#this is one of those shots that just has me going | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grison-in-space · 1 day ago

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I remember this happening. I was fourteen and living in Georgia, and I was pretty sure I was queer and equally pretty sure that no one was ever going to leave me alone about it. There's a great song about the moment by Vienna Teng, I hope someone has linked it for OP by now.

The moments I remember are a decade later: having spent a year of graduate school tied to Texas admitting to myself that I was unhappy with the idea that my relationships were going to have to stay online only until I graduated with the PhD and could leave Texas again, because hell would freeze over before Texas did shit for us. Didn't matter I was living in Austin, one of the first cities in the nation to legalize the civil union shit back in the 90s; I was always going to be a second class citizen that way. Immigration wasn't an option.

And then, while I was working in the field in Costa Rica, Windsor came down. Suddenly immigration from Canada was an option. Suddenly we could talk about it. So we did. And we started scrambling to take advantage before it got taken away, because it probably would, but we had learned from y'all that even if it got taken away later, the having was important. Once you were legally in the country, deportation would have been harder, right?

I was one of the second wave of people with transnational relationships taking advantage of immigration in the post-DOMA world. (Defense of Marriage Act, children: ol' Bill Clinton signed that into law in 1996, so that we filthy queers couldn't ever touch the protections afforded by a federally recognized marriage.) It was a hell of a ride. We had to travel to Boston to get married because T thought an American certificate would carry more weight with immigration than a Canadian one. We couldn't actually afford to live together without both of us working, so we had to decide whether it was worth trying on the strength of one delighted October week long visit, get married and then put our petition through. We stayed on my friend @queenieofaces 's floor for the week of my spring break in 2014 and she married us to save money, which was not exactly something we had a lot of at the time or since. Then we both went home to our own countries for a year while we assembled the legal packets, petitioned the federal government, and started trying to navigate the immigration system.

Almost everyone I met outside our families was excited for me, sometimes to an extent that felt ridiculous. We were getting married because it was a shot at getting to live together, but we were both acutely aware of the possibility of failure, of just how much we were sacrificing for a shot at a relationship. The kinds of decade long affairs where marriage was just the legal affirmation of the households that already existed were inspirational, but not us: we were taking a risk and leaping for one another, but it was a leap, not an embrace quite yet. We talked earnestly about pre nuptial agreements before discovering, slightly shame-faced, that those are really designed for people with assets greater than a single subcompact hatchback and a laptop. computer.

(A decade later, and we've nevder had the stability to put through T's citizenship paperwork. That's changing now, slowly.)

My apartment had burned down that summer of 2013, and my car got totaled that winter, and I had to deal with a lot of insurance paperwork. Sometimes the paperwork required additional in person signatures for spouses and I would have to ask: "ah, uh: what law requires the paperwork?" See, I spent a year and change married for the purpose of federal law, single for the purposes of state law, and married again for purposes of municipal law. No one ever writes down what law they use to generate a policy, but no one wanted to mail documents to Toronto and back for signatures, either. So no one was quite sure what I should do on the paperwork.

It was chaos. T spent the entire entrance interview trying to convince the confused man at the consulate that it was actually fine to immigrate to Texas on a Massachusetts wedding license even though Texas would not recognize the marriage. We got approved and moved and I went to put T on my insurance. Then I discovered that Texas outright banned any of its state employees (|ike me!) from extending benefits to partners unless their marriage was recognized by the state of Texas. I had about a week to start panicking about that and then Obergefell hit the ground.

We just left work and went down to the Capitol and everyone was cheering and hugging each other and crying. All the bars and the liberal churches were open. We listened to speeches and stories and went dancing. It was beautiful.

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#city hall #marriage #Spotify

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mononijikayu · 23 hours ago

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water — gojo satoru.

"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—" "I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go." And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: afab!, romance, smut, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, exhibitionism, kissing, making out, fingering (f! receiving), oral sex (f! receiving), rough sex, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (lover, babe, etc), characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, sorcerer! gojo satoru, sorcere! reader;

WORD COUNT: 5.5k words.

NOTE: this song hasn't been out of my head since it came out and now tyla has new music out and i just know it will slap and i will dance to it. i wanted to make sure satoru's first since i haven't written for him in a while!!! this begins this playlist!!! i hope you enjoy side 2000!!! i love you all and see you in the next one <3

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 2000;

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU JUST WANTED TO ENJOY THE PARTY. It’s been a while since you’d found yourself trying to destress from work and the busy push and pull of life. And with Satoru’s schedule being the chaotic mess it was, it was always so rare for the two of you to go out for way too long and have fun together, with schedules that contradict each other.

So, when your next door neighbors finally debuted their pool at their house, they decided to throw a barbecue party for the neighborhood. When you told Satoru about it, he told you he was willing to take a day off. And knowing that, you knew you were taking the opportunity, even just for tonight, to loosen up. Isn’t that what life’s all about?

The evening sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the pool, the perfect backdrop for a party that was only just beginning to heat up. Laughter and music filled the air, but your eyes were locked on one person.

