#i just feel like you'd both write great versions

[jayciethings]

I think this might be the funniest prompt I've ever heard for a short story.

@colubrina @silverbirching Please consider writing it 😅

"I think it would be very funny for characters in a fantasy setting to walk into a pub and try to order and the bartender sighs and goes, 'Species and age?' while pulling out a massive book holding the drinking age of every type of species capable of purchasing"

[shirefantasies]

hi!! I love your writing so I'd like to request if that's ok :D please could you write a preference scenario (romantic plz) for all the Hobbit characters with an s/o with touch as their love language? if you'd feel comfortable making it a little suggestive then that'd be amazing but don't worry if not, fluff is more than ok with me!

thank you! <3

Your kind words do my heart wonders lovie 🥹🥰 also absolutely 100% take my metaphorical money 💸🫶🏻 some are more suggestive than others just based on the personalities/natures of the characters but I really hope you love it!!! 💕 threw in some extra non-company characters since the ask sounded comprehensive, enjoy 😉

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

Balin

✧ His contented sighs and sounds of pleasure at your affection are some of the most encouraging things you’ve heard.

✧ Loves pressing kisses to your bare shoulders.

✧ Balin is always the one to help dress you, little touches like doing up your laces and things, but he is also the one who helps undress you at the end of the day. Hands carefully working over you to undo every tie of your garments, eyes trying not to roam too far, instead opting to search yours…

✧ He has this little habit of sliding his hands up your sleeves to caress your arms.

✧ Occasionally calls you a pet name he tends to reserve for in private just to flip the script upon his own reaction to your touches.

Dwalin

✧ Gives you the proudest smirk and chuckles deeply when he feels your hands upon him.

✧ You rest your head against him only to feel him move it aside with a surprising gentleness before his lips are on your neck.

✧ When you tell him that you’re cold and reach into the folds of his coat, he remarks with great satisfaction that he knows a way you two could keep warm.

✧ Sparring sessions with Dwalin tend to end up with you pinned and straddled, his gaze boring intensely into yours.

✧ Party trick as it may seem to be, Dwalin can even turn lifting you up on his bicep sensual if he so desires, his other hand reaching for you as you pull to his lips.

Thorin

✧ The type to tell you ‘no, not here’ when he feels you pulling into him, then cave and proceed to kiss you so hard you lose all breath in your lungs.

✧ The further your relationship goes on, soon it will come to your notice how accustomed you are to the feeling of Thorin’s hand protectively about your waist nearly at all times, giving it the occasional squeeze.

✧ Cannot keep his hands off you if you wear his coat, especially if you are wearing little to nothing else.

✧ It’s irresistible to tease Thorin just to see the arch of his brows in surprise at your forward motions, be they placing his hands upon you or roaming yours over him.

✧ Driving Thorin crazy is quite easy, my friend- simply whisper “yes, My King” in his ear.

Oin

✧ Shamelessly makes jokes about how you should slow down, he is the one who's supposed to give you the check-up after all.

✧ Knowing the most about bodies and being studied in their reactions, he very quickly learns both your habits and in turn the places you prefer to be touched.

✧ His massages are expert, heavenly, his hands working over all the right muscles and spots. Such moments are an excuse for you to look through Oin’s oils and choose your favorite scent or mood.

✧ Insists he only know how to undress you so fast from having to do it in emergencies, he swears…

✧ Whispers his desires into your ear, but favors your love of demonstrations to save you having to call out private matters through his trumpet in front of the whole camp.

Gloin

✧ If you were to open up a dictionary and look up the word 'handsy', you would see a picture of Gloin beneath it; he adores the fact that you're the same, proud to tell anyone you can't keep your hands off him.

✧ One of his favorite sensations upon this earth is the way your hands slide over his chest, sometimes even grabbing the edges of his coat, as your lips collide.

✧ Another is when your fingers tangle into his hair, even if they end up pulling a bit.

✧ Bedtime all but brings Gloin wrestling you down into position where he can hold you or lie on top of you. Whether you stay that way or not is up to you…

✧ Puffs out his chest first, then sweeps you into the kiss of a lifetime the day you absentmindedly run your hands over him and squeeze his arms, complimenting his muscles.

Bifur

✧ When allowed to, his hands will roam your body as if trying to memorize every inch of it.

✧ Absentmindedly strokes a hand up and down your legs when you throw them in his lap.

✧ Has been known to silently slip off articles of your clothing and offer pieces of his instead.

✧ In addition to that, he has the teasing habit of sliding hands into your clothes, especially when they’ve gotten cold, just to see and feel the way you contort and shiver in shock.

✧ Signs obscene things with such a straight face or look of mild questioning when you initiate affection, laughing wickedly at your reply of shock or eagerness.

Bofur

✧ I maintain that Bofur adores affection and is unafraid to show it, even going so far as to hold you in his lap and show you (and the fact that only he can do that) off!

✧ As you stand together, foreheads resting against each other, you can feel his hands draw patterns upon your hips.

✧ Even cuddling with Bofur is quite a sensual experience, your limbs a tangle and his lips often sneaking their way to find your neck or chest.

✧ You can always feel him smile against you when your tongue slides to the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss instantly.

✧ Bofur also quite enjoys nibbling on your earlobes if you let him, taking breaks between kisses over there.

Bombur

✧ Blushes at your affections and gives you a look like you are an angel upon the earth.

✧ Main offender of turning a peck onto the cheek into more at the last minute, turning to capture your lips instead.

✧ Occasionally forgets himself amidst your nature and gets a wee bit too comfortable; tells you you have something on your face at dinner and then proceeds to kiss or lick it off like that’s normal procedure.

✧ Almost always has a hand upon your knee or thigh beneath the table, too. Sometimes it remains stationary, other times not so much.

✧ Tends to mirror the affections you give under the assumption that you give what you desire. Sometimes does the things that pleasure you most with the silence, but the most eager look you’ve ever seen, questioning if he’s doing well because frankly he enjoys the praise.

Dori

✧ Definitely more prim and proper about things, so all of that must be in private!

✧ That being said, 'collecting firewood' is a great excuse to go somewhere secluded and enjoy each other’s company behind a tree.

✧ Always asking if you’re enjoying things to learn what gives you the most pleasure, following your responses to his every kiss and touch.

✧ You can feel it in the way he touches you, responds to your touch, that he is all but wondering if you are real or someone who stumbled forth from his wildest dreams set to disappear back into the recesses of his mind.

✧ Takes your hand and places kisses up your arm, sometimes getting less gentlemanly as he goes along.

Nori

✧ You are two peas in a pod! Keeping his hands to himself is barely in Nori’s vocabulary.

✧ When you kiss you can fully expect to feel them roaming, sometimes settling for a grip upon the hindquarters or others running up and down your back.

✧ Lets his lips brush the shell of your ear as he leans in to whisper all sorts of messages, be they comments on the others or promises for the evening.

✧ If your hair is long enough, he loves to tangle his hands in it and tug it in your most intimate moments.

✧ Do not expect to sit down without his grip upon your thigh or even the feeling of your skirt’s edge lifting if you wear one…

Ori

✧ Goes bright red at the way you’re always keeping connected, a hand over his or even both around him.

✧ When you yank him in by the scarf for a passionate kiss, why he’s in heaven, smiling into every motion.

✧ Desperation colors his kisses at times, sending his hands gripping you for dear life and his lips searching for treasure he finds with you again and again.

✧ Has never voiced this, but you can tell by the way his breath hitches that he loves it when you wrap your legs around him.

✧ If he is feeling quite bold you may catch Ori sneaking a hand into your pocket, usually to find yours or place a little surprise gift knowing the small touch keeps your heart warm.

Fili

✧ Loves the way your hands slide around his waist and up his tunic, searching for the warmth of his skin.

✧ Knowing how loved you feel by his touch, Fili often keeps you right beneath his arm, halfway embracing as you stroll.

✧ Traps you with his legs upon taking his desired big spoon role, finding new and creative ways to wrap them around you that may apply in later times as well.

✧ Adores when you shuffle underneath him while he does push-ups, kissing your lips, cheeks, or neck with each bob down. You know the shifts of his mood by if this changes to bites.

✧ Bites upon your neck are another common occurrence, leaving you to tease him that you’ll need a whole new wardrobe of turtlenecks!

Kili

✧ He’s right there with you, whether it’s simply wanting to be holding hands all the time or playfully giving your arse a light smack as you walk by!

✧ You two already have the habit of resting one’s legs upon the other’s lap, but if you happen to wear a skirt when it’s your turn…

✧ Cups your face and looks at you with the biggest smile, breathless in your presence before a kiss that has you barely separating for air, but never fully apart.

✧ One of his habits is catching your hands as they trace over his body when they reach a spot he really likes to be touched.

✧ His hands tend to slide down your back and settle upon your hindquarters when you two share kisses.

Bilbo

✧ Sometimes you’ll just pass the burglar by, running a hand down his arm and giving him a look that has him flushing beet red.

✧ Another one who prefers these things in private, but if you initiate and Bilbo is feeling quite bold he may deftly sneak a hand into your back pocket as you walk. Only if no one is behind you two, of course.

✧ Nuzzles his nose against your before kissing you like he isn’t about to dip you passionately.

✧ Whatever access to your skin is granted, Bilbo practically worships it, awed and reverent in his every touch.

✧ He loves resting his head against your chest, nuzzling in there and if he can peppering it with little kisses or maybe even nips.

Thranduil

✧ Teases the dickens out of you for the way you seek out his touch, practically purring into kisses and running your hands over his shoulders.

✧ Only to turn around and run his nails down your spine as your lips meet again and again…

✧ Upon shared meals, sometimes he will feed you things by hand, hoping you will be unafraid to let him feel you taking it from him.

✧ Much as you love surprising him with kisses, Thranduil hopes you enjoy the deeper feeling of your tongues entwined as much as he does. He is unafraid to use his tongue really practically anywhere you’ll let him.

✧ Trails kisses along your collarbones when you sit in his lap, often upon his throne.

Bard

✧ Laketown's bowman is opening himself to affection again, and receiving it is aiding in that pursuit, reminding him to give in to the desire to show it.

✧ Snaking a hand around your waist, he tugs you against his chest, smiling at the fall of your hand upon him.

✧ His eyelids flutter involuntarily shut at the feeling of your hand dragging slowly down his chest or along the length of his spine.

✧ You can feel his lips part in pure shock the first time your tongue travels along their entrance, but with great haste you are let in.

✧ Even if he is not always forthcoming with it, Bard longs for the comfort of another body nearly as much as you do. As he falls asleep, you can feel him relax, his head buried between your neck and shoulder as one hand travels up and down.

Beorn

✧ He definitely isn’t used to physical affection, starting or even glaring in surprise at first, but when he realizes your love is true, that is when you begin to feel the way Beorn melts into your touch, something different glinting in his brown eyes.

✧ His favorite form of affection is, quite simply, holding you against his chest, height allowing him to rest his head atop yours. From there, Beorn can hardly resist the way you lean up to press kisses to his neck.

✧ You tend to initiate many of your shared kisses, but Beorn inadvertently deepens them with his habit of nipping at your lips. He apologizes, but you assure him he has nothing to worry about.

✧ Finding out you love to cuddle means you’ll hardly find yourself sleeping without Beorn’s form draped protectively over you. Whether he soothes you or claims you entirely depends upon the night.

✧ Beorn’s bear-like tendencies come out in his affection sometimes, the way he rubs his head or sides against yours.

[wheresarizona]

Learning to Live Part 30

summary: Sunday—it’s Javier’s 40th birthday, and you have some sexy surprises planned for when you get home from dinner. Monday—you’re back at work after your lovely vacation, and it’s time to bite the bullet and tell your disapproving family that you’re getting married. You can probably guess how well that goes over…

rating: E (18+! A good chunk of this is about birthday sex. No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (around ten years), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (m & f receiving), 69, face sitting, butt plugs (f), anal play (f receiving), double penetration, breeding kink, lingerie, nude photos, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, waxing poetic about Javier’s dick, getting KO’d from orgasms, banter, domestic fluff, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, death of a parent/grief, dysfunctional family, arguing, period typical sexism, spoiling Javier for his birthday, nurse stories (humorous), Javier being the little spoon, discussion about eating habits, Javier making you post-sex food, a special guest makes an appearance)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (reader is a nurse with no physical descriptions)

word count: 16.8k (Why am I like this?)

a/n: This chapter was supposed to be solely about birthday sex, but something happened, I’m not sure what, and somehow there’s a lot of plot in it now? I apologize. I am at the mercy of the characters. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul, for betaing! You’re incredible.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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There was a game Javier liked to play when you went out to eat with people and were seated next to one another. It was kind of like Chicken, where two cars drive toward each other, and one of them has to swerve, or else they’ll crash—basically, it was a test to see how ballsy you were and how much of a risk you were willing to take to come out as the victor. In Javi’s version, it involved his hand under the table on your knee that would slowly creep up your thigh and under your dress, if you were wearing one, or along your pant-covered leg to try and make it to his goal nestled between your thighs—it was up to you to determine how far he’d get. Were you going to chicken out and stop his movements? Or were you going to be ballsy and let him get to the finish line? Honestly, it depended on how you were feeling and who you were with because it was really distracting when he rubbed your pussy in the middle of trying to have a conversation with someone. Still, the game was a lot of fun, and sometimes you liked to mess with him by letting him get almost all the way to his prize before you denied him, just to keep him on his toes.

Another thing was that there wasn’t always one round. Sometimes, he’d wait a bit and try his luck, again and again, to see how many attempts it’d take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of your Tootsie Pop—unless you told him to stop, then his hand would make itself at home, holding your thigh.

Tonight was Javi's 40th birthday, and you'd gone out to dinner with his father. Usually, on such a special day—and the fact you were always horny for him—you'd allow his palm to reach its destination. This evening, however, you had stopped all of his attempts and wouldn't let him get very far since you didn't want to ruin the surprise that was hiding under your dress—and your fiancé was very, very curious about what your undergarment situation was, getting to the point you kept his hand still between your closed thighs until it was time to leave.

The meal and catching up with Chucho had been wonderful—hanging out with your soon-to-be father-in-law was always a great time.

On the morning that you called the older man to tell him about your engagement, you laughed when he said he'd have something put in writing about his promises that he'd love you both living with him and wouldn't mind if there was a newborn there, too. You were well aware of his eagerness to have grandchildren and bet Javi twenty dollars his dad was going to show up today with legal documents on the matter, and you'd been right—he had a large manila envelope with an agreement he had his lawyer put together inside for you. Once dinner was done, you found out that wasn't all he brought; Chucho presented Javi with a Tupperware container filled with a big slice of tres leches cake his tía María made from his mother’s recipe. As he ate, his dad quietly serenaded him with a song called “Las Mañanitas,” much to his chagrin, the first part being:

“Estas son las mañanitas, que cantaba el Rey David, (This is the morning song that King David sang), Hoy por ser día de tu santo, te las cantamos a ti, (Because today is your saint’s day, we’re singing it for you), Despierta, mi Javi, despierta, mira que ya amaneció, (Wake up, mi Javi, wake up, look it is already dawn), Ya los pajarillos cantan, la luna ya se metió, (The birds are already singing, and the moon has set).”

There was a promise between the three of you that the restaurant staff wouldn’t be alerted that it was Javier’s birthday in order to avoid the employees bringing attention to him and singing; he didn’t, however, put any restrictions on his father or you singing to him, and Chucho was happily exploiting that loophole while his son grumpily devoured his cake he shared with you.

Javi wasn’t actually annoyed with his dad—he had the Tupperware practically licked clean by the time you were ready to go, and before you left, he gave his dad a big hug and whispered his thanks for having the cake made since it was something his mother always baked for their birthdays.

The big 4-0 was a milestone that usually involved a celebration, but your fiancé had declined his father and three tías offers to throw him a party and told everyone he didn’t want any gifts—he was determined not to make it a big deal, and only desired to have dinner with you and Chucho; the tres leches cake was a wonderful surprise, and definitely appreciated, though.

All of that brings you to where you were currently—sitting beside Javi on the bench seat of his truck as he drove you home. He’d pulled up your dress to bare your knee, resting his hand on it, and you were wondering when he would give his game another go; you knew him and that there was no way he’d be able to resist trying again, now that you were alone.

"Did you enjoy your birthday?" you asked, doing your best to keep your squirming to a minimum as you tried to find a comfortable position.

"Yeah," he answered, glancing at you with a smile. "I loved spending the day with you, seeing my mom—" You stopped by the cemetery on your way to dinner to tell her about your engagement. "—and going to dinner with Pop. Today was nice."

You hugged his arm. "I'm happy you had a good day, even though a certain someone—" Lorraine. "—tried to ruin it. Do you think she'll listen and leave us alone?" There'd been an altercation with her on your walk to the restaurant, and Javi finally had his chance to give her a piece of his mind and threaten her and her family with restraining orders if they didn't stop bothering you.

His eyes were back on the road, a frown replacing his smile.

"Maybe? She's been dead set on making my life difficult since I left her, and I don't know if she'll be able to give up."

"Guess we'll just have to see." A change in subject was needed. "Sooo, do you have any requests for tonight?"

His fingers stroked the inside of your knee.

"What do you mean?"

He started slowly moving his hand along your thigh, your palm resting on his jean-covered leg.

"You know exactly what I mean. It's your birthday, so you get anything you want."

He turned his head your way for a few seconds.

“I thought you had tonight planned.”

"I do." You nodded. "But you're the birthday boy, and I wanna make sure to include any specific desires you may have for this evening."

His focus went to what was in front of him, his fingers skating up your inner thigh and under your dress.

"Hmmm," he hummed. "I know you don't want to spoil tonight, but will I get to eat your pussy?"

"If you want to, sure."

"Are you gonna suck my dick?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Will I get to come inside you?"

There was a pause for a moment as you figured out how to respond. "...yes?"

He looked over at you with a curious expression. "That's... interesting. With how you answered, I'll be coming inside you, but not where I imagined…"

You frowned. "Javier, it is your birthday, and I won't have you ruining my surprises by you going all Detective Peña on me." To end the sentence, you squeezed your thighs shut to trap his hand and keep it from moving any further.

Your reaction made him pout and turn his attention back to the road.

"Fine," he said. "I won't think about it." He sighed. "I know you're not wearing panties. I won't be ruining any surprises if you let me touch you."

"Sure, but I want you to wait until we get home so you can undress me."

"Okay."

You rubbed his arm with your free hand. "Patience, baby—you're gonna have a great time."

His eyes met yours, and he smiled. "I know, mi amor (my love), and I'm fucking excited." He moved his hand out from between your legs to grab your smaller one on his thigh, pressing your palm against where he was half-hard beneath his jeans.

"You are excited,” you purred, rubbing him over his pants. “Better get you nice and hard before we get home.”

“With what I’m hoping will happen tonight? That won’t be an issue, Cielito.”

Once you arrived at your shared apartment, you hung up the jean jacket you were wearing, setting your purse onto the console table near the front door, Javi emptying his pockets into the large bowl on top of it. Both of you kicked off your shoes, and your fiancé laid his folded sports coat over the back of the couch before he was on you, his lips hungrily colliding with yours in a searing kiss—one of his arms went around you to pull you flush against him, his other hand cradling the back of your head, making you moan when he eagerly licked into your mouth.

His kisses were sweet from the cake, tasting it on his tongue, arousal burning hot in your abdomen. He had your toes curling and skin vibrating, wanting him so bad, and he seemed to want you just as much when he turned and walked you toward your room with your lips fused together.

Anticipation was swelling inside you, butterflies going wild in your tummy at hoping Javi really did enjoy what you had in store for him.

As your feet moved, your hands worked open the buttons on his shirt, rubbing your palms up the warm skin of his torso once it was bared, feeling the soft give of his belly to his muscular chest—moving higher along his neck, cupping his cheeks, then pressing your fingers into his soft hair.

The moment you stepped into your room, he unzipped the back of your dress and moved you a little further inside to have you at the end of your big, king-sized bed. Javi broke the kiss, shrugging off his shirt that fell to the floor, his hungry gaze focusing on your chest—he was careful when he took the red, satiny shoulder straps into his hands, and pulled the dress down and off your arms, revealing your bosom, and letting gravity take the rest of it to the ground, where it pooled around your feet.

“Fuck,” he breathed. Javi was unable to stop himself; it was as if there was some kind of magnetic pull that had his hand reaching to palm your lace-covered breast. His eyes had darkened, the front of his jeans bulging where he was straining against the zipper. "This is what you've been hiding all night?" he asked, his free palm massaging your other tit.

His reaction made you feel good about your choice of lingerie.

The red teddy covered most of your breasts and down your ribs in sheer lace with laces crisscrossing from one side to the other on the front and back to keep the pieces together; the best part about it, and what you knew was Javi’s favorite part, was the fact nothing was covering your crotch or ass—it was put on like a one-piece swimsuit, your legs going through two thin straps, with the rest of the bottom completely bare.

There was a similar teddy you owned in a pretty plum color that covered more of your skin in lace.

"Yes," you answered. "Do you like it?"

His gaze met yours, and he stepped into your space, his big hands going around to grab your bare backside.

