#I’ve been fighting for my life against this piece for over a week

[inkyrainstorms]

Milestones

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face I sincerely and honestly wish you a very get exploded.

[meinii]

hellloo!!! can i request a girl/boy/twindad!Caldb? i love your work btwww!! ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

“twin dad Caleb”

hi anon! tysm for your requestꈍᴗꈍ I hope you like this!

content: fluff, two babies!

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

Caleb had been through countless high-stakes situations in his life—piloting through storms, outrunning enemy fire, and navigating through deep-space turbulence. but nothing, nothing, compared to the chaos of having twin babies

"alright, alright—one at a time!" Caleb pleaded as he held a bottle in one hand and tried to balance his son, who was currently clinging to his shoulder like a tiny, stubborn koala. his daughter, meanwhile, was lying in your arms, sleepily gripping onto your fingers

you laughed, watching him struggle "you were so confident about handling two at once earlier"

Caleb shot you a look over his son’s head "listen, I’ve flown through storms, and I still think this is harder"

your son babbled something incoherent, tiny hands patting Caleb’s cheek

Caleb sighed dramatically "at least my co-pilot here agrees"

your daughter let out a soft giggle, curling up against you

Caleb glanced at the little girl in your arms, his eyes softening

"she’s definitely your kid," he muttered "look at her. so calm, just like you"

you smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead

"and he’s all yours" you teased, nodding toward your son, who had now latched onto Caleb’s jacket zipper with an iron grip

Caleb chuckled, shifting his son into a more comfortable position "yeah, well, can you blame him? I’m pretty great"

your son squealed in agreement, making Caleb grin

_

Caleb had been waiting months for this moment

the tiny pilot uniforms had arrived in the mail weeks ago, but today, he finally had the chance to put them on the twins. you watched, amused, as he carefully dressed them—handling them as if they were made of glass

"okay, little guy, arms up" he instructed, slipping his son’s tiny arms into the miniature flight jacket, just like Caleb’s real one.

his son let out a delighted squeal, kicking his legs excitedly

meanwhile, you were helping your daughter into her own uniform—hers a tiny replica of Caleb’s official pilot attire, complete with a name patch that read “CAPTAIN [HER NAME]”

when both twins were finally dressed, Caleb stepped back, taking in the sight with the proudest grin imaginable

"look at them!" he said, hands on his hips "future pilots for sure"

you raised an eyebrow "they can’t even walk yet"

Caleb scoffed "details, details. walking is just pre-flight training"

your son babbled in response, clapping his hands

"see? he gets it"

you chuckled, shaking your head as Caleb lifted both babies up into his arms, making them “fly" around the room while they giggled

_

building legos with babies was a mistake.

or at least, that’s what Caleb realized after the twins immediately tried to eat the pieces.

"hey, hey, nope—not for chewing" Caleb said, gently prying a lego block from his son's mouth.

you sat beside your daughter, who was far more interested in watching than participating, her big eyes blinking up at you as you held a piece in front of her "here, sweetheart, try putting this one on top."

she grabbed the block with her chubby little fingers and smacked it against the tower Caleb was building. it immediately fell apart

Caleb groaned dramatically, clutching his chest "betrayal!"

your daughter giggled at his reaction, reaching for another block—only to throw it at her brother instead

"oh, we’re starting fights now?" Caleb teased, setting down his son to sit between you both. "okay, okay—new plan. mommy and daddy build, and you two supervise"

your son clapped his hands

your daughter grabbed a block and tried to chew on it again

"close enough" you said with a laugh

Caleb sighed, kissing the top of her head "one day, kiddo, I’m gonna teach you how to build the best damn spaceship out of legos"

your daughter responded by drooling on his sleeve.

Caleb winced "great. Thanks for that, sweetheart"

you laughed "consider it a pilot’s initiation."

_

Caleb loved bedtime.

it was one of the rare times the twins were calm, and he cherished every moment of it

tonight, he was sitting on the rocking chair in the nursery, both babies bundled up in their matching star-patterned onesies. your son was in his arms, already dozing off, while your daughter was nestled against your chest, blinking sleepily

"alright, little co-pilots," Caleb murmured, adjusting the book in his lap "tonight’s story is about the bravest little pilots in the galaxy"

you smiled, settling beside him on the chair "that sounds familiar."

Caleb smirked "it should. I wrote it."

your daughter let out a tiny yawn, curling up against you

Caleb began reading in a soft, steady voice, his hand gently rubbing your son’s back as he spoke

"once upon a time, in a sky filled with endless stars, there were two little pilots—strong, smart, and brave…"

as he continued, you felt your daughter’s breathing slow, her tiny fingers still curled around your sleeve. Your son shifted slightly in Caleb’s arms, then let out a deep sigh, completely relaxed

by the time Caleb finished the story, both twins were fast asleep

he let out a quiet breath, pressing a soft kiss to his son’s forehead before glancing at you. his expression was filled with so much warmth it made your heart ache

"can you believe we made them?" he whispered

you smiled, brushing a gentle hand over your daughter’s soft hair."yeah. pretty amazing, huh?"

Caleb’s gaze softened even more as he leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips

"yeah," he murmured "the best thing I’ve ever done"

[emmyrosee]

Pls pls pls help a girl out!!

Its shark 🦈 week and whenever I’m in shark week I crave angst full on body angst ne you write it best 😭 pity me

I write it the best…? 🥺🩷 also no specific character in mind for this, but yall are married so 🫶🏻

————-

You’ve been yelling at each other for hours.

The circles of verbal assault haven’t slowed its pace, vile, cruel words flying from one mouth to pierce the heart of the other, only for the other words to come harder, meaner, louder. The throes of anger keep you both pinned in place, unable to stop, think, and see the damage you’re causing each other.

Your hands are swollen from your fists being so tightly balled, migraine forming from your scowling. His brows are stuck pinched in the center of his forehead, so deep you’re convinced they’ll stay there for days after you’re done. His teeth are grit so tight together that you want to massage his jaw to make them loosen before he shatters his pearly whites into pieces.

The culprit? A cold cup of tea, that now sits to the side dejectedly.

Because of that cold cup of tea, you’ve been screaming for two, going onto three hours, with no end in sight.

But, it’s not about the cold tea. It’s about the fact that the urgency in your love is gone, the quickness and determination to be with each other has dissolved into nothing but sugar melting in a mug of tea. Your time together has been awkward, it’s been minimal, and in your search to do something nice for him, like a warm cup of tea, he allowed it to get cold, and… what happened next?

There’s boundaries being crossed, lines of truce being broken as you cast vicious words against each other, the use of insecurities to make the other crumble and conjure a look of hurt, only to morph to disgust and yell back something even more heinous.

And yet…

“What did I even marry you for?” He snarls, throwing his arms out. “I’m certain it wasn’t for this! So why are we wasting our time right now?”

Your world stops.

In an instant, all words die on your tongue. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish as all you can think about are his words. They repeat in your head, almost in slow motion, as your heart sinks in your chest.

“What…?” you croak. Your throat is dry, mouth cottony, and you silently pray to anything, holy and not, merciful and malicious, that you didn’t hear him right. Your mind is lying, so tired of fighting you’re seeing the worst in him as a defense mechanism.

“You heard me,” he barks. “Your life is so miserable? You hate it here so much? GO.”

You heard him right.

You wished you hadn’t.

Your arms come up to cradle yourself in comfort, the fire swirling in your chest now extinguished, the once lively fight now being reduced to a ringing in your ear.

You’d… when did he…

“You don’t get to sit here, call me a cheater, a loser, a liar, all for your own good mind. Not when I’ve put my whole LIFE into you. I gave you my WHOLE. LIFE.”

“Why…”

“What?” He snarls.

You sniffle. Your bottom lip wobbles, and you blink a line of scalding tears out; you’re surprised they don’t sizzle your flesh from being so hot with frustration.

“Why… are you being so mean?”

“Mean?” He snaps. “Mean, you’ve called me some of the cruelest shit I’ve ever heard in your vocabulary, but I’m being mean? Do you even hear yourself, IM THE MEAN ONE?”

“Do you really wonder why you married me…?”

Your voice is so quiet, you wonder if he heard you.

He opens his mouth to spew his venom, only to stop dead in his tracks. His brows soften as his eyes widen, jaw slacking subtly. For the first time tonight, the room is quiet; still thick enough to cut the tension with a blade, but it’s quiet enough where you both can gather your thoughts.

You wipe your nose with your arm, “do you really think I want to stay here and fight with you? Is that how you think I want to spend my night with you?” You sob softly, “because it’s not. I don’t want to fight with you over cold tea… I don’t want to…”

You can practically see the lightbulb over his head light up. That’s right, you think to yourself. This is about tea.

“I…”

“I don’t question why I married you,” you whimper. “I know exactly why- because I love you. But the man I know would never, and I mean never, verbally assault and question his love for me over a cold. Cup. Of. Tea.”

“I don’t…” he shakes softly. “How did we get here…?”

“You started this war,” you hiss. “I didn’t.”

“Baby…”

“Don’t you fucking baby me,” you snap. “No. You don’t get to do that as a way to weasel out of this. You’re not going to guilt me with pet names to forgive you.”

“No, no, baby- damn, no, I mean-“

“You know what?” You pull your lips down into a frown and throw your hands out in defeat. “You want me gone so bad? I’m gone.”

“No, no, wait,” he begs, reaching out for one of your hands. You whip them back like he’s made of fire, and he reels away, as if keeping you safe, “no, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t question my love for you, I’d rather die than ever have you wonder if I love you-“

“Then you’d better have a goddamned good explanation for this,” you hiss. “Because right now? We’re done.”

“No!”

“I’m…” your strength is gone. Your lip quivers and your hand comes up to cover your mouth, and you wail as you make a dash out of the room, darting for the bedroom. You lock the door and slam your fist against the wood, screaming, howling in agony at the heartbreak of potentially losing your husband over a cold cup of tea.

Things spiraled so far out of control, that he questioned his love for you. How are you to come back from that? Angry words are truth shrouded in cruelty, and you are not going to let him berate you in such a manner as to wonder if this marriage was a good choice. You deserve far more, far better, than that.

On the other side of the door, you hear a soft poomf, then a thump. You stop crying to try and figure out the noises and their purpose.

“I’m here,” he says quietly, a far different tone from how he was speaking to you not three minutes ago. “I won’t try to come in. I won’t make you talk to me. But I’m here… and I love you. And I’m sorry.”

“Bite me,” you choke.

You hear him sigh through his nose, “I… I know why I married you,” he whispers. You don’t say anything. He continues regardless, “because you’re you. And on our first date, you were late because you hated the outfit you had planned, but you looked so fucking good, I couldn’t handle it. And it was that day, I decided I wanted to wait for you, forever. You are more than worth waiting for. And…” you hear him clear his throat, but there’s an emotional block in his voice, “I’ll keep waiting for you. Right here, on this floor. I’ll sleep, I’ll eat, I’ll piss I’ll die here, I don’t care, I’m right here. And I’ll stay here to prove that you’re worth waiting for.” He shudders.

“I’m happy to wait for you.”