There he was, that bright eyed man Gojo Satoru, standing at the edge of the pool with his signature grin, a drink in hand. His bright snowy white hair was damp from a quick dip, droplets of water clinging to his skin as he watched you approach.

You could feel the heat of his gaze as you slid into the water, your body moving effortlessly through the cool pool. The tension between you was thick, the playful banter from earlier simmering into something much more intense as the night wore on.

"Looking a little wild tonight, babe." Satoru teased, his voice dripping with amusement as you swam up to him. He set his drink aside, his blue eyes glinting with a challenge. "Think you can keep up?"

Normally, you’d throw a sarcastic retort his way, but tonight was different. Tonight, something in you wanted more. The playful banter wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel his hands on your skin, to see if he could really make good on all those teasing words.

"You think you can handle me?" you shot back, your voice low and sultry as you moved closer, the water swirling around you both. The music pulsed in the background, the beat matching the thrum of anticipation coursing through your veins.

Satoru’s sly little grin widened, his fingers trailing lazily along the edge of the pool. "I don’t know, babe." he drawled, his voice laced with mock uncertainty. "But I’m more than willing to find out."

Without another word, you pushed forward, closing the distance between you, pressing your body against his. The cool water contrasted with the heat of his skin, and the contact sent a shiver of desire through you.

"Normally, lover boy…." you whispered, lips brushing against his reddening ear. "I can keep my cool. But tonight, I think…I think we need some heat, don’t you think?" You trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between you.

Satoru's hands found your waist, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your neck. His blue orbs clashing against your own, mischief echoing in their very color.

"Good that you agree with me." he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your throat. "Because I like it when you’re a little wild."

Your heart pounded in your chest as his hands roamed over your body, the slickness of the water making every touch feel even more intimate. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you slightly, pressing you against the pool's edge, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, blue eyes darkened with desire. "Can you handle this, babe?" Satoru’s vibrating voice was a low, dangerous rumble, full of heat and promise. “Can you really?”

Your breath hitched, the tension between you unbearable. "Why don't you show me how hard you can go, lover boy?" you challenged, your voice breathless, your body already burning with anticipation. “I’m sure….I can try.”

With a wicked grin, Satoru leaned in passionately. It was almost immediate, the way he was capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His ferious tongue teased yours, slow and deliberate.

Your lover always makes it a point to have a shot in tasting every inch of you as his hands explored your body under the water. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as the kiss deepened, the world around you fading away.

Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands set your body on fire, making you sweat despite the coolness of the water. You could feel him, hard and ready against you, and the need for more, so much more. Everything about him was overwhelming. And you loved it, you loved it too much.

"Satoru, oh—" you gasped as he kissed a trail down your neck, your body arching into him, desperate for every ounce of contact. "You're making me lose my breath like always."

"Good." he murmured against your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping you tighter. "Because like always, I’m not done with you yet."

His mouth found yours again, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The heat between you both was scorching, your bodies pressed together in the water, moving in perfect rhythm. His lips traveled down your throat, his teeth grazing your collarbone, leaving you gasping, breathless.

"Then make me sweat, lover boy." you whispered against his ear, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw as his hands moved under the water, teasing your thighs, pulling you closer. “Make me feel good, like the water.”

Satoru groaned, a sound that sent a thrill through you. "I plan to, babe." he promised, his voice thick with desire as his hands gripped your waist.

He grins as he is lifting you slightly, pressing you harder against the pool's edge. "And when I'm done, you're gonna be begging me for more."

His words sent a shockwave of heat straight through you, and you could feel yourself trembling with need. The water around you felt like it was boiling, every touch from Gojo Satoru was igniting sparks of pleasure that raced through your body. He was taking over you, every bit of you — like he always does.

"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—"

"I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go."

And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.

Everything was just getting started.

And Gojo Satoru was still pretty hungry.

He liked having his fill of you every single time.

Your heart raced as Satoru’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you anchored while the rest of your body felt like it was spiraling out of control. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against your skin sent jolts of electricity through you, making you lose track of time, place, and everything else that wasn’t him.

The party noises faded into the background. The splashing of the pool, the music, the chatter of distant voices, none of it mattered anymore. It was just you and Satoru, bodies pressed together, the water swirling lazily around you as if time itself had slowed to match the intensity of the moment.

"Still think you can keep up, babe?" he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and teasing. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief, but beneath it, there was a hunger. There was this endless raw, desperate need that mirrored your own. “I wanna go as fast as I can with you.”

"Don’t worry about me, lover boy." you shot back, breathless but determined, your hands sliding down his slick chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. "I can handle you."

Gojo Satoru’s grin widened at the challenge, his lips pressing hard against yours in a bruising kiss. All you could do was let him win, as you groaned against the pleasure of his searing touch. Even the heat of the passion was burning on water.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if he wanted to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingertips. The water between you only heightened the sensation, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the heat that burned where his skin met yours.

"I’ll make you sweat more, babe. I promised you." he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if he could barely contain himself.

