#i think it's gonna be v rare of me to write for other characters but i just wanted to have some freedom in writing for characters i like

[deus-lapidis]

(Woooooh, I finally found it ! I hope you won’t mind me doing a copy/paste…)

Helloooo, I’m coming rather quickly, but I immediately fall asleep after sending you my reply, thank you so much for being a kind person and letting me wake up to such kind words q-q)💕💕 (I can’t believe you’re being in a tight situation, hope it gets resolved fast!;;) As you long as you’re able to, would you mind if I ask for a zhongli and/or Al-haitham with a f! Reader who’s sick despite being very healthy most of the time ? F! Reader is a kind and shy person so she’d easily feel useless if something bad ever happens due to her weak condition… please do take your time for writing it ! I don’t mind the wait at all, please do it whenever you’ll feel like it and I hope that it won’t bother you to do so ;;v;;)

Taking care of a bacterial bag (affectionate) / You’re sick

Characters: Zhongli, Al Haitham x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

A/N: I don’t think I’ve used any specific femme representing words, so technically gn!reader works as well! I also haven’t had a lot of interaction with Al Haitham yet, so I excuse me if my characterisation isn’t on point yet.

ALSO SORRY THIS IS COMING OUT SO LATE I think I actually did finish Zhongli’s part the day you sent the ask, but wasn’t able to wrap it up until recently

Zhongli

Oh goodness you’re sick. Somebody calm this old heart of his.

Of course he’s gonna worry quite a bit, because you’re his beloved treasure and he can’t have his beloved treasure fall ill now, can he >:((

He’s been having sneaking suspicions about your symptoms already though, since it’s quite rare for him to see you catch a cold and it’s clear you’ve been having symptoms lately.

Worry not, your malewife Zhongli comes to the rescue! He’s ready to tend to you, taking care of everything around the house and catering to any wishes you might or might not voice out.

Constantly in the kitchen to make some nice soup and steep the best tea to open your sinuses (he’s wearing an apron while cooking. Yeah. Let that sink in.)

Will not let you help him in any way even if you insist that you’re okay and would feel guilty and helpless if he’d have to do everything. Lie back down, he has a wooden spoon and he is ready to make you soup. He is not afraid.

Will press a small kiss to your forehead when you scrunch up your face in dismay, amusement swirling in his eyes at your pouting.

He does that asian parent thing where he presses his forehead to yours to check if you have a fever.

Will make you take traditional Chinese medicine and if you complain about the bitter taste, he’ll chuckle and reward you with nice sweet snow fungus soup.

Also his immune system is stone cold and unfazed all the time, so if you really really really want to cuddle, he will hold you as much as you’d like. He’s incredibly warm and his back rubs easily soothe you into a deep sleep.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is a very technical and rational person, direct and seemingly uninterested in other people, but all of that coldness and rationality fly out the window as soon as there’s anything happening concerning you.

He’s gooey and soft for your weakened state, he does NOT enjoy seeing you suffer.

He tries to scramble together all the things that could relief your symptoms and literally puts everything on a silber plate(tray).

On the tray you may find some light crackers(upon your request), some tea, tissues and cough drops from a local shop.

It’s kinda fun to see him pop in to check on you, an apron draped over his body halfheartedly as he greets you with some orange juice.

He will reluctantly cuddle with you if you ask him nicely, but mentally he’s damning your cute face for tempting him into snuggling a bacterial bag.

#alhaitham fluff #zhongli fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #zhongli x reader #illunis’ scribbles

[animelovelover123]

DMC Boys x Reader – I Want to Feel Fear

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, V, Sparda x Reader (Reader is gender neutral except in Sparda’s story where Reader is female)

Synopsis/Author's Note: The DMC boys are asked to do some CNC. And not the light dubious consent stuff. No, the reader wants it hard. To feel fear, to cry and scream, to fight like their life depends on it but still be held down and used.

Well damn. What are the boys going to do with you?

Disclaimer: All acts in this story are done by consenting participants acting out a fantasy with no true threat to either's well-being. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault.

Trigger Warnings: CNC, stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, drugging, knife play, somno, predator/pray play, blood play, implied pregnancy sex, threatening of humiliation, implied semi-public masturbation, sadism, degrading comments, overstimulation, not beta read

Dante

Oh my… who knew his little angel was so devilish?

Sure, why not? Dante has entertained plenty of people with some freaky kinks, so he knows there isn’t anything wrong with two adults consensually doing some nasty stuff. He’s down to try if it will make you happy. Now, how to go about it…

You’re a demon hunter and his longtime partner so he knew you could handle being roughed up a bit. But what exactly are you looking for babe?

A sudden strike by a stranger (played by Dante)?

Some predator and prey hunting?

Some public humiliation?

Well… maybe not that last one because Dante causes that all the time with his antics anyway.

What would he like? Dante had to sit and think about that one. This is a whole new world he has never really explored before.

But you know, there was this one fantasy he had. And if he just cranked up the aggression then… Ya, that could work.

With a final shot, the last demon’s screech was silenced. As Dante set Rebellion on his back, keeping Ebony in his left hand, he looked over at you. You looked so sweet and vulnerable as your trembling subsided and your puffy red eyes with pupils blown wide relaxed a bit as the last of your attackers, as far as the character you were playing knew, evaporated. It was a weak and timid version of you he rarely got to see.

“Thank you so much for saving me, sir.” You say as you stepped down from the create you had climbed on to get out of reach of the calf-tall demons that had attacked you.

“Well, I couldn’t just sit back and let the world lose out on such a pretty little thing now could I?” As Dante draws closer to you, he watches you put on a shy little smile at his compliment. How cute. Too bad he won’t be seeing it for a while. “Unfortunately though I don’t run a charity so I’m gonna need to be paid for my hard work.”

“Pay?” Your relaxed posture tensed back up quickly.

“Yep, got bills to pay you know. Now let’s see…” With his free hand, Dante stroked his chin in exaggerated thought. In his other, he twirled Ebony around purposely within your field of view. “with it being an out-of-the-blue job that took time out of my busy day… I’d say 30 sounds about fair.” Dante announced in a particular way just so he could see your eyes light up with hope so he could dash it.

“30 bucks?”

Dante chuckled.

“No sweetheart, 30 thousand.”

“30 thousand dollars!? I’m sorry but don’t have that kind of money.” You keep talking, pleading your case, but Dante made a loud humming noise that told you he was too busy thinking to listen.

“You know,” He eventually says, cutting you off. “I think I can make an exception for someone as cute as you.” He gives a playful wink as he stops playing with Ebony to press its muzzle into the crown of your hair. With just enough force for you to take the hint, Dante presses down on you until you sink to your knees. “I know just how you can pay me.”

===+===+===

After swallowing, as ordered, you are finally able to wrench your head back, freeing yourself from the repeated gaging to drag in fresh air. You start to catch your breath, though each gasp makes your sore throat burn. You glance up at Dante who has since moved his gun from your head and now slouched over you, hands on the create behind you, with closed eyes and heavy breaths as his high washes off. Seeing this as your chance you turn and start to crawl away. You make it a couple of feet before you’re grabbed by your hair, not pulled back but held in place.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Dante practically growls. “You aren’t done paying your bill.”

“But,” You stay in place, too scared to move. “I just…”

“Auwh, did I forget to tell you?” Dante moved to squat down beside you so he could look at your fearful expression. “I charge by the corps. Now remind me again, how many demons were there?”

“S-six.”

Dante gave a wolfish grin.

===+===+===

“Where are you taking me?” You whine, far too tired to cry out at this point. You are moved from where Dante had thrown you over his should and dropped onto the back seats of Dante’s open-roofed car, your head behind the driver’s seat.

“I’m taking you back to my place.” Dante circles the car but instead of sliding into the front seat, he places one hand on the back door and the other on the driver seat headrest. Using them as leverage he leans over you, blocking out the sun and casting a shadow over your delightfully confused and concerned face.

“Your place? But I paid off my debt, didn’t I?”

“Yep, that you did. Even gave a little extra tip.” Dante shot you a toothy grin. “But you know what? I might just be addicted to that perfect little body of yours. So, I think I’m gonna keep you. It’ll be nice coming home every day to such a sexy cockwarmer.”

Reboot Dante

Really? You’re into that?

Surprisingly Dante actually rejects your request at first.

The idea of forcefully taking you at some club or in an alley just brings up memories of the times Dante has beaten some prick half to death for trying the same thing.

It will take a little convincing, along with some extra good treatment to rack up some IOU’s, but you can get him on board.

He’s still a bit hesitant so you need to start him with something he is a bit more comfortable with, something he is used to.

Dante and you are well accustomed to fooling around in places you probably shouldn’t. It helped that Dante had spent most of his life being sporadically homeless so he knew all sorts of nooks and crannies where a person or two could hide away from prying eyes.

So, take those moments, add a sprinkle of anonymity and a heaping cup of force, and now we’re talking.

You stand holding open one of the back doors of your friend’s car, allowing others to pile in so you can snag the window seat. Just as the last person slides into place, you hear the cocking of a gun.

“Don’t move,” Came a gruff male voice, sounding both loud enough to be heard but also distant. You knew it well, but still tensed up on instinct. “act calm.”

“You comin’?” Asks one of your friends in a joking tone, looking up at you with a blissfully unaware smile.

“Tell em your walking home.” Came the voice again, plenty loud enough to be heard by your friends, but it was only you with the power to hear him. You give your friends the lie you had been fed. They questioned you a bit but eventually drove off, none the wiser. “Go back into the fair.” The gun behind you makes a noise, possibly pointing in the direction the man wanted you to go.

No matter what it was, it served to snap you out of your panicked obedience as the reality of the situation came back to you. You stay stalk still, brain hastily fliting through thoughts but unable to settle on one.