———

haikyuu: daichi, kageyama, tsukishima, kuroo, yaku, iwaizumi, mattsun, hanamakki, oikawa, kyotani, ushijima (different font), kita (also different font), atsumu, osamu, suna, sakusa, meian

bnha: bakugou, dabi, hawks

jjk: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, toji, shiu

tokyo rev: baji, draken, mikey, hanma, rindou

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 9. 10 Gold Pieces (Garrick)

One tragic day changes Dahlia's life forever. Despised by her father and brother, she's spent her entire life trying to be the child and sister she use to be. But nothing she ever does is good enough. She joins the Rider's Quadrant to prove them wrong. Garrick now in his second year has proven he is more than the mark on his skin to his fellow riders, and taken leadership of his own Squad alongside Xaden. Little does he know the girl walking across the parapet is about to send him on a rollercoaster of a year.

Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist A/N: I just wrote her threshing part. And I can't wait for you guys to meet her dragon.

The snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves announces the arrival of the rest of the group. Xaden and I turn to see Eya leading the very small group of first years over to us. One by one they lower their hoods, their faces illuminated by the moon overhead.

”So, how did you all go in challenges?” Xaden asks as if he doesn’t already know.

He had watched every single fight we we’re in. He already knew what everyone needed to work on and improve. But he wanted to hear it from them. Needed them to figure out their strengths and weaknesses on their own.

”Well I don’t know about you guys but I kicked ass out there today.” Imogen says confidently as she crosses her arms across her chest.

She had done good. She’d clearly ended up in a home where she was allowed to train and fight. Her technique was a little sloppy, but it was something we could work on and fix.

”Yes, we all know you did well.” Ciaran mutters as he leans up against a tree.

Imogen’s head snaps towards him, eyes locking onto his instantly. I watch as Ciaran cowers slightly at her stare. A stare I couldn’t help but compare to that damn Aetos girl now. Fuck.

”Yes I did, unlike you two. What the hell was that footwork? I’ve seen babies taking their first steps have better footwork than you.” She snaps back at him without missing a beat.

”Not all of us got sent to homes where we were allowed to train.” He grumbles back before turning his head away from her.

Bodhi rubs the back of his neck nervously. He had won his fight, but barely. “I won, but I definitely could have done better. Pretty sure I was a few seconds off losing.”

Xaden nods in agreement. “You just need to get use to different fighting styles again, refine your technique. Which is why we’re doing this. Having these meetings so we can help each other instead of insulting each other.”

Imogen huffs at Xaden’s words, fully knowing the last ones we’re directed at her. Deep down she did care, and would help anyone who needed it. She just needed to stop having such a short fuse.

”Which is why we’re also going to start shuffling the groups up for training, that way you guys can learn off each other.” I announce, everyone nodding in agreement.

”We’ll keep the same nights per week, you’ll just change who you’re with every day or two so you don’t get use to fighting the same person.” Xaden adds.

Bodhi clears his throat, drawing our attention to him. “Am I still able to keep my one night per week for the other training?”

He doesn’t say her name, but I know who he means. Dahlia. He’d been training with her and two others from his squad. Similar to what we we’re doing with the other marked ones. Making sure they survived.

Xaden nods. “Yes, I want to make sure our squad has a good chance in challenges, and hopefully squad games later in the year. And honestly training with her would be very beneficial.”

A growl rumbles from my throat before I can stop it, everyone turning to look at me. Everything about her infuriated me. The way she’d proven me wrong today in her challenge, her attitude, and of course that damn last name.

”What’s his problem?” Imogen mutters to Bodhi, causing him to smirk.

”He doesn’t trust Dahlia. Think’s she’s going to rat us out to her father if she finds out what we’re up to.” He tells her happily.

Imogen looks at me and cocks her eyebrow. “Really? Have you seen how she is with Dain? They hate each other. Pretty sure that extends to her father to.”

”Yes, but as I keep saying it could all be an act. She’s probably waiting for us to slip up.” I growl out before clenching my jaw.

”Someone’s just salty he under estimated her fighting ability.” Xaden teases from next to me as he leans back against the tree.

”I am not!” I grumble back at him.

”Oh, so you weren't ranting to me earlier about her making you eat your words?” He challenges.

I narrow my eyes at Xaden, my nostrils flaring as I huff at him causing him to chuckle at me. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Bodhi smirking at me. He wasn’t wrong though. I’d very much under estimated her. Thought everyone had talked her up because of who she was. But today she had only solidified the talking I’d heard about her. How she had definitely taken down that third year without breaking a sweat. I’d even laughed as she’d pulled out a staff she’d kept close to her side. A very rare weapon choice, especially for dragon riders. But she’d made it look so easy. Made that damn staff look like a deadly weapon. And something told me she would be just as talented with any other weapon she touched. She’d literally made me eat the last words I’d uttered in her ear before she stepped onto the mat.

”Damn Tavis, she’s really gotten under your skin.” Imogen teases, not even phased by my temper.

”Oh you have no idea.” Xaden mutters causing the others to snicker.

”You lot done? Because last time I checked we weren’t here to talk about her.” I say angrily, trying to end the conversation.

”We’re done. I’ll let you know who you’re training with tomorrow.” Xaden says, promptly ending the conversation topic.

Everyone nods in agreement before placing their hoods over their heads, turning to head back up to the quadrant. Xaden and I hang back, taking place at the rear of the group, ready to hang back so we don’t arouse suspicion heading back into the quadrant together. Now that there were more marked riders, we’d noticed Professors and any leadership that were around were becoming more strict on us sticking to the hanging out in groups of three or less.

A few steps a head Imogen leans her head towards Bodhi. “How much you wanna bet he ends up fucking her?”

”What did I just say!” I roar, causing everyone to burst into fits of laughter as I push past them.

”10 gold pieces.”

Taglist: @imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94

[emotionalhottiee]

Broken 💔

Jimmy Uso/Jonathan Fatu

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

just a quick oneshot until i get over this writers block. Hope you enjoy.

Heart Broken…

Doesn’t even begin to explain how i feel. How could he do this to us?

Thoughts of frustration and brokenness ran rampant through my mind as hot tears poured down my face. After all i had been through with Jonathan how could he throw away everything we had. My mind ran back to walking into his condo, opening his bedroom door to be met with an image of some ig thot, bent over while the love of my life was behind her. My heart shattered had into a million pieces.

Now the tears I’ve been crying out, for the past 30 minutes have blurred my vision. Thinking about that day against my will. But seeing him tonight made the memory pop up. Even though i knew there was a slight chance he would be at our friends birthday party. Actual seeing him, just felt like another knife being jammed right into my heart.

“Kenzi, are you alright in there?” “You’ve been in this bathroom a long time” my friend Kiara screamed through the door.

I hadn’t even realized i had been in here that long, but i just couldn’t stop crying. Watching Jon strut up in this party with some new girl on his arm. As if the last year and a half meant so little to him, he could move on within days. LITERALLY 5 days ago i caught him in bed with another woman.

And now it’s saturday, and he bought a whole other woman with him. Damn, How many others were there? I thought to myself as i wiped the tears from my bloodshot red eyes. Trying to cover up the fact that i been in the bathroom of a mutal friend of ours,sobbing over this man. What did i ever do to make him be so cold & callous towards me?

I have to pull myself together! I tried to tell myself encouragingly, i am not going to let him see me, so vulnerable. For what? He doesn’t seem to care in the least bit. Too busy fake laughing at the girl with her ass hanging out of her shorts.

He’s knows her ass ain’t that funny.

As i finish up wiping my face, one last time. Before i could even get myself all the way out of the bathroom Kiara yanked my ass into a tight hug. She knew i needed this that’s why she my friend.

“Girl don’t let him make you sad. Fuck him, you deserve so much better.” She calmly stated to me rocking us back & forth. This is exactly what will make my ass start crying again. But i am so thankful for my friend, trying to keep me from being sad.

Against Kiara’s advice i decided to stay at this party. This was one of Jon & I’s mutal friend, I’m not gonna let him feel like he has won (Even though he totally has won).

I put on my bravest face to go back and chill, before our friends pull out a game of taboo. We had split up into two teams and of course i end up on a team with Jon & his whore of the week. It was almost as if God was punishing me for still wanting to be around him. But truth be told i was obsessed with him. I loved him more than the air i breathed.

And as much as i can possibly lie to myself, i know he loves me too.

*some time later*

The party winded down, Kiara & I were helping our friends clean up. Jon’s little girlfriend ended up leaving. I thought they would’ve rode together but i guess not. And I’m honestly kinda happy about that. He’s been staring at me all night. Now that he’s alone i know where this night will take us. Especially since i rode with Kiara.

Jon asked me if i needed a ride home, knowing damn well i don’t like driving at night. I tried to act like i had to go back with Kiara, she gave us a shrug letting us know she didn’t mind. She knew me too well. As much as she wanted me to stand up for myself, she knew where my heart was. And wanting to be there for me she wasn’t gonna fight me on it. I appreciated that. Giving her a hug goodnight she gave me eyes of pleading, but with a hint of be careful. I rubbed her arms up & down letting her know i’d be okay.

The ride back to Jon’s house was quiet at first nothing but low 90s R&B playing. But he eventually turned the music off. He grabbed my hand while holding the steering with his other and apologized for his actions within the last week. My eyes filled up to the brim before a tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t even respond. I just held onto his hand, he bought my hand up to his mouth still holding it kissing it ever so gently. This is the soft, caring Jon i feel in love with. For a quick second he looked at me our eyes staring into one another. Until he turned his eyes back to the road.

This is going to be a great night.

[notjustjavierpena]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT Husband Javier and the reader are fighting the whole day but trying to repress it because of their kids- After they're asleep the two are arguing again and then boom makeup sex 😋 thank you angel !!!!

Fight

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This request literally had me up all night, and now it has come to life and possibly turned into one of the most sensual pieces I’ve ever written. I’m obsessed with them. 

Summary: You feel overlooked and unappreciated. Javier says the wrong thing and hell breaks loose, but he also knows how to say sorry. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (mdni!), domestic life and dynamic, grownups being assholes to each other, hurt/comfort, saying sorry to each other and to your kids because I’m healing my inner child, crying, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, passionate and rough sex, MAKEUP SEX!!!, clit stim, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, love love love, they are just crazy about each other 

Word count: 4.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49596877

Fight

Chucho Peña is coming over tomorrow and that’s fine. 

You’ve made plans to make plans at this point though. The list of things you need to do before he arrives still gets longer every time you have a moment to think about it to yourself, teeny tiny details adding up to a day that’ll keep you busy from the moment you wake up. It would have been fine if you didn’t have to get the kids out of bed and prepared for school, and then go to work too, right on top of cleaning, shopping, cooking, and hosting — at 34 weeks pregnant.

Javier is Javier about it, reassuring you that it will be fine and that you just need to take a breath whilst he stands in the door to the garden, back towards you and smoking his morning cigarette whilst you try to tell Inés that she should have cornflakes instead of lucky charms for breakfast. 

“Oh,” Javier says after stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray that Lucas has made for him in arts and crafts class. He turns around and rests against the doorframe, “Can we have that chocolate cake you made last time? The one with the white chocolate frosting?”

You never personally thought that you’d ever get into an argument about chocolate cake. If you’d said this to the child version of yourself, she would have laughed out loud and told you that nobody could ever be angry about anything to do with dessert. Especially not chocolate desserts. Yet here you are, letting your fatigue get the better of you.

“Sure,” you let out a loud sigh, dragging it out to really let your husband know that you are not happy about his input, “Sure, Javi, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of things I need to do for your father.”

You hear it as soon as it leaves your mouth but you’re too stubborn to backtrack, watching Javier go rigid in the door. He furrows his brow in confusion, and then his expression turns into a frown and eventually a scowl. He doesn’t look downright angry but not happy either. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks defensively, body language telling you that he is getting ready for another attack. He enters the kitchen like he is walking on eggshells, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I only asked you if we could. You have every right to say no, and not be pi—“

Inés looks up at him with big brown eyes that are similar to his own. He swallows down the word, replaces it with something more child-friendly, “And not be rude about it.”