His lips trailed down your neck again, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed and nipped his way down to your collarbone, making you gasp with each new touch. You could feel your body responding to him, heat pooling low in your stomach, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

"Satoru, lover boy. Oh, you’re…." you moaned, his name slipping from your lips before you could stop it, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you tighter as he pressed you back against the edge of the pool. His lips were relentless, moving across your skin like fire, making you tremble beneath him. You were losing control, your body melting under his touch, every nerve lit up in anticipation.

"That’s right," he whispered, his voice dark and full of promise. "Let go for me."

You didn’t need any more convincing. Your hands tangled in his wet hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing against his in a feverish kiss, your body moving against his as if you couldn’t get enough. His hands slipped lower, teasing you, making you gasp as the pleasure built higher and higher.

"Satoru. You’re so…." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I can’t—"

"Yes, you can." he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You can take it. I’ll take you there."

The heat between you was unbearable now, the tension building with every kiss, every touch, every whispered word. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body straining for release, every nerve in your body on fire.

"Come on, baby," Satoru murmured, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer, his lips hot against your skin. "Just let go for me."

And you did. The pleasure hit you all at once, like a wave crashing over you, stealing your breath and making you cry out as your body shook with the intensity of it. You clung to Satoru, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he held you steady, riding out the aftershocks of your release with slow, deliberate kisses that left you trembling.

"That’s my pretty babe, hm?” he whispered, his voice soft now, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss. "You did so good."

You could barely catch your breath, your body still buzzing with the afterglow as you leaned back against the edge of the pool, your legs still wrapped around him. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and saw that familiar, lazy grin on his face—the one that said he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.

"Think you’ve still got some energy left?" he teased, his hands moving up your sides, his thumbs brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "You think I can’t keep up? Haven’t I shown you something good, lover boy?"

His grin widened, and he leaned in close, his lips hovering just above yours. "Oh, I know you can, babe." he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "But I’m not done making you sweat just yet, you know?”

You both disappeared, finally slipping away from the crowd and into the shadows, your lips still locked in a feverish kiss. The night air was thick with the scent of chlorine and heat, but all you could focus on was Satoru. Only him. His hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

The two of you managed to find yourselves in a secluded corner, hidden from prying eyes. His lips trailed down once more your neck, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against the cool tile wall, your skin burning with need as his mouth worked wonders against your throat.

“You’re wild tonight, babe.” Satoru murmured, his voice thick with desire, fingers grazing your hips, teasing. His usual cocky grin spread across his face as he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring every second.

“And you love it, don’t you?” you shot back, breathless as you tangled your hands in his hair. The thrill of the night, of being wrapped in his arms, made your pulse race, your body crave more.

Without a word, Satoru dropped to his knees before you, and your breath hitched. You knew what he was doing. His hands parted your legs as his gaze burned into yours, the heat of his anticipation palpable in the air.

The smirk on his face sent a shiver through you, but that shiver turned into pure heat when his lips met your inner thigh, trailing kisses up, up, until you could feel his hot breath against your core.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your body aching for his touch.

He didn’t hesitate. His tongue found you, and your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips as he devoured you like a man starved. You bit your lip as a plethora of pleasured moans released from your lips.

There was no restraint, no gentleness—just hunger. His mouth was messy, his tongue moving in ways that had your legs trembling, and the slick from your arousal coated his chin as he worked you with an unrelenting passion.

The sounds he made, deep, guttural groans of satisfaction, it only heightened the pleasure, and the way his hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady. Everything about it made you feel like you were about to come undone at any moment.

If anything, he was too hungry for your cunny. And he wouldn’t stop even if you wanted him too. He was hungry for you. He always was. He lapped at you, his tongue swirling and flicking with precision, like he was trying to draw out every moan, every gasp from your lips.

“Satoru… oh my god….” you gasped, your fingers threading through his white hair rougher as your body arched towards him, desperate for more.

He pulled back for just a moment, his chin glistening with your slick, eyes dark with lust as he grinned up at you. He’s having fun with this, he always has. If anything about Satoru, he doesn’t like playing fair when it comes to eating.

“You taste so damn good, babe.” he growled, his voice low, feral, before diving back in. “How come you’ve become sweeter?”

“You…You tasted me last night, oh—”

“What can I say, babe? You always just get sweeter for me. And I love it.”

You groaned against his words. But he just laughed once again and dived in. If one had thought that he couldn’t go any deeper, any rougher, any hungrier, any messier — they would be wrong. He can go even more than that. You knew your lover way too well.

The way his mouth moved against you was nothing short of sinful. Sloppy, messy, and so damn good. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, like he was trying to consume every part of you. Your body was shaking, legs threatening to give out as the pleasure built inside you, and all you could do was grip his hair tighter, riding his tongue as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers slid inside you while his mouth never left its place, curling perfectly as he stretched you out. The combination of his fingers and his mouth working together had you spiraling, your moans echoing through the air, louder now, unable to hold back as your body begged for release.

“Fuck, Satoru, don’t stop. Please, don’t.” you moaned, barely coherent, the intensity too much, but you didn’t want it to end.

He didn’t slow down, he had no reason to. Not when you’re egging him on. Not when he wants you too badly. Not when it all just felt so good. You could feel his tongue moving with expert precision, his fingers thrusting deeper, harder, until you were teetering on the edge of oblivion.