He was smirking with his eyebrow raised. "Do I like it?" he rasped. Javi squeezed your ass. "You know I fucking love it, mi amor (my love)." His lips met yours, kissing you quickly before he ended it with a playful nip to your bottom lip, pulling his head back to look at you. "You're so fucking sexy—Christ, I want you so fucking bad."

Your hands slid up his chest to caress his cheeks, smiling at him.

"I have another surprise for you..." you said.

His eyes rounded. "There's more?" he asked.

You booped him on the nose with your finger. "Yep," you answered. "You're getting spoiled tonight."

"You don't need to spoil me."

"Um, yes, I do. It's your special day. Plus, you spoiled me on my birthday by letting me tie you up and edge you—this is me making sure your night is just as wonderful." You poked him over his pec.

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles as he smiled. "Happy fucking birthday to me."

"Yes, now, pants off, mister,” you ordered. “I don't want you coming in them." The sentence was punctuated with a wink.

What you said made him chuckle. "Yes, ma'am."

Stepping back from him, his hands went to the front of his jeans to quickly get them off. His belt clinked as he worked it open, hearing the teeth separate when he undid his zipper, the pants getting shoved down his legs, Javi having to do the awkward dance of lifting each foot to tug them off, along with his socks.

Once he was completely naked, he closed the distance between you, his big palms holding your face when he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you hard. You snaked your hand down into the tight space your bodies had created to grab his throbbing cock, the skin velvety soft and hot to the touch, making him moan into the kiss. His hips bucked forward in your grip while you slowly pumped him. His hand massaged your breast and tweaked your nipple through the lace, his other palm tracing along your jawbone, the shell of your ear, and down to your neck, he gently held as you kissed, leaving a trail of fire under your skin.

"Let me show you your surprise," you murmured against his lips.

"'Mmkay," he said and didn't stop kissing you.

It was up to you to break away from him, Javi chasing your mouth when you did, making you grin and press your hand to his chest to softly push him back—his eyes were closed, his lips turned up in a smile, looking so unbelievably happy.

"Adorable," you whispered.

His chest was slightly heaving from his heavy breaths, his lips red and shining from saliva.

"Open those pretty brown eyes, babe,” you told him. “It’s time for your surprise." They blinked open, and he grabbed your waist.

"What is it?" he asked, his head dipping to kiss along the column of your throat. You took one of his hands and slid it behind you over your ass to between your cheeks.

His breath caught in his throat, his face popping up to meet your eyes with a look of surprise.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “Is that…?”

His reaction made you grin even bigger. “A very cute butt plug? Yes, it is.”

The plug was made out of smooth pink-colored glass with a tapered tip and bulbous body, the slender neck making it easy for your tight muscles to wrap around it and hold it in place, the flared base covering your hole shaped into a daisy flower.

As you said, it was very cute and filled you nicely—any time you moved, it had a tingle dancing up your spine, fueling the arousal sparking in your tummy.

His fingers were mapping out the flower, gliding over the petals, his gaze locking onto yours, seeing his cheeks had a lovely pink tint.

"Does this mean what I think it means…?" he asked with hope gleaming in those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his.

"That you can fuck my ass? Yes." You nodded. "I figured the toy would save us some time stretching me out."

He looked beyond delighted. "I am so fucking hard right now—how long have you been wearing it?"

"Since I excused myself at dinner to use the ladies' room—spoiler, I was in there getting this inside me; I brought lube and everything."

He was smiling. "My dirty fucking girl." His hand, not on your ass, came up to cup your cheek. "You kept adjusting in your seat when you got back, I thought you were horny—it's why I kept trying to touch your pussy—confused the fuck out of me that you wouldn't let me."

"I didn't want you to discover the lingerie or accidentally feel the plug."

"I get that now—can I see it?"

"Of course." You kissed him quickly and took a few steps to crawl up onto the bed, your hands and knees sinking into the mattress as you got onto all fours to present your ass to him. Seconds later, his warm palms were grabbing your asscheeks, spreading them.

You looked over your shoulder, and his eyes were glued to your backside.

"It’s so fucking pretty," he mused, rubbing a thumb over the base. “Can I take a picture?”

“Need it for your spank bank collection?”

In his bedside table was a stack of your nude Polaroids he liked to jack off to when the need very rarely arose.

His gaze lifted to yours with a smile. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then go for it.”

He walked away from you to grab the Polaroid camera off his dresser, returning seconds later. One of his hands pushed aside a plump cheek to give him a better visual.

“I fucking love this,” he murmured. The camera flashed, then whirred as it ejected the photo, Javi setting both out of the way on the bed. He was back behind you, staring at what he’d just photographed. “Am I allowed to touch it?” he asked.

"It's your birthday—you get to do whatever the fuck you want to me; mi cuerpo es tu cuerpo (my body is your body)."

He looked you in the eyes.

"I love you so much. I don't know how I got so fucking lucky—you're perfect."

"You're perfect."

His thumb circled around the edges of the glass flower, making you moan when he experimented by pulling it out a little and pushing it back in, loving the stretch—he did it again and again, and, again, Javi leaning his head down to spit on your pussy, the fingers of his other hand spreading it through your slit to rub your clit.

There was no way to stop your gasping moans as the toy was fucking in and out of your tight hole at the same time his hand strummed your bundle of sensitive nerves like a virtuoso—the sensations had your eyes rolling back in your head, the muscles in your abdomen starting to tighten as he built you up, higher and higher.

You had to face forward, your arms giving out, and crossing in front of you to rest your head on them—this was going to end quickly with how fucking good it felt, and you weren’t surprised when your orgasm hit, pleasure washing over you with a loud cry of his name.

Your breaths were ragged, sweat beginning to form on your skin.

“My good girl,” Javi purred. Both of his hands suddenly stopped, and a palm smacked the side of your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp.

"I need to eat your pussy," his voice was deeper and huskier.

Your entire body flattened onto the bed, and you turned on your side to look at him. The words came out hoarse, "How do you want me?"

"We can do anything I want...?" he asked. "Is there, uh, anything you're not in the mood for?"

Your eyebrow lifted. "Aside from my regular things I'm not into, nope—I'm down for whatever you want. What do you have in mind?"

He smirked. "You sitting on my face?"

You smiled. "Of course, you'd wanna drown in my pussy on your birthday."

"Yeah, and, uh—" He scratched at the back of his neck. "—would you wanna suck me off while I did it...?"

With how much you guys fucked, you were pretty sure Javi had put you in every position imaginable, but this request was new. Sitting on his face was something you’d done many times, but adding in having you blow him at the same time had your cunt clenching hard around nothing.

"Um, yes," you answered, nodding your head. "That is definitely something I want to do. Get your cute little ass on this bed and get comfy." You patted the bedding beside you. "I wanna take that perfect mustache for a ride."

Javi chuckled as he got onto the mattress and moved up it to flop over on his back, resting his head on a pillow he fluffed to get cozy. His hard dick was lying against his belly, the tip glossy with precum and dripping into the happy trail of hair on his stomach.

It took him a second to get settled before he tapped his chest, his eyes heavy-lidded and crookedly smiling.

“Get up here, baby—this mustache isn’t gonna ride itself.”

You snorted and started to crawl his way.

"Dork," you said.

"One you love."

"That I do.”

When you got to his side, you swung yourself around to face his feet, getting your leg over his torso to straddle him. Javi gripped your thighs and pulled you back to have your wet pussy hovering over his face, two of his fingers spreading open the lips of your sex.

"So fucking pretty," he murmured. He inhaled deeply. "You smell so good, too."

His cock was in front of you, and you held yourself up with one arm to wrap the fingers of your other hand around his length.

"In case I haven't said it lately," you started, languidly stroking him, "you literally have the prettiest dick I've ever seen.”

It was true.

He did have the prettiest dick you've ever laid your eyes on—at full mast, he was just shy of eight inches, cut, not too thin, but not too girthy, either; it was just the right size that when he was inside you, there was a nice stretch and perfect fullness. On the underside of his shaft, two throbbing veins were crawling up the sides and another along the top you liked to trace with your tongue; licking around the velvety soft ridge at the tip and over his frenulum was a surefire way to drive him crazy and get him to make absolutely delicious noises, and when he was coming, you could feel him get bigger and jerk in your mouth, hand, or cunt. If you were looking, you could see his balls draw up and his cock pulse as he unloaded spurts and spurts of his come.

It was truly a work of art.

“And being in a medical profession,” you continued, “I’ve seen a lot of dicks—95% I wish I hadn't seen."

He snorted. "Thank you—you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of pussy."

"The prettiest pussy?" You didn't mean to sound so surprised. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, the prettiest and the fucking tastiest."

It was evident Javi was done with the conversation by how he tugged your hips down onto his face and began feasting—which was an apt descriptor for how he eagerly dove in and the groans he made that sounded like he was eating the best meal of his entire life.

He licked through your wetness and over the lips of your cunt to get every last drop of your arousal he could find on his tongue; it felt so amazing you forgot for a minute you were supposed to be sucking him off. Gripping him at the base, you took him into your mouth, your head bobbing as you sucked down more and more of him until he was hitting the back of your throat.

His lips wrapped around your perky little clit, and when he sucked, it was like having lightning shock through you from the pleasure, your loud moan muffled by his cock in your mouth—it was hard to concentrate, and you put what little attention you had on the tip of him, licking along the sensitive ridge, pumping the rest of his spit-slick shaft with your palm that twitched, and loving how it made Javi whine.

He tasted salty from the steady leak of precum and clean, the scent of his skin smelling like the body wash he used in the shower. The lingering note coming through was Eucalyptus—woodsy, fresh, minty.

It was embarrassing that you were struggling to give him a basic blow job, doing your best not to get overwhelmed by his determined mouth trying to take you apart piece by piece as he licked, sucked, and tongue fucked you with abandon.

Fire was burning in your tummy and getting hotter with every second that passed. His dick was sliding along your palate to kiss the back of your throat, and you almost choked when he pulled and pushed on the toy in your ass.

It was skating the line of too much, how the plug was moving a little out to stretch your hole and being shoved back in to fill you again—thinking was hard, and you had to come off of him, unable to keep from moaning or stop your limbs from trembling.

“Oh, god,” you whined. “Oh, fuck.”

With how intense it felt, there was no way you could focus on sucking him off. What you could do was continue stroking his length, your hand gliding easily up and down while you were rocketing toward your end from him fucking you with the toy and sucking your clit. Your hips were moving of their own accord, rocking back to help fuck yourself and grind against his mouth.

Sixty-nining sounded fun in theory. The problem you ran into was your fiancé was relentless in wanting to make you come as hard as humanly possible, which made it practically impossible for you to do your part—it was too distracting. The pleasure had consumed all of your thoughts, and you could barely function.

The coil was winding inside you, getting tighter and tighter until it snapped, and euphoria was exploding from your center with a cry of his name, feeling your orgasm throughout your entire body from the tips of your fingers to your toes. Immediately, he shoved his tongue inside your fluttering hole to lick up your release, refusing to let a single drop of your come go to waste, and you could feel and hear his moans as you experienced the aftershocks of your climax.

With how hard you came, your hand paused on him, your upper body dropping, resting your head on his thigh to catch your breath and ride out your high.

Javi stopped behind you, lifting you from his face and inhaling deeply, taking big gasps of air.

"You okay?" his voice was rough.

"Mhmm," you hummed, speaking seeming too hard.

"You need a minute?"

"Mhmm."

"Let go of my dick."

You did as he asked and squeaked in surprise when he pushed you over to fall to the bed on your side.

"Sorry," he said. The mattress jostled, and pained grunts sounded from him, finding yourself seconds later getting wrapped up in his arms with your head on his chest.

“Did it feel good?” he asked and kissed your hair.

“Mhmm.”

“You come so quick with stuff in your ass.”

You smiled, finally finding your words. “You also come quick with stuff in your ass.”

“Yeah, I do—do you want me to fuck you while you’re wearing it?”

“Do you want to fuck me while I’m wearing it?”

“I wanna see how tight it makes you.”

“Uh-huh, and you wanna come in my pussy because you are on a mission to knock me up, and you would hate missing a chance.”

“That’s not all—it helps me last when I fuck your ass.”

“That’s true. It’s basically a medicinal cream pie. You know, earlier this year, they came out with a pill to help men keep it up, and we had a guy come into the ER who’d taken one—which, just so you’re aware,” you sidetracked, “if you have an erection lasting more than four hours, you need to seek medical help, and this dude was at almost six hours with a raging boner.”

He was frowning. “Did it go down on its own…?”

“Nope. A doctor had to use a syringe to remove some of the blood.”

"Jesus Christ, just thinking about that makes my dick hurt."

"Sorry." You rubbed your hand over his pec. "Let's talk about something else."

"Where'd you get the toy?"

A reasonable question, seeing as the closest sex shop was hours away in the big city.

"Okay, remember last month when you, me, Robyn, and Seb—" Sebastián, or Seb, was Robyn's boyfriend and Javi's cousin. "—spent that weekend in San Antonio, and you guys let us have our girls-only spa day while you and Seb went to see that movie about corrupt NSA agents that annoyed the fuck out of you because they got a lot of the government shit wrong, which you explained in excruciating detail to Seb at a bar afterward? Well, after the spa, she took me to a sex shop, and we bought some stuff."

"If you’re gonna make a movie about a government agency, you should do the fucking research,” he grumbled. His tone changed to intrigue, “What else did you buy…?"

"Some flavored lube and fluffy handcuffs. I was super picky about the kind of plug I wanted because you’d be surprised how many people come into the hospital with things stuck in their asses.” A memory made you snort. “Oh my god, so one time, this man came in with probably twenty or so of those bigger marbles? You know, the ones that are about double the size of a regular one? Lodged up his butt. When he was asked how they got stuck in there, he told everyone he was at home, standing on a step ladder, cleaning the cobwebs from the ceiling when he accidentally fell off and onto a container of them—this man stood by his story that instead of the marbles scattering everywhere when he fell on them, they magically made their way inside him.”

“What the fuck?” Javi said in disbelief. “He really thought people would believe he was cleaning without pants on, fell, and marbles just went up his ass? That makes zero fucking sense.”

“People come up with the stupidest lies when they’re embarrassed.”

“Like when you told the hotel staff we were checking out early because my nephew was viciously attacked by a duck?”

“You’re a jerk.” You pinched his nipple, making him flinch and laugh. “You’re just never going to let me live that down, huh?”

He grabbed your hand to kiss your palm. “No—you’re a terrible liar.”

“Rude.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed each of your fingers. “Did you buy anything else at the shop?”

“No, because I wanna go there with you to pick out things we’d enjoy."

He perked up, immediately responding, "We could go next weekend?"

"Shopping the weekend before Christmas? That would be a special kind of hell. Sorry, babe, we'll have to wait till next month." You got your hand free of him and patted his chest.

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. "Fine."

Things needed to get back to being horny, so you threw your leg over his waist and moved to sit on top of him with your knees bracketing his hips. His cock was wet from saliva and hard beneath you, and you leaned forward to kiss him, holding yourself up with your arms on either side of his head—this wasn't a peck on the lips or something chaste; this was a kiss that told him you wanted him. The kind of kiss that had his big hands grabbing onto your behind and groaning into your mouth. A kiss where things quickly heated up, and he was helping you grind your wet cunt over his dick, coating it in your slick. A kiss that turned into desperation for him to be inside you.

“Mmm, need lube,” you said into his lips. Sitting up, you leaned to get under the large, folded, black towel near the edge of the bed to grab the small bottle. You popped the cap, pouring a little bit into your palm before closing it and letting it fall onto the mattress beside you.

“With how huge your dick is,” you started as you lifted your hips up. “There’s no way in hell you’re gonna fit without some help.” Javi’s mouth fell open when you grabbed his cock under you, getting it nice and slick with the strokes of your hand.

His throat bobbed, swallowing. “Good call.” With how his eyes widened for a split second, you knew an idea had come to him. He grabbed your thighs. “Wait,” he said.

Your hand paused. “What’s up?”

“I wanna change positions.”

That had your eyebrows lifting in interest. “Oh?”

He was crookedly smiling. “Hands and knees, baby,” he replied, with a light slap to your hip.

“Oh, hell yeah.” You’d finished lubing him up and quickly moved onto the bed next to him, getting into the position he requested, your hands and slightly spread knees sinking into the mattress. Javi groaned when he flipped over and rose up onto his knees, the bedsprings complaining as he shuffled around to get behind you.

The smartest decision you made when you moved in together was upgrading to a king-sized bed—there was so much room for sexy activities.

Bending forward, he reached to grab the camera and set it in a place where it was easily accessible but not in the way.

He slid his dick through your drenched folds, notching himself at your entrance, his other hand holding your hip.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said. “Okay?”

Looking over your shoulder, you met his eyes that were more black than brown. “Yes,” you answered.

He smiled. “Good girl—ready?”

“Yes, Papí.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes closing for a moment. He looked at you again. “Me vas a matar (You’re going to kill me).”

“If by kill, you mean la petite mort, then yeah, handsome, I’m gonna make you come so hard.” You winked. “Now, stick it in.” You pressed back the tiniest bit to have the tip of him starting to enter you.

“And you call me bossy when I’m horny,” he mumbled.

There wasn’t a chance to respond since moans sounded from the both of you as he slowly started sinking into you, taking his time to let your body adjust to being stuffed with each glorious inch of him until he was buried all the way to the root inside of you.

Full didn’t accurately describe how you felt with the plug in your ass pressing against his thick cock—you were beyond full. You honestly couldn’t believe he was able to fit; you couldn’t believe you were able to take him. It was so overwhelming, it had you whimpering, squeezing your eyes shut.

Javi’s voice came out strained, “Are you okay?”

There was no way you could hold yourself up on your arms with it requiring too much concentration, so you let your upper body fall to the bed, cradling your head with your limbs.

“Yes,” the word was said on a breath.

All of the nerves in your body were aflame, feeling like static was thrumming under your skin. You were okay—you just needed a minute to get used to having both of your holes filled at the same time.

“Okay, baby.” He rubbed a comforting hand along the line of your spine. “Tell me when you want me to move.”

He picked up the Polaroid camera.

“Definitely gonna jerk off to this,” he murmured, and you heard the camera snap the picture and the gears whir to spit it out—he’d taken a photo of himself inside of you while you wore the plug.

The camera and picture were set aside.

There was a question you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “Am I tighter?”

He huffed out a breath. “Feels like you’re choking my dick with that toy in your ass—so, yeah, you’re tighter. You’ll probably cut off the circulation when I make you come, and you squeeze around me.”

Even though it was a struggle to think of anything other than the fullness, he made you worry. “Are you uncomfortable?” you asked. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…”

“Mi amor.” He bent over your back to kiss the hair behind your ear, speaking softly, “I’m okay—I like how it feels. I’m really fucking worried I’m gonna come too fast.”

That made you feel better.

After an ample amount of time had passed for you to get used to everything, you said, “Move.”

He nipped at the shell of your ear, grunting as he straightened. He gripped your asscheeks and slowly dragged his cock halfway out of your sopping cunt before thrusting back in, stealing your breath. His pace started out languid to allow you to adapt to the feeling of him moving inside you, rough sounds rumbling from his chest, his fingers tightening on your flesh.

The plug made it easier for him to rub against all those spots that made fireworks dance behind your eyelids. Sweat glistened on your skin, the pleasure making you dizzy, and even though it had only just begun, you were already on the cusp of falling over the edge—intense was an understatement for how you felt. The heat was growing deep inside you, deeper than it usually did, the muscles in your tummy constricting.

His hips were slowly fucking into you, Javi grunting, and it was like nothing you had felt before—feeling so full and falling apart with every thrust.

“Oh, god, Javi,” you whined. “I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come.”

With how he spoke through clenched teeth, you knew he was fighting for his life not to finish so soon, “Come for me, baby.” He smacked your ass, the pleasurable sting making you clench and his rhythm stutter. “Shit,” he gasped. “You’re so fucking tight—it feels so good.”

It was wet and sticky where you were joined, Javi coaxing wave after wave of arousal from your pussy that soaked his cock and dripped down to coat his balls—his thrusts were loud, squelching sounding every time he pushed in. Moans were escaping your lips while deeper noises ripped from his chest.

Javier wasn’t a tiny guy—just his cock made you feel full, and now you had it pressing into your sensitive walls against a rigid toy that turned up the sense of fullness to a ten and felt so fucking incredible that when he sped up his strokes, you were done for; pleasure erupted from deep in your depths that had your mouth opening in a silent scream and every muscle in your body pulling taut, hearing the man behind you let out a strangled groan as he suddenly stopped moving.

No thoughts could form in your brain, your chest rising and falling hard, your pussy pulsing as you rode out the high. Your ears rang, and you were too out of it to make out what Javi was saying, him sounding like the adults in a Peanuts film; a muted trombone going, ”Wah wah wah.”

A body pressed against your back, feeling hot breaths on your ear.

“Cielito?” he whispered.

“Mhmm?” you hummed.

“You okay, mi amor?”

“Mhmm,” you answered and gave him a thumbs up.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

The words slurred from your mouth, “Yes, please. I want you to come.”