“Hey, get going.” The man pushes, impatience evident in his voice and in another fidget of the gun. Without thinking you defiantly shake your head. Before taking your next breath the gun fires. The firing has a similar distant sounding quality to it as the man’s voice, but the explosion of the streetlight above you is too close.

“I told you to move.” Snaped the man. This time you follow orders.

You moved stiffly but with purpose, following instructions to a tee as the man tells you when and where to turn. You don’t speak, don’t turn around, don’t try to run for fear of ending up like that streetlight.

“Get on the freewheel, alone.” The last word came out with a bit of venom. The line was short as it was near closing time, so it didn’t take long for it to be your turn. The enclosed cabin shifts a bit under your weight as you step on, and as the door is closing it shifts again. You and the man ride a quarter of the rotation, the cabin halfway up where no one on the ground could see you, before he gives his next command.

“Lift up your top and drop your pants.” Even though you could have seen this coming, the suddenness made your brain stutter. Another loud clack of the gun got your hands moving again. Despite the intense trembling of your hands, you are able to undo and push down your pants, letting them fall to the cabin floor. “Underwear too.” This time you do struggle a bit, though out of nervousness as you look outside of the cabin to see all the people milling about down below. When the smaller cloth joins your pants you only barely catch a guttural groan from behind you. “Sit and spread your legs.” This order actually gets you something, aside from embarrassment. It gives you the first chance to look at your assailant, or it would have if he was truly there.

You had only recently started your medium training with Kat so you couldn’t make out any features of the man in Limbo. All you see is a white fog-like mass in the shape of a man looking down at you while pointing a gun-shaped object at your chest. A gun that could very much kill you through the division of realities.

“Don’t forget your top.” He said, motioning with his gun at the hem. As you pull your shirt up to reveal your chest, but not off, the figure sits on the bench across from you. The gun doesn’t drift from its target in the slightest. “Now touch yourself.”

“What!?”

“You heard me.” There was no compassion in the man’s voice. If anything, there was humor, as if he was amused by your shame. “Get yourself off. Right here, right now.”

“But…” Your voice trails off as you look out of the cabin window. “the ride will end soon.” The freewheel had made half its rotation.

“Don’t worry,” The figure shifted. “it usually takes about an hour for the fire truck to get here to help people off.” The figure lifts from his seat to lean out the cabin window and take a shot down towards the ground. You hear the harsh screeching of a bullet cutting through metal and the freewheel immediately comes to a screeching halt, leaving your cabin just shy of the top where no one could possibly look in at what you were doing.

“You better get the show on the road.” The man taunted as he sat back down, one hand pointing the gun back at you while the other reached down towards his crotch. “Times ticking and I’m not letting you stop until we’re both done.”

Vergil

You wish to be dominated? Well, he agrees there was no better person than him to do that for you.

Despite being far more sophisticated than most demons and being able to hide your physical traits, so much so that you lived among humans with none the wiser, you were a full demon. A demon whose body had exceptional healing powers because, no matter what gender you fell into, every one of your species was predisposed to be taken by more powerful demons. It’s just how your people were, always ready and waiting to be dominated. And even though you had formed more humanity than most others of your kind, the desire was still there.

Vergil understood this, having studied demonology extensively and having sensed your demonic energy calling out to his, enticing him to act.

Up until then, even though he was more in tune with his demon half than his human half, he was far too disciplined and civilized to give in to such boorish desires. His goal was to gain power and control. Giving into his lust and taking you, one of the several demons that served under him, would not bring him closer to that objective.

And yet, when you came to him proclaiming your affection and desire for him an alluring rush of dominance came over him. It wasn’t the same feeling as when he defeated an opponent in combat or even when his followers bowed for him. This was deeper, intimate, primal.

It was no use. Even with the generous head start you had been given, no matter how far, how long, or how fast you ran he was there. Sometimes behind you, sometimes appearing in front of you, but always close, as if you were but a worm desperately trying to crawl away from a swooping bird. You were too easy a target when in open areas so had tried to make this more difficult for your pursuer by zigzagging in a densely forested area, but that only slowed him slightly. Still, it slowed him, so to a denser area you ran. Particularly, you started squeezing your way through bushes and overgrown demonic thorny areas where standing straight or walking was an impossibility. This worked for a couple of minutes, even giving you brief moments of reprieve as the sound of his movements and perturbed tisks faded behind the foliage on occasion. However, with him already being on edge with his dragged-out arousal, this obstacle only served to ignite his frustration. With easy flicks of the Yamato the offending plants were sliced to ribbons. Upon noticing this and realizing that continuing to slither through vines while Vergil cut through them was only slowing you down, you leave the dense plants back into the forest. You don’t make it more than a few feet through before an ethereal blade of blue energy pierces your torso, knocking the air from your lungs and pushing your upper body forward harshly, causing you to fall to the ground. Just as you are catching your breath and attempting to lift onto your hands and knees a boot plants itself firmly on your back and forces you back down.

“Foolish.” Vergil calmly said as the summon sword dissolved away, allowing your body to begin its rapid repair of the hole left behind. “Did you really think some fauna would protect you?”

The moment your wound is healed enough you swiftly slash at the leg pinning you down. He kicks your hand back, but in turn lifts his foot from your back. You take the opportunity and scurry out from under him but his hand grabs the back of your head and slams it down into the dirt for your disobedience. An exposed tree root slashed open your brow, spilling blood down your already red face.

“I seem to have underestimated your audacity,” Vergil kneels down, one leg atop your back to hold you in place. “and overestimated your intelligence.” He lifts your head from the dirt by pulling back on your hair. The streams of blood from your, already healed, brow cut caught Vergil’s attention. His cold eyes start to glow and he unconsciously flashes into his demon form as he leans forward to taste your spilled blood. A pleased yet unsatisfied rumbling growl slips from his lips as he pulls back to look at your now teary-eyed face. “Did you truly think I would simply let you go?”

Reboot Vergil

He is glad you came to him for this.

Not just because Vergil is your lover and is happy you trust him enough to admit your darker desires. It was because Vergil knew plenty of ways to get what he wanted out of someone without leaving lasting damage.

True, none of his previous experiences were done with the intent of gaining sexual pleasure but if you were the one in the chair that would come naturally.

What was important was that he knew how to track and kidnap someone without causing alarm. He knew all sorts of ways to tie down a person to make them unable to move, to restrict their breathing, to stick them to any surface, all while leaving space to get at vital areas. He could find pressure points to abuse, both physically and mentally. He knew how to keep someone quiet and how to make them talk. Vergil knew how far he could push a person before they irreparably break.

Even with this knowledge, or perhaps because of it, he doesn’t just jump right in. He takes a few weeks to gather more information on your interests and your limits. Most of his testing is done secretly, through things like training, medical testing, and a bit rougher sex.

How flexible are you? How long can you hold a position? Are you allergic to any food, materials, or medications? How well can you breathe through different materials or with extra pressure on your chest? How long can he keep you awake? How much can he make you cum before it starts to hurt, and how many more until its unbearable?

By the time he actually formulates a plan of attack he knows you, your interests and your limits, better than you know yourself.

Your consciousness raises and falls, like a fishing float bobbing in the water trying to stay afloat while something weighs it back down. In your flickering between memories and dreams, you think back to when you fell asleep. Or, to be more accurate, when you were put to sleep.

You had just entered your home. Nothing felt strange or out of place as you strolled into your bedroom, closing the door behind you. There were only a couple of seconds of peace before something came from behind you and covered your face. It seemed like a mask, as it was shaped to fit the curves of a human face, yet there were no holes to see or breathe through. The inside was a damp cloth-like material that smiled of bitter medicine and the outside was a hard plastic, which you found out when your body instinctively started clawing at the thing. You also found a gloved hand holding the mask to your face.

Another arm wrapped around your upper half, pinning your curled-up arms to your chest. The pressure on your front forces you back until you’re pressed against the broad chest of a sturdy body. You then try to kick your legs back and though you feel the impact the other person’s legs don’t buckle, only brace themselves. Your consciousness starts to fade away as you desperately gasp for air through the cover. In a last-ditch effort, you try to crouch down to slip from the assailant’s arms but they simply hold you aloft as if you were a small, weak, helpless dog. The last thing you remember is your limbs feeling so heavy that they fall slack.

“You’re finally awake.” Noted a close yet muffled voice, bringing your thoughts back to the present. You finally crack your eyes open to see Vergil, turned away as he types on his laptop which sat on a side table. You, in your laying position atop a cushioned table, try to lift your hand up and towards him but soon find that you can’t. Not only do your limbs feel so heavy that your stiff muscles are unable to move them more than teetering, but also because there were leather straps binding your wrists and ankles to the table. The sound of your attempted movement brings Vergil’s eyes to you, browse straight in a relaxed observance and mouth covered by a surgical mask. “Try not to move around too much, you wouldn’t want to dislodge the needle and cause unnecessary harm.” Vergil explained as he carefully pushed the side table out of the way.

Though unable to lift your head you can turn enough to see a needle imbedded in your arm from the corner of your eye. It was similar to an IV drip but what was actually being injected was unknown to you, though you could hazard a guess that whatever it was what was causing your limbs to be so heavy and muscles so weak.

Suddenly Vergil grabbed your chin with his gloved hand and turned your head towards him.

“Speak.” He ordered like you were a dog who still hadn’t learned the trick. “Let me hear your voice.” He didn’t move an inch more, not until you verbally responded. He was looking, though not hoping, for a particular word.

“Vergil, why?” You say clearly, not giving the word but proving that the chemicals in your body weren’t stopping you from doing so. Your words don’t seem to get a reaction out of him. He does release your chin though, instead trailing his fingertips up your jaw and then down your neck and chest, showing that even though your body was heavy it still felt touch just as, if not more, intense as it usually did.