You could feel the tension building, that delicious, overwhelming pressure that made it impossible to think of anything other than him—his mouth, his fingers, the way he was devouring you like you were the last meal he’d ever get.

And then, without warning, you shattered. The orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing as pleasure flooded every nerve, and Satoru didn’t stop. His fingers continued to move, his tongue still lapping at you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were trembling, breathless, completely undone.

He pulled back slightly, his lips and chin slick with your sweet decadent release, and he looked up at you with a satisfied grin. That sly look, he always has that excitement when he makes you feel this way. Gojo Satoru believes he always has to win, one way or the other.

“You taste like heaven, babe. A hundred percent heaven.” he murmured, his voice rough, hoarse, as he licked his lips, savoring the taste of you.

You could barely catch your breath, your body still trembling as you leaned back against the rough brick wall for support, staring down at him with a dazed smile. Sweat permeated through your skin as you caught yourself back to some sense again.

“You’re unbelievable, Satoru.” you muttered, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to recover from the intensity of it all.

Satoru took a moment to meet your orbs. Once more, they echoed that same desire. He was still hungry, he was still wanting more. Your lover rose to his feet, his body pressing against yours once again as he captured your lips in a heated kiss once again.

You moan against the roughness of his desire, pushing against his tongue with your own. Almost instantly, you could taste yourself on his lips, the remnants of your slick still clinging to him, and it only made you crave him more.

“You love it, babe.” he whispered against your mouth, his hands sliding up your body, possessive, confident. “And well, so do I.”

You couldn’t deny it. The way he had you, completely under his control, yet giving you everything you wanted, was intoxicating. You were hooked, the moment you met Satoru. You knew that when you let him get deeper and deeper, you couldn’t live without him.

Without his kisses, his eyes, his warmth, his touch. One way or another, you were trapped with your want. You wanted more of him, like a greedy little vixen who won’t stop until you get what you wanted. And there was no turning back.

As you both pulled away and began dressing once again, the heat of the moment still thrumming between you, Satoru watched you with that mischievous grin, his cerulean eyes glinting in the low light. His hands brushed over your waist, teasing, as you adjusted your clothes, but there was still that lingering tension, that promise of more to come.

As you both stepped out of the secluded spot, you shot him a playful wink. “Try to keep up next time, Satoru.”

He chuckled, his smirk widening. “You think you can outlast me, doll?”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him roughly, your lips pressing against his with that same intensity from earlier. “Oh I know I can.”

And you wanted to prove that yourself.

Instead of going back to the party, it was your turn.

It was your turn to be just as hungry for him.

You took his hand, grinning at him and pulling him away.

There were still unoccupied guest beds after all.

Gojo Satoru couldn’t shake the feeling that he loved making you sweat even more than before. The heat of the moment radiated between you as you found yourselves in one of the bedrooms, the faint thump of the party still audible in the background, but all you could focus on was each other. The room felt electric, filled with anticipation and desire, and the scent of your skin only heightened his need.

You weren’t sure whose bedroom it was, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was the way he had you bent over, your hands gripping the edge of the bed as he pressed into you from behind. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pressure that sent shivers through your spine.

“God, you feel amazing.” he murmured with desire. “Babe, how are you always so good?”

You could hear how his voice reverberated low and rough as he playfully ran his hands over the mound of your ass, savoring the way it responded to his playful touch. Each squeeze elicited soft gasps from your lips, and he couldn’t help but smile wide at how perfectly you arched for him, begging for more of him in you.

With one hand pressed against your back, you guided him deeper and deeper inside of you, ensuring your body was perfectly positioned for him. The way your skin glistened bright under the low light was nothing short of divine, and every movement sent waves of heat coursing through every fiber of Satoru’s being.

The greedy echo sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a rhythmic echo that felt almost sacred to him. Gojo Satoru likes to think he was a worshiper and your body was his temple. And you were his god. You were his everything.

Each and every time he made love to you, it was like holy hymns reverberating through the air, fueling his desire further. He loved the feeling of being so deeply connected to you, the way your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

“Tell me you like this, babe.” he demanded, his voice husky with lust as he picked up the pace, driving into you with a steady force. “Tell me you feel gooddddd, oh—”

His hand shifted from your back to your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, using his grip to push you further onto him. Everything felt like a burning pandemonium as he got deeper in crevices in you that you never thought existed before.

You could feel your mouth watering, drooling as he pushed in and out of you, like he memorized the map and was finding it again, over and over. It was an interesting thing, how you could feel ever so alive just by being in his arms. By being so full of him. You know your lover boy feels the same thing too.

“Yes, yes, Satoru!” you gasped, your breath hitching as he hit that perfect spot, the pressure building with every thrust. You could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, and each of his movements only intensified it.

“Good girl, my good girl. My pretty little babe.” he praised, the raw satisfaction in his voice making your heart race even faster.

Gojo Satoru seems to thrive on this, every single time. He’d always been crazy. He knew that much. Much more so in bed. It was hard to find that genuinity of intimacy. Not only in the innocence of adoration, but the crazy roughness of sensuality.