“Say no and watch you be a giant toddler about it? Great, I’ll definitely choose that,” you scoff, running on autopilot and clearing the kitchen counter whilst you argue. Out of the corner, you see Inés starting to squirm in her seat but you’re too far gone by now, “It’s not even my father, and I have to do everything for the preparation because you’re oh-so-important.”

“So we’re just never having my dad over ever again?” Javier seethes, mouth twitching in anger and threatening to put on a violent smile. He has some kind of ability to piss you even more off when he is just about to smile during arguments. 

“That’s not what I said, and that’s not the point,” you stubbornly bend down, hand on your round belly, to put your own plate into the dishwasher. Sebastian is due soon, kicking you as your pulse rises due to anger. Javier looks like he is contemplating whether to help you straighten again or not. 

“Then what is the point?”

With a hand on the edge of the kitchen counter, you manage to stand upright once more. You face Javier, finally scowling right back at him and he seems to shrink a little underneath your fury, “I’m exhausted, Javier. When do you think I have had a night to myself? I know you have a busy schedule, I do, but God—“

You drag the last word out, running a hand through your hair in frustration, “But you went out with Steve just days ago. I need to cook, clean, do the grocery shopping, take care of two kids, and - by the way - do it all with someone kicking my bladder every goddamn minute of the day. Which - by the way - is your doing.”

There is no reason to sound as venomous as you do, but you suspect that half of it is exhaustion and the other half is hormones getting the better of you and ridding you of better judgment. 

“Fine, you win,” Javier makes a display of holding his hands up in surrender but he mixes it with a roll of his eyes, and you almost go for his throat, “I’m a terrible husband.”

“Oh, you did not ju—“ You raise your voice.

Suddenly, you hear sniffling beside you. It pulls you right out of your head and makes you observe your surroundings, and with the way that Javier flinches, it seems to be doing the same to him. 

Inés' little voice breaks your heart, the sight of her even more so when you see she has covered her ears with her hands, “Mamá. Why are you yelling at Papá? Don’t you like each other anymore?”

Javier sends you a look that makes your stomach drop, something that tells you that you are not done here. He looks absolutely furious with you, especially after seeing his daughter cry.

But then he sucks in a deep breath and crosses the room to crouch down beside Inés. He rubs her back soothingly, “Nos gustamos mucho, mija.”

Your legs have made you join them before your brain can even get the idea. Ever so gently, you run your hand over Inés' hair, “I’m so sorry, baby. We won’t shout anymore. Sometimes we get bad feelings. Remember when we talked about those?”

Javier looks at you with his mouth still a thin line and you glare back at him without Inés seeing. He straightens to get a piece of paper towel, first dabbing his daughter’s eyes and then blowing her nose afterward. 

Lucas Peña peeks into the kitchen from the hallway. He looks like someone who has just woken up, hair sticking out in the same way that his father’s sometimes does, but it’s accompanied by a concerned expression on his face as he watches the scene in the kitchen, “Why were you fighting?”

“We weren’t fighting,” you reassure and hold out your arm. Lucas goes to press into your side, and you respond to his affection by resting a hand on his head, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Lucas replies but he doesn’t sound convinced. 

From the outside, it probably looks like the perfect family portrait but you can feel Javier is fuming underneath the surface. He leaves Inés’ side to throw the snotty paper towel out, his shoulders still tense.

“Lucas, can you take your sister into the bathroom and brush your teeth?” You say as neutrally as you can muster, faking a smile down at him as he looks up at you, “I’ll be right there.”

“What about breakfast?” He asks.

“I’ll make you a sandwich for the bus ride. Whatever you want, but we’re already late,” you tell him, and it seems to work as he takes Inés’ hand in his own and leads her out of the room.

When Javier and you are alone again, an uncomfortable silence settles between the two of you. Javier stands against the counter, palms flat on its surface and you can hear the sound of the clock in the background, ticking by as the silence stretches. 

You are just about to apologize when Javier turns around. His eyes are wild with fury, not at all as submissive as just moments earlier when you had been the angry one. He points at you, mustache twitching with disgust that you are sure must be directed at himself too, because he says, “Never in front of the kids. I don’t care how angry you are. We don’t do that.”

You can feel your bottom lip tremble. 

Javier leaves the kitchen instead of comforting you. 

You force a smile, trying your hardest to sound cheerful while tears spill down your cheeks, “Lucas, what do you want on your sandwich?” 

*

The rest of the day goes by without any resolve, and it feels like there’s a brick lying heavy on your chest and making you on the verge of tears all day. Despite this, you manage to get everything on today’s list done before dinner and yes, you buy the ingredients for the stupid chocolate cake, making an effort to ‘casually’ leave the recipe on the counter for Javier to see. It results in him emptying and refilling the dishwasher without a word. 

During your bedtime routine, Lucas looks worried. He tugs at your hand when you are just about to leave and you can see the cogs turn in his head as he strings together a sentence, “Mom… It’s okay if you and Dad were angry at each other. I just don’t like it when you cry and… and I want you to say sorry. That’s what you make me do when I get angry at you or Dad. Or Inés.”

Your heart hurts from the love that’s barely able to be contained inside of it. With every single muscle in your body being strained, you manage to bend down to hug his head close to your chest, “Mijo.”

“No, don’t be sad,” he says quickly, hugging you back. 

“I’m not, baby. These are good tears because I love you so much,” you kiss his head, “I’m so proud of being your mom, baby. You know this, right?”

Lucas pulls back and you quickly wipe your tears away. He studies your face for a second, “Y-yes, I love you too, Mom, but you need to say sorry to Dad.”

You nod, struggle a little as you try to get up and say your final goodnight. On the way out, you desperately brush more tears out of your face because looking at the photos in the hallway makes them well up in your eyes once more. 

Javier is tying the strings of his pajama pants as you enter your shared bedroom. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you strip yourself naked except for your underwear, and not even when you pull a tank top over your head that’s barely covering your pregnant belly anymore. You’re unsure of what to say to get a reaction from him. The silence screams. 

“I’m sorry,” you eventually settle for. 

Javier turns to you then. His eyes rest on you for a moment before he speaks, “I’m sorry too. I get it… wanting time to yourself. I just didn’t know that was what you needed.”

He is hugging you soon after, strong arms around your exhausted frame. Your round stomach bumps against his flat one, and he lets go with one arm in favor of resting a hand where Sebastian usually kicks during the evening hours. It’s thankfully quiet right now, as if he senses that you need it.

“I wish you could just see how much invisible work I put into this house,” you say softly into his shoulder, “I feel so underappreciated and overwhelmed sometimes.”

“And I wish you would tell me how you’re feeling instead of treating me like a damn mind reader,” he sighs deeply, and you respond by getting defensive again. You’re just about to pull away with an annoyed groan. 

“No, no, c’mere,” he tugs you back into his arms and you let him because you’re feeling generous. His hands cradle your face, “I don’t wanna fight. Please. I hate fighting with you. I’m sorry.” 

“You make me so furious,” you whine as he bumps your nose with his own, feeling tears prickle at the corner of your eyes and one sliding down to drip from your chin. Javier tuts, catches it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, baby,” his mouth curls downward as he says it, puppy dog eyes on their highest setting, “I know how much you do. I do. I’m just— you know how I am. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Javier embraces you once more as you blink tears away, dragging in a deep breath. The air in the bedroom smells like him, comforting and safe, and it makes it hard to keep concentrating on your fight and easier to fall into him. 

“I love you,” you mumble into his shoulder, and holy fuck, you do - every single day, hour, minute and second. He is your best friend, your husband, the face of your children, and most importantly, you know that he does his best for you.

It seems that those three words are exactly what he wants to hear because you feel his hands curl around the hem of your tank top. You don’t protest, relishing in the gentle touch of his fingertips against your back as he pulls the piece of clothing up and over your head. 

Your shoulders come down to relax from having been tensed up. You haven’t even noticed how much energy you have been using on straining your muscles, but now that you are calming again, you can feel how upset you’ve actually been throughout the day. 

“I love you too,” he promises. Your heart drums in your chest. The way he says it makes arousal burn below your belly button, a gentle tingling, and swirling sensation pleasantly taking over your whole pelvic floor. 

You look down between the two of you to see that Javier is already half-hard in his pajama pants, words seemingly having had the very same effect on him too. You start untying the strings of his pants slowly until you can tug them down over his hips, and he mirrors you to remove your underwear. 

Both of your bottoms pool around your feet, and when you have both stepped out of them, Javier pulls you close by your elbows. He catches your mouth in a desperate kiss, and you melt into him in a way that an apology could never make him feel. 

He pushes you back towards the bed whilst never breaking the searing kiss. Your hair is a mess in his hands, heartbeat speeding up as everything moves so fast from then on out; he helps you down onto the bed like the gentleman he is, manhandles you onto your side like the man you were swept off your feet by years ago and finally presses his front up against your back.  

“I want you,” you say in unison, and it makes you giggle at how in sync you are with each other despite having spent the day fighting over something already long forgotten. Especially when his arm scoops underneath you to cage you against his chest, hand tightening around your shoulder to hold you in place. 

Javier leans over you slightly to kiss the giggles away, bends your knees a little with his free hand so he can let it wander over you. He touches you up along your thigh as you place a pillow under your pregnant belly, takes his time holding you tightly, “Get hotter and hotter every day, mi amor.”

You press your ass back into his crotch, cunt throbbing with impatience as you hear the tiny groan that he lets out. He is so hard against the roundness of your behind, cocktip leaking steadily against your warm skin when he grinds right back into you. 

“Put it in,” you plead softly. Your hands come up to grip his forearm that is secured just above your tits, “Javi, please. I need it so bad.”

He is silent behind you as he works. The anticipation is unbearable when it is mixed with the unnerving need to have an outlet for all the intense emotions that you have just been through, your pussy quivering in desperation to be deliciously stretched out to transform your feelings into something physical. 

Suddenly, you feel the thick head of his cock between your thighs and you ready yourself for intrusion. Luckily, he doesn’t make you wait, guides himself into you in a slow motion until he is fully sheathed inside you. 

“Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can, nails digging his arm from how hard you are gripping it.

“I know, ahh fuck, shhh,” he soothes but the way his voice sounds makes you believe that he is just as close to losing his mind, “Be quiet, baby. Just let me make you feel fucking amazing. Need a pillow between your knees too?”

You nod, and he is right there with his own pillow to help you get even more comfortable in bed with him. God, why were you even fighting? Something about cake? Either way, it seems beyond ridiculous. 

His nose is in your neck, his hand travels up to cup your breast and then he moves his body for a very first thrust inside of you. It makes your eyes nearly roll back into your skull when he keeps the pace lazy and deep, barely pulling out with each roll of his hips. 

“You feel so good,” he praises whilst mouthing along the most sensitive spot on your neck, “Makes me never wanna leave. Wanna live here.”

“Inside me?” You chuckle breathlessly. 

“Forever,” he gives you a slightly harder thrust, the first where the noise of his skin slapping against yours resonates through the bedroom. You moan in surprise, and he hushes you once more, “Don’t let them wake up and think momma is in pain.”

“Definitely not in pain.”

Javier lets out the quietest laugh. It’s almost unfair how good he is at keeping it down compared to you, but you don’t think you’ll mind having his big palm cover your mouth if you end up causing trouble. It almost happens when he pinches an overly sensitive nipple, making it harden immediately under his touch. 