“Okay. If it gets to be too much, tell me.” He kissed your hair, a pained sound leaving him as he moved up on his knees again.

Each time you’d done anal in the past, he’d made you come so many times you ended up passing out afterward. This time, though, the orgasms had been much stronger, and it was already hard to keep your eyes open—there was a chance if you had another, it was going to put you to sleep, and you knew Javi wouldn’t care, but you felt bad about possibly needing a little nap before he had a chance to fuck your ass.

“Javi?” you said.

“Yes, baby?” His palms slid along your sides from your waist to just below your ribs.

“I’m sorry if I fall asleep…”

He sounded confused. “Why are you apologizing for that…?”

“Because I know you’re super excited my ass is up for grabs tonight, and I feel bad I might have to make you wait while I take a little snooze.”

“Cielito, mi amor, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry, baby. I’m gonna tell you something that might surprise you.”

“What’s that?”

“Getting to fuck your pussy like this is better than fucking your ass.”

That surprised you so much that your eyes popped open, and you almost couldn’t believe him, except you knew he wasn’t lying since he was always truthful with you. Your knees were still under you with your butt up in the air, and Javi nestled all of the way inside you, your chest pressed to the mattress. You twisted your upper body to look back at him.

His forehead was shiny with sweat, his hair sticking wetly to it, a beautiful flush rising from his chest up to his cheeks, his darkened eyes meeting yours.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

His eyebrow arched. “Yeah? Why would I lie? Think about it—the plug makes your pussy so fucking tight, and I get to come in it.” He put it into plainer terms, “You’re tighter than hell, and I could knock you up.”

“Oh, you’re having the best time.”

He smiled. “I’m having the best fucking time.”

“You like the plug?”

“I love the plug. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, makes me come harder.”

“Then stop feeling bad.” He slapped your ass, and it made you tense, his mouth going slack and eyes closing at you clenching around his dick. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed, his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “It’s okay if you pass out,” he said. “I might pass out, too.”

He pulled himself almost all of the way out of your cunt, and pushed back in, the fullness making your head spin and pleasure simmer in your belly. He was definitely going to get you off again, and you no longer worried about what would happen when you did.

He was going to come, and it'd only been—he looked over at the red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table—eight fucking minutes since he first put his dick inside her, or more accurately, worked his dick inside her.

Javier knew it was going to be a tight fit, but what he hadn't expected was it feeling like when he pressed into her ass: the ring of muscle squeezing him hard as he fed himself into her. With the addition of the plug, there was the same tightness, yet it wasn't only at the opening; it extended further into her, massaging his cock with her hot, tight, velvety walls. He was balancing on a razor's edge to not blow his load, and her coming didn't help with how it made her pussy strangle his dick to the point it was toeing the line of being painful.

He was in heaven.

And when he made her come again, he knew she was going to take him with her.

He was rock hard, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest, and skin coated in a thin layer of sweat—Javier was wound up so tight, a ball of tension had formed in his gut that was threatening to burst; she said the toy made her come harder, and it looked like it was going to be the same for him.

His fingers dug into the soft skin on her hips, sliding himself in and out of her wet heat and having to take a big, calming breath, slowly letting it out to get himself under control and focus on not finishing so quickly.

Shifting his gaze down, he could see his cock covered in her juices, glimmering under the lights of the room before sheathing it back inside of her, and the pretty, pink glass flower covering her asshole. He was so sensitive from being close to losing it, the pressure from the toy's solid body and the warmth of her were driving him crazy and making him throb.

He increased the speed of his movements, gritting his teeth, her sounds spurring him on. He wanted to make her come once more, but he didn't have much time with the pleasure welling up in him and growing with every passing second.

His hand gripped her asscheek, his strokes not waning as the fingers of his other hand got ahold of the plug's flared base, pulling on it to stretch her hole until only the tip remained, and slipping it back in, doing that over and over again, and out of sync to his own thrusts.

The way she loudly moaned his name and stretched her arms out in front of her to clutch the bedding with her cheek to the mattress had him twitching inside of her, electricity shocking through his body. Her pussy was pulsating around him, her arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his sack, and he knew she was close.

"You gonna give me one more, Cielito?" he grunted, continuing to fuck her with his dick and the toy. "Does it feel good getting both of your holes fucked?"

"Yes," she gasped. "Oh my fucking god, it feels so good, Javi." Her hands clenched the sheets, her body shaking. "You’re fucking me so good—marry me; put a baby in me." His rhythm faltered for a second at the stab of pleasure in his belly, and he groaned.

The muscles in his groin started contracting, his orgasm imminent, and he tried to hold it off. His hips moved faster, beads of perspiration dripping down his face and the small of his back.

"I will," he panted. "I'll marry you; I'll fuck a baby into you. I'll do anything you ask me to." His eyes were cinched tight, and he was so lost in her that his thoughts were flowing freely from his mouth. "Dime cuándo, y te haré mi esposa (Tell me when, and I'll make you my wife). En cualquier momento, soy tuyo (Any time, I'm yours). Siempre seré tuyo (I'll always be yours). Puedes tener mi apellido (You can have my last name). Seguiré intentándolo hasta que estés embarazada con nuestro bebé (I'll keep trying until you're pregnant with our baby). Serás la madre de mis hijos (You will be the mother of my children). I can't fucking wait—come for me," he ordered. "Give me one more, and my come is yours. I'll pump you full of it. I'll put a baby in you. Come for me," he all but begged.

That was it.

She gasped his name, her body going stiff, and cunt spasming, wringing out his own orgasm—his hips went flush to her ass, burying himself as deep as possible in her depths, the tightly wound ball in his belly snapping hard enough, he fell forward, blanketing her back. The sounds he made were guttural as pleasure seared through his entire being, his cock pulsing and pumping so many spurts of his come he thought it might never end.

His brain went blissfully blank, his body completely lax, his soul possibly leaving him for some seconds since everything went dark, and he couldn't think of a single thought.

When he came to, he was bone tired and on the verge of falling asleep. Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to bring her with him as he moved to lie on his side, her limbs trembling, and he knew she was sleeping when there was no reaction to him removing the toy from inside her; it was tossed onto the bed near them, and then he tugged on the duvet behind him to pull it over their bodies and hugged her close with one arm, pressing his nose into her hair to breathe in her comforting scent, the ring on the hand he was holding causing him to pass out while happily thinking about how pretty soon she’d be his wife.

Time passed as they slumbered, minutes turning into hours. They shifted in their sleep and he woke when the warmth of her front pressed along the line of his spine disappeared, the springs in the mattress softly squeaking as she moved to get off it with a whispered, "Sorry." He heard her walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

He threw the blanket off of him and got out of bed, not caring at all that he was naked as his bare feet took him to the kitchen, where he got two large cups of cold water.

When Cielito came back into the bedroom, she found him standing by the bed chugging one of the glasses, and she joined him to drink her own. He finished before her, setting his empty cup on the nearby bedside table and taking some steps to end up behind her, wrapping his arms around her lingerie-covered middle. His lips met the side of her neck, kissing up it to nibble on her ear.

She hummed in appreciation, resting her free hand on one of his arms. She swallowed her drink of water. "Did you have a good time, baby?" she asked.

He spoke softly in her ear, "Yes."

Her fingers slid along his arm.

"Good. Are you up for another round, or do you wanna shower, and we can cuddle on the couch and watch something?"

Truth be told, he was exhausted from how eventful the last four days had been, and he didn't think he had the energy to go again—he was drained, and his dick was starting to ache from using it so much in Miami.

"Shower and couch," he answered, kissing a spot behind her ear. Her hand came up to press her fingers into his hair, and it made him shiver.

"Sounds good. Let me finish my water, and then we can go get clean."

"Thank you for today." He was peppering kisses along her shoulder now.

"You're welcome, babe. I'm happy you enjoyed it."

"I loved it."

"I love you."

"I know. I love you, too—I love you so fucking much."

"Same."

Forty-five minutes later, they were clean and changed—Javier was wearing his grey sweatpants, and his future wife was in a faded, thinned, oversized purple t-shirt and her underwear. She was sitting on the kitchen counter beside him eating a grilled cheese while he made his own sandwich on the stove.

At dinner, he noticed she didn’t eat much, and when he quietly asked if she was feeling okay, she told him she was fine and just not very hungry, which turned out to be a dirty fucking lie with how her stomach loudly grumbled on their way to take a shower. So, the first thing he did after they were dressed was feed her; she tried to fight him that it was his birthday and she should be cooking for him, and he responded by telling her it was his birthday and he wanted to make her something to eat. She agreed to grilled cheese sandwiches, and he had to sit her ass on the counter and tell her not to move in order to keep her from trying to help him.

“This is the best grilled cheese I have ever had in my entire life,” she said around the food in her mouth.

He huffed out a breath, flipping the sandwich in the pan with a black plastic spatula. “You’re only saying that because you’re fucking starving,” he replied.

She swallowed. “Lies—it’s the world’s best. You could win awards for how good this is.” Half of her sandwich was already eaten, and she took another bite.

Javier set the plastic utensil onto the counter on his other side and stepped to have himself standing between her legs. He rubbed his palms up her bare thighs, kissing her forehead. “I’m glad you like the sandwich, Cielito,” he said, looking at her. “Do you want me to make you another?”

She was chewing and shook her head, swallowing. “No, thank you. One is enough.”

“I can cut up some fruit? We got enough today at the grocery store for me to make you a fruit salad?”

Her hand pressed to his cheek, her gaze turning soft, and he leaned into her palm. “I’m okay, Javi,” she said. “This one sandwich is enough.”

He frowned. “You told me you were fine at the restaurant and not very hungry, but that wasn’t true, mi amor. I know it was because of the sex tonight—”

“Birthday sex,” she interrupted. “Birthday sex is special and worth going a little hungry for.” “I disagree with that…” His sandwich was finished, and he moved back to the stove, sliding it directly from the pan and onto a waiting plate next to the spatula.

“What do you mean you disagree with that?” she asked.

He put the pan on one of the cold back burners and switched off the stove, returning to his spot in front of her. His eyes were on hers, smoothing his hands along her thighs and under her shirt to hold her hips. “I mean that we’re trying to have a baby, and I don’t like the idea of you not eating enough for yourself and our child just so we can fuck.”

“Oh.” Her attention went to her lap.

“In the future, eat as much as you need—do something light if you’re really worried.” He lifted her chin with his finger to look at him. “Can you promise me that, Cielito? Can you do that for me so I won’t worry?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Thank you.” He slotted his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly. When they separated, he asked, “Another sandwich or fruit?”

“Fruit, please,” she answered. “Can you do it with Tajín and chamoy like the fruit cart?”

She was talking about the fruit cart on the side of one of the busier streets downtown where you could get freshly cut fruits like mango, jícama, papaya, and watermelon, and they did vasos de frutas (fruit cups) similar to the street vendors in Mexico; cups filled with a variety of cubed fruits and topped with Tajín (a powder made of chile, lime, and salt), and chamoy (a thick sauce made out of pickled fruit like mango, plums, and apricot that was mixed with spicy chiles, and a salty brine—it’s a tasty mixture that was sweet, spicy, salty, and sour).

The combined ingredients created a refreshing snack that perfectly balanced the sweet, tangy, and spicy flavors.

He smiled. “Of course, mi amor.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before making his way to the fridge to start getting out the fruits.

She hopped off the counter after she finished her sandwich to stand next to him, holding up his grilled cheese for him to take bites of while he chopped the fruit and chatting with him about random things on her mind.

They were sitting on the couch, her legs on his lap, and had just finished their vasos de frutas (fruit cups), which ended up being tazones de frutas (fruit bowls) while they watched the first Jurassic Park movie. His empty bowl was on the coffee table in front of them, his hands busy gliding over her legs and thighs. She leaned forward to set her dish down beside his as Dr. Malcolm discussed the moral implications of the island's scientists only caring about what they could and couldn't do and not if they should. Cielito moved to get up, and his face lifted toward hers.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Her eyes met his. "First, I'm gonna go put the bowls in the sink." She bent to pick up one in each hand and straightened. "Then I need to go grab something."

"What do you need, and I'll get it?" He started to stand, wanting to help so they could get back to cuddling quicker.

"Nope,” she said, and he stopped. "I'll get it. You just sit there and keep looking pretty." She smiled.

He frowned. "Okay."

She left the room, and he couldn't pay attention to what was on the television, instead listening to her rinsing the bowls out in the kitchen sink, followed by her footsteps as she made her way back through the living room, his head turning to watch her on her journey into the bedroom where she disappeared from view.

He wondered what she needed—maybe she wanted to paint her nails and had to choose a color of nail polish. Or she was going to get the stuff for face masks, which was something he enjoyed; his skin hadn't looked this good since he was in his early twenties.

"I'll be out in a minute, babe," she called from the other room. "I need to check the message on the answering machine."

"Take your time," he replied, hoping she didn't.

The fingers of his right hand were tapping absentmindedly on his knee.

His gaze went up to the clock on the wall, seeing it was a little after eleven, his eyes following the big hand as it ticked away each second.

Tick, tick, tick.

A whole minute passed before she returned to him, his eyebrows pulling together at her frowning face.

"Who called?" he asked.

"My mother."

That explained it.

"What did she want?"

"She said she had some exciting news and needed to talk to me about something important."

"Any idea what either could be...?"

A long, drawn-out sigh left her. "Yeah, most likely it's to tell me my brother's wife is pregnant again—they've been trying for months."

She found out they started trying the night he first told her he loved her. His face relaxed, understanding now that she was upset by the possible news.

He rose from the sofa and went to her in three steps, wrapping her in his arms to hold her close. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "It'll be us telling people the same news soon—they just had a head start. Don't let it get you down, okay? Everything is okay. We're okay. We’re happy, and that’s all that fucking matters."

He felt her relax in his hold.

"You're right—they've had more time."

He pulled back to look at her, smiling softly.

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure I can knock you up in the same amount of months. Hell, maybe I'll be so fucking good at it that I’ll get you pregnant with twins."

That made her giggle, and her mouth turned up in his favorite smile.

"You're ridiculous," she said. "It's not a competition."

"It is now—we're gonna beat their time."

She playfully rolled her eyes.

"I love you, you goober." She kissed him, and when she broke away, there was a serious look on her face. "Let's stick to one baby for my first pregnancy, please."

"That's not how it works..." he said slowly. "It's a gamble, Cielito."

"Yes, I know that Javier, but let's not put the idea out into the universe."

"Okay—un bebé (one baby). That's all I'll wish for or whatever the fuck."

"Even though I know you're being a lying liar who lies because you'd be beyond happy if there was more than one baby—“ That was true; he’d love getting two babies for the price of one. “—I appreciate the thought. Now, enough about me. You need to open your birthday present."

His face scrunched in confusion. "Didn't I do that when I took off your clothes…?"

"That was only the sexy birthday present. I also got you an actual present."

He was so worried about her that he hadn’t realized she was holding something. She held up a rectangular gift wrapped in solid, bright red wrapping paper.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said. “Today was perfect.”

“Sure, but as I told you when you were undressing me, you’re getting spoiled tonight. Please open this. I’m nervous about it.”

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking it from her.

“Because I put a lot of time into it, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it, but there’s a chance it’ll make you sad.”

That had him curious. He stepped away and grabbed her hand to lead her to the couch, pulling her down to sit beside him.

It wasn’t too heavy or light, and when he felt it, it was firm. He thought it might be a book. Tearing open the wrapping paper, he discovered it was actually a maroon-colored leather-bound photo album.

He glanced over at her.

“We have our photo album of us we put together. What’s this one?”

He asked the question even though he had an idea of what it could be.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Open it, and you’ll see.”

He did as he was instructed, and his breath caught in his throat—the first picture was of him as a newborn being held by his mother in a hospital bed. His birth hadn’t been the easiest, and the exhaustion was clear on her face, yet she was grinning. The next photo was in the same spot, but this time, she was gazing at him in her arms with a look that showed she was in love and unbelievably happy. His eyes started watering, turning to the next page to find more pictures of newborn him and his mom now taken at home. All the pages after that featured the same thing: it was always just him and his mom. Some of the photos he’d seen in other albums his father had, there were many, though, that this was the first time he’d come across them.

He lost count of how many were of them in the kitchen, seeing them both age through the years and him doing more to help her as he grew.

There was one where he was maybe three, standing on a dining room chair with his mother beside him as he used a tortilladora (tortilla press) on the table to flatten tortillas, one perfectly done on the plate. His face was turned up toward her with a toothy grin, and she was gazing upon him fondly and clearly proud—it was the first time he had made a tortilla.

He was maybe six in another, using a stool in order to reach the stove with her watching from behind him as he stirred a giant pot he knew had the sauce for her tamales—it was the first time she walked him step by step on how to make them, and it reminded him of something she said that day: “Un día, tu esposa hará esta receta y necesitas poder ayudarla, así que presta atención, Javiercito (One day, your wife will make this recipe and you need to be able to help her, so pay attention, Javier).” And she was right. He had used what she taught him to help his wif-fiancée make her tamales. He even showed Cielito some of the techniques his mother used to make the process easier.

His father had captured a lot of wonderful moments, including one when he had to be about ten with how he’d shot up in height and was almost as tall as his mother—they had matching grins and were mid-dance in the kitchen, her left hand held in his right and their arms around each other’s backs.

So many memories came back to him of times they spent together, and there was even a picture of the last time they made a tres leches cake for his birthday, both laughing about something he couldn’t remember, and it made him smile at how happy they looked.

The final photo was of him in his senior year of college after a swim meet. He’d changed back into his clothes—some jeans and a baby blue button-up shirt, his hair still wet, and a gold medal around his neck. His mother was embracing him from the side, her head barely reaching his shoulders, Javier hugging her back; big smiles were on their faces, and happiness was shining in their matching chocolate-colored eyes as they looked at the camera.

Seeing all of the sweet moments they shared already had him on the verge of tears, and this one broke him, knowing it was his last competition before he met Lorraine—his shoulders shook with sobs as he let himself cry.

The album only contained the memories of before his life went to shit—when he was on track to make his dream of swimming in the Olympics come true, his mother was still alive, he hadn’t hurt his parents with his bad choices, and life was good and still made sense.

“Oh, Javi,” Cielito’s voice was soft, and he welcomed her arms that enveloped him. “I’m so sorry—I worried it’d upset you. I shouldn’t have made this. I’ll take the pictures back to Pop’s.” She reached for the album, and he held it away.

“No,” he said through the tears, his words coming out gravelly. “It’s perfect—I love it.” Closing the book, he set it on the coffee table in front of them before he twisted his body to pull her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. Her hands were rubbing soothingly over his back. “Thank you,” his muffled voice said, tears wetting her skin. “Thank you for making it—it brought back so much happy shit I’d forgotten.”

“You really love the album?” she asked.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes and nodded with a little smile. “Yeah, it really is perfect. You wanna know something?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait to show it to our kids one day.” Her face brightened. “I know you’ll probably cook with them, and they’ll love seeing photos of their abuela (grandma) and papá (dad) doing the same.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely cooking with our kids,” she said, and it had warmth spread through his veins. “Your dad let me go through the boxes, plural, of loose photos he has—side note, I have never seen so many, and I’m pretty sure he’s single-handedly keeping the one-hour photo kiosk in business.”

“Probably,” he chuckled.

Growing up, whenever his father wasn’t working out on the ranch, he was spending time with Javier and his mom, and it was pretty typical for Chucho to get out his camera or video camera to snap pictures or record whatever they were doing—his dad was a sentimental guy. With Javier being his only child, he wanted to ensure they documented as much as possible to look back on fondly.

“Anyways,” she continued. “I went through hundreds, maybe even thousands of photos, and in every single one of you with your mom in the kitchen, you both look so fucking happy, and then add in that some of your favorite memories are cooking with her, and I want that for our babies, too. I want them to have happy memories of learning to cook with their mom and dad.”

His vision was blurring with unshed tears, feeling so unbelievably happy he might combust.

“You want me there, too?”

“Um, yes, Javi. As your mother would say, ‘Eres mi buena suerte (You’re my good luck).’ You gotta be there to at least take a ton of pictures.”

He was smiling. “I’d love that.”

“Good.” She kissed him, just a press of her lips to his, and it wasn’t enough; he deepened it with a swipe of his tongue along her bottom lip, and when she granted him access by opening her mouth a little, he was delving inside to tangle their tongues.

He didn’t know how he got so lucky finding her—she was perfect. Somehow, she made him fall more in love with her with each passing day.

Hearing her say she wanted their children to experience the same happiness he did with his mother had him feeling over the moon and even more excited about them starting their family—she was going to be an incredible mom to their kids, and it filled him with joy knowing, without a doubt, they’ll get to grow up like him with parents who will not only love them more than anything but each other to the point their children will be disgusted by their open affection. Their kids were going to have happy childhoods where they knew they were loved and cherished and got nothing but encouragement for their dreams. It would be drastically different than how Cielito was raised, and that was what she wanted; she couldn’t fathom treating her children the same way her parents treated her. There wouldn’t be one kid who was loved more than another, and they definitely were going to be proud of their babies no matter what. She was breaking a cycle of neglect and impossible standards to ensure their children only knew love and acceptance.