So when he met you and you matched his crazy, he found himself thriving. He found himself living pleasure through you, in ways he’d never known before. And he’d been glad for that. He’d been glad for you.

It was the way you responded to him, the way you melted under his touch every time you made love. It was the sweat that bound your flesh together. It was the way you would bite him as he pounded deeper into you. It was the way his fingers would dig onto your thighs and mark them.

It was the way your nails would create a mess of bloody constellations on the neatness of his skin. It was the feeling of his fat balls slapping against your ass, the way your body reacted, was intoxicating. Every sound you made, every gasp, felt like music to his ears.

Everything you did, everything you gave him — it had made him feel so alive.

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Just for me, hm? Just for me.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but push back against him, wanting more, craving that deep connection that seemed to pulse between you. “More, Satoru. Please, don’t stop.”

He smirked slyly and immediately pushed to oblige, driving into you with renewed fervor> You cried out as the heat of the moment enveloping you both, his body pushing closer and closer to you, as though he wanted it to merge.

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you lost yourself in the rhythm, caught in a world that existed only for the two of you. You could care less if anyone were to walk in and see how deplorable this situation was. You could care less if someone screams in shock.

No, nothing else mattered. It was pleasure that mattered. There was only you in this universe, only him and you — wet by the water of sweat that pools between the desire to make each other whole.

“Damn, you’re perfect, babe.” he groaned, the sound vibrating through your body as he leaned into you more, the weight of him pressing you down, anchoring you to the moment. “So, so perfect.”

The way he played with you, using your body to bring himself pleasure, sent you spiraling into pure ecstasy. Nothing else has come close to making you both feel alive. It was just this moment that made you feel that life was worth living.

Just the two of you, the heat, the pleasure, and the way he made you feel alive. This was all that life needs. This was all what the Strongest needed to feel alive. Jujutsu was given to him from the moment he was born, it was as natural as breathing. But this moment with you, taking you as his own. Everything about this was his humanity.

This was primal. This was instinct. It was trial and error. And it was crazy. Nothing else will come close to how much he loves to be an animal with you. You groaned as you bit his shoulder hard, blood spoiling against his sweat. He groaned in pleasure, before grinning. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and the anticipation built until you could hardly contain it, ready to let go and embrace the bliss that awaited you.

Satoru's pace quickened, each thrust becoming more urgent, more desperate. You could feel him deep inside you, filling you completely, and every time he drove into you, your body responded with a jolt of pleasure that made your vision blur. You were utterly lost in the moment, overwhelmed by the sensations he was drawing out of you.

“God, you’re so tight, babe.” he groaned, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his composure. “How do you always know how to cage my cock? How do you always make it know where it belongs?”

He loved the way your body wrapped around him, how every inch of you seemed to beg for more. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with your soft moans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed around you.

“Don’t hold back, Satoru.” you urged, your voice a breathy whisper that barely escaped your lips. “I want all of you, Satoru. Just like this. Come. Just do it.”

That demand of yours sent a rush of adrenaline through him, and he grinned against your shoulder, he himself biting there as you groaned like a prey against the hunter. He lifted his mouth, and stared at his masterpiece for a little while longer. That was surely to leave a mark. He snickers.

“You asked for it, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you up against him, using his strength to drive you deeper onto him. The change in angle had you gasping, your head falling back against his shoulder as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“You feel so good.” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I could do this all night.”

“Then do it.” you urged, your body instinctively arching back into him, eager for every thrust, every delicious stretch. “Make me feel it.”

He laughs as he hits hard at one thrust, making your body shake against the covers. You groan hard as you try to hold on for dear life. You knew what you egged him to do. Then continued thrusting into you with a fierce intensity that had you moaning his name, your body responding eagerly to each movement.

It was as if the world outside had faded away, and all that existed was the connection between you—his body, your body, moving in perfect unison. The pleasure built inside you like a coiled spring, tightening with every thrust. You could feel that familiar tension, that edge creeping closer, and all you could think about was how good he felt, how right it all was.

“Satoru, I’m coming. Oh my god—” you started, but the words died on your lips as he hit that sweet spot again, sending shockwaves through your body.

“Yeah? You gonna come for me?” he teased, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, kissing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. The sensation made your entire body tingle, and you could only nod, the words lost in a haze of pleasure.

“Tell me how much you want it, babe.” he demanded, his voice a low growl that made your heart race even faster.

“More, please! I need to—ah!” The plea escaped your lips as he thrust deeper, the pleasure overwhelming. “I need to come, Satoru!”

“Then let go,” he urged, his voice dripping with seduction. “I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

With his words wrapping around you like a spell, the tension finally snapped, and you cried out as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was like you had seen the light for the first time with him.

It was so delicate and pure, that echo of unadulterated bliss that sent your body shuddering in pleasure. Satoru continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm with slow, deliberate movements that sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you.

“Just like that, babe. You feel so fucking good.” he groaned, his own breath ragged as he watched you unravel beneath him.

The sight of you losing yourself was intoxicating, even more so your juices mixing with his in a watery flow within your crevices. And he couldn’t help but feel that rush of pride at how he could make you feel this way.