“Help me spread my legs a little more,” you beg at a low decibel. 

The hand on your tit gropes obscenely and shakes for a moment before it slips down and caresses your belly on the way. Still lying on your side, he smacks the fleshiest part of where your ass and thigh meet before he cups the back of your knee so he can lift.

The move gives you the access you need to rub your cunt, two fingers going in taut little circles around the swollen nub. You rock with him too, and it goes on until you come with your back arched, releasing a short and hot breath that you didn’t notice you had been holding until it turns into a loud and accidental moan. 

“That’s my girl,” he moans too as you clench rhythmically and choke his dick when you release the built-up tension. When your orgasm reaches its peak, Javier’s hand on your shoulder moves to cover your mouth at the fear of you making enough noise to have the door burst open with unwelcome visitors, “I know it’s hard, mi vida, but - shit - but be quiet.”

You take the opportunity to let out a drawn-out and helpless cry into his hand as the sweet pleasure goes on for a few moments more. Then you slump, and he gently moves your leg down again to put less strain on your body. 

“My God,” he talks into your ear, thrusts never slowing down and you swear that you can feel his cock jump with every weak noise you make, “I love you so much. Love your little cunt too, she takes me so well.”

Javier’s hand comes down to grip the extra pounds on your hips. He tugs at the flesh almost painfully, but your exhaustion and dopamine overload are making you too delirious to notice that it’s to the point of bruising. He holds tight and uses the grasp that he has on you to pull you down onto his cock over and over. 

It takes no time to make a second orgasm stir in the pits of your stomach. Your moans change once more as your body starts responding to him fucking you so hard. 

“You think you can come again?” He rasps into your ear, and when the head of his cock slides teasingly over your favorite little spot inside of yourself, you nod frantically and it feels like you are about to cry actual tears. Fuck yes, you can come as many times as he wants. 

“Mhm, won’t take long,” you whimper and use all your willpower to lift your leg over your husband’s thigh until you are spread widely. Your belly is still comfortably supported in the new position, but now that your front is stretched taut and fully exposed like a well-trained and submissive animal, it enhances the feeling of Javier gliding over your g-spot repeatedly.

Javier removes the arm that he has caged you in with, but whereas it gives you a moment to heave a breath of air into the very bottom of your lungs, he quickly takes it away from you as he reaches up with his other hand to grab your throat. He doesn’t squeeze like he normally would when you are not pregnant, but the anticipation of him doing it makes your head swim. 

And then he is absolutely brutal in his thrusts, and before you know it, you are coming with your clit untouched and a strangled sob. The convulsions are so intense that your thighs shake, your toes curl and your eyes screw shut. 

You reach up to put your hand on the back of Javier’s head, holding on tightly as he pounds into you from behind throughout your orgasm. The way he pants tells you that he is close, and when you yank the tiny curls at the nape of his neck, he starts to chase his release. 

“Javi,” you whisper loudly as he slams into your sensitive cunt, “Give it to me. Pleasepleaseplease. Need you to fill me up.”

“Fu— oh shit,” Javier swears in a low, rough growl as he snaps his hips a few last times before stilling inside of you. He feels impossibly big inside your cunt as he pumps you full of his come, cockhead resting at your cervix and coating you in warmth. 

“Jesus, we’re terrible at being quiet,” you whisper as he pants. You let your leg come down onto the other once again, a giggle suddenly building up in your chest. He starts laughing whilst still inside of you, hugging you tightly into his chest and nuzzling his nose into your cheek.

“They sleep through it, don’t gotta worry about it much anymore, I think,” he notes without care, kissing your cheek repeatedly despite still not having calmed his breath. You smile widely as you stare at the ceiling, overtaken by the love you feel for him every time he gets you to post-orgasmic bliss. 

“We need a date night soon though, Jesus. Perhaps Pop could take the kids home with him tomorrow after dinner and I could… do this again,” he smacks your ass playfully, then strokes your hip in soothing circles, and you almost purr like a cat at the gentle move, “Without a mute button on my pretty wife’s mouth, of course.”

“I’d like that,” you say with a soft and sweet sigh, acknowledging his attempt to make things from earlier up to you, “Been a while since you’ve made me scream. Wanna take our time.” 

Javier reaches down between you to pull out before he is completely soft. You hiss at being left empty when you are so spent, but Javier quickly distracts you with another string of kisses to your cheek and the corner of your mouth. He adds to the fantasy, “And then I’ll draw you a bath and you can spend as much time alone as you want. Don’t gotta be no one to anyone.” 

He moves on the bed as far as his arm that’s trapped beneath you allows him, going for the packet of wet wipes you keep on the nightstand. He had suggested them when it had become too hard during your third trimester for you to get out of bed after sex. He hands you a few and you hold them over your mound, enjoying the coolness of them.

“You know the way to my heart,” you say, wiggling a little and feeling his come seep out. It makes your nose crinkle.

“Well, I did convince you to marry me,” he replies. 

“Worst decision I’ve ever made,” you tease. Javier wraps his other arm around you, hand splayed on your belly. 

The position you are in is uncomfortable; Javier’s arm underneath you has got to be asleep by now and you feel damp with sweat due to him being like a furnace against your back.

Still, you both drift off slowly into the soundest sleep. You don’t wake up until two unexpected visitors barge in at the most ungodly hours of the morning, causing you to scramble for the blanket to cover your bodies up and hide the come-stained wet wipes in the nightstand drawer.

.

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[i2rizz]

A Day Off

Fandom: Bungou stray dogs | masterlist

Characters: Chuuya x Reader

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Chuuya Nakahara rarely got days off. Being one of the Port Mafia’s Executives didn’t exactly allow for casual breaks. So when Mori “insisted” he take a day to himself, Chuuya took it as less of a suggestion and more of a punishment.

He was still grumbling about it when he stormed out of the office, his hat tilted low and his coat billowing behind him. That’s when he saw you, leaning casually against the wall, scrolling through your phone.

“Finally,” you teased, slipping your phone into your pocket. “I thought I was going to have to drag you out of there myself.”

Chuuya’s scowl softened as his sharp blue eyes met yours. “Mori’s on my case,” he muttered, running a hand through his tousled orange hair. “Apparently, I’m ‘too stressed.’ Can you believe that crap?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a smirk, stepping closer to straighten the brim of his hat. “And I’m glad he did. I’ve been trying to get you to take a break for weeks.”

Chuuya scoffed but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, princess. What’s the plan?”

“Anything but mafia business,” you said, looping your arm through his. “Deal?”

“Deal,” he said with a sigh. “But this better be good.”

Your first stop was a small café tucked away in a quiet corner of Yokohama. Chuuya, true to form, insisted on ordering the most extravagant dish on the menu—poached eggs with truffle oil and smoked salmon—while you opted for something simpler.

“Why do you always pick the fanciest thing on the menu?” you teased as he took a sip of his coffee.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with an air of smugness. “Because I have taste, babe. You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. Moments like this reminded you of the Chuuya beneath the mafia persona—the man who could charm anyone with a grin and an offhand remark.

As the morning passed, the two of you wandered through the nearby streets, popping into boutique shops and browsing art galleries. Chuuya had a habit of pointing out pieces that reminded him of you, though his taste tended toward the bold and dramatic.

“This one’s got your fire,” he said, nodding to a painting of a crimson sunset over a stormy sea.

“And what about that one?” you asked, gesturing to a serene watercolor of a quiet lake.

He smirked. “That’s definitely not you. Too boring.”

You swatted his arm, laughing as he pretended to shield himself.

The peaceful vibe of the day was shattered as you walked along the pier, the salty breeze ruffling your hair. Chuuya’s posture suddenly stiffened, his hand instinctively moving to rest on the small of your back.

“Chuuya?” you asked, following his gaze.

“Stay close,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

A group of men emerged from the shadows, their faces twisted with smug confidence. You recognized the emblem on their jackets—rivals of the Port Mafia.

“Well, well,” the leader drawled, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Look who’s taking a little vacation. Didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to walk around without backup, Nakahara.”

Chuuya’s laugh was sharp and cold. “Backup? For you? Don’t make me laugh.”

The men lunged, and chaos erupted.

Chuuya’s ability, For the Tainted Sorrow, flared to life, the air around him shimmering with power. One by one, the attackers were lifted off their feet, slammed into walls, or sent sprawling into the ocean with bone-crushing force.

You weren’t one to stand idly by. When one of the men managed to break through Chuuya’s defenses and charge at you, you ducked under his swing and jabbed your elbow into his ribs, making him stagger.

Chuuya glanced over his shoulder, a feral grin spreading across his face. “That’s my girl.”

The fight ended as quickly as it began, the thugs groaning on the ground or scrambling to escape. Chuuya dusted off his hands, his expression one of pure disdain.

“Idiots,” he muttered, turning back to you. “You okay?”

“Better than they are,” you quipped, earning a soft chuckle from him.

After the encounter, Chuuya insisted on taking you to his favorite rooftop bar, claiming you both deserved a drink after the “exercise.”

The view was breathtaking, the city lights stretching out below like a sea of stars. Chuuya ordered a bottle of his favorite wine, pouring you a glass with a flourish.

“To my so called "day off",” he said, raising his glass with a smirk.

“And to you finally learning how to relax,” you replied, clinking your glass against his.

Chuuya leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy today. But... you always make things better, doll.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you simply stared at him, your heart swelling with affection.

“You mean that?” you asked softly.

“Of course I do,” he said, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane in this mess of a world.”

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of soft laughter, stolen glances, and quiet moments of contentment. As the night deepened, Chuuya pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you as the city buzzed far below.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair.

“For what?”

“For being the best part of my life,” he said simply, his voice low and sincere.

And in that moment, with the world far below and Chuuya’s warmth surrounding you, everything felt perfect.

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"That's my girl" IM GOING FERALL

[ruewrote]

𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒.

PAIRING: sam giddings x fem!reader WARNINGS: anxiety, paranoia, no use of y/n GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: bad things by cults WORD COUNT: 928

navigation | ask | sam giddings masterlist

it had been months since the night at the lodge, but the weight of it still clung to sam like a second skin. every day was a battle to convince herself that she was safe, that the wendigos and the horrors they had once unleashed were now gone. 

the mountains loomed in the distance, casting long shadows across her new life. no matter how much she tried, no matter what she did, she couldn’t shake the memories of those cold, unforgiving peaks.

but you were there, always, just a phone call away.

sam had always been the strong one, the glue that held everyone together. she’d been the voice of reason in the chaos, the one who made it through when everything else fell apart. yet even the strongest need someone to lean on. and lately, that person was you.

she didn’t know when it started. when your presence became a quiet comfort in her life, but now she couldn’t imagine being without you. whether it was the little texts that made her laugh or the nights where you just sat together in silence, your warmth made the memories of the lodge feel a little less sharp, the weight of it a little less heavy.

today was a bad day. sam stood by the window, staring out into the city streets. the quiet in her apartment making her feel awfully closed in.

her phone buzzed on the counter, your name lighting up the screen, finding herself smiling despite it all.

“hey, just checking in. want to come over? i’ve got tea and a shoulder with your name on it.”

she hesitated for a second, debating whether she should burden you with her haunted mind yet again, but the thought of seeing you, feeling your arms around her, was too tempting to resist. she grabbed her keys and replied with a quick, “be right over.”

when sam arrived at your place, you could see the tension written all over her face. she tried to hide it, she always did. but you knew her too well by now. wordlessly, you opened the door wider, offering her a soft smile as she stepped inside.

she hadn’t said much in the texts, you didn’t need her to. the way she exhaled when she entered, her shoulders relaxing slightly, told you enough.