Their breaths were coming out heavier when their mouths detached.

She smiled, the sentence coming out breathy, “Happy birthday, Javi.”

He shared her look. “Thank you for making it amazing—made me almost forget I’m old now.”

She huffed in exasperation. “You turned forty, Javi. You’re not old. If it makes you feel any better, I’m happy to report you’ve still got a bangin’ bod and continue being a sex god.”

“You’re calling me a sex god again?” His eyebrow rose.

“I never stopped calling you a sex god, and let’s look at the facts:” She held up one finger. “Stamina of someone in their twenties.” The next digit went up. “The experience of a forty-year-old that’s spent a lot of time fucking.” Another finger rose. “Makes his partner come every time.” The next digit extended. “Actually knows how to use his mouth and fingers.” The final finger went up. “Has the biggest and prettiest dick known to man—face it, babe, you’re a bonafide sex god; I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a statue of you in some sex temple somewhere.”

His chest had puffed out a little from her praise, and what she said made him snort, Javier, smiling. “What is it with you and statues of me?”

She pushed his bangs off of his forehead. “Um, did you not hear the part where I said you have a bangin’ bod and the biggest and prettiest dick known to man? You’d make a sexy statue—hotter than Prince Eric’s, and that’s saying something.” Both of her hands came up to hold his face as she stared him in the eyes. “What you should get from this is I find you exceptionally attractive and want to have your babies, and I’ll still find you exceptionally attractive and want to have your babies next year, and the year after that and the year after that; you get the picture. Basically, I do not give a single fuck about how old you are because you are aging like the finest wine, sweetcheeks, and I am so unbelievably horny for you.”

From the way she was looking at him, he knew she was telling the truth, and it made him feel some relief. He’d been dreading this day, and he was starting to realize there was no reason to—he was older and wiser, engaged to marry the most amazing woman on the planet, in the process of starting his family, working a job he didn’t hate, and he was back home, where he belonged (even if some of the townspeople thought otherwise). He was happy, truly happy, and yeah, it wasn’t an easy journey, and it took him a while to get to this point, but he made it, and that was all that fucking mattered.

Mondays were the worst.

Mondays after a lovely vacation were the worst of the worst.

Honestly, it should be illegal having to go back to work on a Monday after being away. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, so here you were sitting at the nurse's station desk, a bit past ten in the morning, notating a chart, and nervously waiting for your first break that was in—you glanced at the watch on your wrist—five minutes.

"Still nervous?" Came the Texas twang of your coworker/best friend, Robyn, who pulled out the rolly chair beside you and sat down.

Her long, chestnut curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and she looked ready to model with how perfectly she’d done her makeup; firetruck-red lipstick was coating her full lips, her big blue eyes accentuated with an outline of black mascara and eyeliner, her cheeks rosy, and face blemish free without being caked in foundation and concealer—she could be on the cover of the American Journal of Nursing magazine with her being in her blue scrubs.

Your head turned her way, frowning. "Yes, because I know, in my bones, it's not gonna go well."

She gave you a reassuring smile and put her hand on your arm. "And that's why you're doin’ it on your fifteen-minute break. It gives you a time limit, and havin’ to get back to work is a great excuse to end things."

You weren't convinced. "I guess..."

"I'm sorry, girl, but this is somethin’ you have to do and it'll be better to just rip off the bandaid."

"Maybe I'd prefer to keep the bandaid on and continue living in my perfect little bubble with the love of my life."

"Because the bubble is goin’ to burst one way or another, and at least this way, you're in control."

"I really don't want to do this…" you said truthfully. It had you feeling a little sick.

"I know, girl." She patted your forearm. "I can't promise it'll go well, but just remember you've got Javi and me for support, and you know as well as I do that man will up and leave work without a word to come here for you."

"That's true. He, uh, doesn't know..."

The other woman's eyebrows dipped. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"It's Javi—he'd worry too much and wouldn't be able to work. Now that we're doing this whole baby thing and getting married soon, it's like his caveman instincts have turned up to the max, and he's in protection mode 24/7. So, he's not going to find out about what's going on until after it happens."

"If you think that's best." Her eyes went to her wristwatch. "Looks like it's time." She met your gaze. "Go do it in the on-call room so you'll have some privacy."

You took a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering nerves in your belly. "Okay," you said as you pushed back in your chair to get up. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, you better come to get me."

She smiled. "That was the plan."

"You're the best."

The closest on-call room wasn't anything more than a small windowless room with a twin-size bed and a desk with a lamp and telephone atop it. The overhead light was on, and you'd locked the door upon entering, taking a seat at the desk. Picking up the phone's receiver, you pressed it to your ear, your other hand punching in the string of numbers from muscle memory, and hardly any thought.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hello?" the familiar voice answered.

This was it. "Hi, Mom, it's me."

"Oh, good, you got my message. I was expecting your call yesterday."

"Sorry, it was Javi's birthday, and we went out to dinner to celebrate."

Her voice went tight. "I see... Remind me again how old he turned?"

"Forty."

"Forty years old, and he doesn't own a house or have a career? When your father turned forty, he was already the chief of surgery and had invented a procedure, but I guess they're two different men from two different backgrounds."

Your jaw clenched. "I don't appreciate you belittling the man I love, who had a very successful career in the DEA and helped take down Pablo fucking Escobar and the Cali Cartel before he was forty—but please, go on about his ‘lack of career,’ and how he doesn’t measure up to Dad in your eyes; I’d be more than happy to end this call right now.”

The older woman sighed. “I’m just looking out for your best interests, but since it’s a sore subject, I won’t talk about him at all.”

The ‘best interests’ excuse made you roll your eyes so hard they were at risk of getting stuck in the back of your head.

"Fine—what's the exciting news you have?"

"Oh, yes," her tone shifted, hearing her excitement. "Your brother is having another baby, and it's a boy!" You fucking knew that was why she called, and you didn’t have it in you to be excited, not when the same news from you would have a vastly different reaction. "Your father and I are so excited to have another grandson," she continued. "I can't believe how blessed we are to have three grandchildren, a fourth on the way, and they’re all boys!"

"God forbid they had a girl," you mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I said, wow, that's great," you spoke normally. "Well, give them my congratulations, and if that was all you wanted to tell me, I'm going to get back to work—I'm on break."

Yes, you were chickening out on telling her about your engagement.

"That isn't the only exciting news!"

"Yay, there's more," you deadpanned.

“If your father was home, he could give you more information, but his hospital is going through some staffing changes, and he got you a job to be the director of nursing—you can finally move back home!"

Um, what?

He got you a job you never even asked for or wanted?

The audacity of them doing this behind your back in an attempt to lure you home had stunned you into silence, anger threading through your chest and tummy.

"Are you still there?" she asked.

"I don't want a new job," you said calmly.

"You don't know what you're saying, sweetie. This would make you the head of the nursing program at his hospital and is much better than whatever it is you’re currently doing. You’d make substantially more than what you are right now, and it brings you closer to us, your family—it’s about time you come home, anyway. You’ve been away long enough and haven’t been making the best decisions.”

Tears were burning in your eyes at the blatant disregard for your feelings.

"I'm not leaving Laredo."

She sighed again. "What does that backwater town have to offer you? That hospital you're working for can't compete with what your father’s hospital is willing to pay, and there isn’t anything there worth staying for or tying you down—thank god you've been smart and haven't done anything stupid like get pregnant."

She managed to insult Javi and the life you built without outright saying the words, and it pissed you off how fucking rude she was in regards to your future husband—she could say whatever she wanted about you and the way you were living, but you wouldn’t stand for such vitriol toward your fiancé.

"I'm getting married,” you blurted.

Her line went completely silent, and you thought she might’ve hung up until she said, “I’m sorry. I think I misheard you. What did you say?”

“Javi proposed—we’re getting married, and that isn’t the only exciting news; we’ve started trying for a baby.” Informing people that you were getting fucked raw and filled like a Boston cream donut on the regular made you wish the earth would completely swallow you up so you didn’t have to feel such embarrassment; it being socially acceptable to openly discuss your sex life when it had to do with procreation would never make any sense to you.

“I know Javier doesn’t meet your standards,” you continued, “however, he more than meets mine, and I wish you could see how incredible he is and how happy he makes me, but the only things you care about is the amount of money in his bank account and career choice; which, again, people all over are aware of who The Javier Peña is because of the work he did with the DEA. He was a hot commodity when he returned to the States, and agencies all over the country were trying to bag him.

“Just because he’s not in the same tax bracket as you,” you kept speaking, “and he can’t buy me a big mansion we don’t even need, doesn’t make him any less of a person. Honestly, he’s better than you—he’s better than you. He’s better than Dad, and he’s definitely better than that golden child you worship, who couldn’t even make it into his Ivy League school without you buying his way in. Javi got a full-ride scholarship to his dream university because of how talented he was at swimming,” you said proudly.

“My fiancé is an amazing man who treats me like a queen and will be the best father to our children. Now, let’s circle back to your question about what Laredo has to offer me—the answer is everything. Laredo has everything I could ever need or want. The man I’m marrying and the future father of my kids is here. I have a family here—a real family that loves me. I have friends and a great job here. This is the place where I’ll raise my children and grow old with my soulmate. This is my home and where I’ve always belonged. So, thank you, but no, thank you for such an amazing job offer I didn’t ask for. I’m not leaving Laredo—you’re just gonna have to get used to the fact that Javier and I are a package deal and that he’ll be your son-in-law one day and the father of your grandchildren. If you can’t stomach that, then don’t ever call me again because Javi means more to me than anyone else in the entire universe.”

Silence.

Many seconds passed before she spoke.

“You’re sure he’s the one…?” she asked slowly.

“Yes, one hundred percent.”

“You don’t care about how much money he has because he makes you… happy…?”

She made it sound like a foreign concept, and you huffed in amusement.

“I know, it’s crazy to fall in love with someone for them and not their money.”

“This is what I get for allowing you to watch those cartoon fairytale movies when you were a child. Your ideas of what’s important in life have been skewed by fictional nonsense, and you failed to notice at the end of those films, the girls become princesses—rich—when they meet their princes and finally get their—what was it?—happily… happily…” She was struggling.

“Their happily ever afters?” you said.

“Yes, that’s it! They only got their happily ever afters once they became princesses, and you should strive to want that kind of status or meet a man who will give it to you.”

“Weird take, but to me, they get their happily ever afters when they meet their one true loves, and the fancy titles are just bonuses.” You shrugged even though she couldn’t see you.

She let out a sigh. “You need to understand that real life isn’t like those whimsical cartoons. You might think you’re in love right now, but you haven’t even known this man for a year. How do you know if you will feel this way about him a year from now? Or two years? There’s no guarantee that your relationship will last, and you’re throwing away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to advance your career and make a name for yourself because you’re infatuated and living in some dream world.”

“I am in love, and it’s the real thing. What you’re not understanding is my career is secondary to my happiness. I care more about being happy than making money, and I’ve made my choice that I’m going to marry Javi because he makes me happy—get it through your head that he isn’t going anywhere.”

“Very well, if that’s your decision, then so be it.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you answer a question about Javier?”

“Uh, depends on what you’re going to ask...”

“He helped take down Pablo Escobar and that other cartel, which wouldn’t have been small feats. I’m assuming a lot of opportunities would’ve opened up to him within his agency, and he was probably on track for promotions. Why did he quit when he was at the height of his career?”

You smiled. “Because he decided his career was secondary to his happiness, and he cared more about being happy than advancing in a job he’d grown to hate.”

“Oh.”

“You know, he only went to work for the Sheriff here, so I wasn’t the sole provider in our relationship—he makes decent money, too, and tries to pay more than his fair share. He took the job to be able to take care of me, and if I couldn’t work, we’d be more than okay on just his salary.”

“Really?” She didn’t attempt to hide her surprise.

“Yes—someone with Javi’s expertise is paid handsomely to consult. He’s gotten a ton of offers to do paid talks at universities and conferences. He’s actually kind of a big deal in that community.” It was lovely getting to brag about him.

“Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“Because from the moment you found out I was dating him, you were convinced he wasn’t good enough for me, and it seemed like nothing I could say would change your mind.”

“I guess I might have rushed to conclusions…”

“You did.”

“Well, congratulations, honey,” She sounded genuinely happy, not as jazzed as the imminent arrival of another grandson, but happy enough it had you taken aback. “This is exciting! I hadn’t realized things had gotten so serious between you two. Have you picked out a date for the wedding?”

To say you felt thrown off kilter from the complete one-eighty she just made on her views of your relationship would be putting it mildly; you thought there was a chance you were in the Twilight Zone with how bizarre this reaction was.

Did you actually convince her of Javi’s worthiness?

That didn’t seem right…

“Um, no?” you answered.

“I’ll call the wedding planner who helped plan your brother’s, and don’t worry about the cost, we’ll take care of it, along with the wedding itself—we’ll have to look at venues in your town that can hold at least, I think, one hundred and fifty guests, maybe? I’ll also have Jerry—” The family lawyer. “—get a prenup together—I’ll bring him with me.” Uh, what was happening? “Let me look at the calendar.” Pages flipping could be heard over the phone, and you knew she was going through her daily planner. “Your father and I have prior engagements over the next month and a half, but I could visit in February with the wedding planner and Jerry to get started on everything.”

The thought of her visiting had you feeling sick to your stomach, the anxiety hitting you like a bucket of cold water over your head.

“Woah, woah, hold on a second,” you said. “We’re not having a big wedding, so there’s no need for a wedding planner. We’re not doing a prenup, either, so Jerry doesn’t need to be bothered, and we want to get married sometime next month.”

“I won’t sour our conversation with legal talk, so I’ll discuss it with you later—you want to get married that soon?” There was a frown in her voice. "I told you we’re booked next month... We wouldn’t be able to make it…”

“We’re not doing much of a traditional wedding anyway, so you won’t miss much. We can send you a copy of the video—” Javi was planning on buying a camcorder to record your nuptials and other erotic things. “—and maybe in February we could visit you.” That was something you didn’t particularly want to do, but her change in attitude and desire to help seemed like she was extending an olive branch for all of the hurtful things she had said about your future husband.

“That would be fine. We’re dying to meet this man you’re in love with.”

Your eyes narrowed. “The one you didn’t approve of five minutes ago…?”

“You gave me a lot to think about in those five minutes, and I’m doing as you said and accepting that he’s going to be my son-in-law. Am I not allowed to change my opinion of someone?”

“Sure, you can change your opinion. You’re really okay with me marrying him?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

A knock sounded on the on-call room’s door, Robyn’s voice coming from the other side, “Hey, I need you out here.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, but my break’s over, and I need to get back. I’ll talk to you later.”

“No problem. Have a great day, and tell Javier hi from me.”

That will freak him out.

You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, getting up to walk over and open the door.

Robyn was standing there. “How’d it go?” she asked.

“That’s the thing, Robyn, I think it went well, and I’m so fucking confused—I think my mom might even like Javi a little bit now.”

Shock appeared on her face. “Um, what…?”

“Makes zero sense, right?”

“Yeah… You need to call Javi?”

She was the best.

“Would you mind?”

“Nope! I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Thank you!”

This time, when you sat down to use the hospital-provided telephone, you dialed your fiancé’s desk phone from memory.

Ring.

“Peña,” he answered.

“Has hell frozen over?” you asked.

“Cielito?” He was clearly confused.

“Yes, it’s me—let’s focus. Has hell frozen over?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?”

“Are pigs flying?” You heard him roll back in his chair and the rustle of him looking through his office window’s blinds.

“I don’t see any pigs with wings, but that Sheriff’s deputy whose wife won’t let him have red meat so he can lower his cholesterol is in his car eating a burger with the same enthusiasm I have when I eat your pussy.”

“Guy is truly eating it like a man starved—respect. ¿Están volando las vacas (Are the cows flying)?”

“No veo a Daphne ni a Velma en el cielo (I don’t see Daphne or Velma in the sky).” He rolled back to his desk. “¿Qué pasa, mi amor (What’s going on, my love)?”

“I talked to my mom…”

“…are you okay?”

“Um, sure.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He was starting to hang up the phone, and you quickly said, “Javi, no, no! Don’t leave!”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “It wouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s really okay—I’m gonna see you at lunch.”

The plan was to eat the lunches you made together in his truck.

“Okay.” His tone went serious. “Tell me what happened.”

“I called her like she asked, and she confirmed my sister-in-law is with child and talk about the excitement over a fetus having male genitals.”

“Of course, they’re fucking excited it’s a boy, the misogynistic assholes,” he seethed.

“I am so unbelievably in love with you—I know you’d love having a baby girl and getting to dress her up in pretty dresses.”

“God, yeah.” You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. “And giving her cute hairdos and I could paint her nails to match her dresses—wait, we’re getting distracted. Did the news upset you? I really feel like I should come down there...”

“I promise I’m fine, babe.”

“I don’t like that I’m not there for you in person…” He sighed. “Was that all your mother wanted to talk to you about?”

“This next part is really gonna piss you off, so please take a big breath for me, my love.”

You heard him inhale deeply.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“My parents, or father specifically, offered me a job that a person would be insane to turn down to get me to move back home—I didn’t even contemplate for a second about taking it and proceeded to inform her about us getting married and starting our family, then went off about how amazing you are and that this is my home and I wouldn’t be leaving it. I made it very clear that you are the most important person to me, and if they couldn’t accept you as my husband, then I wanted nothing to do with them.”

“…If you want the job, we can move there,” he said carefully.

You smiled. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but I can’t fathom moving away from our family here, especially your dad. This is our home, and I’m happy with the life we have. So, I don’t care about some fancy schmancy job.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

He let out a relieved sigh before he started speaking again, his words soaked in anger, “They hate me so fucking much they tried to give you an offer you couldn’t refuse, so you’d leave me? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t fucking stand these people you share blood with—they don’t even fucking deserve to be called your family with how they disrespect you and don’t give a flying fuck about your happiness.” He had to take another big breath to try to calm his rage. “I might sound like an asshole, but I don’t want them around our kids, and this isn’t me putting my foot down or saying that’s how it has to be; I’m saying that our children’s well-being is my first priority, and these assholes are nothing but poison,” he spat. “I’ll support you if you decide to cut ties with them—hell, I’d love it since it makes me so fucking angry how they’ve treated you and continue to treat you. We’ve got our family here, anyway; Pop and all our tías, tíos, and primos, so you don’t even need those fuckers.” His tone shifted to something softer, hearing in it how much he cared for you. “Cielito, mi amor, all I want is for you to be happy and to feel loved, and I will do everything in my power to make that happen—please, for me, when you decide what to do, you choose what makes you happiest; not what would make me happy and definitely don’t even think about their feelings because they’ve never done the same for you. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

What he said had your eyes getting misty. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

And you knew that was the truth.

“I didn’t tell you the whole story,” you said, “and this is where I get confused about the entire interaction.”

“What happened…?”

“So, I kinda bragged about how much of a hot shot you are in the drug enforcement community and that you make decent money, and I think I somehow made my mom like you? I know it sounds fake, but Javi, she wanted to hire us a wedding planner and pay for the whole event that she was going to invite a hundred and fifty people to…”

You left out the lawyer bit because you were going to nip that in the bud when she got around to talking to you about it.

“Uh, what…?”

“It was fucking weird, babe! She even told me to tell you hi when we were getting off the phone!”

“Me? Are you sure…?”

“Yeah! It makes zero fucking sense. Our conversation started with her basically telling me my life decisions were trash and that there’s nothing in Laredo worth staying for—she actually said she was happy I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant. Like, that’s so fucking rude. Then her tone had completely changed by the end of the call, and she was pro-you and pro-us getting married.”

“Interesting…” You could picture him sitting at his desk, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip while we pieced together the information you’d given him and analyzed it for any indication of more going on.

“Are your Detective Peña senses tingling?” you asked. “Do you think they’re up to something?”

“I’m not sure… But I could just be paranoid about people trying to fuck with our relationship.”

“Oh god, what if we are being paranoid and overthinking this entire thing? We might be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and my family really has warmed up to you.”

He scoffed, “Tal vez cuando las vacas vuelen (Maybe when cows fly),” he muttered. “It seems too good to be true,” he said. “But, there’s a chance hell did freeze over, and Daphne and Velma grew wings.” He sighed. “My hopes aren’t very high, though; at this point, all we can do is see what happens.” He suddenly sounded panicked, “Cariño, ¿los invitaste a nuestra boda (Honey, did you invite them to our wedding)? ¿Tendré que conocerlos en persona (Will I have to meet them in person)?”

Javier Peña had a cute face, a cute face that naturally looked pissed off when it was resting and showed everything he was feeling. There was no doubt that in the presence of your family, his glares would be murderous, and he wouldn’t be able to hide his anger—which, honestly, delighted you. But you hated the idea of them coming to the place you called home and was your haven away from them, so you were never going to invite them to visit; if you had to, you’d go to them.