As you came down from your high, Gojo Satoru slowed his movements, still keeping you close as he pressed kisses along your back. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you reveled in the afterglow, the way your heart raced in time with his.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern as he pulled back to look at you, his blue eyes searching your face.

“Better than okay, babe.” you replied with a breathless laugh, turning to meet his gaze. “That was… incredible.”

He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just wait until round two. I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “You’re insatiable, Satoru.”

“Maybe so, babe.” he replied, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss. “But I think you love it.”

You couldn’t deny it. The thrill of the night, the way he made you feel—it was a heady mix of excitement and desire that left you craving more. As you both pulled away, he gently squeezed your waist, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Let’s give them something to talk about when we go back out there.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll show you.”

And with that, he swept you into another kiss, ready to take on the world outside, but knowing that this was only the beginning of your night together. You had a lot more to sweat in water together, whatever the form.

252 notes · View notes

gtgbabie0 · 8 hours ago

Text

-Vi x Reader

Synopsis: {Date night gone slightly wrong but in the right type of way}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

!!-18//MDNI-!! Enjoy my lovelies 💕

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Vi was hotheaded, it was as simple as that, no matter how many times she laughs off the comment whenever you call her out for her behaviour, It was undeniable. The way she took the bait every damn time, which landed her with bruised knuckles and tiny cuts on her face, was almost impressive— she didn’t take shit from no one and you swear it would come back and bite her on the ass one of these days.

“Just sit still.” You tell her, pushing on her shoulders to keep her down on the kitchen chair with a small huff to which she groans in response.

It was meant to be a nice night, the pair of you going down to a bar in Zaun for a couple of drinks— and it was all dandy, to begin with… until some drunk idiot started running his mouth, sending Vi off on one.

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.” She shrugs, looking up at you with those powder blue eyes of hers that make your heart skip a few beats and butterflies flutter in your stomach. But you wouldn’t give in to her… not yet at least.

“That doesn’t make me feel better Vi.” You reply sternly, standing in between her legs as you tend to the nicks that were peppered over her face— the bridge of her nose and her bottom lip.

The sound of your tone makes her slouch back into the chair, a small pout pursuing at her lips as she rests her hands over the curves of your hips— sliding them across your ass that was accentuated by that tight dress, she just wants to rip it right off.

“Come on baby, please… I’m alright.” She tries once more with such a soft almost pleading tone as she grazes her fingertips along the backs of your thighs— trying to not so obviously pull you down on her lap, she just wanted to feel you against her, to kiss those pretty frowny lips of yours.

“Stop trying to distract me so I can clean you up properly.” You tell her with, your brows cinched together in a mixture of concentration and faux anger, trying to be as stern as possible despite how much you just want to cave in and let her run her hands all over your body.

Vi groans once more, for what has to be the one hundredth time tonight, letting you move her head to the side with your fingers curled around her jaw— wincing slightly when you press the antiseptic wipe to a small cut above her eyebrow.

“And you’re not ‘fine’ or ‘alright’.” You add under your breath, noticing the small cut on her lip not to mention her split knuckles that you still had yet to tend to.

She looks up at you with an unimpressed expression, clearly not a fan of your reprimands. “I just wanna kiss you,” she whispers roughly, letting her hands run along your curves slowly.

Vi knew she couldn’t convince you to drop it but maybe she had a better shot at persuading you…

“No, it’s your punishment for not behaving tonight like I asked you to.” So that would be a no.

It was all so unfair in her eyes, the guy was being a complete dick anyway. She drew the line at insults being thrown at you and that asshole completely catapulted over the line so in her mind it was only fair for her to catapult her fist into his ugly mug… she’d do it again without hesitation.

Vi’s blue eyes flicker up to your face as you press the antiseptic wipe to the cut on her lip but her mind isn’t focused on what you're doing— not when you’re leaning so close to her with your cleavage on show, that dainty necklace of yours dangling in front of her face and your sweet perfume that wisps around her, tantalising her.

It was so unfair.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” She points out, glancing at your chest as your fingertips press into her cheeks. “Shovin’ your perfect tits in my face.”

A small smirk ghosts against your lips at her mumbled words as you lean over her to rummage through the first aid kit, looking for nothing imparticular, just wanting to really give her a face full of your boobs— her fingertips dig into the fat on your hips in response, a slight warning.

“Yeah?— well you should’ve kept your fists to yourself.” You scold her, leaning a little closer just to tease her.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been a prick to us, baby.” She rebuts, grunting at your movements. “Was askin’ for a punch.”

“Do you know how much trouble—” you go to start again, keeping that stern tone that you so stubbornly refuse to drop and she’s just about had enough, her patience wearing impossibly thin.

Without a second thought, she’s standing up from the chair, immediately reaching out for you by your hips and pulling you back towards her— she relishes in the gasp you let out as she pushes you up against the kitchen table, looking at her with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Let’s get you outta this pretty dress, yeah?” She breathes, pushing a curl of your hair behind your ear before holding your face to keep you from turning your head— her thumb brushing along your bottom lip.

You fold almost immediately, it’s a little pathetic in all honesty, how quickly you nod your head with a glint of desperation in your eyes, mumbling a small, “Okay.”