“rough day?” you asked gently, leading her to the couch where a steaming cup of chamomile tea awaited her.

“yeah,” sam murmured, taking the mug and wrapping her hands around it. she didn’t drink it right away, just held it, as if grounding herself in the warmth.

you sat down beside her, close enough that your knee brushed hers. the small touch was another comfort to her, one she didn’t realize she needed until she felt it. there was something in your presence that made the world seem a lot less overwhelming.

“you don’t have to talk about it,” you said, resting your hand on hers. “but you know i'm here if you do.”

sam looked at you, her eyes softening in a way they hadn’t in a long time. she set the mug down, shifting so she could face you fully. the vulnerability in her eyes was raw, but there was trust there too, trust that had grown over the weeks, piece by piece, in the tender moments you shared.

“it’s just… some days, it’s like i can still feel it,” she admitted, her voice low. “like i’m still there, in the lodge, fighting for my life.”

you nodded, giving her space to continue.

“everyone’s moved on, you know? chris, ashley, they’re all trying to forget, and i get it. i do. but… i can’t. it’s still there, in the back of my mind. the cold, the fear, everything we went through. i just can’t shut it off like they can.”

without a word, you reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “you don’t have to shut it off. it’s okay to feel it, sam. you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

for a moment, sam just stared at your hand in hers, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “you make it easier,” she whispered. “being with you… it makes the nightmares feel less real.”

you smiled, your heart swelling at her words. you leaned in slightly, your forehead resting against hers, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

“i’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “whatever you need, whenever you need it, i’m here.”

sam closed her eyes at the softness of your touch, her breathing steadying as your words sunk in. she didn’t feel like she was drowning under the weight of her memories. she felt seen, heard, loved.

you pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her in a gentle embrace. sam melted into you, her head resting against your shoulder as she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. the warmth of your body, the steady beat of your heart, it was the calm she needed.

“i love you,” she whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

you pressed a soft kiss to her temple, holding her a little tighter. “i love you too.”

the two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, no other words needed. in that moment, the weight of her past didn’t seem so heavy. with you, she didn’t have to be the strong one. she could be vulnerable, raw, and still feel whole.

with your love, 

she’d find a way to heal.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[hogtiedwhorestories]

Written by @lockemeup

Dave’s hand came off my mouth, but he held my arms tight. “What the fuck is going on here?” I tried to muster all the defiance I could, even though I was scared shitless. Before the man answered me, I heard metal clink, and then felt Dave close handcuffs around my wrists.

“I’m glad you asked, whore. You see, Lily here is my bondage slave. I kidnapped her over a year ago, and I’ve trained her very well. Although it took nearly three months of a carefully regimented punishment and reward system to ensure she would remain totally obedient to me.” The man walked back over to Lily as he explained, caressing her nylon-clad ass, which caused her to moan.

“An important part of her training since the beginning has been in orgasm denial. At first, it was just a week between orgasms so that her mind wouldn’t snap right away. But soon, I started increasing her denial period to two weeks, then three, then a month. As of today however, it has been 300 days since my little slut has been allowed to cum. And every day, she receives heavy bondage, teasing and edging, which drives her absolutely mad.”

As the man described Lily’s predicament, his hands tenderly explored her body, fingers probing the folds of her cunt through the tights. My eyes grew wider and wider, while hers rolled back into her head. She kicked her feet, and desperate moans escaped from behind the ballgag.

“You’re insane!” I cried out. “Please, you have to let her go.”

“Oh, I think not. Even if she weren’t fully obedient, why would I let this delicious piece of ass go?” The man turned back to me, and nodded to Dave, who was still standing behind me. Suddenly, he pulled my hair back, forcing my mouth open, then stuffed another ballgag into my mouth before strapping it in tight. I tried to plead with the men, but knew that they were not the type to show mercy.

“As for you, I’ve made a deal with my slave here. Her cunt has been particularly achy of late, and she’s been begging me to cum harder than usual. So, I said that if she could bring me a new slave by today, she would be allowed to cum. You meeting her in that bar was no chance encounter. She picked you from all the other women that night, and has been fighting her base instincts ever since. Knowing that, by bringing you here, she would be consigning you to the same existence she’s been forced to suffer. But of course, if she didn’t bring you, she risked never having another orgasm again.”

By this point, I was mewling into my gag and frantically pulling at my cuffs, not wanting to be turned into a bondage slave by this madman. While I at first felt pity for Lily being treated like this, I began to get angry at her for getting me into this situation. Seeing that I was on the verge of trying something stupid, Dave grabbed me by the arms and guided me towards a heavy wooden chair. Protruding from the center of it was a rubber bulb, and straps were built into the back, legs and arms.

The man ripped my top and my skirt off, leaving me in my lingerie and boots. Dave undid my cuffs, and the two of them forced me into the chair, quickly pulling the straps tight over my limbs and torso. In less than a minute, I was completely helpless. With dread, I noticed the rubber bulb was positioned snugly against my pussy.

Lily was dangling directly in front of me. “Now, you’re going to watch as my slave gets what she’s been wanting for almost a year. And while that happens, you’ll get your first taste of what orgasm denial is like, slut.” The rubber bulb sprang to life between my legs. It buzzed right up against my clit with a low hum. Despite the fear that was consuming me, I groaned at the wave of warmth that quickly radiated throughout my body.

Over the next hour or so, the man proceeded to edge and tease Lily until she was bucking and shrieking like a banshee, while my fear was slowly replaced by horniness. Dave stood off to the side, stroking his own cock at the sight of the two of us struggling in bondage, protesting into our gags.

“I think it’s time for you to cum, my pet.” I didn’t think Lily could get any wilder, but as her owner – our owner now, I suppose – shoved the vibrator deep between her legs, she let out an inhuman scream that shook me to my core. Her whole body shuddered and jerked. I could almost feel her orgasm in my own throbbing cunt.

“ANK OO ASER!!!” She screamed what I interpreted as “Thank you, Master” from behind her ballgag.

“Don’t thank me yet, slave. You wanted to orgasm so bad, well, now you���re going to spend the next 30 minutes orgasming non-stop.” He wedged the vibrator in place, then wrapped a leather strap around her thighs to hold it in place. A leather hood went over her shaking head, plunging her pleading eyes into darkness.

Then, he turned to me. “I’ll be back in a bit, slut. Let this be your first lesson of many.” Dave followed the man out of the room, and the doors locked behind them.

As I watched Lily quickly brought to her second orgasm, the vibrator between my own legs working me up into a frenzy, I heard a little voice in the back of my head whisper, “hey, maybe this won’t be so bad.”

[cypherthesuccubus]

Dirty Little Secret

Alastor x Lucifer/ RadioApple -Part 13- (NSFW) (MDNI)

Warnings: 18+, smut, slow burn, eventual smut, cock worship, glory hole, enemies to lovers, murder, blood kink, bondage, tentacles, marking, breeding kink, size kink, S&M, Dom/Sub, switch, facial

Other Tags: Fluff and Angst

Aftercare forever!!✨

Part 13 is coming at you!!! I can’t apologize enough for the long absence. So much has been happening in my life, but you I haven’t forgotten this story 🥰✨ We definitely left off on some more chemistry in the making between them. What’s gonna happen next? Well let’s find out~ 😏🤭✨

A few weeks has passed and things have remained the same; according to Charlie’s mind. Though the only difference now is that every time Lucifer go to his meetings, Alastor then excuses himself a few minutes after. He claims that since the increase of guests, he has more paperwork to do along with more broadcasts to make as well. “He must have a lot on his plate. I should give Alastor a much needed break soon.” Charlie thinks as she helps Nifty and Angel Dust clean up the dinner table.

Last night it was Husker’s turn to help with after dinner chores, now it’s Angel’s turn. As Nifty starts on the dishes, Angel and Charlie wipe down the table together, until the silence is broken. “So Charlie~….I’ve been noticing that creepy smiles has been calling it early here lately. Do you know the reason?~” He rests one of his elbows on the table and props his cheek against his palm. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as Charlie chuckles at the question. “Oh, he’s been getting swamped with extra work with all these new guests we’ve been getting is all.”

“Oh I bet.~ I bet that work completely bends him over and vice versa.~” Angel says as he playfully arches his back; wiggling his ass slightly and smacks it. Charlie adverts her eyes as she chuckles nervously from his gestures. “I guess so in layman’s terms haha…but why do you say it like that, Angel?” He laughs as he stands up, pulling out a nail file to perfect his manicure. “Come on, we don’t have that many guests here Charlie. I think Mr. creepy smiles is hiding something.~” Charlie raises her eyebrow towards the statement. What did he mean by that? Alastor is a big mystery yes, but he wouldn’t lie about work with the hotel…right?

“He wouldn’t lie about doing hotel work, Angel. When it comes to the hotel he always is on top of things.” Charlie rubs the back of her neck nervously; hoping that Angel was just pulling her leg. “Oh I bet he’s on top and switches too.~” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he gives her a playful wink. She looks at him confused by is metaphors. Why is he saying things like that? “What do you mean by that, Angel?” Charlie asks, crossing her arms as she arches her brow. “I honestly shouldn’t say, it would be an invasion of privacy if I did…but I can give you a slight hint if want.~” Charlie sighs as she rolls her eyes smiling , turning her ear to Angel as he leans down to whisper.

“Just head upstairs and check on your dad…you will figure out the rest.~” He stands back up; giving another wink as he pulls out his phone, walking away. Charlie starts to be concerned. What is going on with her dad that involves Alastor? All she can hope for is that they are not fighting again. The last thing she needs is to fix missing walls and destroyed bedrooms. Now that she thinks about it, there are times when she will pass her dad’s door and nifty would come out with broken pieces of wooden furniture, torn sheets, torn drapes, torn rug, and pillows. They must be fighting and trying to keep it a minimum for her sake, but she can’t have anything keep being destroyed on account on her dad and Alastor fighting.

Meanwhile, the sound of shifting fabric against silk sheets; paired with heavy breathing and soft moans fill the dim room. Lucifer is laying on top of Alastor, both completely naked as they grip each others hair roughly; deeply kissing each other hot and heavy like. Their tongues wrap around each other in a heated dance for dominance; grinding their throbbing cocks against each other until the other caves in. Lucifer breaks the heated kiss as he looks into Alastor’s glossy, ruby red eyes; his breath shaky and needy. “Have I convinced you enough yet, my big strong buck?~” Lucifer then grinds against Alastor once more; drawing out a needy moan from the almighty radio demon. “Or do you need more convincing?~”

He continues to grind against Alastor; the feeling of the radio demon’s soft belly fur along with the heat of his shaft against Lucifer’s aching cock; further drove him mad with pleasure and wanting more by the second. “I need an answer, bambi.~” Lucifer leans close to Alastor’s ear and whispers seductively. “Do you want me to completely ravage you?~” Alastor bites his lip; struggling to swallow his pride in admitting that he needed to feel the king of hell. To feel every inch inside him; claiming him body and soul. “Come on.~ Be a good boy for me, Al.~” Lucifer leans down and takes a long lick against Alastor’s neck; soon latching onto the sensitive skin, giving him the first love bite of many more to come.