“Well,” Vergil lifted his hand from your body. “you see,” He reached into his coat pocket and produced a pocketknife. “I thought I had made my feelings clear when I transferred you to be my personal assistant.” The knife flipped open to reveal a six-inch blade. “And yet you just don’t seem to get it.” Vergil drags the tip of the knife down your chest, not hard enough to break through the fabric but so you can feel the danger drag against your skin. “I have realized,” You hear a click under the table and then the whirling of machines as the bottom half of the table starts to split in two and fold, in turn forcing your legs open and your knees to bend. “that waiting around until you notice my affection isn’t going to work. So,” Vergil slides the knife’s dull side down to your crotch before flipping it around so its curved tip pierces the cloth covering your crotch. “I must make them undeniably clear to get through to you.” In one quick, calculated movement Vergil slices through your clothing, opening up your top layer completely and putting enough of a hole in your underwear that he can easily tear them open. “And if that means filling your body and mind with nothing but me, then so be it.”

Nero

W-what!?

Nero panics a bit when you first tell him. Growing up in a religious town where sex out of wedlock and prostitution were treated as criminal offenses resulted in him having a very limited knowledge of sex and all its facets. He is able to calm down once you explain things to him: how it would all just be an act and that you only want to do these sorts of things with him.

That doesn’t mean he can handle doing it though. Sure, he can get rough with people like Dante and Credo, but if he senses the slightest bit of fear in someone like you or Kyrie he launches into protective mode. How was hesupposed to be the one causing the fear?

Yet he was also the kind of partner who was eager to please so he would try for you. ‘Try’ being the operative word here because the moment you start tearing up and pretend to plead for him to stop, he falls apart.

He got close, once, but it was far from satisfying. It was a simple scenario. Nero knocks on your door claiming to be a delivery man. When you open your door he forces his way in, has his way with you, and then escapes. Except he kept breaking character to ask if you were okay and if you wanted to stop, despite already having a safe word. And after the deed was done, Nero was supposed to leave for 5-10 minutes to let you stew in the moment. He didn’t even last half a minute before he barged back in to check on you and start apologizing.

It takes a while but eventually you two do find a middle ground that satisfies you both. One that coincidently utilized his engineering skills.

Nero hummed a tune to himself as he cleaned Blue Rose to fill the silence. With how often he wanted to hide away in his room as a teenager, Nero is surprised by how uncomfortable silence felt now that he moved out of his adopted family’s home. Then again, he usually had you to fill the quiet with but not right now. Speaking of which…

Nero looked over at his laptop which fed him consistent diagnostics and just as he did an error suddenly popped up. Looks like his experiment stopped. Did something malfunction or did you turn it off? Either way, he needed to check on it.

As Nero descended the long set of stairs to the basement, he took note of the lack of noise revibrating off the brick walls. That probably meant you weren’t up and about then.

His suspicion was proven correct when he reached the bottom step and there you sat atop the modified tobibako, just as he had left you. You noticed his presence, turning towards him but not saying anything, not that the silk rope in your mouth would let you say anything coherent.

“Sorry for the hold-up,” Nero said as he placed his laptop on the floor beside the end of the tobibako and plugged it in directly so it could run a proper scan of the mechanisms. “I’ll try to get this fixed up quickly.” The first step was to check the wireless kill switch.

It was still in place, untouched, clipped into the bottom level of the tobibako. It sat right where you could easily reach with your right foot, even if the chains attached to the cuffs around your ankles were wound so tight that you couldn’t lift your feet from the floor on either side of the tobibako. Still, just to be sure you hadn’t been left without an escape, he flicked the switch. Instantly the shackles holding your legs in place unlatched and the metal tube locking your arms behind your back opened up. As the tube, and the stand holding it up, retracted back into its compartment, you slump, hands coming forward to slow your descent until your heaving chest is pressed into the cushioned top level of the tobibako.

It didn’t take long for Nero’s laptop to finish its scan, informing its owner where the problem lay. Thankfully it was an easy fix, but it would take a couple of minutes which was fine with Nero. It gave you a chance to catch your breath and/or tell him if you were done for the day. When you didn’t move, and he even caught a blissed smile through the gag, he knew you were enjoying yourself.

“Alright,” Nero closed the hatch and looked to his laptop to make sure all systems were go. “that otta do it.”

You finch, realizing what his words entailed. But before you can move Nero activates the ‘middle link’ which was a curved mettle bar that, since you were laying across the top layer, looped around your midsection to lock you in place. He had built it with your measurements in mind so it wasn’t so tight it restricted your breathing, but it held you flush against the tobibako as it sprung back to life. The top layer vibrated aggressively while the extended lump pressed against your crotch vibrated violently.

You nearly scream behind your gag while your legs flailed and your hands cling to the tobibako as if it could steady you.

“Thanks again for helping me with testing.” Nero said while moving the kill switch from the bottom level to the top, taking a moment to grasp your trembling fingers and lead them to the button so you knew where it was and he knew that you could reach it. “Though with the holdup I may have to extend the timer so I can collect enough data.” You let out a long whine in protest but all you get is Nero’s fingers running through your damp hair. “Not too much longer, don’t worry. Just another… say… 40 minutes until your snack break?”

V

So these are the desires you have been holding back.

Though catching him a bit off guard, V is fully accepting and supportive of your fantasy.

As a lover of poetry, he has read countless works of literature describing the pleasures brought on by any and every manner of things. And so, though he does not feel it himself, V can understand how one would find it alluring to have someone so attracted to you that they are overtaken with passion, momentarily abandoning common sense or morality to satisfy their desire for you.

The only issue holding V back from satisfying your needs was his lack of strength. Though not as frail as his thin body may have you believe, V was still leagues behind his fellow demon hunters, which you were one of.

If you did lose yourself in fear and panic, as you said you wanted to, then V would be no match against your struggle. His physical strength in battle came from his familiars, and he was dead set against utilizing them for such intimate things. He also refuses to incapacitate you through alcohol, drugs, or serious injury. And even if he attempted to use restraints on you, you would throw him off with ease which would quickly shatter the illusion.

Fortunately, it is discovered that your thrill is more so in the fear of being hunted and being powerless to stop it.

An almost supernatural shadow, oppressive, untouchable, and always looming close by no matter how far you run? That, V could do.

You can hear them, the footsteps, ever encroaching closer but never reaching you. The cool night air both added to the chill seeping into your bones yet was not enough to cool your adrenalin-filled boiling blood. You would think having stuck to a main road sprinkled with cars and pedestrians would have brought you comfort, but even through the clamor you could hear the distinct footsteps. The light flicks of leather souls hitting the concrete then snapping back up to the foot, the light clinking of chains, and the tapping of a pointed cane. The sounds, kept uneven purposely to garner the attention of those looking for it, rang in your head like an alarm. And just like an alarm should, your fight or flight instincts kick in and you take off sprinting. You race home as fast as your feet can take you, desperate to escape the looming dread and go back to the one place you were safe.

This hope was shattered when you step into your home to find one of your empty vases not sitting on your coffee table filled with a bouquet of red salvias, camellias, and red begonias.

Now knowing that your home was no longer the safe haven you thought it was, you rush to pack an overnight bag. As you race from room to room you keep an eye out for anything that was new, was missing, or had been used/moved. Your favorite cup had been used and washed; your pillows and blanket had been rearranged; and your shampoo had been used. There were no more gifts, but a few articles of clothing were unaccounted for.

===+===+===

A notification sound from your cellphone snapped you out of your groggy staring at the damp hand towel hanging over the bathroom faucet. It was definitely one of the hotel’s towels, you could tell by the embroidery despite having been in such a rush to sleep anywhere but home that you didn’t even know the name of the hotel you had booked a room in. But why was it damp and hanging over the faucet for drying?

As you wracked your half-awake brain trying to remember if you had used a hand towel last night, you return to the main room. You flop back down onto the overly soft bed and grab your phone. You quickly spring to alert though when you see that the notification was of a text message. To be more specific, it was an image sent via text message from that unknown number. The one that had been periodically sending you photographs without any message to accompany them.

Though hesitant, you take a look at the newest photo. It was of you, in this very hotel room, sound asleep. This time though, instead of being one of you taken from relatively far away or through a window like all the previous ones, this photo was taken closer. So close that the person who took it must have been laying in the bed beside you. Your sleeping face is at peace in the photo, blissfully unaware of the tattoo-covered hand caressing your cheek, smearing the strip of fresh cum.

Sparda

How curious.

Sparda, as a demon, was well aware that many demons desire the thrill of the chase and revel in the act of forcefully taking or being taken. Nonconsensual union was just as common as consensual union in the demon world.

But when he had awoken to justice, he took on a more human moral stance which included the belief that those who took from others what was not offered were criminals.

Clearly, he had more to learn about humans and the vast grey areas in which their beliefs could lay. And he counted himself so very lucky to have you, his loving and patient wife, by his side to show him all the complexities of humanity.

Of course he will fulfill your desires and, speaking honestly, he himself will enjoy indulging a bit in his demonic urges.

What a shame though that not long after you both started to explore this new facet of your marriage, your fragile human body became even weaker.

So be it. Sparda knew how to bring you the same please even with this slight complication.

The sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention. You shift your naked body into a sitting position, which is the most you can do with how short the chains that bind your hands to the headboard and feet to separate bed posts are.

“I have returned dear.” Sparda announced, casually stepping through your shared bedroom door in his human form with a plate in hand.

“Sparda.” Is all you can whimper out as your husband stalks closer, his already impressive 7-foot height seeming even more intimidating with you sitting.

“I must say, I am very disappointed in you my dear.” His apparent perturbed mood could not be heard in his voice or seen in the way he gently placed the plate he had been carrying onto the side table, in turn revealing freshly cooked hashbrowns, an omelet, and a select few pieces of fruit. “The kitchen staff have informed me that you haven’t been eating as of late.” This wasn’t actually true, you were eating just fine, but that’s not part of the show you were both performing.