Finally, after far too long spent humouring you she steals that sweet kiss she's been longing for. Her lips slotting in between your own like they were made for her, slow and greedily, with her tongue running along your bottom lip and into your mouth.

Your fingers grasp her shoulders, slipping into her hair in an attempt to ground yourself as she trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck— paying extra love to the special spots that have you arching into her toned body.

It all feels so dizzying as if the world was spinning on its axis— that familiar heat of excitement pooling in your lower abdomen, sending a tingle down your spine which is only accentuated by the feeling of her fingertips grazing along your spine as she tugs on the zip of your dress.

“There she is…” Vi mutters into the crook of your neck, pulling back only slightly to watch in awe as the silk of your dress ripples down your curves, to pool at your waist leaving your bra-clad chest on display.

The sight sends a tingle through her body, her fingers instantly brushing over the delicate lace. Vi can’t help herself, leaning forward to nip and kiss along your collarbones and across your chest. “My pretty, pretty girl.” Her words muffled slightly by your cleavage.

It felt so indescribably good, the roughness of her palm caressing along your inner thigh so agonisingly slow that it makes you whine— the sound sends Vi’s heart into a frenzy and even though she wants to make you wait for it as payback she just can’t.

Her hand dips beneath your dress as you instinctively spread your legs from where you’re perched on the edge of the kitchen table, leaning back on one hand as the other cups the back of her head— you tighten your grasp on her hair as her fingertips brush along the damp fabric of your panties and you can feel her smug smirk against your shoulder.

“Did it turn you on baby?— seeing me beat that guy up?” She whispers huskily, kissing up along your throat to brush her lips against the curve of your jaw.

“Yeah, yes, Vi… turned me on,” You breathe the confession, tilting your head backwards as an invitation for her to leave more kisses against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Mm, can tell— you’re fuckin’ drenched.” The words are whispered against your ear, a sense of pride bursting through her chest and bleeding through her tone as she continues to rub you over your underwear.

Vi pushes the wet fabric to the side, her fingers brushing through the coarse hairs of your mound and across your wet slit, coating her fingertips with your essence before pushing them against your clit— rubbing slow circles against you.

She whispers praises into your skin as she continues to leave marks all over your chest— her free hand unclasping your bra with ease as she continues to toy with your sensitive bud. “So fuckin’ wet, huh?” she mutters, drinking in the sight of your breasts.

You let out a breathless moan, whining some words that she can’t make much sense of— but she’s sure you’re just mindlessly agreeing with her, nodding your head as she kisses along your chest.

Vi dips her ring and middle fingers into your wet heat, pushing them deep up to the knuckle as your slick walls clench around her digits— curling them with slow deliberate strokes to draw out more of those sweet moans from your pretty lips, your hips bucking up into her hand.

You let out a pleasured cry as your clit catches on the heel of her palm, grinding a little more desperately against her to feel it again. “Oh baby, such a fuckin’ greedy girl f’me.” She chuckles, flicking her tongue across your nipple as she continues to slowly pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, the squelching of your wetness drives her insane.

“Gotta taste you— need your pussy all over my face babe.” With that, she’s tugging your panties off and dropping to her knees, causing the dining chair to fall over but she can’t bring herself to care, not even in the slightest, especially when you’re spread out on the kitchen table looking so delicious.

Vi grabs a handful of the fat on your thighs, holding them apart before practically nuzzling her face against your sex— her tongue licking a wet stripe along your folds, sucking and kissing at your clit, causing your hips to stutter against her mouth in reckless abandon.

“Feels s’good— oh Vi!” you whimper, one hand curling at the edge of the table and the other still buried in her hair.

She moans into the sensitive flesh about how “fucking amazing” you taste, her hands sliding from your thighs to press down on your hips in an attempt to keep you still— which in all honesty turns out to be a little pointless because you’re so possessed by the pleasure she’s giving you she’s pretty certain you don’t actually have control of your body.

Especially when her nose prods against your clit as she teases your needy hole with her tongue, lapping up your taste— drinking from you like you're some sort of fountain of healing. She could drown in you and die a happy woman.

“That’s it, baby, grind on my face.” Vi concedes, letting out a low chuckle into your wetness whilst she runs her tongue all over your cunt— dipping it inside your entrance as she brings her thumb to circle your clit. “Cum f’me baby, fuckin' drench my face with it..” she groans, feeling you get closer and closer until you’re tugging on her hair to bring her impossibly closer, grinding your pussy all over her mouth to chase after that high.

Vi drinks up your orgasm, every last drop until your hips stop rocking and your back lays flat against the oak table with a whimper— eyes fluttering close with a trembling breath. She presses a kiss to your inner thigh before pulling back, her lips and chin glistening with your release as she stares down at you with a lazy smirk.

“Fuck Vi—” you breathe, letting your legs drop over the edge of the table as she rubs your hips soothingly.