“Cálmate, mi amor (Calm down, my love),” you said. “No te preocupes (Don’t worry). I didn’t invite them, and I don’t even want them coming here. I did have to say we might visit them in a couple of months to keep them happy—I’m also gonna send my parents that blender my mother wants but refuses to buy because the one they have still works for Christmas. Hopefully, all that will tide them over for a while so we can figure out if their new attitude is legit or not.”

“Good idea.”

“Well, I better get back to work. I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yes, you will. If you need me to get your mind off all this shit, just let me know. It’d take us about the same amount of time to meet at home…”

His offer made you smile. “Javier, is this your way of saying you’d like a nooner?”

“Maybe… I’m on edge and need to calm my nerves, and the best ways to do that is either having a cigarette or fucking—I’m sure you can guess my preference, but it wouldn’t be a big deal if I bummed a smoke off someone.”

“You’re in need of a medicinal cream pie,” you said in understanding, nodding your head. “I am also on edge and could use a medicinal orgasm or two. I’ll see you at the apartment, handsome, and the suit stays on—I’m riding Detective Peña into the sunset.”

You could hear his smile when he spoke. “Is that so?”

“Yep—you’ve been staring at my tits a lot lately, and I thought you’d enjoy them bouncing in your face.”

His groan confirmed your suspicion. “Minimum of two orgasms, keep the suit on, and you’re riding me on the couch—anything I’m missing?”

“Yeah, you coming inside me so I can go back to work all nice and stuffed.”

“Marry me.”

“I am,” you giggled. “We need to figure out a date.”

“January 11. Under the big oak tree on Pop’s land at sunset—that’s when we should do it.”

“Why the eleventh?” you asked, curious about why that date specifically.

“You agreed to be my girlfriend on the eleventh. You agreed to be my fiancée on the eleventh. It only seems right that I vow to love you forever on the eleventh of the New Year and hope you agree to be my wife then—Cielito, mi amor, mi vida mi media naranja, mi todo, (Cielito, my love, my life, my soulmate, my everything), will you marry me in twenty-eight days on January 11?”

Tears brimmed your eyes. “Yes, Javi! Absolutely, yes—it’s perfect.”

“Not as perfect as you,” he smoothly replied.

“You’re a sap.”

“—and your perfect tits.”

“A horny sap,” you laughed.

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[txttletale]

Your discussions on AI art have been really interesting and changed my mind on it quite a bit, so thank you for that! I don’t think I’m interested in using it, but I feel much less threatened by it in the same way. That being said, I was wondering, how you felt about AI generated creative writing: not, like AI writing in the context of garbage listicles or academic essays, but like, people who generate short stories and then submit them to contests. Do you think it’s the same sort of situation as AI art? Do you think there’s a difference in ChatGPT vs mid journey? Legitimate curiosity here! I don’t quite have an opinion on this in the same way, and I’ve seen v little from folks about creative writing in particular vs generated academic essays/articles

i think that ai generated writing is also indisputably writing but it is mostly really really fucking awful writing for the same reason that most ai art is not good art -- that the large training sets and low 'temperature' of commercially available/mass market models mean that anything produced will be the most generic version of itself. i also think that narrative writing is very very poorly suited to LLM generation because it generally requires very basic internal logic which LLMs are famously bad at (i imagine you'd have similar problems trying to create something visual like a comic that requires consistent character or location design rather than the singular images that AI art is mostly used for). i think it's going to be a very long time before we see anything good long-form from an LLM, especially because it's just not a priority for the people making them.

ultimately though i think you could absolutely do some really cool stuff with AI generated text if you had a tighter training set and let it get a bit wild with it. i've really enjoyed a lot of AI writing for being funny, especially when it was being done with tools like botnik that involve more human curation but still have the ability to completely blindside you with choices -- i unironically think the botnik collegehumour sketch is funnier than anything human-written on the channel. & i think that means it could reliably be used, with similar levels of curation, to make some stuff that feels alien, or unsettling, or etheral, or horrifying, because those are somewhat adjacent to the surreal humour i think it excels at. i could absolutely see it being used in workflows -- one of my friends told me recently, essentially, "if i'm stuck with writer's block, i ask chatgpt what should happen next, it gives me a horrible idea, and i immediately think 'that's shit, and i can do much better' and start writing again" -- which is both very funny but i think presents a great use case as a 'rubber duck'.

but yea i think that if there's anything good to be found in AI-written fiction or poetry it's not going to come from chatGPT specifically, it's going to come from some locally hosted GPT model trained on a curated set of influences -- and will have to either be kind of incoherent or heavily curated into coherence.

that said the submission of AI-written stories to short story mags & such fucking blows -- not because it's "not writing" but because it's just bad writing that's very very easy to produce (as in, 'just tell chatGPT 'write a short story'-easy) -- which ofc isn't bad in and of itself but means that the already existing phenomenon of people cynically submitting awful garbage to literary mags that doesn't even meet the submission guidelines has been magnified immensely and editors are finding it hard to keep up. i think part of believing that generative writing and art are legitimate mediums is also believing they are and should be treated as though they are separate mediums -- i don't think that there's no skill in these disciplines (like, if someone managed to make writing with chatGPT that wasnt unreadably bad, i would be very fucking impressed!) but they're deeply different skills to the traditional artforms and so imo should be in general judged, presented, published etc. separately.

[maniculum]

200 13th-Century Names

I've made a thing and thought others might be able to get some use out of it. If you just want the d100 tables, scroll down to the cut and skip my rambling as to what this list is. Short version, it's a d100 table of male names and a d100 table of female names, taken from 13th-century English records and trimmed to minimize names that were used within the last 140-odd years.

While working on my Dungeon23 project (updates collected here, by the way), I was looking for names for my NPCs, and stumbled upon the Henry III Fine Rolls as a source. This is a digitization and indexing of records from 13th-century England that include a lot of personal names. It contains references to a database they made that sorts these names by popularity and other factors, but the database apparently hasn't been maintained, because it's gone. For a while, I was just picking names from articles about that database, but I started to worry I was going to run out (due to my tendency to name any corpses of dead adventurers in the dungeon just in case someone likes to cast speak with dead). So I went to their index of names, which is great if you're looking for a specific person, but not useful if you just want a list of personal names, and decided to use their data to make a couple d100 tables for myself.

I went through the index and typed all the names into a spreadsheet. Then, to give the list a more medieval feel, I sorted them by how often they appeared in the Social Security Administration's data on baby names. (I know that's a bit US-centric, but to my knowledge there is no global database to use for this purpose.) Then I removed all the ones that appeared most often on the baby names list -- I figured if you were rolling on a table of medieval names, you'd be a bit disappointed if you got "John" or "Mary". (Incidentally, the following names appear both in the Fine Rolls and on the SSA's list of the top 10 (male and female, so 20 actually) baby names for 2021: Emma, Oliver, James, Ava, William, Isabella, and Henry.) I used the data going back to 1880 for thoroughness.

In the case of male names, this meant I was able to remove all the names that appeared in the SSA records. So the names in that table were (probably) not used at all in the U.S. between 1880 and 2021. (The SSA apparently doesn't keep records on names that appear less than five times in a given year, so it's possible there were a few of these guys around, but not many.) This is because, as you may expect from medieval records, there were more than twice as many male names in the records as female names, so there were more left over after cutting the ones that appeared in the SSA data. So twenty of the female names on the table were also used in the US since 1880, but not often.

I did not make any effort to sort names by etymology, so the list includes French, Welsh, Scandinavian, &c. names, not just names that have an English origin. Multicultural, for "pretty much just one quadrant of Europe" values of "multicultural". I don't think that should break anyone's immersion or anything; medieval people traveled around more than people tend to think.

Speaking of breaking immersion, I also cut the following names off of the list because I thought they might be distracting to your players if you randomly assigned them to an NPC -- or to your audience if you use this to name characters for a writing project. I'm not going to say there's something wrong with these names, just that they're the sort of thing you would want to only deploy on purpose:

From the male names:

Cok

Flourecoc

Hammecok

Marmaduke

Odo

Vivian

From the female names:

Cuntessa

Cuntus

Licorice

Also, to note, I've kept them separated into 100 male names and 100 female names because the source data was pretty firmly entrenched in the gender binary. Obviously you can do what you want with your characters' genders, though, and if you want to completely ignore the division, feel free to combine them into a single list and roll a d20+d10 for a d200 table.

Anyway, without further ado, the tables (or, well, lists numbered 1-100) are below the cut.

d100 Medieval Female Names

Acilia

Albrea

Alcis

Aleys

Alveva

Alvona

Amabilia

Amice

Amphelisa

Angaretta

Annora

Antigonia

Anura

Argia

Arniun

Ascelina

Aude

Avegaya

Avice

Barbata

Basilia

Belasez

Belina

Bertrada

Blitha

Bruncosta

Burgia

Celecestra

Claremunda

Clemencia

Comitessa

Constantina

Cundya

Custantia

Dervorguilla

Desiderata

Duva

Edelina

Egelina

Egidia

Emicina

Ermengard

Ermintrude

Escilia

Esterota

Eustachia

Fluoria

Frethesenta

Genta

Goda

Godelina

Godina

Goditha

Goldcorna

Goldina

Guinda

Gundreda

Gunilda

Gunnora

Hawise

Huwelina

Idonea

Imayne

Imenia

Isolda

Ivetta

Kamilia

Langusa

Laurencia

Lesianda

Letewaria

Liveva

Maciana

Mariota

Maszelina

Meisenta

Melcana

Nesta

Nichith

Olencia

Olenta

Oriolda

Osamunda

Pavia

Pelaga

Petronilla

Phillipa

Quenilda

Sanchia

Sapientia

Sarotha

Scolastica

Sigerida

Sinolda

Slima

Theophania

Wulveva

Wymarca

Ymanea

Yselia

d100 Medieval Male Names

Alard

Albric

Alfwyn

Algrym

Alnothus

Amauvin

Amfrid

Anessans

Arnewic

Arnulph

Ascelin

Asketillus

Astun

Avenel

Azus

Baldekin

Bonefey

Chernon

Costericus

Cradoc

Deodatus

Deulecresse

Deulobene

Eglinus

Ellemus

Elvered

Engelard

Engeram

Ernisius

Ernulf

Everwin

Ferrand

Fraricus

Fulk

Galerand

Gemmion

Gernegan

Godebrich

Godescallus

Gruffydd

Gundwin

Hagin

Halengrattus

Hasculph

Heinfrid

Heltonus

Herlewin

Hermer

Ilger

Imbert

Innorus

Isenbard

Joldwin

Jollan

Jukell

Jurninus

Ketelbert

Lefrich

Lefwin

Manasser

Mauger

Meredudd

Meuric

Mosse

Odard

Odinell

Orm

Ranulf

Ratiken

Reinfrid

Rochulf

Roscelin

Ruellus

Runcinus

Salekin

Samariellus

Savaric

Selvius

Serlo

Terricus

Thoreword

Tollanus

Turgot

Turkill

Ulf

Ulfketell

Urricus

Vivard

Waldethus

Walding

Waleran

Walkelin

Wandregisilius

Wicmannus

Wigan

Wischard

Wurmund

Wybert

Wymarc

Wynan

So yeah. There you go. For your TTRPG or writing project. Knock yourself out, let me know if you do anything cool with this.

[fleurriee]

— sun and moon ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; na'vi from the omatikaya clan had arrived in your home, seeking a sanctuary away from the war. who would've known that one of them would be the one to gradually bring you out of your shell?

word count ; 4k

themes ; fluff

warnings ; shy reader, mentions of anxiety & feeling scared of interactions (me), use of y/n

author's note ; THIS IS SO BAD & CORNY WTH!! i didn't bother watching the movie when writing this so the scenes are based off what i can remember :) first time writing from a metkayina background, this was so fun!! thank u for the request <33

next part

day and night series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!

Horns blaring, the sound piercing through your ear drums, your head whipped to the side, eyes scanning across the beautiful horizon for the meaning of such an unexpected sound. Placed delicately upon your Ilu with Tsireya next to you, the two of you shared a confused glance, before your friend's expression suddenly turned curious, her eagerness taking over both her mind and her actions.

The two of you were spending time out in the water together, venturing this way and that as you allowed the water to take you wherever it desired, allowing the peacefulness of the view surrounding you to consume you whole. This was something you found doing with Tsireya as much as you could, whenever either of you found the time - although, it was more Tsireya's schedule you were working around. As the daughter to the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik, it was Tsireya's sole duty to the clan to train up on the ways of a leader, for one day it would be her taking up the mantel. Training was something your friend loved endlessly, finding happiness in aiding her people to the best of her ability, but, in turn, it meant she saw you less than you originally used to.

Growing up, you had only really known Tsireya. She was your best friend, the light of your life, the solace to your anxious heart, and not a day goes by where you don't thank the Great Mother for blessing you with such a lovely friendship. Both of your father's were fairly close, too, having been warriors who trained and fought side by side in their youth, before passing it down onto their daughters, but your relationships would always have their differences.

You and Tsireya managed to balance one another out beautifully, like you were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together as one. Sure, the two of you would be considered somewhat shy to the rest of the clan, but when comparing you together, there was no argument about whose shyness was worse. As future Tsahik, a younger version of Tsireya was forced to put her timid attitude aside and show herself off as she needs to be, excelling in the confidence that was expected of her, but not being too cocky about it.

You, on the other hand, continued to pull yourself further and further away.

More often than not, you found yourself hiding behind others, wishing to bask in their shadows rather than create your own, allowing others to talk louder than you, sticking to your thoughts within your own mind. There wasn't much you wanted to say anyway - you observed everything around you more than anything, taking in every little detail and making note of it, never bothering to speak up on it. Continuously, your father had tried his very best to push you out into the open, to grow your confidence up more and allow yourself to shine in the way he felt you were always meant to, but, in the end, nothing ever seemed to work. The most confident you'd arguably ever felt was when you were either alone with your parents, or with Tsireya. Something about bigger groups set you on edge, finding yourself curling inwards and wishing to melt into the shadows so no was able to take notice of you.

So, when the two of you finally emerged from the now raucous waters, Tsireya just a few paces in front of you like she always was, allowing you to follow her guide with ease, you spotted newcomers, something that definitely didn't happen often. From your thoughts, you guessed that they were Na'vi of the forest, a family of six sheepishly looking around themselves as every eye pierced into them. The sight had your heart picking up in its speed.

Staying close to Tsireya's side, the two of you dismounted your Ilu's, watching as they swam off to relieve themselves of the journey they previously embarked on, walking up past the water's edge and becoming part of the growing crowd. You ended up standing with Ao'nung and Rotxo, too, their eyes glaring over to the forest people, no doubt already disgusted by their differences in appearance. The two boys were ones you shared time with once in a while, but they were too loud and boisterous for your taste, rather staying with the former's sister in the calm and quiet. They were nice enough to you, though, which you greatly appreciated, but they never exactly sought you out, rather just having you tag along with Tsireya and beginning to expect it. Now, it'd just be weird if you weren't with the female.

Their words of teasing in regards to their tails and their fingers had your interest peeked, not having noticed much other than their darker shade of blue, beforehand. Jake Sully - the father of the family; Toruk Makto - was once a known soldier who became an Avatar, before falling in love with his new life and pledging himself as a full Na'vi. That's why some of them looked different, why some of them had extra fingers.

You can't help but rake your eyes over their figures, taking in their broad chests, toned muscles, weird clothing... so much so, when your gaze moved upwards, you hadn't noticed one in particular had caught your snooping. Eyes meeting as one, you quickly guessed that he was the eldest in the family, with the way he held himself high and protective for those he cared about. There's a small smile lingering upon his lips, both warm and welcoming, before sending you a subtle nod. Finally coming out of your reverie, you shy away, feet moving yourself backwards and consequently hiding behind the three teens next to you, head hanging low and eyes grazing along the floor, your heart surely about to burst from your chest. You just weren't good with people - eye contact was something you'd always struggled with, even with those you were comfortable around - and when they were as handsome as this particular Na'vi was, what were you to do other than feel absolutely terrified?

Neither Ao'nung nor Roxto seemingly noticed your sudden change in demeanour, possibly too used to it happening and too busy continuing to taunt the family with their glaring eyes and smirking lips, but Tsireya had.

Bringing your head back up after an eventual short while, your eyes moved sheepishly when Tonowari claimed that both of his children and their friends would help train the forest family's own children in the ways of the water, in the ways of the Metkayina. As the Olo'eyktan gestured over to the four of you huddled close together, your gaze flickered worriedly over to your own father, who stood near his chief, presenting himself as tall and affirmative. Meeting his stare, you found he was already looking at you, no doubt knowing how your nerves would've spiked at the idea of such a proposition. Your head tilted to the side, ears falling flat as you found your expression to be one of begging, hoping that your father would allow you the relief of not forcing you outside your comfort zone. But, he only nodded at you, eyes soft and smile small in reassurance, repeatedly telling himself that this would be good for you, maybe this would be the thing that could finally push you out there.

Looking back to the appreciative family, your eyes found the eldest son's once again, heart beating at speeds you were sure were considered dangerous, already thinking to yourself that you weren't so sure.

Your nerves had only sky-rocketed since the moment your father had pushed you towards a situation you wanted no part in. The idea of training the newcomers was something that absolutely terrified you, just for the fact that you'd actually have to interact with them. You didn't know what they were like - were they nice, were they loud, would they even appreciate the help, or would they want nothing to do with you because of your differences?

It felt as though your thoughts were beginning to consume you whole until you were nothing but a shivering, anxious mess. One possible outcome sprung up, before being followed by another, and your fragile heart simply couldn't take it anymore.

Such an impression brought you so close to finding your father, begging and pleading with him to allow you this one chance to run away into the water and to never emerge again. There were two reasons why you'd never gotten that far with your plans - the first being that you knew your father would never give in to you, even when he has done in the past. You were your parent's only child, meaning from a very young age you had the two of them wrapped tightly around your finger, but you never took it too far. On a normal day, your father might've allowed you the solace of a calming heart, but it was obvious already that day wouldn't be today. The second reasoning was that before you could even make it several steps in the direction of your family marui, Tsireya had found you and steered you in the opposite direction.

For once in your life, you felt like screaming at your only true friend.

Instantly, Tsireya noticed your nervous expression - the way your ears lay flat against your head, your eyes flickering from one spot of the beach to the other, fingers absentmindedly playing with one another to distract your mind away from your impending doom. But, with your arms linked together, she gave you a gentle, soothing pat, reassuring you almost immediately that everything would okay, that nothing would go wrong.

"They seem nice enough," Tsireya continued, leading the two of you to where you'd eventually meet up with them. You supposed she was right - from what you had seen from them the day before at their unexpected arrival, the family seemed kind, stating that they were done with war and battle, only hoping to live out the rest of their days together in bliss and perfection.

Granted, you hadn't really interacted with them, the same with Tsireya, Ao'nung and Rotxo, so you truly had no idea what they'd be like. It seemed like you could only hope for the best.

Your thoughts clouding your mind as they always did like a ritual, your face held a far-off expression, eyes looking off into the distance, cloudy and not really present. At your silence, Tsireya looked up at you with loving eyes, taking noticing of your distance, and already understanding what was happening in your mind just from the look. This was something that seemed to happen more often than not - you were more focused within your own thoughts than with the outside world, so Tsireya was used to this. But, something else clawed at her - the look shared between yourself and the eldest son Jake Sully. She had seen the two of you minimally interact when they arrived, and despite you acting as you normally would even with people you've known your whole life, she felt like there was something there...

"Plus," she started, a teasing lilt within her smile, "do you not want to see that boy again?"

Despite your overbearing shy nature, your head shot up, eyes wide, as soon as those particular words left your friend's mouth. Trying to steel your expression, you attempted to calm your features, looking back down at the sand as your feet continued to follow Tsireya. "What boy?"

She laughs - not mockingly, but almost endearingly, like she knows you know exactly what she means, but your terror in such a circumstance was taking over any other means possible. "The boy who smiled at you..." Head continuing to hang low, you felt a soft nudge against your side as your friend attempted to get something out of you. Alas, all you did was stay completely silent, no doubt if you were to speak even the barest of words, they'd come out shaking and broken. "He seemed to like you." Her words weren't doing anything to sway you, she could see, so with a thoughtful sigh, she tried a different direction. "Y/n, I know this is scary for you, but you never know what might happen until you try..." she spoke softly, timidly, like if her words were even half a decibel louder, they'd have frightened you off. She knew she had to be tender with you, always.

At her final words, you find your head subconsciously moving up, eyes meeting one another as they soften in both adoration and appreciation. Her smile is full of so much fondness and endearment, it almost has your heart aching in pleasure. It felt as though Tsireya was always going out of her way to ensure that you were the most comfortable you could be, never wanting to see you scared and simpering. You truly couldn't have asked for a better friend.

So, swallowing deeply as you prepared yourself for what was soon coming up, you sent Tsireya a forced smile along with a subtle nod of your head, attempting to steel your nerves. Still, you could feel your erratically beating heart not once giving up in its torment.

In the near distance, just in front of the horizon as the sun elevated itself within the pale sky, you could see everyone already there - four Sully kids, and Ao'nung and Rotxo, too. The idea of yourself and Tsireya being the last ones to turn up had your stomach roiling is dissatisfaction, but there was nothing you could do about it now.