“Sparda please.” You beg, yanking against the cuffs binding your wrists together to show what you were asking for, but your plea was ignored.

“You can not be neglecting your heath like this.” Sparda took a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, his height making it so he still towered over you. “You need your proper nutrients, especially now that you are not eating only for yourself.” Sparda reaches a hand out to caress your inflated stomach. “You must think of the children dear. They are relying solely on you and your body to nurture them until they are ready to meet the world.”

“Please, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this.” You try to move off the bed but can’t even get both feet to the edge of it, let alone stand up. Sparda pauses then, watching your eyes blown wide in fear and puffy red hinting that you had cried at some point. Despite your desperate expression, you did not give the agreed-upon safe word, so he pressed forward.

“I know that the changes you are going through can be frightening,” His free hand finds yours and gives a light squeeze as if to comfort you. “but this is how things must be. Now that I have chosen you to carry my kin I must keep all three of you safe while you are in this delicate state of creation.”

“Then after?” You cut in, grasping his hand in both of yours and pulling it to your chest. “After I have these children will you let me go?” You looked so very hopeful, but it didn’t last as Sparda chuckled ever so lightly like you were a naïve child asking for a wish to be granted.

“Of course not. The twins need their mother. And who is to say I shall settle for just two heirs? Now then,” Sparda turned just as your face fell into a look of despair. He plucked half of a strawberry off of the plate he had brought in. “it is time for you to eat, my dear.” He holds the fruit to your lips but you turn away with a glare. He responds with one of his own as he grabs hold of your chin and again tries to slide the fruit piece into your mouth. This time you jerk your head back and use a foot to try and push him off the bed in defiance. He does not budge though. He lets out a long, deep sigh as he replaces the strawberry on the plate. “Why must you make things so difficult for yourself?” Sparda moves from a sitting position to a kneeling one. As he forces your legs open you can feel his hands shift momentarily into his demon claws as a warning. “It seems I will have to pacify you first.”

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dante x reader #reboot dante x reader #nero x reader #reboot vergil x reader #v x reader #vergil x reader #devil may cry sparda #sparda x reader #v (dmc) x reader

[icedmetaltea]

Man, I really hate it when I'm reading something and the plot is incredibly good. Like so very good and then it just becomes smut. Pure smut. The amount of times this has happened to me is ridiculous. To each their own of course, I'm not hating on those writers. Everyone has their interests and if that's what they like then I'm happy they feel comfortable enough to share. It's just so difficult to find stories where characters remain platonic or where they don't just have sex a bunch to deepen their bond. Idk. Am I being a prude or an ass for thinking like this?

Are you talking about books or fics? :v

If the latter I highly suggest using the filters to blacklist. There's a guide here! Then just stick to rated G or T and avoid anything with tags that imply there's smut in it (there will still be people who don't tag their shit BUT try to avoid those). In general M or E is always gonna contain some kinda smut, or at least references to sex. Sometimes it's for violence/language but that's rare.

If it's books it's usually pretty easy to tell which books will have smut lol (at least in my experience, I avoid romance books generally)... if there's a shirtless or scantly-clad person on the cover it's prolly gonna have it. You can also check goodreads and sometimes you can tell based on comments and ratings if there will be smut, you can also just ask in the questions section.

You're not a prude or being an ass at all my friend!! Everybody's got stuff they're cool with and stuff they're not cool with. Heck, I have stretches of time where I'm super sex-repulsed and can't look at anything containing sex without wanting to gag. It's not at all unreasonable!

I'm not quite sure where to look for this BUT you may look for books/fics featuring asexual/aromantic characters. There aren't a ton but I know they exist! r/asexuality and/or r/aromantic as well as other internet forums may be helpful with locating books like this- there tends to be some overlap between the two so a lot of the time you'll find people looking for aroace stuff in one or the other. Also I have just today found out the term for romance books without smut is called "closed door" or "clean" romance so that's interesting

And remember: be the change you wanna see in the world! Maybe pick up writing and write the kind of relationship you prefer? It doesn't have to be a full-on book, maybe a fic or a short story with ocs? It can be super fun and fulfilling while also hitting that niche you crave

#Answer tag #Metaltea Talks #*gives anon a pastel blanket*

[allwaswell16]

- 2023 Fic Fest Participation -

Number of fests: 5

Number of fics: 8 out of 13

Favorite fest/fic: @louisrarepairfest because it's mine lol. I get so excited not only to write for it, but of course, to read all the fics that get written for it. It feels like the greatest gift ever! I ended up writing 3 fics for my fest this year. My fav of those is probably: One 

Fests you would love to do again this year (if they come back): Obvs @louisrarepairfest and the newly reformed @1domegaverseficfest

Tagging: @voulezloux @enchantedlandcoffee @letthemusicmoveyou28 @justanothershadeofblue @nouies and anyone who wants to do this, just say I tagged you!

Fics & thoughts under the cut

Do You See What I See for @faithinthefutureficfest

T, 2k, Louis/Harry | vet Louis, humor, stray animals

I don't know what to say for myself here. I had already signed up for another song for this fest, but this one didn't have anyone signed up for it so I said I'd write a second fic for the fest. I apologize to SIBWAWC for writing the silliest fic ever for it. I have so so so enjoyed the comment section for this though hahahahaha! Loved everyone's screaming :)

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet for @faithinthefutureficfest

E, 30k, Louis/Harry | songfic, famous/not famous

Well, this is the fic I actually meant to write for this fest lol. The first time I listened to Chicago I was at an 11 waiting to hear what it sounded like and as I listened this whole story appeared in my head. And I was just like...nah, not gonna write a long kid fic, am I? Turns out I did.

All This Time for Knot in my Name (multi-fandom event)

T, 1k, Louis/Harry | omegaverse, flower shop

So this has a complicated backstory that I won't get into lol, but I noticed this event happening to counteract AI and was like ohhh that's very cool and when I went to the collection I saw @louisthiccsexyglitteryass already had fics there and I was like ooh there are already 1D fics there? So then I felt comfortable joining in, too!

On That Note for a defunct fest that is now @1domegaverseficfest

E, 6k, Louis/Harry | omegaverse, office au, epistolary

Someone suggested a prompt based on a Reddit post that I liked about co-workers who only spoke through random notes on their Dropbox folders. And I saw a post on Tumblr about feral omegas and so I put those things together for this. And I really loved the omega friendships in this one. And it was fun to write the little notes that went back and forth between Harry and Louis.

Ace of Hearts for @sevenseasofharryandlouis

E, 10k, Louis/Harry | pirates, sequel

I had been saying I would write the sequel for Ace of Spades for a YEAR when I saw this fest and asked if I could join way after sign ups closed because 1) it fit the theme and 2) a deadline was the only way it was going to get written lol

Crush for @louisrarepairfest

T, 1k, Niall/Louis | co-workers, office

I decided I wanted to write rare pairs I hadn't ever written before and Nouis just felt right for the prompt. I found the prompt on Tumblr about how some office himbos tried to cheer up their co-worker who had just been dumped by her boyfriend. And they thought maybe mac & cheese would help.

Daydream for @louisrarepairfest

T, 2k, Zayn/Louis | girl direction, coffee shop

Another rare pair I'd never written AND I'd never written girl direction before. I got the prompt from a fic I read in another fandom about two strangers who see each other at the coffee shop everyday and what happens after one of them doesn't show up one day. But then I started writing and it all got chaotic and a bit different than that prompt lol. I think it turned out really fun though!

One for @louisrarepairfest

E, 4k, Louis/Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

SO. Obviously a v rare rare pair. BUT I had been wanting to write Louis/Cillian Murphy for years and couldn't figure out the right story for it. And finally it occurred to me that what I wanted to write was Louis/Cillian's character on Peaky Blinders lol. And then it all fell into place. I really enjoyed writing this as a historical Peaky Blinders fic and playing around with the structure a bit which is why the title is One. You follow Louis from the start, then one month later, then one week later, then one day later, then one hour later...and it actually really worked!

#tag things #my fics #2024fics

[iced-coffeebean]

Fic Writer (of doom) Interview :)

Thank you for the tagged my beloved Stars (aka @starsmadeinheaven)

How many works do you have on AO3?

WOW UH

I apparently have 31 works on AO3. Christ, that's a lot.

21 of them are Yu-Gi-Oh! GX

4 are Original Works

3 of them of Hetalia

2 are Yu-Gi-Oh 5d's

And 1 is Yu-Gi-Oh! DM

What’s your total AO3 word count?

72,638 words apparently. Slay. I didn't think I'd have a lot of words tbh.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Oh god, I wonder.

1. Everything Stays (Hetalia GerItaPan Oneshot)

2. Sakura Petals Blossom But Love Blossoms Faster (Hetalia AmeriPan oneshot)

3. You Know I Love You Right? (Yu-Gi-Oh! DM Wishshipping Oneshot)

4. My Remedy (Hetalia ItaPan oneshot)

5. This Is Home (Yu-Gi-Oh! 5d's fic collab with my brother)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to but sometimes it feels like they don't need me to respond to them if that makes sense?? Sometimes it's just a statement more than a comment of appreciation if that makes sense???

So yeah, it depends.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't really know tbh. I have a lot of unfinished YGO fics that in theory, are supposed to have lots of angst and possibly angsty endings but I never finished those but they don't really count ig??

I haven't really written angst but maybe Cross My Heart In Hopes To Die

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Probably almost all of them have neutral/happy endings.

Everything Stays and My Remedy

Do you write crossovers?

I don't think I've written any currently unless it's Yu-Gi-Oh! related since you can smack some of the shows together. If it isn't YGO shows being smacked together, it probably won't exist. Maybe a series AU for another series but them meeting that series' characters?