Alastor lets out a surprised moan; arching against Lucifer as he can’t take it anymore, finally letting go. “Y-yes, Lucifer.~ Please~….I n-need you.~” Lucifer chuckles softly as he lets go of his neck; trailing kisses down Alastor’s chest, stomach, and just stopping right above his happy trail. Lucifer move his hands under the radio demon’s thighs; grabbing them firmly to lift them up to where his knees touch his fluffy chest. “Such a good boy for me.~ Keep your legs up just like that.~” Lucifer slithers his long snake tongue out his mouth, slowly grazing the pronged tip against Alastor’s tight entrance. A sensual moan escapes the radio demon’s lips, as he feels the king’s long tongue slither inside him. The feeling of the warm snake tongue twist, turn, and brush against his inner walls and sensitive prostate.

Alastor’s legs start to tremble from the immense pleasure, as he covers his mouth to hold back the sounds that want to escape his throat. Lucifer chuckles as he plunges his tongue deeper, sliding one of his hands to grip the base of Alastor’s thick, pulsing cock. Alastor lets out a muffled moan as he arches into Lucifer, wanting more with every thrust of the king’s tongue. His majesty soon slides his long tongue out from Alastor with a slick pop; staring up at the squirming buck. “Holding back are we?~ That just won’t do.~” Lucifer then gets up on his knees, lining his girthy cock with Alastor’s needy entrance. He then snaps his fingers as a tube of lube appears next to him; opening it to generously apply it to his hard length.

“Since you’re holding back, I’m going to have to do more….“through” coaxing.~” Lucifer smirks as he slowly inserts the tip, slowly pushing further and further until he fully bottomed out inside Alastor. The moment the king’s pelvis hits his beautiful buck’s plush rear; Alastor lets go of his mouth as he moans out loudly. “AHHH! F-FUCK!~” Lucifer chuckles darkly as he begins to fuck the radio demon slow and hard; gripping his hips so he can angle to hit deeper inside. His majesty felt accomplished that he was able to get the almighty radio demon to writhe in pleasure underneath him. If Lucifer didn’t have an inflated ego, he definitely has one now thanks to Alastor. Who would have thought the radio demon was just as good as a bottom as he is top.~

The more Alastor moaned for Lucifer, the harder and faster his majesty went; pounding deeper and deeper until his big handsome buck goes completely cock drunk. “Ooh fuck!~ You’re doing so good for me, Alastor!~ You’re squeezing me so tight!~ You’re getting close aren’t ya?~” Lucifer smirks as he really grinds into Alastor; drawing a needy moan from his beautiful buck. “Y-YES!!!~ PLEASE LUCIFER!!!~ I-I NEED TO…TO C-CUUUM!!!~” Lucifer then quickly locks their lips together in a heated passion as his thrusts assault Alastor’s insides. Both of them wrapping their arms around each other; keeping their bodies as close together as possible, whilst their claws dig into each others skin making bloody trails in their wake.

Before they can reach their simultaneous release; a loud knock was heard at Lucifer’s door, stopping them dead in their tracks with wide eyes. “Hey dad! Are you in there? I need to talk to you, if you’re able to.”

[les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques]

Oh god, it’s been so long since I’ve written seggs, let alone from this shit lord’s point-of-view. Nonetheless, a little snippet of the upcoming chapter from my WIP. I recently was cast in a play and it’s been eating up any free time that work, wellness, and home have managed to give me. I’m on a little streak, though, so hopefully I’ll be updating in the new couple of weeks.

—

Off came the mask, his long fingers clawing at the poor excuse for skin beneath them. Augustine once agreed to never ask him about it, and now—let us see how much a whore’s promise is worth. Let’s see what she makes of such hideous and honest need.

Honesty. How he loathed it. How it unmanned him entirely, reduced him to little more than ash.

“Leave now,” he said, digging his bare feet into the carpet, praying that he might fall through the floor. “Leave before I find a reason to make you.”

“Erik. I’m trying to understand. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Ridiculous. Almost everyone in his life meant to hurt him—or worse. Why even bother lying with kindness, if she didn’t want to hurt him? Why ask him the same agonizing question, over and over again, if she didn’t want to tear him into pieces entirely? What he wanted was as impossible as heaven, and he still foolishly ached for it all the same. As much as he wished for a life where he could simply turn around and look Augustine in the face in the face and give of himself completely.

Fuck her niceties. Fuck your hopes. You’re a monster, and she is practically offering up her cunt to you on a silver platter. Why complicate things?

Yet his thoughts remained jumbled all the same, as ravenous and boundless as the hashish made him feel; for a brief moment, he contemplated fleeing the room entirely. But the floorboards shifted again, and the soft padding sound of Augustine’s feet closing the distance between them was loud enough to pierce through his tears.

“I’m sorry.” Her breath was warm against the back of his neck; two silly little words, and yet she might as well have put a gun to his head. And trapped between her little act of contrition and the drumming of that relentless question—what do you want, Erik? What do you want—he was forced to fight his way out like the animal he was.

“What do I want? What do I want?” Erik ran his fingers one last time over his cratered face, summoning that part he tried so hard to hide from pleasant society. Another half-truth eked out, and—fuck—wouldn’t they would drown each other in such notions. “I want you to turn around, close your eyes, and take off that god-damned robe. That is what I want.”

He waited for a refusal. For cute remarks and smart words, for the answer he seemed cursed to always get: No. No. No. Perhaps for another apology, even. And weren’t all of those better than the truth he might accidentally wring out of her lovely thoat?

Instead, her only reply was the muffled descrendo of silk hitting the floor, the groan of old wood.

So be it.

—

Thanks for reading! I humbly beg for grace with regards to any typos.

[bluephoenixgirl]

The Only Exception

River Phoenix x Reader

Warnings: Some Adult Language, Angst, Fluff, Mention of Messy Divorce, Mention of Fighting, Abandonment, Mention of Sexual Activities, Daddy Issues, and Possible Grammar Errors (Sorry if I Forgot Any!!)

Summary: Growing up Y/N’s mother always told her that there is no such thing as true love and for a long time Y/N believed her mother. Well, until she met a blonde haired boy named River Phoenix.

Song Inspiration: The Only Exception by Paramore

Word Count: 1,451

Author’s Note: This is my first River Phoenix story. I know there aren’t a lot of River Phoenix stories on here and some people wanted me to write for him so I finally did! I’ve been wanting to write a story based off this song forever since it’s been one of my favorite songs ever since I was a little girl so I definitely suggest listening to the song before reading! I hope you all enjoy!🩵

Y/N is from a small town in Ohio but moved to California after she turned eighteen and has now lived there for almost two years. The reason why Y/N left Ohio was because of the bad memories that were made there. Y/N doesn’t just come from a single broken home, she comes from two broken homes.

When Y/N was just four years old her parents split up from a marriage that wasn’t filled with love. The only reason why her parents got married was because her mom got pregnant with her. Y/N would constantly hear her parents yell and scream at one another. Sometimes she would hear glass and furniture slamming against the walls and shattering.

When they finally divorced Y/N thought things would get better but they didn’t. In the beginning of the divorce Y/N lived with both of her parents separately. One week she would be living with her mom and then the next week with her dad but that didn’t last long. When she turned ten her father remarried and started another family. He wanted nothing to do with her or her mother. He just cared for his new wife and kids.

Y/N’s mother never remarried because of the heartbreak Y/N’s fathers caused not just her but Y/N as well. As Y/N grew up her mom would always tell to never fall in love because love doesn’t exist. All love does is crush you into a million pieces and most of Y/N’s life she believed what her mother said to her was true. There is no such thing as true love.

Well, she thought that until she met the one and only River Phoenix.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was an early Friday morning and Y/N just started her shift at the 50’s style diner she works at. As she was cleaning off the counter she would glance up at the glass doors from time to time. “You on the look out for your boyfriend?” She heard a voice say. When Y/N looked over she saw her best friend/co worker Lori looking at her with a teasing look in her green eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Y/N told her in a stern tone. “But you want him to be your boyfriend.” Lori said to her. Y/N just stayed silent.

Yes, what Lori just said was very true but Y/N doesn’t feel like she’s ready to admit it out loud.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.” Lori told her and walked into the back where the kitchen is. Y/N let out a heavy sigh and went back to wiping down the counter.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A couple of hours passed when River finally walked through the glass doors with the same couple of friends he always comes in with. Y/N was waiting on a couple and their three children at the counter so she didn’t notice River had showed up. When she walked over to the cash register to put the money the customers gave her was when her Y/E/C eyes met River’s memorizing ones.

Y/N just shook it off and opened the cash register to put the money in it. As she waited for the receipt to print she could feel River’s strong gaze on her. That strong gaze he has always makes her feel like her heart is going to beat out of her fucking chest. That’s the effect River has on her.

“Here comes your boyfriend.” She heard Lori whisper into her ear as she walked behind her to the coffee machine. Before Y/N could say anything back at Lori she heard River say her name. There he is. The man that is making her doubt what her mother always told her.

“Sorry to bother you while you’re working but I need to talk to you about something.” River told her. “It’s okay. You could never bother me.” Y/N told him in a reassuring tone in her voice. “What do you need to talk about?” Y/N asked him with curious in her voice. “Are you and Lori doing anything tonight?” River asked her. Y/N answered his question with a shake of the head. “My guys and I are having a party on the beach tonight and we would love it for you two to come.” River told her. Before Y/N could say anything Lori appeared behind Y/N. “We’ll be there!” Lori told River with an exciting smile on her face. “Cool, party starts at seven.” River said as his lips curved into a smirk. “See you tonight.” River added and turned back around to walk back to the table where is friends are sitting.

“Lori! What the fuck was that?” Y/N said with a hiss as she looked at her with a glare in her eyes. “What? What did I do?” Lori asked with confusion in her tone. “You know how I feel about parties.” Y/N reminded her with frustration in her voice. “Y/N, this is your chance with River.” Lori told her. “I know you two are crazy about one another. Sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone to get with the boy you like.” Lori explained to her.

Y/N knew that Lori again was one hundred percent right. “Okay.” Y/N told her with a nod. “That’s my girl.” Lori said giving her a pat on the shoulder. Lori walked away back over to the coffee maker. Y/N let out a sigh as she grabbed the receipt out of the printer of the cash register.

Y/N glanced over at River. He was laughing at something on of his friends said. Y/N couldn’t help but put on a soft smile. She looked away and walked over to the family she was waiting on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Y/N arrived at the party with Lori she could feel her nerves start to pace. There is a lot more people at the party than she thought. As the night went on, Y/N would mingle around with Lori but once she started to talking to this one guy, she forgot all about Y/N.

Y/N decided to go sit down in the sand by herself a little bit away from the loud crowd of people. As she sat there she watched the waves crash on the shore line in front of her. “Hey.” She heard a familiar voice say to her. When she looked up she saw that the voice belonged to River. “Hi.” Y/N said in a soft voice. “Can I sit with you?” River asked her in a curious tone. After Y/N answered his question with a nod he bent down and sat right down next to her. Y/N could feel the butterflies in her stomach go into a frenzy.

“Where did Lori go?” River asked her. “Probably fucking with the random guy she ditched me for.” Y/N told him with annoyance as she stared out at the ocean. “Does she always ditch you to go fuck with a random guy?” River asked her which made her let out a sigh in frustration. “Pretty much. That’s why I don’t like coming to parties.” Y/N told him.

A comforting silence fell between the two as they both looked out at the beautiful blue water.

“What are you hiding from me?” River asked her breaking the silence. That question took Y/N by surprise. “What?” Y/N asked with confusion looking over at him. “I don’t know about you but I can feel something between us but when I go to make a move I feel like you shut your feelings away from me.” River explained to her looking at her with softness in his eyes. “When it comes to love, I caution myself.” Y/N told him. “May I ask why?” River asked her.