With a gentle squeeze of compassion once the two of you had made it to the rest of the group, Tsireya unlinked your arms together, before moving closer to them. "Hi," she spoke up, tone airy and lofty, welcoming, "I am Tsireya, and this is my friend y/n."

Even when you shrunk slightly in on yourself, biting your lips in order to feel the pain rather than your racing heart, the shadows of others beginning to envelop you, he's still able to find you. "Neteyam," he greets, introducing himself as he signs an I see you, eyes lingering on your own like he only really meant their meaning to you. Before you can collapse, he gestures next to him, introducing his siblings, too - Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk.

Neteyam, you thought, what a beautiful name.

You eyes trail over each of them in turn, finding them somehow startlingly different from one another. Lo'ak's own gaze seemed to trail after Tsireya like some sort of lovesick-puppy, the scene causing a small smile to grace your lips; Kiri's attention was here, there and everywhere, her mind shooting from one idea to the next as she took everything in around her; and Tuk grasped eagerly at Neteyam's hand, excitedly bouncing atop her feet, not able to wait a second longer before they got started on their Metkayina training.

Once introductions are in order, each of you signing back to them in greeting (although, you were sure there was some form of malice behind Ao'nung's, which you thought was just simply childish), the group find themselves bobbing along to the current in the cooling waters, several Ilu's spotted around them, waiting for their rider in small anticipation.

The group had been divided out - Ao'nung and Rotxo would be teaching Kiri, Tsireya with Lo'ak, and yourself would be taking care of both Neteyam and Tuk, something you don't doubt was Tsireya's idea - you'd make sure to scorn her for it afterwards. The awaiting Ilu stays calm in your hands as you continuously send soothing strokes down the base of its head, your words slow and understanding, not wanting to overwhelm the two of them with information as they intently listen, Tuk clinging to her brother's neck. "This is an Ilu," you start, eyes trained solely on the creature itself, too scared that if you dared to look over at Neteyam, you'd crash and crumble. "You must learn to tame one in order to stay here, to become Metkayina. It should not be too hard as long as you keep your grip tight - the force of the water can change quickly, so you always need to be prepared."

This Ilu was much smaller in size, only young, so you suggested it would be better for Tuk to try her out. As you gently gestured her over, Neteyam moved the two of them until they were beside the creature, lifting her up and ensuring she was safely on top. Moving back, you take his spot, hands reaching out - one against her back soothingly, and the other grasping along the Ilu's queue.

"Here," you speak softly, guiding the queue up closer, further gesturing for the two of them to bond. Continuously, you ensure to allow yourself to come across as calm and prepared, despite knowing Neteyam is close behind you, causing all sorts of emotions to pass through you - you know that something like bonding with a creature can be nerve-wracking, remembering your own experience very well, and the fact that they were expected to do well due to their ages surely would've made the pressure worse. If those younger than them could do it, why couldn't they?

With their queues finally connected, a small, excited giggle escapes from her lips at the sudden sensation fluttering through her. You can't help the adoring smile on your own features at the sight, your hand stopping in its soothing movements along her back as you pulled away. "Now think go, but be gentle - you do not want to go too fast."

Tuk takes a couple of seconds to herself, smile big and bright as she comfortably fidgets against the Ilu, before seemingly doing so as the creature takes off. Gaze not once faltering from her near-distancing figure, you watched as her Ilu eventually took her under the water for a few seconds, the smile dropping from your face as panic soon started to cleave within you. Before you could even think about swimming under and checking up on her, both Tuk and her Ilu popped up from the surface, her shrill, excited giggles piercing through the air as she exclaimed animatedly, floating beside the creature.

You find yourself joining in on her exhilaration, one hand coming up to cover your mouth as your eyes crinkled in happiness. Small shouts of I did it! I did it! travel to your perked up ears, clapping softly when she looks over to you for approval, heart wrenching lovingly at her cheerfulness.

In your sudden change of emotions, it seemed that you had completely forgotten about the other Na'vi presence behind you - the one who could take your breath away with just a single look. It isn't until you feel the water gently ripple against your waist when you remember of his presence, heart stopping in anticipation. Before you can stop yourself or realise what you're truly doing, you turn your head, coming face to face with the male, directly next to you as he wears a proud smile directed at his youngest sister, then bringing his gaze down to you. "You are a good teacher," he compliments, his smile not once faltering.

There's no denying that your cheeks are starting to blush at his words - you can feel the heat scorching against your skin, no doubt colouring it a darker shade. Your shyness that had started to disappear when teaching Tuk had forced its way back to the forefront, your demeanour changing as you always seemed to struggle receiving compliments, no matter who is was from. "Thank you," your voice is barely audible when you try and speak, unsure of what else to say when your gaze lies back down against the ocean in an attempt to hide away.

But, even if he can sense your struggle, he doesn't give up. His gaze is still searing into you - you can feel it against every portion of skin his eyes land on - but he doesn't wish to make you uncomfortable. Perhaps he can understand your shyness, you wonder, because both his words and actions only seem to want to goad you out of your shell. (You're too scared to admit that it might be working.) "You are friends with Tsireya, yes?"

His question allows you the opportunity of a small form of escape - looking up, your attention focuses on said girl in the near distance as she attempts to teach Lo'ak. It's obvious even from where you are that they're getting along from their lingering touches and elated smiles. "Yes," you nod.

That's all you say to his question, feeling guilty for your one-word answers, but you're unsure with what else to say. It was something you'd always found yourself struggling with - trying to hold a conversation with someone was difficult if they didn't know you as well as your parents or Tsireya. You just had to hope they didn't think you rude for it.

And, it was obvious that Neteyam didn't think of you such a way, for his questions continued. "But, not with Ao'nung or Rotxo?" However, even despite the giddiness that he didn't think you ill-mannered with your lack of words, you felt confused, too, because how had he noticed such a fact? Slowly, your gaze shifts back over to his somewhat towering figure, your eyes slightly narrowed, naturally giving away what you were thinking. He hurries to explain himself when he spots the puzzlement. "You only seem to be with Tsireya whenever I see you."

The words I see you linger repeatedly within the depths of your mind, even when you know for definite he didn't mean it in that way. You can't help yourself - being the way that you are, you thought it was practically impossible for you to ever get a mate. And, for the longest time, you told yourself you were okay with that, despite the chastising looks from your parents who thought otherwise. But, as you grew older, watching other Na'vi around you find their soulmates, it only had your heart aching for more.

And, despite only having met Neteyam just a few days ago, the thought wouldn't leave your brainwaves, lingering like an omen... but this one felt good. The way he had noticed such a circumstance of you only really hanging around wherever Tsireya was must have been somewhat difficult, considering the two of you always found a secluded spot away from the busyness of the surrounding clan. That means either he would've stumbled upon you too many times to count by accident, or he was seeking you out. The latter option felt better, but you didn't want to get your hopes up.

Upon finally realising you've taken too long to give him some semblance of an answer, too lost within your mind, you swallow, shrugging sheepishly. "I've only ever really gotten on with Tsireya..." you admit embarrassingly, eyes downcast once more.

There's a silence that envelops itself between the two of you, only hearing the near-distance sounds of splashing water and happy yells and teasing laughter as the others continue to train on their own Ilu's. That's when Neteyam speaks up. "Well," he starts, his voice somehow both teasing and hesitant, comforting and anxious, "is there a chance that you might get along with me?

Sheepishness be damned, your head shot up so suddenly, you were shocked you didn't experience whiplash as soon as the words left his parted mouth, a smirk evident upon his lips. Your eyes were imploring in on his own, trying to spot where the joke was, but you couldn't find any evidence of such a thing. His amusement has you feeling unsteady, dizzy, and before you can really comprehend what you're doing, there's a small, loving smile on your lips, too. It's barely there, but Neteyam's eyes flicker down to spot it, and it has his own heart racing in its cage.

Coming back to your senses, you turn forwards, swimming away and getting closer to Tuk to train her again without saying another word. From the distance, Neteyam continues to watch you caress the Ilu, clapping his younger sister on the back before helping her back up so she could have another go.

With a shake of his head and chuckling to himself in endearment, he slowly swam over to the two of you, undeniable intrigue festering within the pit of his stomach every time he thought of you.

taglist ;

@bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums​ @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Idk if this is a good ask idea😭

But maybe tom and fem reader who are like childhood friends (also with bill) but she finally realized she was in love with him when he started to become popular and all the other girls where like fangirling. Like she noticed that she was getting kinda jealous

Thank you, I love your acc! And that you write for the kaulitz twins :)

(hello! Thank you for requesting, this still may suck bc I'm adjusting to writing for them now and rank you for visiting my account! Hopefully you like this, it's sorta my first jealous reader one so it still may suck. Enjoy!)

Number One Girl

It was no secret of how close you were to Tokio Hotel, you had grown up with practically all of them.

You weren't in the band, but that didn't stop your friends from dragging you along to every city and concert they did.

Tom and Bill had always been with you, they just came into your lives one day and blended in perfectly.

Same with Gustav and Georg, somehow you all just clicked.

Especially when you and Tom got older, the boy somehow grew more confident and enjoyed flirting with you on any occasion.

Especially when he rose in fame with his friends, often dragging you onto stage or taking hints at you in interviews.

But you guys were never anything more, just friends, but some would think differently sometimes.

You did too, honestly. The more people confused you both as a couple, affection was never hidden as he often had his hand on your hip, hugging you from behind or even kissing your cheek.

You couldn't deny that you do the same to him, but it always felt different then when you would kiss Bill, Gustav or Georg on their cheeks or hug them.

Somehow, it was different with Tom.

Was it wrong to feel that way about him? Especially as he got more popular as time went on? Or how much his own fan base grew?

So that's how you landed here, forced by Tom to sit at a signing with him, Bill, Gustav and Georg.

"Oh, come on." Tom nudged you with his leg under the table as he saw your bored face.

"You get to see how many people want my autograph." Tom joked, pushing his face closer to yours as you laughed and pushed it away.

"I could be doing anything else, Tom. Yet I'm forced to sit here, like a hostage." You shook your head, the smile on Tom's face never changing.

"You'd gladly do it anytime." Tom said, kissing you on your cheek once before a girl came up to the table with a CD.

"Hey." Tom turned his attention to the girl, just as you turned to Bill who tapped your shoulder.

"(Name)," Bill called to you, showing you a piece of art a fan that recently walked away had given him.

"They drew their own version of the band logo." Bill smiled, holding the art work and showcasing it to you as you smiled.

The art was genuinely great, and it only added to Bill's smile.

"It's good, who gave it to you?" You asked, looking around as Bill pointed out a girl, about to introduce her name before security behind you guys jumped up.

"Hey!" Security yelled, you turned around just to see a girl kissing Tom on the cheek before she hurried off with her friends.

You stared at him with a raised brow as Tom laughed.

"It's all right." Tom reassured the security, laughing it off.

"What was that?" You asked Tom, the boy looking at you to see your face as you stared at him expectantly.

A smile came into his face, examining the unfamiliar look on your face as you eyed down the running girl still, turning to eye down him once more.

"What? She kissed my cheek." Tom tapped his cheek, proudly saying it as you merely shook your head at him.

Tom's fangirl had hugged him before and you saw but you had never seen one kiss him on his cheek before.

That was something you always did and have always done for him since you guys were kids.

"Aw, are you jealous?" Tom laughed, leaning closer to you as you scoffed at him, a small smile somehow finding its way into your lips.

"Don't worry, you're still number one." Tom smirked playfully, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, his head now in your neck as he gave your jaw a small peck.

"Number one? I better be the only one, Tom." You looked back down at him with a look he knew too well.

"We'll see, I have to have my options open." Tom joked sarcastically, stopping once he saw your face change.

"Nevermind, you're the only one." Tom shook his head, giving your temple one last kiss.

You couldn't help but shake your head at him once more.

Tom was Tom, and you wouldn't expect him to be able to control fans, but as long as you were around, your spot as his number one would always be safe.

Has been for years, always will be for the years to come.

[infamous-if]

Are there any IFs you'd recommend? I have a demo hangover from yours and need to do something while I wait for Chapter 2 (begging for it)

*rubs palms*

M (@mwritesc) has recently released the demo to Cyprus and it is a gem! Her writing is mind blowing and so vivid.

@reapersbayif by @dakotawritesif ! I feel like I made my love for Striker known by now shshsh their writing truly comes to life. And they are so so nice.

@greatprotector-if ! The one word I can use to describe Cassian's writing is cozy. Like a warm hug <3

@fateunwritten-if heyyy shadow whats up haha me? just hanging out and not obsessing over ur existence haha

@stephschoices is writing a naruto IF ! also steph's art is awesome cries

@jaunefleurwrites if you want your heart squeezed and squished (in the best way) A World Without You is your jam

@zico-if Zico recently published the rewritten version of the demo and I was levitating reading it! Also how specific and abundant the customization is? awesome.

@unwilling-souls-if one name: Xander and the concept is so unique and fun like wow

@kalorphic's Novaturient. Agent X is everything to me yup

@coeluvr's Crown of Ashes and Flames. I love me some angst and drama and the opportunities for both are chefs kiss

@thegrandheist-if i love me some heists also i love the whole traveling back in time trope. it's one of my favs.

THERE'S A LOT MORE but I've truly become attached to these stories and characters and I am such a fan! Not only are they great writers but such great people! I recommend them allll

Edit: also yes I’m ready to have brainrot over wayhaven in 2 days

[beewolfwrites]

you’re one of my favorite authors so i’m so glad you’re active again! <33 I’ve started rereading awiaf just to remind myself why it’s my favorite fic ever so thank you for feeding into my brain rot since you started awiaf until now.

on the other side of this ask

I have worms for brains and I desperately need chishiya trying to drop hints that he likes the reader but just… is so terrible at it and gets frustrated because if it. He probably doesn’t even know the first thing about flirting, let’s all be honest.

Hey Anon! This probably strayed a little from your request, but if you'd rather have a fluffier version, I'm happy to redo it :)

The idea of Kuina being a horrified wingwoman to Chishiya's terrible flirting attempts was just too funny not to write about.

(Chishiya x gn reader)

(Kuina = losing hope in all humanity)

________________________________________________

It was killing her to watch. 

She’d given him more expert advice than she’d ever given anyone - heaven only knew that boy needed it - but he was still so stiff, so standoffish, and so goddamn terrible. And now, hiding behind a pillar in the hotel lobby, Kuina felt like crawling into a corner and burying her head in the sand. 

‘Thanks… That’s really nice of you Chishiya.’  

The words had come out in the same awkward tone that one might use when humouring children, or fending off an over-familiar stranger on the bus. And what’s worse, Chishiya hadn’t even realised. 

‘You just pull the pin and it should work,’ he explained, showing off the “pin”, which was actually a keyring attached to a piece of string. 

‘Great,’ (Y/N) said, eyebrows drawing in bizarre confusion. ‘I guess it’s useful to have… maybe.’ 

Kuina bit her hand, fighting the urge to drag him away at his heels. Luckily, she didn’t have to, because without even saying goodbye, or ending the conversation whatsoever, he was now walking away, smiling with satisfaction and leaving (Y/N) standing in the hotel lobby looking utterly bewildered by the events that just occurred. As Chishiya passed the pillar, she grabbed his white hood.

He shook her off immediately. ‘Was that really necessary?’ 

‘What the hell was that?’ Kuina hissed. ‘What about everything we practiced?’ 

He shrugged lazily. ‘I thought it went well.’ 

You can’t be serious?

‘That right there? That was a car crash. You can’t just walk up to someone and give them a bomb as a present. They think you’re insane now.’ 

‘I doubt that. I left a note in their room beforehand.’ 

Kuina felt the colour drain from her face. ‘You did what now?’ 

Chishiya gave a knowing smile. ‘While the games were on, I left a note on the bed explaining that I had a gift. It was hardly a surprise.’ 

Oh my god… This is a disaster. 

She placed both hands on his shoulders, locking him in a firm grip that he couldn’t escape from no matter how much he tried to squirm away. 

‘Chishiya, listen to me now. Normal people don’t do things like this. You don’t know (Y/N) well enough to just walk into their room. You’re gonna end up with some really weird rumours going around, and I don’t want to be part of that.’ 

He finally broke away with a scowl. ‘You’re overreacting. If you’re not going to help, you can find somebody else to annoy.’ 

‘I’m literally trying my hardest to help you, but you’re impossible. This is impossible.’ 

He made a small noise of irritation and stared aimlessly at the white lobby wall. ‘Do you have any other suggestions then?’ 

‘What about telling the truth?’ 

‘No.’ 

‘It’s not that bad. Tell them how you really feel. Admit that you weren’t sure how to show it, and you screwed up —‘

‘I didn’t.’ 

‘Yeah, you did. You haven’t got a clue how to flirt, and that was a horror show to watch.’ 

He averted his gaze, looking anywhere but at Kuina. ‘Any other bright ideas?’ 

She rubbed her temple. ‘I’ll see what I can think of,’ she said. ‘Just let me work on it, okay?’ 

As she parted ways with Chishiya in the lobby, Kuina didn’t have much hope. The situation was eating away at her, because believe it or not, she wanted Chishiya to be happy, even if he was an asshole sometimes. Well, most of the time. However, even after borrowing all of her expert advice and tips, he still couldn’t quite make flirting seem natural.��

And worse, he actually did like (Y/N), even if he had never really shared the depths of his feelings. But Kuina wasn’t blind. She’d seen the way his eyes trailed after them, no matter where they were in the room. He would only ask how Kuina’s games had been whenever (Y/N) was placed in the same group. Anybody else wouldn’t have noticed. Except Kuina wasn’t just anybody. 

I think I might actually feel bad for him. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the sixth floor. She was so lost in her thoughts that when the doors opened, it took her a good few seconds to realise that she was standing face to face with the object of those thoughts - the object of Chishiya’s affection.

‘Oh! Hey Kuina, this is actually kind of cool. I was just looking for you.’ 

Oh no.

Kuina could already see where this was going. ‘Really? We can go into my room if you want to talk,’ she suggested. ‘It’s better than standing out here.’ 

They must have been knocking on Kuina’s door, and since the timing was right, that could only mean one thing. There would be a very long conversation ahead. The two shut themselves away in the privacy of Kuina’s room, sitting on two small chairs in front of the window. 

‘Sorry for the mess.’ Kuina began scooping up the array of lipsticks rolling around on the desk behind her. ‘I think I already know why you’re here.’ 

There’s no point beating around the bush.

(Y/N) tried to hide a grimace behind their hand. ‘It’s… well. Have you noticed Chishiya-san acting strange recently?’ 

‘Strange?’ 

‘It’s just that - this is so weird. He stares at me so much, and earlier when I came back from my game, I found a note from him on my pillow. I didn’t even know he’d been in my room.’ 

Seriously, Chishiya? The pillow?!

Kuina feigned surprise. ‘What did the note say?’ 

‘He wanted to meet with me in the lobby, so I did. Just now, actually, and…’ (Y/N) pulled out a soda can with red and blue wires stretching from the lip to the base, and a tiny pull ring on top. ‘He gave me a homemade grenade.’ 

‘I’m so sorry.’ It was the only thing Kuina could bring herself to say. ‘I really am. I can have a word with him if you want?’

‘That’s not all,’ they added. ‘The other day when I woke up I found something in front of my door too. I don’t have it here, but it was a… a shank, I think?’ 

Kuina fought the urge to put her head in her hands and cry. Chishiya hadn’t told her about this, probably knowing she would disapprove. And disapprove, she did. 

‘I don’t have it with me, but it’s a piece of shaved metal tied to a screwdriver. There wasn’t a note but I think it was him. I didn’t really know what to say to him before. I just, I’m a little confused. I always thought he was kind of cute, but all of this is weirding me out…’ 

Hold on. 

Kuina’s eyes widened. She replayed that last sentence in her head. 

Hold on just one second. 

‘I’m only asking because I care,’ they said, ‘but is he okay, you know, mentally?’ 

‘Look,’ Kuina interrupted. ‘This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out.’

Maybe honesty really is the best policy. 

She took a deep breath. ‘Chishiya actually likes you. As in, he likes likes you. He’s just fucking awful at flirting.’ 

(Y/N)’s whole body froze, eyes flashing with hope. ‘You mean he likes me in that way? He has feelings for me?’ 

Kuina nodded and leaned back in her chair. It was like a huge weight had suddenly been lifted from her chest.

‘I wasn’t going to say anything since it’s not really my place, but the two of you are getting nowhere like this. I know how he looks, but Chishiya’s not made of stone. I think he just wasn’t sure how to tell you and decided to make you weapons for protection. He’s really logical like that. I guess he figured regular gifts didn’t have any value in this place.’ 

Have I ruined it?

She had tried to explain the best she could, to put Chishiya in a good light and dissolve any rumours of him being a homemade weapon-obsessed stalker. But by doing this, did she also sabotage his chances? 

(Y/N) smiled gently. ‘I guess when you think about it that way, it’s actually kind of sweet.’ 