No </3

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I've gotten some hate on my Anikishipping fics but tbh idc anymore. I'll write whatever makes me happy and if people have a problem with that, they can suck my dick. Like idk what else to say.

If you don't like it, go write something else then.

Before going onto AO3, I was on Wattpad and we ALL know how THAT must have gone.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I write smut but I rarely ever post it and if I do, it's anon LMAO.

I just feel like it's too awkward and I'm just scared people are gonna judge me LOL.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I wouldn't know and I SURE hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nah. I'm not that famous yet.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

This Is Home is a fic I'm writing with my brother. It's kind of on a hiatus cause of life and cause of the YGO fandom break we're both taking. We'll talk it out and see if we can continue it.

I'm actually gonna hopefully work on new micronation related works with other lads so I'm SUPER excited for that!!!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Hetalia: GerItaPan and MolSeb.

DM: Wishshipping

GX: Anikishipping

5D'S: Toolshipping

Zexal: Aztecshipping

Arc-V: Candyshipping

Vrains: Respectfulshipping

Sevens: Moonlightroadshipping

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I had a Spamano/ItaPan/MolSeb werewolf fic that I was gonna do but I gave the fic away to a moot to write instead since I lost interest in it and didn't want to write anymore.

What are your writing strengths?

Tbh, I don't know. Probably internal dialogue and emotions. I like writing arguments and deep conversations cause it's so fun playing around with people's emotions <33

What are your writing weaknesses?

DESCRIPTIONS AND USING FANCY WORDS.

I don't wanna sound repetitive with words but god, I need to work on having a bigger vocabulary.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I try to use it in fics considering I'm in the Hetalia fandom but I do try to add translations at the bottom/on the notes if it's something that most people wouldn't know by now or more complicated items. I try to not use it cause I don't want to be that person with awful Google Translate or sucky translation app language errors but yk, sometimes duty calls.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Probably Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal or Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V if I'm being honest. I don't remember y'all. It's been a SECOND.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

I wanna write Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains content but the show is so SLOW and BORING for me but I really LOVE Spectre and I would love to maybe write some Respectfulshipping.

I'd also love to write some Gakuto fics for Sevens cause they did his character SO WRONG it's makes me SO MAD.

For Hetalia, I'm not really sure tbh.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

For YGO, maybe Imaginary Friend (Yu-Gi-Oh! GX Anikishipping oneshot)

For Hetalia, it's definitely gotta be My Remedy

I tag these lads (you don't have to do them if you don't want to)

@stardust-revolver @starfishes-and-watercolors @apalonespinifera

This concludes my ask <3

(I'm going to be honest, most of the fics I mentioned here I kind of hate now but I left to see any possible growth or progress when I work on new stuff. I only really like my more recent content but we won't go into that <3)

#iced_coffeearts #coffee rambles #coffee rambles about stuff

[xelasrecords]

I'm here for the fanfic writer asks! I'd like to ask 🥺, 😈, 💖, ✅ and 💔! Yes, it's a lot, but I'm curious!

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Jumin and V, but not in the way that you think (aka not because I love them). Sometimes, I use my 10+ year friendship with my best friend Madeleine as an inspiration for theirs. We talk a lot about how we never have enough time since 90% of our friendship is long distance, how odd that sometimes we do and think things telepathically (she could know when to ring me at the exact time I need her and vice versa), how it's almost intuitive to know what to say to each other and anticipate what the other will do.

The security in knowing that you're deeply loved by someone you love just as much is such a rare and precious feeling I think. I'm lucky enough to have her and I always try to depict that friendship is just as meaningful as a romantic relationship.

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Honestly... no. I don't really think about whether the readers would like my fic as I'm writing. I only try to do what's best for the story, but I often think "oh this is gonna HURT" *punches air in delight* after I wrote a painful piece hehe.

💖 What made you start writing?

I just couldn't stop myself from not writing about my daydreams and ideas anymore! I also wished I could relate more to the MCs in the existing fics. There was quite a lot of shy, insecure and Cinderella-esque reader inserts back then and I couldn't see myself in them. I'm comfortable with myself, I have no problem being in the centre of attention when necessary, and I'm pretty straightforward in dating so I thought I could write that kind of character for people like me!

I remember there was a Jumin's reader who felt insecure when she saw a woman who never smudged her lipstick after eating, sat with a straight posture, had a good table etiquette, and dressed up for the occasion. I was like, "Wait, that's me! Why am I the story's conflict tho" Which led me to wonder how the other woman would be perceived if she was with Jumin, if it could be done without putting another woman down.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

However messy the relationship is, there's always love underneath it all. Even in the fics where one falls out of love, they still treat the other with care and respect. I want to portray different types of healthy relationships, how sometimes what is healthy could still fall apart. And while I do enjoy exploring the dynamic of toxic relationships, I'm careful to paint them in a realistic light.

Oh and! Teasing as a mode of flirting. I think it's because I enjoy verbal sparring when I flirt to see if they can keep up with me, so that happens naturally in my fics.

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

I can't read my works from a pure reader stance, but from a writer stance, it's All That Is Lost. I wrote it with my own grief as the basis—it was something I needed to write about to process my feelings. I included personal tidbits that only I can catch to immortalise the memory of the person I was losing.

Fanfic Writer Ask

#the fourth one is what took me so long to reply #i had to skim through all my fics to see the trend #thank you for asking AAA i had fun doing this #xela answers #ask game #mystic messenger #jumin han #jihyun kim

[nevergonnasimpyoumikey]

What did you think of that GTA trailer???

I loved it! Looks amazing, obviously, the color and the different sceneries... So gorgeous! I already love Lucia and Jason (hot hot hot hot), can't wait to see how their story goes but the trailer song is giving me some ideas:

There was a girl I knew / She said she cared about me / She tried to make my world / The way she thought it should be / Yeah, we were desperate then / To have each other to hold / But love / Is a long, long road

Kinda hoping for some "Lucia corrupting Jason" arc??? 👁👄👁 Since she seems more dominant based on the "Trust?" "Trust." scene which had me !!!!!! btw. I know I'm easy but I don't care, I loveeeee strong character relationships and if they can just bring that enough in the actual game too, it'll be so good. I'm a sucker for difficult love stories and I'm so excited, I hope it's a really strong part of the game with maybe multiple choices on how it's gonna end.

Also Lucia going to prison in the middle of the story instead of starting from there, which is kinda traditional for GTA, would be so cool! I'd love a few prison missions.

I'm a bit sad that the rumor about it being set in the 80s wasn't true because my nostalgic ass would have loved that, but then again, there's so many current day phenomena for R* to parody that I'm okay with this :D Just as it's fun to rewatch V laughing at 2010 things like hipsters and hating hipsters, in 2030 I will watch back at VI making fun of something that won't be relevant at all anymorr. :D There’s a charm to that, the games being portrayals of their time. Even small things like playing IV and taking Niko to an internet café is so stupidly amazing to me. :"DD

Going a bit off-topic here but all this being said, I'm seeing a lot of negativity about a new game being released and "V being forgotten" which makes me a bit sad :D I guess the difference is if you're a fan of the series or just one of the games, and I'm very much a fan of the whole series — the style, the way there are nods to the other games, sometimes the stories woven together so perfectly (for example Catalina, or IV/TLAD/TBOGT diamond story line). I'd say give all the other games a chance too and don't just get stuck on one of them, there's amazing stories and characters in all of the games!

But I get it, change is scary, and yeah, the older games don't get as much attention as the newer ones, so I guess some fans are panicking about their favorite now being treated like the other games? But like... fandoms don't die as long as there's fans, so just keep doing what makes you happy and there'll be others who do the same. IV fandom is going strong after 15 years despite there being a newer game just because the love for the story and the characters is so strong, why would it not be the case for V?

I know the heartbreak of V will stay with me forever, the themes of the game will affect my writing forever, and if I just can, I would like to keep creating for the characters for years more. I rarely forget a fandom anyway but V is still so strong in me even though my writing and "online presence" has slowed down because of life being shit sometimes. But I'm also really very excited for VI and more iconic characters and the fics and the art and new people loving the series and THE ZINES (we gotta do a zine or two!!!) and everything, and I just wish I can have other people excited around me, so... please come fangirl with me 🥹🥹🥹

#Thanks for the question and sorry for the ramble XD #It's been a REALLY rough couple of days but it's helping to focus on something nice 🥹

[unvergangliche]

unvergänglich.

WHY ? THEY BEGIN TO OVERFLOW . . .

 [ˈʊnfɛrˌgɛŋlɪç; ˌʊnfɛrˈgɛŋlɪç] adj . everlasting, unfadying, undying.

independent frieren from sousou no frieren / frieren: beyond journey's end. penned by lily 25+ / selective, small, and attempting to be spoiler free.