Y/N looked back out at the water. This will be the first time she’s told someone about her childhood. “Growing up, my mom always told me that love doesn’t exist and it’s just a shit show that breaks you down.” Y/N told him. “But?” River said sensing that there is more. “I recently made one exception.” Y/N told him still not looking at his strong gaze.

River used one of his hands to her chin to move her head towards him so that they were looking at each other in the eyes. “What is that exception?” River asked as his eyes locked onto hers. “You.” Y/N answered in a soft tone.

River moved his hand from her chin to one of her cheeks. Y/N leaned into his touch as his thumb gently stroked her cheek. River leaned in and connected his lips with her’s. As Y/N kissed him back she felt like she was on cloud nine.

Thanks to a boy named River, she believes that there is such a thing called true love.

[wakacreations]

Forgiveness In Our Skies

Author's Note:

My contribution for Rolan Week for Day 3. I haven't written for Rolan in awhile but I am happy with how this piece turned out.

Word Count: 798

Prompt: Fight or Forgive?

Summary:

Rolan is up late at night reflecting on his behavior through his journey to Baldur's Gate. Does he even have the right to beg to Tav and asked them for forgiveness? Would they even wish to listen?

Forgiveness can I even ask that of you as you drift peacefully next to where I lay. The moonlight spilling around your sleeping form in the expanse of my acquired sheets. Could I truly call those mine when it has been stained crimson to be obtained? You stirred as if you could sense my distress. That is a bad habit of yours, your insistent meddling. Even as you rest you can't help yourself. Never would that be good for yourself not for my sake. Not after what I’ve done to you. I raised the blanket over you. You must have been chilled to the bone on the road like I. You deserve a proper moment of respite. That is the very least I could do for you.

I spat so much unnecessary vitriol to your face through the short time I’ve known you. How you haven’t left me to wallow in my own self pity like at Last Light Inn or leave me to continue the rest of my studies and to endure my deserved “teachings” from my master, I would call you mad to go to such lengths. But now I have come to understand. I would have done the same if our roles were reversed. I would have already snapped at you like I am now long overdue from you. Could you and would you forgive me if I were to lay myself bare before you come morning. Like the paladins before their sworn liege or your wizard companion for the goddess of magic. Do you even wish to hear them spoken from such an ill tempered man? Honestly I am no man at all.

My claw reached out to tuck away a rogue lock. For what did I deem my sharpened fangs at you? The way you always followed behind me, ever asking me if I was doing alright, wishing to have a private word over some trivial conversation and at the latest of the night pointing up at the stars saying that is where I would belong. I would chastise you for calling me dead like those fading stars.

You would just shake your head profusely. There were many wizards out there but you believed I would outshine them like the ever twinkling light of distant stars. I would happily tell you “of course who wouldn’t I be but become the greatest wizard.” In the back of my mind I would call you foolish, for you to believe I could be such a thing. “No matter where you are Rolan,” the brilliance of the night reflected in your gaze. “You can’t help leave people in awe if not with your presence but that fiery burning heart of yours.” I withdrew my claw from ever reaching you.

I said all those vile things for my own selfish pride and coming from my own incompetence. What would Cal and Lia say if they saw us now? Wherever they are waiting outside Baldur’s Gate. Their sorry excuse of an older brother couldn’t save them, protect them and can’t simply give them a proper home to call their own. Well it’s in my blood to be a wretched hellspawn to the ones I have grown fond of and have come to love. To my first love and to my other fellow kin, why was I gifted these fortunes for to live such a life?

I watched on as the stars grew ever dimmer. The rolling clouds have come by blocking the rest of the trickling light through the window. Stubbornly and defiantly the moon still chooses to peek through despite the weather, guiding the stars to find their place. What have I come to learn as I passed through this plane? There is deep sorrow looking on at an endless bleak night. With no light above to guide and to comfort those far away below. A blurred silhouette against the rest of existence is a hard life to live.

The night would still be night without a moon but the stars will long for them. They would never know so till they meet. The night would still be night with a lone moon but the absence of stars is apparent against the empty sky. They find themselves searching for them as they move across the horizon. The night would be complete with the brilliance of the stars and the gentle presence of the moon.

When morning comes the stars and moon come to part. The stars are out of reach of the moon and yet, the moon patiently waits for the stars as they come to share their sky. If I were to be fortunate once more, when you come to disappear would you hear me before we part? I would like to apologize and bid you with my deepest remorse. One day I will repay every word I owe till the last of the stars have burned their brightest, endeavoring to be worthy of the endless sky. The moons don't exist without the stars but the stars wouldn't be here without you. I will be here watching over the moon. Sleep soundly for there is a wizard waiting for you in and amongst the stars.

[lex-munro]

[More Like Grand-Ish: Part 5] Selfish

Lost my place for a bit, there…OPLA ZoSan randomness; Sanji’s POV and speech use UK English.

Misunderstandings, because Zoro is prickly and Sanji is not great at reading him.  Reconciling one another’s priorities is a key step in a long-term relationship.

Timeline-wise, we’re still between Conomi and Loguetown, thanks to their little detour.

Canon divergent/universe alterations, gay!Zoro and anything-that’s-pretty-enough!Sanji, ubiquitous bad language.  Recognizeable characters belong to Netflix, Oda, Jump, etc.

 ***

Selfish

Sanji was kneading pasta dough and thinking.  He was thinking about the past, yeah…but also about the dream he’d abandoned and retrieved, and about the future, and about the way romances tended to progress.

“Oy, mossy,” he said.  Zoro made an inquisitive noise from the bench where he was catnapping, so Sanji went on.  “I’ve been thinking about stuff.  And I just wanna let you know that, if our dreams point us in separate directions, I won’t be selfish and make you stay with me.”

One dark eye opened and stared at him.  “Selfish.”

“Yeah.  Y’know…like how…maybe some guy’s wife lands the perfect job on another island, and since it pays more, maybe he gives up his own beloved career to move house.  I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“If it wasn’t selfish…would you want me to stay?”

Sanji paused, confused.  “What?”

“Say I achieve my dream first…would you want me around while you look for All Blue?”

“If you’d already achieved your dream, it’d be a moot point—I’m talkin’ about if the paths diverge.  Like, if I had an urgent lead, but some amazing master gave you a one-time offer to train with him before he dies.”

“But if I decided—all on my own—to follow you instead, would you be happy?”

Sanji blew his hair away from his eyes and aggressively kneaded the dough.  “How the hell could I be happy that you were giving up your dream because of me?”

“It wouldn’t be giving it up, and it’d be for me,” Zoro insisted against all logic.  “Pursuing my dream has already almost gotten me killed once.  Maybe it really will, someday.  So we go after your dream first, and then we go after mine.”

“Are you not listening to me at all?”

“I think you’re not listening.”

“I’m telling you I’m not selfish enough to do that!”

“Selfish,” Zoro said again, sitting up.  “So it’s selfish of me to want to be happy.”

Sanji glared at him.  “I didn’t say that.  I don’t wanna be the reason you put your wants aside, and I don’t think I could still love you if you just gave up on your promise.”

“Why would we part ways when we fight well together and being with you makes me happy?  But you’re saying that wanting to stay together makes me selfish.  I can’t want more than one thing, I can’t be human, I can only be the Demon of East Blue.  Go fuck yourself, shitty waiter,” Zoro hissed, and stalked out of the galley.

“What?” Sanji said to the empty room.

~

Zoro nursed his hurt feelings and stung pride up in the crow’s nest.

If Sanji wanted to call it quits, he could just say that.  He didn’t have to—to talk in riddles and obtuse hypotheticals.  And it didn’t seem fair, anyway, when Sanji had been the one to catch feelings first.

Right?

Was Zoro really so pathetic that he’d fall head-over-heels for the first guy who slept wth him for longer than a week?

……

Yes.

Absolutely.

A beautiful guy who fucked him right and understood his obsessions?  A guy whose own obsession permeated almost every moment of his life?  Yeah, he’d fallen in love basically right away.

Except apparently Sanji didn’t actually understand.  Fulfilling his promise would always be the most important thing in his life, but he could train and follow Sanji.  He could train and be in love; he was sure of it.

Maybe Sanji couldn’t.  Or maybe he had some weird guilt thing where he thought Luffy wouldn’t be ecstatic to look for All Blue and the One Piece at the same time once they hit the Grand Line.

Or maybe he was truly getting sick of Zoro.  Maybe he didn’t like the sweaty and salty smell, the rough hair, the admitted utter lack of social graces.  Maybe he missed delicate girls, polite society, tits…

Yeah.

Sanji was fancy.  He was (estranged) royalty.  That kind of people didn’t mingle with the likes of him in the long-term.  They slummed it for little stretches, trying to get a thrill or two, and then they went back to their fancy parties with unpronounceable food.

The novelty had come back for a while after Tuni, because somebody else had been playing with his toy, and now it was gone again.

Zoro leaned his head back against the mast and closed his eyes.

Fuck.

So stupid, getting so attached to somebody from such a different world.

“I’m shit,” Sanji called up from the deck, scattering every thought in the swordsman’s head.  “I’m awful.  The worst.”

Zoro peered over the edge of the crow’s nest.  “Don’t talk about my boyfriend that way,” he said.

Sanji pouted up at him.  “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me, precious?”

“Guess that depends on which part you apologize for.”

“If we go after my dream first and the All Blue doesn’t exist, you’ll be wasting your life.”

“Oh, us being together is a waste,” Zoro drawled, and settled back down to sulk.  “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that!  Why are you being so—so—”  Sanji made a frustrated noise.

“You don’t want a long haul, I get it,” Zoro offered.  “People fall in and out of love, don’t they?  It’s fine, it happens, and I know I’m nothing like your usual taste.  But you keep trying to put pretty garnishes on the hard shit, when you should just tell me the fuckin’ truth.”

“What about you?  Almost four months, and you still don’t even trust me.  We’re so close to the Grand Line that we could spit on Loguetown, we’re about to enter the Pirate’s Paradise, we’ll be facing life-or-death situations side-by-side on a daily basis.  You say you love me, and you say you believe me when I say I love you, but you don’t trust me.”

“I trust exactly two people in the world:  that rubberized embodiment of honesty we call a captain, and the man who tried to teach me to be more than some bloodthirsty savage with a sword.”

There was a long pause down below.

Any moment, he’d hear the click of metal-reinforced shoes going back into the galley…

Instead, “You don’t even trust yourself?” Sanji asked in a funny tone.

“Trust the guy who caused his only friend’s death and had to run away from home to keep his promise to her?” scoffed Zoro.  “The guy who routinely trades lives for berri?  The guy who couldn’t even tell his boyfriend had been replaced by a shitty copy for three weeks?”

“Stop being mean to my boyfriend,” Sanji said, and it sounded like he was trying to pretend it was funny when they both knew it was just tragic.

“Nah, fuck that idiot.  Trusting that guy has only ever led me to misery.”

There was another long pause, punctuated by the soft creak of rope and the idle flap of rippling canvas.

“I’d trust that guy with my life,” Sanji said, peeking over the edge of the crow’s nest.

Zoro made a face.

Sanji pouted again.  “Permission to come aboard?”

“You still haven’t apologized, or even said what you’re apologizing for.”

“I don’t not want to be with you,” Sanji said.

Zoro was not impressed.

Sanji ducked his head.  “Zoro.  Please, can I climb in and sit with you?”