Kuina was perplexed, to say the least. There was no way in heaven or hell that Chishiya was sweet. Not a chance. The man was cold, stoic, calculating, basically anything but boyfriend material. But she wasn’t going to say this to the one person who might actually be able to change him.  

(Y/N) stood up and grinned at Kuina. ‘Thank you! I think, I might actually go and talk to him now. His room is just down the hall, isn’t it?’ 

“It’s room nine,’ Kuina got to her feet too. ‘I’ll come with you, but I’ll be hiding around the corner. If it’s okay with you, I want to see how this works out.’ 

‘That’s okay,’ they said. ‘I’d like you to come. It’ll be good having you there, for support.’ 

The pair left Kuina’s room and headed down the hallway towards room nine. Judging from the vague shuffling noises they could hear through the door, Chishiya was inside. Kuina gave a wink of encouragement and hid just behind the corner, the perfect place to listen in and spy from afar. (Y/N) knocked on the door, holding the soda can between both hands.

The shuffling noises paused, then the door opened, revealing Chishiya. When he saw who was on the other side, his lips parted in mild surprise. 

‘Hey Chishiya.’ (Y/N) shuffled awkwardly. ‘I just wanted to stop by to say I’m sorry about before, if I seemed off. I was still kind of thinking about my game earlier.’ They held up the soda can. ‘Really, thank you for this. It’ll be really handy in a pinch.’

To anybody else, Chishiya’s expression would seem static, bored even. But Kuina saw the vague tug of a smile on his lips; she knew better. 

‘If you use it in your next game, I can make you another one,’ he replied. ‘Or if you need a knife that you can hide in your jacket. Tasers too.’

‘Tasers?’

He smirked. ‘All you need is an electronic device. It’s a simple rewiring trick.’ 

The two spoke in hushed tones, Chishiya faintly smirking and (Y/N) taking in every word he spoke. Watching from behind the corner, Kuina was delighted to finally see her efforts come to fruition, and she had to admit, these two oddballs kind of suited each other. Who would’ve known? 

(Y/N) peered over Chishiya’s shoulder, their face lighting up. ‘Wait, is that your workbench? Can I see it?’ 

‘Sure.’ He opened his door wider and (Y/N) slipped inside. 

This is the cutest thing I’ve seen in ages, Kuina thought. Maybe I should become a professional matchmaker. 

And then she froze. 

She froze because Chishiya didn’t close the door behind him. Instead, his eyes jumped over to where she was standing, looking at her squarely. 

Busted!

She gave him an awkward wave of her fingers. However, instead of scowling at her for meddling too much in his affairs, he gave her the briefest of nods - a small thank you for the world’s greatest wingwoman. 

[analogwriting]

Recovery

Smutilogue (afab edition) Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3.1k first|amab version a/n: here's the cora smut y'all been feinding for. technically this is an epilogue, but it also works as standalone. im lit as shit rn as usual when i write that shit - so enjoy. as usual, there are two versions. one afab, one amab but they both have diff things happen. (one rails the other rides ain't that great) also amore is love in italian and amor is love in spanish which tbh its cute n funny to me

“Ugh, it's so nice to finally be home,” you grumbled as you walked into the door of your house. At this point, you hadn't been home for a month and a half, but luckily you had cleaning services to maintain everything while you were away. Marco had also been sure to check on the house, he had a spare key, after all. 

“I think this is the first time I've been in your home.” You looked back to Corazon who was closing the door. “Well, benvenuto in casa mia.” You chuckled as you set your things down. Man, it was good to be home. 

You set your things down on the couch, letting Corazon explore your place while you checked everything. Windows, exits, the likes. You just wanted to make sure no one had broken in at any point. Marco had done this for you too and you had an alarm system, but with recent events, you couldn't be too cautious at this point. 

You headed into your room, seeing your boyfriend standing and staring at something on the floor in your closet. “Whatcha doin’?” 

You could've swore he jumped ten feet in the air. He looked back at you with panic in his eyes as he closed the door. “N-Nothing!”

Your expression changed to that of a droll one. “I don't believe that for a single fucking second.” You walked over, moving him and opening the door. 

Oh. Right. You'd forgotten that you meant to go through that and get rid of some stuff. 

There, in the middle of your closet, was a box of sex toys. You weren't embarrassed about it, if anything you were amused. You snorted, looking at him. He couldn't make eye contact with you. “Oh, you're just the cutest.” You reached up, pinching his cheek, causing his face to turn a deeper shade of red. 

“What's got you so flustered, amore? Imagine me using these on you?” A sly grin spread across your face as you pulled out a double ended strap. 

You heard him gasp softly and you looked at him, his face still a bright red. You grinned. The two of you held out this long despite almost jumping each other a couple of times. You could see his blush creeping down his neck and to his collarbone, his breathing became shallow. Oh, he absolutely was thinking of you using these on him.

“Oh, you dirty boy,” you purred and he frowned, quickly turning to head out of the room. You grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. You moved just right to get him to stumble onto the bed, quickly straddling him in the process. 

He looked at you with wide eyes, but he wasn't protesting. “Y-You should be recovering,” he mumbled. A large smile spread across your face. 

“That's all I've been doing.” However, if he was uncomfortable, you weren't gonna make him do anything. “But, if you don't wanna, that's okay.” You kissed him softly, smiling against him before moving to slide off his lap. 

Before you could go too far, you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you forward. You blinked, looking at him. His face was still bright red, but you could see the lusty haze beginning to form in his eyes. You had him right where you wanted him.

“Only if you're sure you don't need to recover some more,” he said. 

A smug smile spread across your face. “Oh, I'm just fine.” You kissed him again, hungrier this time. The two of you groaned against each other as it quickly became a heated exchange. You appreciated his concern, but you were just fine and you were about to be even better. 

You pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him down into the bed, following suit as you kissed at him. You reached under his shirt, feeling him up. You slowly lifted his shirt, resting it above his chest as your lips trailed to his neck, leaving hickies in their wake. Your hands explored his body, fingers gently tracing his scars. He shivered, his breathing shaking as small noises of pleasure escaped his lips.

Having him at your mercy like this was…delicious. 

Your fingers brushed over his nipples, twirling around them before pinching them softly. He gasped, arching his back as a small whimper escaped his lips. This was something you could definitely get used to. You moved down, beginning to kiss at his chest now; your lips gently pressing against his skin. He pressed into you as he moaned your name.

Who knew he could be so submissive? Sure, he always gave in to you, but you didn’t think that he’d be this submissive in bed. You were going to make sure to give him the shag of his life. 

You continued to kiss down his torso, taking a couple of detours to kiss a scar here and there. You two had that in common; bodies littered with scars from your former lifestyle that you were born into and were able to escape from. You reached the waistband of his pants, beginning to unbutton them. His breathing had already grown shallow as he looked down at you with a flushed face. 

You sat up for a moment, just admiring his beauty. Him just laying before you, face and body flushed, beginning to glisten with sweat. His chest was moving up and down rapidly as he was already breathless. His shirt pushed up over his chest with his pants slightly undone while looking disheveled…you honestly were tempted to take a picture. Make it the background on your phone maybe. Though, Marco had access to your phone, you didn’t want to embarrass Corazon like that.

A grin slowly stretched across your face. “Already this worked up?” You could tell by the tent in his pants that he was more than ready for you to do whatever you pleased with him.

You absolutely planned on railing him today - give him the time of his life. He deserved it after all he's done for you and the fact he's stuck around despite the absolute shit show your life has been the past couple of months. 

“How can I not be? I've been waiting forever,” he mumbled, looking away from you, covering his mouth with his hand. You just grinned at him like an idiot for a moment. His gaze shifted back to you. “W-What?”

“Nothing, you're just so pretty,” you mused, licking your lips. He groaned softly, covering his face again and you chuckled, finally making your next move. 

Your hands moved quickly, freeing him from the constraints of his pants. He twitched and throbbed against your hand as the cool air hit him. You expected him to be on the bigger side considering how large the man was himself, but you weren't too worried considering you were going to be the one railing him this time around. Maybe you'd ride him next time. 

This was about him this time around. You wanted to express your gratitude for everything. 

You leaned down, pressing your lips to the base of his cock. His breathing hitched and he let out a tiny whine. “You tease too much,” he mumbled. 

You just smiled at him. “It's because you're so fun to tease.” You decided to do so just a little bit more. Taking your tongue, you started from the base, dragging it along the underside all the way to the top before swirling it around his head and pressing a kiss to it. The entire time he whined, his back arching - he was completely and totally at your mercy.

“Please,” he mumbled, his voice breathy and desperate. Oh, you liked that. “Please what?” you asked, beginning to stroke him, your thumb brushing over his head. 

He just looked at you with a pained look in his eyes, his hips bucking slightly, begging for more friction. His pupils were blown with lust and you were eating it up. “Please stop teasing me,” he gasped as you squeezed him slightly as his base. 

“Mm, I guess.” You decided to finally show him some mercy. You could tease him further, make him say even lewder things, but you decided to take it easy this time around. This was only the first time, after all. There'd be plenty more to come. You wanted to hear him yell your name, honestly. Nothing would get you going more than being able to hear him desperately calling your name in such a lewd manner. 

Finally, you gave him what he wanted, sliding him down your throat. Every time you did something like this, you were a bit worried about getting lockjaw so you tried your best not to overextend your jaw. Even if it did happen, you were a doctor and could take care of it, but it wouldn't make it any less embarrassing. 

Your eyes widened slightly as he rolled his hips, shoving himself down your throat even further. You pressed down on his hips, holding him in place as you pulled off of him for a moment. “Careful there, eager mcbeaver. I'm the one in charge,” you said, panting a bit. He looked down at you through half lidded eyes, pouting slightly. Fuck, he was so hot. 

You resumed what you were doing, taking him into your mouth once more. You could feel him straining under you to keep from moving. Good boy, you’d be sure to reward him well. It wasn't long before you started to work him, bobbing your head as your hands gripped at his thighs - mostly keeping him in place. You could also feel that he was going to be sent over the edge at any moment. 

Using one of your hands, you began to fondle his balls, causing him to whimper and moan. “Y/n!” His voice was a high whine, breaking halfway through. You gave his balls a nice tug and squeeze, causing him to buck his hips and shoving himself down your throat even further than the time before. He moaned loudly as he came and you did your best to not choke at his sudden movements. You were so glad you didn’t really have a gag reflex, but he still made it hard.

Though, you should've seen that coming from a mile away. 

You pulled off of him, swallowing every bit of cum he had before fully pulling off of him. You were panting heavily, as was he. He placed an arm over his face as you moved up. You removed it, kissing him hard. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled against you, so breathless you almost didn't hear him. 

You smiled. “It's okay. I should've expected it. I didn’t exactly play fair.” You pulled away from him, sliding off the bed. He looked at you, confused and sitting up on his elbows. “Where are you going?”

“You were curious about the strap, remember? When I come back out, you better be naked.”

You watched as his eyes widened before he nodded and you grinned, disappearing into the bathroom, and grabbing the toy along the way. 

You reemerged, significantly less clothes than before. That being, you had none. All you donned was the strap. You almost sent yourself over the edge just getting it on with how turned on you were just from making him lose it. Half of it was inside of you, after all. It was one of those double sides. 

Corazon had also followed instruction, now naked as he laid on your bed. He had been able to calm down a bit. He was no longer panting and his skin wasn't as flushed, but you knew that wouldn't last very long.

He looked over as you walked out, his own eyes widening. He licked his lips as he stared at you, devouring you with his eyes. “Stunning,” he mumbled, looking you up and down. You felt your face warm up. He sure knew how to flatter you. His eyes rested on the strap, swallowing hard. 

You walked over to him, kissing him on the way before rummaging through your nightstand and pulling out some lube. “Relax. Trust me. I won't hurt you.” He just looked at you before nodding. “I trust you.”

You grinned, sliding back onto the bed and in between his legs. You applied some to your fingers, looking at him. “I'm going to stretch you out first since this is your first time doing something anally, I assume.” He nodded, just staring at your hand. 

You would take your time, not wanting to go too fast and freak him out. You started with one finger, sliding it into him. He squirmed a bit, making a face of uncertainty. Once you started moving your digit around, he was quickly lost in the pleasure, relaxing a bit. He loosened a bit and you added another one, this time he moaned a bit, rolling his hips. You stopped moving, giving him a look. “Ah, ah. Patience.” 

He frowned, pouting and whining a bit. “You tease,” he mumbled, panting slightly already. You were absolutely eating up his desperation. You just grinned, beginning to move your fingers, scissoring them inside of him and curling them. You could feel him starting to relax more, loosening even moreso. Good. You didn't want to tear something. It wasn't long before you added the third. 

“Please,” he whined. “I think I'm more than ready.” He gasped, looking at you with agony. You snorted, grinning down at him. “I suppose.” You slowly pulled your fingers out, watching his eyes roll back and his back arch. Who knew he was such a little slut?

You moved to add some lube to the strap and once again, he was watching your every move. This time, however, it was more anticipation and excitement rather than fear and uncertainty. 

You positioned yourself in between his legs, sticking one on his legs over your shoulder. His face turned a deep shade of red as you did so. You pressed the head of the toy to him and heard his breath hitch. Again, a grin spread across your face in amusement before you slid the toy into him.

His eyes widened, rolling back before his head fell back onto the pillows. A long, loud, and whiny moan erupted from him, but he wasn't the only one. As you pressed into him, your side of the toy pressed deeper into you, causing you to moan right along with him. Both of you were panting by the time you bottomed out. Your head was spinning as you paused to gather yourself. 

It'd been a while since you fucked anyone and even longer since you topped. You weren't too sure how long you'd last. Hopefully long enough. 

After a moment of regathering, you looked at Corazon. He was panting heavily too, an arm over his face. You reached up, moving his hand. “I want to see that face.” 

He looked at you. Well, at least you think he did - he might’ve looked through you. He looked absolutely lost in whatever pleasure you were currently giving him. You took that as a sign to start moving. You pressed a kiss to his leg that was over your shoulder before you rolled your hips, moreso testing the water. 

You heard him gasp, watching him grip the sheets before melting into a puddle of pleasure. You also felt the toy inside you move, causing your own head to spin more rapidly.

You kept moving, pulling in and out of him. You were slow with your movements at first as you struggled to find a pace - you were a bit out of practice. It didn't take you too long to find it, though. Soon enough, you were quickly moving your hips, the room filling with nothing but the noises of your pleasure. 

It wasn't long before you were absolutely wrecking him, pistoning your hips in and out of him like you had everything to lose. He was crying out your name over and over, begging you for something you weren't even sure of because he never could finish his sentence. You could make out the word ‘yes’ a few times. His words were slurred and you were pretty sure he was drooling too. 

You could feel your own legs beginning to shake as the toy pressed and rubbed against all the right spots inside of you. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, the coil in your abdomen wound tightly. It was only a matter of time before you were out for the count. 

You were honestly surprised you lasted this long. 

A few thrusts and many moans later, you felt the wave of euphoria wash over you as the coil within snapped, sending you over the edge. You cried out Corazon's name, stilling your hips and shoving the toy deep within him. His own cries also bounced off the walls as he yelled your name, making a mess of the both of you as he reached his climax as well. 

Your entire body shuddered as you kept still, riding the euphoric waves of your climax. You were panting heavily, sweating a good amount too. Ugh, you were going to need a shower after this, but you also knew you were probably going to pass out.

After a bit of recovery, you pulled out of him, hearing him whine in response. You moved quickly, removing it from yourself as well, whining just as he did, feeling yourself twitch against the toy. You chuckled it on the floor, deciding to deal with it later. 

You moved, collapsing next to him. You looked up, pressing a kiss to his jaw before settling into his side, still panting like crazy. Your own heart was racing and you knew his would be too. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing a bit. You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close. 

“Mm, how did you like it?” you asked, looking up at him. He looked down at you, a tired but goofy grin spreading across his face. “I'm…gonna be sore but…” He kissed you softly, sighing against your lips. “I'd do it again.”

You snorted, grinning. “Good to know. Guess I'll be keeping that after all then.” The both of you chuckled, settling down. You felt exhaustion creeping in. You were technically still in recovery, after all. 

“Mm, I love you, amore.” You pressed a kiss to his chest before closing your eyes again. “I love you too, amor.” He pressed a kiss against your head before settling in. It wasn't long before the two of you were out for the count.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

svt reaction: the one who got away | part 1 hyung line version

this v angsty request is from @f4iryjjosh and IT HURT MY SOUL TO WRITE hahahaha thank you so much for the request angel <3 i hope it fulfills all ur desires! (part 2 coming soon :))

the idea is that SVT breaks up with y/n after meeting someone else and falling for them, and then realizing they made a huge mistake, but you've moved on and there's nothing they can really do about it. it is all angst and pain. there is no relief.

seungcheol. he hated hearing his full name from anyone's lips, and he should've hated it even more coming from the lips that he'd be dreaming about for ages. but for some reason, in your voice, it made him smile. even after all this time.

and that smile, the one where he looked at you with his big shining eyes like you'd saved his life or restored his family honor, was almost enough to make you forget everything that had happened between you.

almost.

as it was, you gave him a soft smile back. "hey," you said. "you okay?"

a thousand thoughts pass through his mind at once -- you in his arms, you sighing his name, you breaking down in tears in your best dress in the restaurant where he broke your heart, you you you. god knows all the ways he’s thought about you, in spite of himself, with an alcohol burn to the back of his throat or stone-cold sober. some mistakes stick around, and what he said to you that night is undoubtedly the clingiest one he’s ever made. he knew it then, and he knows it now — seeing your face, however hesitant or worried you might look, is enough for him to know he’s still dead gone over you.

he shakes himself back to reality. "yeah," he says. "i'm okay. you look...great. happy."

"i am," you reply, and he notices, like a knife to his chest, you playing with a glittering ring on your finger, a nervous habit.

"is that --" he says, pointing, "what i think it is?"

you look down at your hand. "oh, yeah!" you exclaim, and despite yourself you smile broadly. "yeah, it is. um, it's pretty new, though. just happened last week."

"does he treat you right?" seungcheol asks, his eyes serious, his tone sharper than he intended. he'll know if you're lying, he always does.

so when you nod, thinking about the man you'll marry, about how he's sweet and gentle and knows how to pull a smile out of you on your very worst days, seungcheol's heart breaks a little more. because he knows it’s true, which means it’s all really over. the fire that kept your relationship with him alive has burned out, and he's the only one with any ashes left to spare.

he musters a smile as well. "good. i'm happy for you. well, it was good seeing you again," he says, turning away. and he curses his eyes for stinging, because he knew if you saw him cry you'd feel guilty, but after everything he put you through, you deserve to just be happy -- happy and nothing else -- for once.

jeonghan it was gradual for him, but it could be traced back to a very specific moment: when he found that letter from you, the one you’d written in class before you’d ever decided to mean anything to each other:

“date me?” it read, with two checkboxes, yes or no. jeonghan remembers how he checked the box labeled “yes” with a crisp black pen to hand back to you, and the look in your eyes when you unfolded it, and the smiles on both of your faces after you’d made out in the boys’ bathroom on the second floor like a couple of love-drunk highschoolers.

that note had heralded feelings jeonghan was desperate to ignore. he had ended it with you. his life was a carefully orchestrated set of advantageous events. he was always the one in control, and he never, ever lost.

so why did he feel like the world’s most pathetic loser whenever he saw that stupid note?

in the end, he’d had to do some serious soul-searching to determine why he even cared so much. he’d been bored, he determined — bored because you were so easy to be around, bored because you never made him feel unsafe or unloved, bored because loving you wasn’t a game he could play to win.

even now, as he stared at the note in his hands, crumpled with the years, jeonghan fought off the urge to call you. he lurked on social media and saw you traveling, eating, living like you’d always wanted to live. just a week prior he’d nearly cried at a picture of you in front of a castle somewhere in Germany, your arms outstretched like you were ready to hug the whole world. it was so you — the castle, the pose, the huge smile in the photo, even the windswept hair. and it hurt so much to see how beautiful you still were.

and a part of him knew that if he called, you would come back for him. because that was who you were.

so he never called, even as he burned with a thousand regrets for all the things he’d done wrong. selfish as he might be, he wasn’t monstrous enough to rob you of a life that was fuller without him in it.

joshua. you really never could be mad at joshua. not even when your relationship was staggering to its painful end, not even when you both knew that it wasn't working, not even when he broke up with you and started dating someone he'd told you not to worry about.

and not now, when you've run into him at a restaurant, right around the two-year mark of the breakup. you weren't in a great place when you'd started dating joshua, and the relationship had brought out the very worst in you, prompting a long period of self-improvement following the breakup.

now, you're in an amazing place, so much so that you're actually happy to see joshua here -- still with the girl he left you for, but looking preoccupied until you called his name and he met your eyes.

his eyes light up. "hi!" he says. "wow, it's you!"