RULES .

mun is over 25 / minors and non rp-blogs do not interact.

any spoilers will be tagged 'frieren spoilers' . mun has finished the manga as it updates as of now , so she'll default her verse to early main storyline and once more active, divide it into the story arcs thus far ! 

manga psd made by me, please do not steal, coloring psd made by animangacaps  , while any other graphics on this blog were made by me as the manga ones were .  border header by petra-rals , divider by @cafekitsune !

standard procedure, no info-modding or god-modding, frieren is a legendary mage of immense power and knowledge presently over one thousand years old. she is incredibly dangerous, incredibly lazy, but at the end of the day she is unbelievably powerful. proceed with caution if you're set on fighting her, as i tend to avoid fight threads, the odds are unlikely anyway given her lazy nature but still. she is incredibly wise and silly at the same time , callous and surprisingly thoughtful ( sometimes) and as her ‘time’ moves so much slower than other people, my writing aims to reflect that.

this rule of my boundaries set also applies to drama , callouts , and vague-posting. alongside homophobia / transphobia / racism and any form of unkind , inhumane conduct or bigotry will not be tolerated here. kindness will, but immaturity and cruel behavior will not.

while not unkillable, all fight scenes or conflict i'd like to plot out with you via primarily dms / my inbox as for now my ims are broken ! frieren can lose in a fight, as mentioned by frieren herself that in her lifespan she's lost at least eleven times , that said, with her hunger for more spells and grimoires, she will only increase in knowledge . 

as i continue exploring frieren, which is a very low key blog, expect slow replies please, and be patient as i will be with you, this is a very easygoing paced space! :) ! that said i will never pressure you into replies, so please go at your own pace too ! in terms of writing length, i tend to match my partner but have no real expectation of length or quantity as long as my passion is matched and i have something to work with. i am perfectly fine winging it and plotting just as much.

at some point, i will be adding verses ex: wha, clamp, mahoyome, ex, series not part of her canon . as of now i am only writing within her own universe , so please be patient with me as i explore her unique character . 

as far as ‘ shipping ‘ goes, the likelihood is nonexistent due to how frieren processes time, her own near immortal lifespan, and frieren herself. i feel sousou no frieren also is more heavy on the emphasis of the bonds of platonic and familial carry many of her new and old relationships. if it happens romantically (?), it's gonna be v rare, v plotted, and another 50 years long, and the only 'ship' i really see would ship is frieren / himmel . tl;dr: it's not the focus.

i do not reflect nor represent frieren , we are two different people, one fictional with her own set of actions and mindsets i don't echo as a person mun and muse are separate packages , my only goal is to write my own insight and thoughts from my vantage point to the best of my ability to do frieren justice in my own way.

i can't really think of anything else right now, but thanks a ton for reading ! can't wait to interact with you .

HEY , CAN I REMEMBER JUST FOR TODAY ?

#𝐏𝐒𝐀. | now is all there is. #𝐎𝐎𝐂. | all the time in the world.

[grat10grottenblog]

How To Build Up A Live2D Model in Aseprite Tutorial + Resources

This Tutorial is old and outdated, it also needs to be remade soon but enjoy it still! -v-

Making a Live2D model in pixels were kinda overwhelming, sinse at the time nothing of help were on the Internet about pixelmodels at all. all of this into is just from my experience from making all my models

so i thought it would be a good idea to show you how I make My Models and some tips i've picked up along the way aswell as some info and resources :>

Note This is Part 1 in a series of Tutorials

Tutorials on Steam

How to build up your Pixel-Live2D-Model

How to Export a Pixel-Live2D-Model from Aseprite to Live2D Cubism

How to Rig a Live2D Pixel-Model

Tutorials on Newgrounds

How to build up your Pixel-Live2D-Model <- You're here

How to Export a Pixel-Live2D-Model from Aseprite to Live2D Cubism

How to Rig a Live2D Pixel-Model

but first a little quick info!

Pixel live2D models are made of Upscaled pixelart.

Pixel models are generally more rare than Digital-art Live2D models.

Pixel models are generally rigged like normal models or atleast can be.

here is also a list of Vtubers/Artists who Makes/Uses Pixelmodels.

These could be good to look through before you decide on a way to build your model!

(These are just the ones i've found so far)

NumachiTanegi (Numa) (Vtuber & Artist)

KeinaNate (Vtuber & Artist)

BlubbrMuffins (Vtuber & Artist)

BokiPixelart (Vtuber & Artist)

Chibikki_ikki (Artist & Vtuber)

Poribaketu137 (Artist)

Me, Grat-Grot-10-Berg :> (Artist & Vtuber & Guy Writing right now)

The Paralax Effect VS Deformers

Pixel-models doesnt like being bended by a Warp-Deformer much, and in turn someone smart on the internet found out that you could split the hair into layers and make a simple Paralax Effect with them (Org Tweet of that)

Generally you're gonna be able to recreate the Look left and Look right of the Model Inside Aseprite even before making more then the Head of the model.

Here you actually see i made a mistake on the Left looking one, its outline is a little off

Snapping VS Opacity

Pixel-models, can look pretty nice when stuff just snaps from one position to another, the Opacity from switching sprites can look a bit Blurry if you arent careful.

Bellow are Exsamples of Opacity (The Eyes) and Snapping (The Wings), both work really well, but on the wings it makes sense just to snap else it will just create a Ghost'ish effect. These Sprites Animations are just made by Making the different would be Frames on diffrent layers.

Snapping Exsample

Eye Opacity Exsample

i think thats about all the info i got :>

Okay so making a model, is kinda painful, but atleast we're gonna be in pain together!

i always start by making the Faceplate of the Model. Oh and remember to split everything into layers like a normal model. :>

something like this

Then i ether go and make the front hair, or the eyes i'll go for the eyes for this Tutorial

Something like this!

you need to make a sprite for Open Eyes, Half Closed Eyes, and a Closed Eyes, i mainly only do that with the eyelashes

i split the Eyelash, Eyewhite and the Pupil, i keep my pupils in its own folder so you can add more pupils like a heart eye pupil or an angry/yandere one.

the layers for me ends up looking like this, now do this for the other eye (or eyes) too.

oh and how i add smug is just by adding a small line of whatever skin color the character has under the eyes on a layer above the pupil and eye white.

for it to look good exported, it actually needs to be put a pixel or two down, so when you enable it in Live2D, it moves up into place instead of showing up by Opacity.

when we come to rigging, then i normally bind the smugness to the EyeSmile param,

Thats the eyes done :>

Hair time!

I make my Hair by actually Splitting it into 2 or 3 parts, The front hair, The Middle hair, and the Back hair which is split into even smaller parts.

its very importent that the hair is able to create a small paralax effect like i said before, we do this by the splitting.

i always start with the front hairs, but then when i come to the part thats slightly more behind then i switch to the middle hair and then flip flop between till i'm happy about them

then i as a finish'er i add the back hair, and i make sure the layers sprites overlap slightly even with the outline

then we're nearly done, we still need a neck between the face plate and the middle hair, then thats the head done!

All done, i added a little bit of Expression stuff too, you can go do that too if you want :>

(but just to be sure, test if it can look from left to right, maybe up and down without the outline breaking?)

The body!

I must admit that i'm not the best at rigging the body, i can show you what i do know though

i like splitting the body into two folders, Upper body and Lower body.

I split them up so its easier the Rig the Breath parameter in Live2D

i also split the Legs at the joints so you can make them move when looking from side to side, same goes for the arms.

as you can see its showing two outfits for the model, you can make the model flip between those with a parameter later in live2d aswell

else i dont really do much more then that, my bodies are very simple, heres how it looks though

very simple model, you can always add more to it later! :>

That being said thats about all i know, i hope it gave you a little idea about how you go about building one, its a daunting task, but the end is very worth it.

Now its onto the next Tutorial in the List!

Tutorials on Steam

How to build up your Pixel-Live2D-Model <- You just did this one!

How to Export a Pixel-Live2D-Model from Aseprite to Live2D Cubism

How to Rig a Live2D Pixel-Model

Tutorials on Newgrounds

How to build up your Pixel-Live2D-Model <- You just did this one!

How to Export a Pixel-Live2D-Model from Aseprite to Live2D Cubism

How to Rig a Live2D Pixel-Model

if theres anything that could be worded better or if i'm missing something then please dont fear to dm me about it on my twitter - Grat-Grot-10-Berg

#pixelart #pixelmodels #vtuber #vtuberen #live2D #pixel graphics #tutorial

[slowjamastan]

i really dont have a lot to complain about blorbo-wise but it makes me seeth and cope and dilate that exactly once, in a throwaway line, d/enmark was like "i raised i/celand btw" and that was it and it isnt even really incorporated into their canon dynamic. he RAISED HIM. you're just gonna say that and leave huh? okay. its fine im fine.

and another thing actually

it kind of is incorporated as den and nor having a great time being his annoying and affectionate "older brothers". this is sooooo important to me, theyre like, its , it makes me insane that in modern day their relationship is based in characters' personal history (v diverged from Real History) 90% and actual international relations like 10%....... "stereotype political comedy" my ASS this is my emotional support viking family

its implied once that ice was really hands-off raised, like rarely left his island. what does "raised" mean dan??? did he mean personally, or like, in the literal sense that he was a danish territory up until like 100 years ago? did they interact in phases? did he go to copenhagen for his schooling? did they live together much or often? how often did they write each other?? does he consider him a father figure????

i love dadmark i think its such a fun thing for him, character development-wise......... i just wanna know from word of god canon what their personal history looks like. bc its infuriating that he thought to allude to this but not expand at all ever and ice just calls him a normal nickname no honorific just .................................

and i KNOW that he doesnt care ab norse history i KNOW THIS i know that he was like heehee vague timeline and viking aesthetic cool and then he put a lot of thought into the chr designs which is the only reason those 5 get so much screentime. I GET IT... I WANNA KNOW THO.......... ofc its fine if they never appear again if hima pwomises to introduce more canon characters i would make that trade and just forge onward with fanon

like i know what /i/ believe for them. i know what i want to be real. and i guess thats enough. lmao

#blorbo posting #aph

[ash-th3-fae]

due to high demand (about 1 person) i’m writing a character summary for the beloved Ryn Ramirez buckle up fuckers

Ryn motherfucking Ramirez. Oh my me do we love this man.

Ryn Ramirez, younger brother of Vanté Ramirez. Y’know- same parents as Vanté, same amount of siblings, blah blah blah, doesn’t have any kids though and probably won’t for a while. 28 centuries since manifestation into the Overworld from the Underworld.

In his base form, Ryn is about 5’8”, shoulder length ✨auburn✨ hair, pale skin but not as pale as Vanté’s because he actually spends time outside, manifested in england so we’re just gonna say he’s british, same sort of build as Vanté just doesn’t have abs, blue eyes (not sure what shade, do with this what you will), constantly wears dark eyeshadow, has a sleeve tattoo on his left arm, has a lil loveheart tattoo on his uhm- what do people call it- v-line? whatever, has a fun little third eye tattoo on his forehead.