“I reserve the right to jump,” the swordsman grumbled.

“Nah, yeah, that’s fair,” Sanji replied a little dispiritedly.  But he went ahead and climbed in, settling on the floor against Zoro’s side.  He was pleasantly warm.  “So, obviously I need to explain.”

“So obvious Luffy would notice,” Zoro agreed.

Sanji grimaced.  He pressed a little more firmly to Zoro’s side, like a cat begging forgiveness.  “I can do long haul.  After the first month, I kinda started aiming for it.  I had a dream one night…we were a lot older, gray hair and wrinkles and all.  We had our own ship in Luffy’s armada, where I ran a restaurant and you steered us from legendary opponent to legendary opponent, and young guys would come and prostrate themselves for a chance at your tutelage.  And we were so happy.”

Zoro sternly quelled the fluttering in his belly, but jostled Sanji gently with a shrug.  “That’s a good dream.”

“But it’s just a dream,” Sanji went on.  “And the more I thought about it, the more I knew I didn’t want to drag you into that, hoping for some fantasy, only to find years down the line that you felt trapped and resentful.”

Zoro watched and contemplated while Sanji fidgeted.  When he figured he’d drawn it out long enough, he said, “Every trap I’ve ever been in, I walked into it knowingly.  There are things more important than some abstract notion of ‘freedom.’“

“Right, but what I’m saying is—”

“You really think I’d stick around if I resented you?  That’s not how my version of loyalty works.”

“No, I know that—”

“Do you?”

Sanji stopped.  He blinked.  He stared at Zoro.  He gave a soft little self-deprecating smile.  “Yeah, I guess I do.  I’m just afraid of turning into my shitty father.”

“Well, if he fucks as well as you do…” Zoro teased, softening the blow by draping himself over Sanji’s chest and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, ugh, yuck!” groaned Sanji.  “Guh, mental images—urgh, they’re not leaving—”

Zoro felt like he might burst with fondness.  Instead, he allowed a little chuckle and nuzzled noses.

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you.  You’ve traumatised me, you brute.”

“You sure?  Not even if I flutter my eyelashes and bite my lip and tell you how much I love you, despite you being a total dumbass?”

“Oy, you’re the dumbarse.”

“What a shame, to never kiss me again!” Zoro said, and heaved a theatrical sigh.

“I did not say never.  You’ll just need to be a little more persuasive after the horrors inflicted by my imagination.”

Zoro put on his blandest expression and said, “Oh, Sanji, you’re so handsome and magnanimous.  Surely you would be so benevolent as to kiss me until my lips are numb and I forget all that bullshit you were spouting earlier.”

“Ah, a terrible sacrifice,” Sanji purred, coaxing Zoro properly into his lap.  “But one I am assuredly willing to make.”

 .End.

[unfinishedslurs]

Whoopsie!! I totally killed Steve. My bad guys

Steve is batted away like a rag doll, and goes flying into a tree. The sickening crack leaves Dustin stunned, and he stops in his tracks, staring. Waiting for Steve to get back up, like he always does. 

He doesn’t.

Okay, so he’s passed out. Bad timing, but it’ll be like when Billy beat him up. He’ll probably have a nasty concussion, and a broken bone, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He’s always fine. It’s Steve. 

“Steve!” Robin cries. She starts to run to him, but a monster gets in her way and she has to defend herself. One rushes at him, too, and Dustin goes back to the fight. 

As soon as it’s over, Robin is hurtling towards the tree that Steve is still lying at the base of. Bile rises in Dustin’s throat as he follows her. He shouldn’t be passed out this long, it’s a sure sign of severe brain damage. He shouldn’t be laying this still. 

When he catches up, Robin is already shaking him. “Steve,” she pleads as the others come to see what’s going on. “Steve, c��mon, wake up. We gotta get you to a hospital. Hear that? It’s your least favorite word! I’m going to stick you in a hospital for life if you don’t wake up right now—“

“We should check his pulse,” Dustin says distantly. “Make sure his heartbeat’s steady.” He drops to his knees to do just that. Just as quick, Jonathan nudges him away. 

“I’ll do it,” he says, in a voice Dustin’s only heard him use on Will. “I’ve got some first aid training under my belt.”

He doesn’t reply, just takes the hand Robin’s not clutching and stays still, staring at Steve. He can’t stop feeling like something’s off about the way he’s laying there, completely motionless—

His heart stutters in his chest. Steve’s completely motionless. He’s usually so bad at staying still, always running his hands through his hair, or flicking his lighter, or tapping a beat against the steering wheel. Now, he’s not doing any of that. He’s not moving at all. There’s not even a rise and fall of his chest. 

Dustin stares uncomprehendingly. He has the puzzle pieces, he knows he does, but he can’t make them come together. It’s like his brain is rejecting the picture it makes. 

Jonathan pulls his fingers away from Steve’s throat, brow furrowed, anxiety pulling at his features. He starts to take Steve’s hand, but Dustin can’t make himself let go. 

Gently, ever so gently, Jonathan pries his fingers off the limp wrist in his grasp. Dustin lets it happen, silent.

Robin hasn’t stopped talking, quiet murmurs replacing the panicked concern from before. He can’t understand the words through the roaring in his ears. 

Jonathan has turned white as a sheet, frozen with his fingers looped around Steve’s wrist. He thinks he might know what it means. He thinks he’s wrong, he’s wrong, he’s got to be wrong—

Robin shifts to lie perpendicular to Steve, and lays her head on his chest. Quiet, like she’s listening for something. 

She doesn’t find it. 

It’s been three weeks, but Dustin can still hear Robin’s anguished howl ringing in his ears. 

They had to pull her off of him, needed Hopper and Murray both because she fought. Kicked and scratched and screamed when they took her. Kept calling out for Steve to wake up between it all, escaped twice so she could go back and hold him. Hopper was grim, face open and awful, Murray pale and swearing as they wrestled her away. 

Dustin hadn’t moved, still in shock. Jonathan and Argyle had to practically carry him out, because he couldn’t make his limbs work. He couldn’t make himself leave Steve’s side. 

He realized what they were doing halfway to the car. 

“Wait,” he said, twisting, “wait, what are we doing? We can’t leave him there. We can’t leave him alone, he hates being alone. We can’t—“

Jonathan and Argyle exchanged a look over his head. 

“I’ve got him, man,” Argyle said quietly. Jonathan gave a sharp nod before moving in front of Dustin, ducking down to meet his eye. Tears were streaming down his face. 

“I’ll sit with him,” he promised. “Go ahead and go with Argyle, okay? I’ve got him. He won’t be alone.”

“But I—“

“I’ve got it,” Jonathan repeated, voice cracking. Dustin nodded and fell limp against Argyle’s side. He trusted Jonathan. Steve did too. 

When they got to the car, Robin was still thrashing. Murray was practically sitting on her, a bruise forming over his eye. 

“Where’s Jonathan?” Hooper asks sharply when he sees them. 

Argyle gestured helplessly. “Sitting with him. Dustin said…he didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Hopper's eyes were defeated, and he swiped a hand across his face before getting up and heading towards Steve and Jonathan without another word. 

Dustin climbed into the backseat, where Murray finally had Robin pinned. She was yelling herself hoarse. 

“You—you asshole, get the hell off of me, you can’t just fucking—you don’t get it, he needs me, he hates being alone, he hates it, he fucking hates it and he’s never alone. As long as I’m here he’s never fucking alone so let me go—“

“Robin,” he croaked, holding her arm. She whipped her head towards him immediately, eyes wide. 

“Henderson. Dustin, tell this asshole to let me go. I need to go to Steve. We can’t—I can’t leave him alone, please, he needs me there—“

“He’s not alone,” Dustin promised around the lump in his throat. “Jonathan’s with him. Jonathan’s gonna stay with him, he won’t be alone.”

She shook her head. “No, he needs me—“

“Jonathan will take care of him,” he repeated. “He’s Will’s big brother, he’s good at taking care of people.”

She finally stilled, eyes on Dustin. “Jonathan has him?”

He nodded, face wet, and she finally relaxed.

“Jonathan’s good,” she said. “Steve…Steve likes Jonathan.” She laughed, sharp enough to make him flinch. “He’s a sucker for pretty boys.”

Argyle made a low, hurt sound, like he’d been punched. Murray moved to the middle seat, relieved that he no longer had to pin her down.

In a move that they should have seen coming, she opened the door and bolted. 

“Shit!” Murray barked, and ran after her. 

[tryslora]

Blog: Keep Going

Endings do not have to mean it’s over.

Endings can be the time to ask “What happens after this?” or “What did that mean?” or “Where should I go next?”

I’m not saying that when something ends we should fight back against that ending and try to keep going. Far from it. I’m saying that we should adapt, change paths, and keep learning.

When someone starts martial arts, they often see the black belt as a goal. I’ve written about this before, particularly as I’ve continued on my own path of training. The black belt is only the beginning. Upon attaining my black belt, the first thing I realized was how far I had left to go. I am learning every day when I train at taekwondo, lessons for martial arts, and lessons for life.

In Tarot, one of the most common layouts is the Celtic Cross. There are ten positions, looking at the person, their situation, their resources, and their past and future. The final position is “The Final Outcome” which sounds… done. It sounds as if that is the only possibility.

Again, no. It’s not.

The card in the position of the final outcome is one possible outcome of the querent’s path—the one that is most likely to be achieved if the querent follows the path as laid out in the reading. But it could change. And if the querent wants more information, they could do a second reading with that final outcome card in the position of the question.

It’s not the end of the overall story, it’s simply the end of that part of it. It’s the beginning of the next arc.

I’ve been editing Missed Fortunes for the past few weeks as we finalize all the other edits that we’ve worked on, and get the book ready for print. I’ve reread tidbits while searching for snippets that I could post and share. But that isn’t the only thing I’ve been working on.

I’ve also been looking at the various short pieces I’ve written for PHU, and thinking about the next book which needs to be written and serialized (Run Together). I’ve also been brainstorming for the next book in the Seven Lakes series (Bound By Denial).

And today I realized something: for me, writing a series is kind of like doing a Tarot reading.

The plot (cards) gets laid out. The character traverse the path, their past coming to bear against the future, their resources included, until they reach the final outcome.

But that’s the end of that book, not the series as a whole.

For me, each book in a series contains the seeds of the next book (or books). If you read between the lines, there are pieces hinting at the future stories, waiting to be written and read.

At the end of Commit to the Kick, Rory shows the cloudy magical ink he has received as an unexpected side-effect during a magical ritual. Part of that story is told during Missed Fortunes, but the details don’t fully come to light until his book: Not Your Love Song.

Nate is a character seen in almost every book of the PHU series. He’s flirtatious, happy, outgoing. He’s almost always at Teas Please when the current character group of whichever book is there. He has a well-known crush. He befriends people (notably including the prickly Pels and the equally prickly Cass). His story is there on the pages, waiting to be told, and it will be when I get my arse in gear and write Run Together.

Nate is the card selected out of the layouts already performed who will be centered in the next reading.

Nate is the person who is next to learn and understand.

Personally, I love this idea, that we are never quite done. When we reach a goal, our first question can be “…and?” and we can keep going. Not in a “ohmygod we are never DONE” sort of way, but in the “there is always something new to enjoy” kind of way.

I want to know there is always something fun coming. That even when the world is crashing down around me, I can pick out one thing and say “What if…?” and keep going.

And yes, you can tell I’m a fanfic writer, too, huh?

Because.

If you don’t like the ending you’ve been given, write another.

Keep going.