"it is," you say, smiling. "how are things?"

he hesitates, and your heart sinks. you can tell that he hasn't done as well post-breakup as you have, and where the past you would've been a little smug about that, now you just feel compassionate. "things are crazy," he says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

because in truth, joshua's looking at you, and though his hand is on the knee of the woman he thought would be better for him than you were, he's wishing he could stand up and hug you. here you are, just like in his memories but better, because your eyes are bright with life and your brows aren't knit together in worry like they always seemed to be when you were together.

joshua knew the relationship you'd had with him had been really hard on you. and he understood the reasons why it didn't work. you had been so insecure you couldn't see your own appeal, and joshua had been burnt out trying to prove it to you. and he could see that he'd made the right choice -- for you, at least.

because for him, every time he looked into the eyes of the woman he was with now, he wished they were yours.

this was an admission he couldn't make to himself until you were there in front of him, in a way he'd only let himself imagine after his lover was asleep next to him and he was drifting off himself.

and oh, it burns.

he doesn't say anything about it now -- that's going to have to wait for later, at home, where things are going to need to be said. but for now, he greets you politely, watching you leave after a bout of small talk that taught him nothing at all about where you ended up after he broke your heart. and he wonders vaguely if he'll ever, ever, ever forgive himself.

the odds aren't good.

junhui. "hey stranger," he says, and even after all the time and everything that has passed between the two of you, it still makes you ache a little.

but you muster a smile, a little wave. "hey jun."

"you're here for work?" it's not really a question he's asking, because you know he already knows that that's why you're on this particular street.

"yeah," you say anyway. "and you? what brings you here?"

he smiles to himself. "just needed some fresh air."

he'll never tell you that it's because he's been religiously coming here since you blocked his number two years ago, hoping this very thing would happen.

"how have you been?" you ask him, and he fights back memories of the times he spent without you, with someone else, knowing that if he remembers them it'll show on his face.

"good," he lies. never mind that at the back of his closet is a hoodie he let you borrow, and it's hidden back there because it still smells like you. never mind that he's been spending day after day in this same stupid alley where you film those same videos for your job, hoping that you'll show up so he can see you. "and you?"

"i'm happier than ever," you tell him.

and you look it. you look happy. happier than you were with him.

with a funny feeling in his stomach, jun turns away from you with a little wave. "well, it was good to see you again. i'm glad you're happy."

he'll never come back to this street again.

soongyoung. "what are you doing here?" asks soonyoung with wide eyes.

you gesture to the man at your side. "i'm here on a date, actually," you say. and oh, thank goodness you look good, and your date (who is your longtime boyfriend, actually) looks good, because, well, soonyoung also looks good. and you're glad you've run into him at an opportune moment for you.

"oh," he says, looking at the man beside you. "uh, you must be..."

"my boyfriend," you finish for him. "this is soonyoung," you say to your boyfriend.

your boyfriend gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. he's heard all about the man who broke your heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to pick up all the pieces and put them back together again. he doesn't mind doing it, but because of how badly you were hurt, he has spent more time than he'd like to admit wishing you'd never met the man in front of him right now. "hi," he says, shaking soonyoung's hand.

"hi," soonyoung says breathlessly. "wow, uh...nice to meet you. i'm, well..."

"my ex," you say with a smile. "it's okay. he knows."

of course he knows, soonyoung thinks to himself. of course you had to have had the discussion about how your previous boyfriend fell out of love with you.

or thought he had.

"how's ... um... i don't remember their name," you admit, trying to recall the person soonyoung had left you for.

"it didn't work out between us," he says quickly. "we broke up six months ago."

"oh," you say. "i'm sorry."

it's awkward now, the three of you standing there staring at each other, so you grab your boyfriend's hand. "well, it was good seeing you," you say as you pull him away.

you have a nice dinner with your boyfriend and even laugh over the encounter later. but soonyoung is haunted for months. because he noticed how safe and easy it was between you and your boyfriend, and it reminded him of how you used to act with him before he messed everything up.

wonwoo. as cautious and careful as wonwoo always was about everything, regret was not a common experience for him. so it was quite the shock when he found himself filled with it night after night following his split from the person he left you for.

when he'd broken up with you, you'd sincerely wished him well, and promised he'd never see you again if he didn't want to. and two years later, you'd kept that promise, never reaching out to him, never begging him for an explanation he didn't want to give, never worrying him with memories of the two of you when you'd been happy.

and this had been part of the reason why he'd broken up with his new girlfriend -- he kept remembering how unobtrusive you were. the way you fit into his life like a puzzle piece made for him. and even now, as he rereads all the passionately hateful texts his now-ex spams his phone with, he remembers you.

it's been forever since he unfollowed you on social media, but he looks you up all the same. he almost follows you again, almost likes your most recent post of you out with some friends, but thinks better of it.

you were so fair to him, so up-front and honest about everything. how unkind it would be, he thinks, to dredge up the past when you look so happy. how unpleasant for you, to be reminded of someone who hurt you so deeply.

so he shuts off his phone and sinks into bed, allowing the regret to wash over him like a wave.

jihoon. explaining that he'd fallen out of love with you was the second most exhausting task of jihoon's entire life. the most exhausting one, it turns out, was staying in a relationship with the person he'd left you for while pesky reminders of you kept flooding his brain.

after yet-another fight with his current partner, jihoon lies awake in bed, his jaw clenched, as he remembers how you'd make up with him after a fight, crawling into bed beside him and kissing his cheeks and whispering "i'm sorry", sometimes through tears, until he'd turn and embrace you back.

his current partner never apologizes or even admits any responsibility at all. as he lays there remembering how it felt to have your face buried in his neck, he comes to the shocking realization that he wishes it was you beside him still.

because with you, he knew he could always tap you on the shoulder and beat you to an apology, and it would be immediately forgiven. the guilt of having broken a heart like that is too overwhelming for him, and he suddenly needs to talk to you like he needs air in his lungs to live.

so he silently slides from bed, picks up his cell phone, and leaves the room. he dials your number from memory, having deleted it from his phone.

"your call cannot be completed as dialed," the voice says. he blinks and tries again. same response. it occurs to him that you may have blocked him for your own sanity, and the guilt intensifies, turning into tears he hates almost as much as he hates himself.

he spends the rest of the night with his phone in his hand, looking for any traces of you that may be left in the photos and memories there.

[canmom]

reading Herbert Mason's translation of the Epic of Gilgamesh, as you do!

I went with Mason's translation after I saw it quoted here and there and seemed pretty solidly written - but it isn't precisely right to call it a translation, more a retelling of the story as Mason understands it. so it's not a line by line translation, and some major parts of it are presumably interpolations or paraphrases.

i knew the broad outline of the story but it's fascinating to put it in context, and discover parts of the story i hadn't heard about. for example, i didn't realise the concept of droit du seigneur was part of this story - I'd thought that was basically a goofy myth about the medieval period, but here in the oldest surviving written story, it's just a thing the mythological king Gilgamesh does. though the exact translation seems a little contentious - Mason writes:

As king, Gilgamesh was a tyrant to his people.

He demanded, from an old birthright,

The privilege of sleeping with their brides

Before the husbands were permitted

But Wikipedia quotes a different translation by Stephen Mitchell which says:

He is king, he does whatever he wants... takes the girl from her mother and uses her, the warrior's daughter, the young man's bride.

The general thrust is similar in both cases, but the details of the custom are different. I don't have Mitchell's translation so I can't find how he describes the moment Enkidu arrives to interfere with Gilgamesh doing one of these kingly rapes (like let's not beat around the bush here, it's a different social context and whatever but you can't possibly say no to the demigod king).

Moving on...

Viewed with modern eyes, the transition between the first chapter and the second is kind of abrupt. We've got this great establishing story for Gilgamesh and Enkidu having a rather homoerotic fight and becoming best bros, but then we abruptly skip forward to Gilgamesh declaring that they're going to go fight a monster called Humbaba, and Enkidu is all like, no, that guy is way too high level, you'll die! Modern writing advice would hold that you'd want to spend some time building up Gilgamesh and Enkidu's relationship 'on screen' here, and perhaps foreshadow the existence of Humbaba a bit sooner to build up the threat a bit - but then I'm not carving this into stone tablets, I can afford to be a little bit roundabout, and who knows what's been lost? (scholars of the Epic probably have some idea lol)

The word used for Gilgamesh and Enkidu's relationship is 'friend'. This feels like it's probably a bit of a lossy translation to me - would lover/boyfriend be projecting too much? I obviously don't know the nuances of Sumerian that well, so maybe this is the best available word, but their relationship has a lot of physicality and a lot of affection.

The woman who goes to Enkidu in the wild and has a bunch of sex until he becomes civilised is described here as a 'prostitute'. My understanding was that she belongs to a religious role here, harimtu, that's usually translated as 'sacred prostitution' but apparently this identity is contested, and also she has a name, Shamhat? I don't know why Mason doesn't use her name. Shamhat has a pretty big role in changing Enkidu and convincing him to come meet Gilgamesh, but her own motivation isn't really explored.

Still, I don't want to come off as only complaining. Whether they originate in the Epic or with Mason, I'm enjoying a lot of the poetic turns of phrase in this version - the style is just the right level of minimal - simple appropriate words, but effective for that. Mason writes in verse, but doesn't rhyme - I'm not really familiar enough with meter to say more than that. There are a lot of fairly short, declarative sentences, mixed up with an occasional much longer metaphor across multiple lines. I think you could fairly easily delete the line breaks and just have prose, but having them makes it flow in an interesting way, like waves? Poetry is not my bailiwick so I'm probably describing some fairly basic facets of the medium, but it's interesting to observe.

I'll add more when I've read a bit more, I'll be in this train a while...

[superblysubpar]

12 Days of Superbly Subpar Writing:

This year (read my sappy 'thank you for a great year' here), I'm in the mood for some naughty (and I suppose a little nice) short, holiday/winter themed blurbs.

Here's how it'll work:

-select a Kiss AND an Action Prompt from the two lists below

kiss prompts action prompts

-send them over to me in an ask and if you'd like reader to be with steve harrington, eddie munson, (or both boys 👀 - just make sure you specifiy if you'd like it to lean towards one over the other, like in this eddie bf oneshot here) robin buckley, or nancy wheeler.

❄ Feel free to choose a version or AU of any of these characters I've already written too! (like WCIL boys, boyfriend steve as seen here, newlyweds who fuck in churches, modern hopelessly in love steve, wealthy man, mechanic, best friend...the dads - you get the picture!)

-Let me know if you'd like your request to lean more naughty (smut) or nice (mainly fluff) - however they all will contain at least hints or nods to NSFW material, so keep that in mind. I'm an 18+ Blog, please respect this.

-Feel free to send some more details you'd like included, most will have an overall winter theme/some specific activities may be mentioned - but please specify if you wish for no holiday mentions at all.

Please make sure you're aware of the guidelines on my blog and about my writing before requesting.

Requests are currently: CLOSED - thank you

Posting will occur between December 12th-24th

[v3nusxsky]

Hey first of all, I love your stories :) have been reading them for days and can’t get enough of them.

I have a question, could you possibly write a morticia/Larissa/ f reader story? Something like reader is a teacher at Nevermore and goes into Larissa’s office and being in thoughts she just forgets to knock and she catches morticia and Larissa making out, reader flushes and wants to flee but then they start seducing r and they both „fight“ over being the dominant and figure out a punishment for r ( funishment being edging, spanking or whatever you decide) , for not knocking but in the end they have a great threesome and decide to make it their staple once or twice a month to meet ;)

Thank you have a great day :)

Accidentally on purpose 18+

*Authors note~ I hope this is okay. I've done similar for Leonora lesso but less detailed. So here's my attempted at a detailed Larissa version.*

Trigger warning~threesome strap on degrading praise edging

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You were the newest staff member at Nevermore Academy, it was an adjustment for sure yet you couldn't have been any happier doing your dream job and being around the students made you happy. Your were the schools new sorcery teacher, and you truly felt so welcomed. You'd been told to that should you need anything at all, to go and find Larissa in her office. Maybe that's why you made your way there blindly, it was really only one of the few places you knew how to find.

You were so lost in thought of trying to make sure you found the right room, maybe that's why you just opened the door on autopilot, completely forgetting that knocking was customary. Although what lay on the other side of the door reinforced why knocking was a necessity.

Larissa sat at her desk, with the potions teacher sat on her lap as they were otherwise engaged. You felt your cheeks flushing at the sight alone, your sexuality being rather private considering you'd only recently started here. The women dressed in a skin tight floor length dress with raven black long hair was rubbing her hands all over the headmistress's body, while Larissa's hands found their way to her back and tangling in her hair. Neither of them seeming to notice the new arrival in the room until you coughed trying to disguise your true feeling at the sight.

Both women pulled apart to assess who was here, both seemingly having the same idea as they allowed their eyes to roam your body before glancing at each other. You felt torn under their gaze, half of you wanting to apologise and leave the room and the other wanting to see where things would go. You must have worn your confusion on your face because both women were up and at your side instantly. Larissa coming to whisper in your ear while Morticia took a hold of your hand and brought it to her lips.

"Um I uh I'm sorry I should've knocked" you whimpered enjoying the attention but also confused. "Oh Rissa we have a shy one? Let me play with her please" she purred and Larissa just smirked and nipped your ear, "want us to play with you sweetheart?" All you could do is nod your consent allowing them to lead you into Larissa's adjoined bedroom. Morticia was quick to claim your lips with her own while Larissa moved around the room preparing what she would need for her girls.

"Tisha darling why don't you share are guest? Go sit pretty for me darling" Larissa purred and Morticia moved herself from you following the command. It was very clear the Larissa would be the more dominant and apparently Morticia opting to slip in as a middle. Truthfully, the idea of being used by the women exciting you. Larissa made quick work kissing over down your neck before sucking on your pulse point. "Sweetheart your okay with this right? You don't have to do this love" she whispered pressing kisses on your cheeks. "I want to" you whimpered before claiming Larissa's lips with yous. There was a distant whimper from the bed as Morticia sat pretty watching the show.

Larissa stripped your clothing down as well as her own leaving all three of you bare and accessible. Larissa giving Morticia a kiss before instructing you to settle between Morticia's milky white thighs. You immediately placed sloppy kisses and nips marking up her pale thighs before being your mouth to her core. She was absolutely soaked and you couldn't help but lap up the slick that lay there. You were vaguely aware of Larissa sitting on Morticia's face, instructing her to please her while moaning a string of filthy comments. "Yes Tish! There good girl. Look at you letting us use you like the whore you are." The blonde moaned out cumming on the raven haired woman's face, drenching it in cum. You made sure Morticia was straight after falling over that pleasurable edge, all while rubbing your thighs together trying to gain some friction of some sort.

You stayed between her thighs as you lapped at her cunt gently cleaning her while Larissa and Morticia shared a passionate kiss. You felt the bed dip and a hand into your hair tugging it to signal they wanted up. Instantly, you realised that Morticia was off the bed and strapping up while Larissa kissed down your body and paid attention to your chest, you hardly noticed she had already shifted her female anatomy into a male version. She guided your hand down allowing you to feel just how hard she was for you. The gasp of shock allowed her to take advantage of the kiss you were sharing as her tongue explored your mouth.

"Mon chéri, isn't it time you shared the toy? I want to use one of pretty holes" she purred kissing the blondes neck. It was a little awkward but you were pulled up on your hands and knees, Larissa underneath you stroking her length while Morticia knelt behind adding lube to her black strap. In tandem they bother entered your needy holes in sync. Once they found the rhythm, you swore you'd never felt anything quite like this. All you could do is whimper and mewl at the pair as they used you as nothing more than their fuck toy. Edging you as part of your punishment for stumbling into the office without knocking all while teasing you, “it was accidentally on purpose was it sweetheart? Look at how you’re taking us both like the needy whore you are. Such a cock slut for us.” Not stopping until came three times, milking Larissa's cock with your pussys walls as she came inside of you. You all came down from your high exhausted but stated. You all knew this had to happen again in the near future.

Despite the unusual situation both the elder women provided you with the best after care you had ever experienced. They were kind and gentle whispering words of care and reassurance between you all. The three of you ended up snuggled in bed with each other where you all fell asleep.

Word count~ 1205

[dongslinger--420]

Hey guys, can I just say something? Oh I'm sorry, I don't wanna mispronounce your name. It's Diane. You'd probably get sick of me. I don't think that's going to happen. You're not gonna make me look like an asshole, are you? I don't know, are you an asshole? I found this letter back at the bar, I think it's for you. That's the nicest letter he ever sent to me. A Diane thing would be something that shows he really knows you, like giving you an iPod loaded with all your favorite podcasts, or a practical houseplant, or surprising you with a bound album of photos and emails he saved. I think it took a lot of guts to do what you did back there. Why did you have to make things weird, BoJack? I made things weird? Hey stranger. I need you to tell me that I'm a good person, tell me, please, Diane, tell me that I'm good. I don't think I believe in deep down. I kind of think all you are is just the things that you do. I really wanted you to like me, Diane. I know. When have you ever been on my side? I am always on your side! Really? Like when you wrote that book? This is bigger than you and me, and I need you in my corner now because I don't have anyone else. I'm in your corner. Hey, is it cool if I crash here for a couple nights? I don't know where else to go. You SUCK, Goober! Go sit on a sharp DICK you piece of SHIT! I always tell people you're like the not-cool version of me. Sometimes that's great, but it also means we can bring out the worst in each other. I'm embarrassed by the person I was when I was staying with you. I make you unhappy? I don't know if I believe in real lasting happiness. I wanted to make sure you're ok. That's a funny way of saying congratulations. I don't fetishize my own sadness. I don't fetishize my own sadness! Sure. BoJack, there are millions of people who are better off for having known you. Why didn't you tell me this? I guess to preserve some fiction of journalistic objectivity. I wish you didn't get so distant after you moved out, you know me better than anyone and you can't not be a part of my life. Everyone belongs in Los Angeles, there's like, no barrier for entry. Oh god, that's true, they do let in just anybody. I've missed you, BoJack. I've missed you too. I should've called you. Yeah, you should've. I said I was sorry. No you didn't. Ok. BoJack, I can't wait for you to be better, I need you in my life. You're the biggest asshole I know and you're the only thing that makes sense to me. When have you not told me how you really felt. All you do is tell me how you really feel. I'm a sad, sad girl with a terrible, dirty apartment. Come on in! Isn't it weird that this is the first time we're both single at the same time? I just really need a friend right now. You know what I mean? A friend? Yeah. I have this friend, and right around when I first met her, her dad died. Diane, come on, it's me, we're the same! We are not the same! We'll just put that in the large bucket of things we don't talk about. Baby Bjorn Borg. Oh my god, yes! You haven't changed at all. Yes! Congratulations! You are the last person to get that. I need you to write one of your take downs about me. I am done writing about you. I don't understand why you're being so nice to me. After everything you know about me, all the shit I put you through. And now you're here, and I hate you, but you're my best friend, and you need me. I can't leave if I don't know you're gonna be ok. I live in Chicago, I can't save you. So what do I do now? BoJack, it doesn't matter. Well if it doesn't matter, can I stay on the phone with you at least? Ok. How was your day? Good. Yeah? Yeah, my day was good. I wish I could've been the person you thought I was, the person who would save you. That was never your job. Then why did you always make me feel like it was? You don't owe me anything. No, I need to tell you: Thank you. And, it's going to be okay. And, I'm sorry. And thank you. Life's a bitch and then you die, right? Sometimes. Sometimes life's a bitch and then you keep living. Yeah. But it's a nice night, huh? Yeah. This is nice--MR BLUE

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I wanna ask about all of your WIPs but if I have to choose

I’m so intrigued by the D&D Game one! 👀👀

So someone made a poll asking who would be most likely to play D&D, and while I voted Chim, that quickly sent me off into a spiral because, well, most of them I think would enjoy it? Buck would have a lot of fun,and Bobby's the right age he probably grew up with the original version and would be a great DM and enjoy helping Harry and his friends learn, Athena and Hen would I think both deeply enjoy the battle/strategy element, and Chim would fling himself so hard into the roleplaying that everyone else would be a little concerned. He'd show up with a pile of papers several inches thick about his backstory.

(He is the only one who comes prepared with a backstory. Bobby nearly weeps with joy.)

The idea of the 118 playing D&D just delighted me so very much. And then I realized - Buck and Eddie would 100% be the idiots who romanced each other through their characters (something I have seen happen in real life, actually).

So a bit of an in-joke among the TTRPG community is that your first character is a lot more like you than you'd ever want to admit and there are several jokes about D&D being group therapy, etc. And Buck and Eddie would 100% fall into that category. Maddie would, I think, be someone who struggles for a while to get the hang of the rules and be a bit tentative on the roleplaying (but would play a bard and 100% write little songs she sings for her spells while Chim stares at her with heart eyes across the table), Athena and Hen would get really into their characters' rivalry, and Chim would have a lot of fun NOT being himself, but Buck and Eddie? Totally accidentally playing themselves.

And they're not aware of it.

So their characters are growing closer, having these long intimate talks - they even will roleplay as their characters privately over text so that they don't monopolize the whole night - saving each other in battle, giving each other gifts, etc. EVERYONE can tell what's happening but Buck and Eddie are just like aww our characters are having such a great slow burn! We're so secure in our masculinity and our friendship that we can roleplay this!

So the fic is the two of them realizing their feelings for one another by roleplaying in D&D while everyone else silently suffers.