Ryn doesn’t really have any addictions like the others, has only gotten laid like- exactly once despite being half incubus, hasn’t really had many relationships at all, he’s just sort of an innocent lil guy that wants hugs.

Ryn is a incubus-blood demon mix, so he’s practically harmless, also has his own share of abilities, some overlapping with Vanté’s (Reality Bending, “Glitching”, Identity Shifting (post writing wynter here! just realised i in fact did not list what Identity Shifting is on Vanté’s, so I’ll list it here), and Possession). The ones that don’t overlap are as follows;

-Air Manipulation. More commonly known as “Air Bending”, Ryn can control the air around him within a certain radius, and any plants that produce air.

-“Seduction”. Ryn, despite the factor that he doesn’t actually use it, has an amplified seduction ability given he’s an incubus. This makes seduction rather easy if he so desired.

-Identity Shifting. Ryn can change his appearance however he desires. He rarely uses it, but he definitely has in the past. This does include changing genders entirely.

-Energy-reliant Immortality. Ryn is immortal in the sense that he relies on the ammounf of “spiritual energy” in his system. The moment it fades out, he will pretty much just drop dead instantly. Luckily Vanté came up with a little liquid medicine thing that keeps his energy up so he doesn’t just fucking die, (which is why he lives with Vanté), but if he were to stop taking this and the energy were to wear off, then he would just.. die.

Okay so lore segment; Ryn was the first one to test the official passageway between the Underworld and the Overworld. The only problem is, there’s no returning, and you lose all memory once you pass through except for your demon type, your siblings (yes, you forget who your parents are. cry about it /j), and how to use your abilities. It worked, of course.

Ryn also had the chance to just vibe for a while. He picked up a course in fine arts, graduated, just sort of lived life for a while. Until he too also was yoinked by STS. When he did breach with Vanté, instead of having his rage phase a fortnight later, he instead got extreme mood swings and just continued to live life anyway.

He was later on deemed the “God of Purity” in the Pyrathos religion when he was passing through the country it originated in and came across a group of followers of Pyrathos, where he was then reunited with Vanté. He didn’t stay for very long though and went back home where he started his own little small business of selling artworks and stickers and whatnot. During this time he got the tattoos he has now, not sure when or where quite yet but he did.

Honestly he doesn’t actually have too much lore now that I think about it. He’s just an innocent little guy that could just drop dead at any second.

Well, i guess since i did for Vanté, it’s only appropriate to elaborate on Ryn’s life before manifestation in the castle.

Considered to be the favourite child, Ryn got away with A Lot when he was inside and outside of the castle. He was essentially allowed to go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted. This unrestricted method of parenting however did end up leading him into some pretty hefty situations, which is eventually why he decided to volunteer to test the passageway.

And, due to his carefree, lenient attitude he’d developed from this, when he was at STS, Helix was able to bend him into doing his will and, eventually, weaponised him. It didn’t last very long though since he breached shortly afterwards, but if Helix were to get his hands on him again, then y’know. It’d be possible.

And that’s essentially it for Ryn’s baseline lore. He currently lives with Vanté but he also owns an apartment if he wants some space for a while. He’s a very loveable character, I’ve found, and I’m definitely going to do some more work on him and his lore because yes.

#ryn ramirez #oc #lore #character summary #best boye ryn #we love this man

[mateodoodle]

12, 13, 34, 45, 50! for the fic asks

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike that uave grown on you?

I think time loop Aus. For a while I didnt like reading angst in general v much and I got annoyed quickly by how long it took for the comfort part of hurt/comfort to kick in. But then I read this one that wasn't even hurt/comfort it was just oure angst all the time and I was like "damn... Gotta get me some more of this" and now im a big fan of the angst potential

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don't anymore?

If I'm being honest, not really. Im very picky and only interact with things I like a LOT so if im kind of meh on something, I usually don't engage with it if it's a focus so I don't become more meh on it

34. What aspects of your writing are drawn from your real life?

If a character stims in a way that isn't explicitly stated in canon, its more than likely it's one of my own stims. Very rarely, I give characters stims that differ from my own, i can think of like. One example from a fic I've published and another one from a class I took for short story writing last year

45. What's something you've improved on since you started writing fic?

Im gonna do two. Firstly, i think I'v egoten better at inserting action between dialogue without it being too clunky anymore, even though I still worry about that a lot. Secondly, devsloping story beats BEFORE I write. I used to struggle so much more with writing because I wouldnt plan most of it out, but I go into a LOT of detail now in my drafts and I'm even willing to go out of my way to write scenes from different parts of a story and connect them later on

50. Answer any question. I'll answer the one that asks what my favorite prompt I've written for was. My favorite was for a Convin DBH secret santa I did one year. The prompt I chose (out of two or three others I cant remmeber rn) was time travel which was so fun :¬> i love thinking out of the box with prompts/tropes because it means I have more fun coming up with goofy ideas and making them serious. Time travel fix-it fic where both halves of the ship are sent/send themselves back in time to fix the past, accidentally get in each others'ways, then reveal their situations to each other only to do a surprise pikachu face? Ugh I love that story so much!

#asks #ask game #peach-pot

[hellotherekenobi]

do you still write obi wan stories?

absolutely i do! there are a bunch of requests still to write up for obi-wan on my to-do list and i am still a obi-centric blog, just wanted to write for one of my fav characters. i changed to multifandom a while back [x] but i will still mostly write for obi-wan. just the occasional different character when i feel like it.

#i love him sm so yeah obi-wan will always be here #i think it's gonna be v rare of me to write for other characters but i just wanted to have some freedom in writing for characters i like #:obianswers

[dailyzzy]

Sk8 headcanons (cause I need a break from writing my thesis :,V)

With some input from my friend @crowslikecheesecake cause we create cursed things together <3

Reki's favourite animated movie is "Cars" and he has merch crocs with Lightning McQueen

Langa's on the other spectrum of picky eater - he will eat absolutely everything. But he will rarely comment if he likes the food or nah

Miya has a secret YouTube channel about Minecraft, Fortnite and Roblox, and he thinks no one knows about it - they all know, they're just too scared to tell him

Reki jumps and slaps the top of doorframes before he walks into classrooms

Cherry can't cook at all and he doesn't even want to learn how to do that

Shadow is an absolute king when it comes to skincare routine, he nags Reki and Langa to use proper products cause "they're gonna thank him later"

Since Miya's an iPad kid he knows popular western memes and vines and he will randomly shout them out to confuse others and the only one who understands him is Langa

Miya: I spilled lipstick in your Valentino bag

Langa: youwhahbdhvsghdb you spilled LIPSTICK in my VaLenTino whiTe bag???

Everyone else: ...

Shadow reads GL mangas

Reki has troubles sleeping - he has an irregular sleep schedule, he can fall asleep only when he's totally exhausted and he wakes up pretty early, around 6 or 7 am

Langa on the other hand is a person who can fall asleep anytime and anywhere and when he comes over to Reki for a sleepover he always makes sure to trick Reki into going to sleep early

Miya uses cat emojis all the time

Joe doesn't really like modern technology and he avoids it as much as he can - he writes in a paper calendar, he uses his phone for texting and calling only and he buys a newspaper everyday. He's also super frustrated when it comes to social media and Cherry's the one who takes photos of Joe's meals to post them on Sia la luce Instagram account

Shadow would like to get a flower tattoo someday

When Chery and Joe turned 18 and went on their first trip to France, they didn't have enough money to buy a champagne so they faked a proposal to get it for free

Reki buys colorful band-aids with cartoon characters

Cherry always wears socks when he goes to bed cause he gets cold easily (if we go into slightly nsfw territory - Joe absolutely HATES it cause it's the biggest turn off for him)

Langa and Shadow listen to K-pop from time to time, but Reki's the one who knows the most about it - especially BTS - because his older younger sister is a big fan of them. Reki can recognize all members and knows most of their songs (even solo ones!)

Langa and Joe have no fashion sense at ALL, BUT in different ways - Langa will buy the first thing he sees and choose the most boring clothes and Joe tries, he tries really hard to get a grasp of it, but it's a total disaster anyway

Joe's the most responsible and chill driver ever - he makes sure everyone fastens their seat belts right

"Mi- Miya, I can see that. I don't care you'll crumple your new shirt, you want it a little crumpled or covered in your own blood? Yeah, that's what I thought." "For the last time, Reki, you can't be under the same belt as Langa, it doesn't work like that" "Kaoru, help me out there a little bi-" *Kaoru is asleep*

When Reki and Langa visit Canada, Reki insists to talk in English in shops and restaurants and he has that super heavy Japanese accent, but Langa can't get enough of Reki's pure joy when he gets his point across to the other person so he lets him do that. He hides behind Langa when someone starts speaking French tho

Langa watches conspiracy theories videos unironically (and yes, he even joined a flat-earth group on fb once)

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #headcanons #daily rambles #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #shadow #cherry #joe #hiromi higa #kojiro nanjo #kaoru sakurayashiki #matcha blossom #renga #miya chinen #absolute crack shit

[javier-pena]

triumvirate

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Katie

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

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

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

Warnings: mentions of food and alcohol | some language | threesome (f/f/m) | thigh riding | fingering | oral (m and f receiving) | light choking | light dirty talk | unprotected (p in v) sex | praise kink if you squint | size kink if you squint | orgasm delay/denial | sub!Javi until he’s definitely not | multiple orgasms | creampie

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

***

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

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

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

You trust him, and he trusts you.

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

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

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

“Is that so?” you ask teasingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Katie likes fishing,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you having fun?” he asks next.

“Yes, of course.”

