried to translate. 

“Sleep well and sweet dreams.” 

“Well in that case, duerme bien y dolces sueños a ti tambien, Javi.” 

“Bye, Osita.” 

“Bye.” 

After hearing the click on the end of your line, you hung your phone back on the receiver, putting your hands in your face and letting out a little scream to yourself.  Yeah, you had it REAL bad for Javier Peña.

[stardustedknuckles]

There was a woman sat on the curb with a typewriter when I left taco bell, with a sign taped to her folding table advertising personal poems written for you on the spot. And you know... Sometimes you have to let people surprise you. I stopped, in my Dyke shirt with my caduceus clay book in one hand, and I told her I've never seen a poem about asexuality that wasn't sad.

We chatted for a good fifteen minutes, in which she - self describing as hypersexual - asked me more about my experience. She had friends who were on the ace spectrum, which was a relief on my part to not start from zero, and I just told her what I could. About growing up with friends who would stop talking to me once they got partners and tell me I would understand one day, about how it feels a little like being in a musical but never having heard the words everyone else knows or learned the steps to the dance they're all doing in unison. We laughed together at the way I'm mystified by story plots that revolve around bad decisions made due to being just that horny, a situation she was intimately familiar with and having a 43-year life full of those stories.

At the end she asked if I happened to have a title in mind and at first there was nothing. I hate titles. I tend to default to song lyrics for ao3. But as soon as she asked, I remembered standing in the cafeteria in eighth grade and being annoyed that all the Greek gods of love were of that kind of love. I remember wondering if there was a god/dess of friendship, and I remember the closest I found was Philotes: goddess of friendship, affection, and sex. In eighth grade I took the last one with a kind of "that's close enough I guess" attitude, but at 30 I think it's perfect actually. Lack of attraction has nothing to do with what feels good. There's nothing out of place about it to me these days.

I hadn't thought about that in years, no idea why it came to mind except I was also thinking of eighth grade me when I talked about my friends fucking off one by one to be with their partners. She wrote down the spelling, thanked me warmly for the talk, and returned to her typewriter.

I spent the next half an hour with a delightful Dyke who gave me a business card, on which her title was printed - no joke - "Lesbian Mayor of (neighborhood)." She was my parents' age and when she remarked with the utmost sincerity and approval that "you're kind of a weird big bang theory" I choked down the feeling of being directly assaulted and said hey, my dad watches that.

At some point Lisa finished her work on her typewriter. When I arrived it was fully light out, but by then it was getting dark. She stood in front of the bench where I was, fumbled on the phone light, and read to me what she had typed. And damn if the first two sentences didn't take me right the fuck out immediately. "I thought in middle school that if I was ever going to write a poem it would be an ode to Philotes," I had told her, a memory that comes with the affectionate sort of cringe reserved for your twelve year old self, earnest as they still were. And the same feeling came over me as she read the poem out to me - but it wasn't cringe I felt. It was the feeling that I had started something in 2005 that was only taking real shape nearly 20 years later.

I don't know if it's a "good" poem. That was never my strength. But it was written for me and for me, and the opening line "build me an effigy that transcends flesh" knocked the breath out of me immediately. I have the paper here beside me on the couch, and it feels like the kind of thing that goes in a treasure box, or maybe a frame.

I also had to remind her to give me her zelle so I could pay her - clearly also affected, she had turned to start on the next poem (a raunchy sex limerick as requested by a guy in a backward ball cap and boat shoes) and had forgotten entirely.

It's gonna overdraw my account when an auto payment hits next Wednesday, but honestly... Worth it. I just wish the fee would've gone to her instead of the bank.

Let people surprise you.