“And the food?”

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

“And Katie? You like her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s about Katie,” he answers.

“Sure.”

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

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

“Just if you want to,” he clarifies.

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

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

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

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

“Would you like that?” you ask him.

He nods.

“Why her?” you want to know.

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

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

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

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

His eyes open wide at this. “Yes.”

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

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

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

“Yes, just –”

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

“What –,” you start.

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

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

“I am saying something,” he points out.

“Yeah, but sooner.”

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

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

He nods.

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

He nods.

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

He nods.

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

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

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

“Can I take her home?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer.

He licks his lips. “Yeah, okay.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s it like then?” you challenge.

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” you say, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, all right,” Katie agrees.

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

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

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

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

“What?” he snaps.

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

“Well, you weren’t doing a good job.”

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

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

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

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

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

He shoots you a stern look.

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He did,” Katie confirms with a nod.

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

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

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

“Yes,” Javi says, “we stop.”

“Of course,” Katie agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t have to say it. You know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You all right?”

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

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

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

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

He looks at you, a question on his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you all right?” you ask her.

She nods slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve teased him enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The urge to kiss him becomes unbearable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, nothing more.

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

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

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

“Katie, stop,” you say.

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

“Change of plans,” you tell them.

“No, please.”

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

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

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

“Yes, you can, but please …”

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

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

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

“Yes,” Katie says, her voice hoarse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Katie nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you say between licks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Think you can do it?” he asks Katie.

“I don’t know,” she answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll give you a call, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

taglist (mostly people who showed interest in this fic): @acdeaky | @ah-soka | @chasingdreamer | @codenamewife | @darksber | @deliriouslybewitching | @dindja | @doin-stuff | @filthybookworm | @for-my-satisfaction | @frannyzooey​ | @itssmashedavo​ | @kesskirata​ | @leannawithacapitala​ | @murbeft | @omgreally​ | @pedropascaldice​ | @phoenixhalliwell​ | @phrog-seeds | @pilothusband​ | @queenofthefaceless-main | @reluctantlyresponsibleadult​ | @skyshipper​ | @softpedropascal​ | @speakerforthedead0​ | @starrdvstkenobi​ | @sunnydunnydays​ | @tacticalsparkles​ | @theorganasolo​ | @walt-breslin​ (if your url is crossed through it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason, I’m sorry!)

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

[commander-diomika]

[Image ID: Screenshot of a tumblr reply from user @weareallfromearth ​​ saying “Holy shit I would V much like to know what you’d do with ZolfWilde.” End ID]

This was in response to me tag rambling that if Alex “I don’t Actually Have That Much Experience in Courtship” Newall and Ben “I just Realised I’m Too Straight For This” Meredith don’t know what to do with Zolf/Wilde, they should hand the ship over to me. 

*rubs my gay little hands together.*

I initially characterized them offhandedly as Enemies-to-Lovers but that’s not quite it, is it? On reflection I would say it’s more of an Opposites Attract situation.

Oscar Wilde, as re-imagined in the RQG universe, is a homme fatale; a dangerous, attractive man, skilled in encouraging people to underestimate him, wearing different masks, never quite being able to trust or be trusted by anyone.

There is NO personal/professional line for Wilde. He lives his work, and his work is subterfuge and interpersonal manipulation. (whether or not he started this way in his field as a journalist, or was forced to become this way by the changes in his world, is another post.) He is a person who either cares very deeply what people think of him, or is has decided that manipulating what people think of him is the way to get what he wants, and from the outside it makes no difference.

Zolf Smith does not care what people think of him. He isn’t even skilled at being kind and empathetic to people he cares about; he has no time for emotional manipulation or genuine charm. He doesn’t even have a fantastic grasp on his OWN feelings, let alone other people’s. He’s grounded, disinterested in frippery or appearances. Which is why Zolf and Wilde started out so deeply at odds with one another.

Despite the differences in the interpersonal approaches, they have plenty of common ground.

They are both deeply dedicated to a cause. They care about their work to the exclusion of all else. They are both pragmatists who have their own internal moral code, and are willing to bend or break other people’s rules in order to get the job done. They are fundamentally good people. Despite their rocky beginnings, they can respect each other because of these things.

And they might have maintained their mutually disdainful, begrudgingly respectful working relationship and that could have been the sum total... Except then the world fell apart. The Meritocratic organisation was initially compromised, then disintegrated. The blue vein plague isolated everyone and made it even harder to trust supposed allies. The Cult of Hades was on everyone’s ass making their life difficult, the other PCs disappeared off the face of the planet. Zolf and Wilde ended up in a situation where they had no one else they could trust.

Familiarity breeds contempt, but maybe if the contempt is already there, it builds Something Else. Wilde was stripped of his magic in a way that made it much harder for him to keep people at a distance and (pardon the pun) project the illusion of the debonair playboy. Zolf would have had the chance to see through Wilde’s masks, and get a better understanding of what parts of Wilde were a calculated tactic, and what was his genuine self.

Whatever betrayal transpired that gave Wilde his scar and hardened him, Zolf was privy to. He was either there and saw it happen, or he was close enough in the aftermath to see Wilde properly vulnerable for the first time in their friendship. Hell, maybe Zolf was the one who rescued him and patched him up. That was a chance for Zolf to realise that this insufferable man is a friend who he cares about deeply. At this point, he’s cared for awhile, but has been too wrapped up with his own spiritual difficulties to have space to admit that to himself.

And Wilde, oh Wilde, he’s desperate to be seen and known and loved, but he’s never allowed himself. He’s never felt SAFE to. He doesn’t let people get close, treats every conversation as a battle to be won. His safety and his power lies in being admired, but never loved. So even as trust and fondness for Zolf blossoms within him, he won’t for a second allow himself to hope that the fondness is reciprocated

With all that out of the way, this is my version of events.  

Wilde is a slut (affectionate), and Zolf is gray-ace, so if there’s any bridging of that gap in terms of physical intimacy, it has to be from Zolf’s side. Giving canon a tender massage into place, that first instance of Zolf grabbing Wilde by the collar changes. (This happens on the Vengeance after Zolf has taught Wilde to steer the ship). Zolf drags Wilde down to say “I’m glad to see you perked up.” That moment now involves a whiskery kiss on Wilde’s cheek, and the man would be absolutely FLOORED by it.

I’m talking slow-mo glittering lights as Zolf stomps off blushing, unsure what just came over him; Wilde touches his cheek in bewilderment for a stretched moment before realising he’s completely agog, and he let go of the wheel for a dangerous length of time. Every interaction, every moment they’ve spent together over the last two years is flashing before Wilde’s eyes and a new context is being applied rapid fire. I’m talking the italacised oh kind of moment.

(on top of Zolf being witness to The Betrayal, throw some other moments of almost-intimacy into said flashbacks. I’m talking late nights, Zolf doing his gruff-yet-kind caretaker thing, cooking for Wilde, maybe sharing quiet and rare downtime with Zolf reading a Campbell novel on a couch in Wilde’s office)

Wilde is realising, “Oh this is allowed, oh this is reciprocated, this is possible.”

And of course they don’t talk about it, because what’s a slowburn if they immediately go and TALK about their feelings? No, the kiss goes completely unremarked upon, and Wilde continues to needle and tease and get under Zolf’s skin, except now with an added warmth in his eyes because he finally gets it. He finally understands that Zolf cares, that Zolf loves him, he’s just not the kind of dwarf that knows how to express it.

And Zolf, frustrated by feelings he can’t express but is beginning to understand, can hear the undertone of “haha, you looooove me,” shining through Wilde’s deliberate antagonism. They continue their time on the Vengeance just a little easier and closer to one another.

And we continue on to the death/resurrection arc, and Wilde’s spirit pushes for Zolf to open up about his feelings, because if not when he’s literally past death’s door, then when? When Zolf finally manages his “I need you,” it’s like a dam has broken for both of them. The second collar-grab and “We’ll go on a holiday or somethin’,” is now followed by a full kiss on the lips, not particularly erotic but passionate, (it’s the epitome of kissing someone to shut them up) and Wilde makes a surprised and delighted squeak that he would be glad he can’t quite remember when he returns to land of the living.

Once returned, Wilde might not remember everything that his spirit said or did, but he remembers the kiss. The comfort and ease that the two of them share in 179 (Eat Drink and Be Merry) is there, only instead of the two characters still being in a place of questioning their feelings for one another, it’s been answered.

Whether or not this relationship is sexual in nature is kind of up to you and what kind of fan works you like to read/write. I think there are wonderful scenes to be written an explored in many directions.

Wilde allowing himself to enjoy sex for intimacy and closeness instead of using it as a tool/ Zolf not being one for sex but Wilde’s never slept more soundly than when he’s being held in Zolf’s arms/ Zolf realising that the unfamiliar feeling he’s been struggling to express is the desire to rail Wilde til he cries/ Wilde realising that if his partner doesn’t want it from him, he’s actually quite content without sex/ The two of them being mean, antagonistic bastards to each other while fucking but Make It Kink (of the trusting and RACK kind). There really isn’t a single bad interpretation.  

So really, I’m not doing anything different with them other than reading between the lines, giving canon a little nudge, and sticking the landing. This isn’t to disparage the concept of queer platonic partners. (I’ve got one!) or to talk shit about Ben or Alex (I DO respect their craft).

It’s just to say I find these two characters , and everything they’ve been through, PAINFULLY romantic, tropey, and delightful. I’m looking forward both to how Ben and Alex play the QPP, the fanworks I’m gonna read and hopefully write, and the inevitable tragedy that you KNOW Alex is gearing up for.

#zoscar #zolfwilde #RQG #rusty quill gaming #zolf smith #RQG Oscar Wilde #hank talks #rqg podcast #rqg meta #feel free to reblog #and to talk to me about it