“Think you can make it upstairs?” She teases, watching as you push yourself to sit up— your arms looping around her shoulder as she steals a kiss from your lips, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“Mhm, if you carry me.” You whisper the words into the kiss and without missing a beat she’s hauling you up, your legs wrapped around her waist as she carries you up the stairs, far from done with you yet.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

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raekensluver · 15 hours ago

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the thanksgiving lie (introduction)

introduction, part one

description: every year, your mother calls to nag you about whether you're bringing anyone to thanksgiving. this time, you panic and say the first name that comes to mind- spencer reid.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fake dating trope, fluff

song rec: there is a light that never goes out by the smiths "and in the darkened underpass i thought, oh god, my chance has come at last"

w.c: 1.3k

an: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate!

"mom, i've got to go," you said, your eyes darting to the clock.

with the phone pressed to your ear, you could almost feel the anticipation radiating from the other side. "i know," your mom's voice chimed, "i'm sorry i just wanted to ask if you're bringing anyone special to thanksgiving this year?" her tone a perfect blend of hopefulness and curiosity. you paused, staring at the wall, the question hanging in the air like a forgotten halloween decoration. the clock ticked away, each second echoing louder than the last.

desperately, your gaze flitted around the room, searching for inspiration. and then, as if the universe had conspired to throw you a lifeline, it landed on spencer reid. he was engrossed in a book, the tip of his pen dancing across a notepad, lost in his own world of logic and analysis. you blurted out his name before your brain could catch up with your mouth. "yeah, actually, i might bring someone," you said, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. "who?" your mom's tone shot up an octave, excitement seeping through the line.

your heart pounded as you watched spencer, who remained blissfully unaware of the chaos he had just been unwittingly dragged into. you took a deep breath and hoped for the best. "spencer reid," you replied, as casually as you could manage. there was a beat of silence on the other end of the call, long enough for you to wonder if she had heard you correctly.

spencer looked up, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face as he met your eyes. you swallowed hard, your hand tightening around the phone. "spencer reid?" your mom repeated, her voice now filled with excitement. "the one who works with you at the bureau? oh, that's wonderful! i can't wait to finally meet the man who makes you talk about work even on weekends." she said, her voice brimming with approval. you nodded, even though she couldn't see you, feeling a mix of relief and dread. you hadn't even considered the possibility that she might actually believe you.

spencer's gaze remained on you, his brow furrowed slightly. you knew he had overheard your end of the conversation. your cheeks flushed as you realized you hadn't even asked him yet. "mom, i have to go now," you said quickly, cutting off any further questions she might have. "i'll let you know for sure when i know more, okay?" you didn't wait for her response before ending the call, the silence ringing in your ears.

you set the phone down, turning to face spencer. "so, about thanksgiving," you began, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. his eyes never left yours, the curiosity now a full-blown question mark. "yeah?" he said, his voice even, betraying no emotion.

swallowing your nerves, you plunged ahead. "i might have accidentally told my mom that i'm bringing someone," you admitted, watching for his reaction. spencer's eyebrows shot up, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "oh?" was all he said, his gaze never wavering.

you took his calm demeanor as a good sign and continued. "so, do you have any plans for thanksgiving?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as you could while your stomach was doing somersaults. "not particularly," he replied, setting his book aside and placing his notepad on the coffee table. "why do you ask?"

his curiosity had turned into suspicion, the gears in his brilliant mind already turning. "well, i kind of… mentioned that you might come with me to my family's dinner," you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth. his eyes widened a fraction, the only indication that he was surprised by your revelation. "you did?"

his voice remained neutral, but you could see the wheels turning behind those piercing blue eyes. "yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "i just thought, you know, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, and she's been asking every year if i'm bringing anyone special, and this year i just panicked and said your name." you rushed to explain, your words coming out in a jumbled mess.

spencer leaned back into his chair, his fingers tapping a silent rhythm on the armrest. "interesting," he said. "and what exactly does 'might come with you' entail?" he inquired, his gaze never leaving yours.

you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to organize your thoughts. "it means, if you don't have any plans, you could come with me to my parents' place for thanksgiving," you said, hoping the simplicity of the offer would be enough. "you know, to meet the family, eat some turkey, pretend to be my boyfriend for a night?"

his expression didn't change, but his tapping stopped. "pretend to be your boyfriend?" he echoed, his voice a tad skeptical. "what makes you think i would agree to that?"

you felt your cheeks grow hotter, but you didn't back down. "desperate times call for desperate measures," you said with a weak smile. "please, spencer. i don't know what else to do. she'll never let up if i go alone again."

spencer studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. then, with a sigh, he leaned forward. "alright, i'll do it," he said, holding up a hand to stop your relieved rush of words.

you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, but your heart remained in your throat. "really?" you asked.

"really," spencer said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "but only if you promise me one thing."

you nodded eagerly, willing to agree to almost anything at this point. "anything," you said, hope blossoming in your chest.

"you have to tell me everything about your family," spencer said, his smile growing slightly. "i want to be prepared."

you nodded, a wave of gratitude washing over you. "i will," you promised, "i'll fill you in on the drive."

spencer's smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "deal," he said, standing up and extending his hand to shake on it. you took his hand, feeling a jolt of excitement run up your arm. "thursday it is,"

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #ssa spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #matthew gray gubler

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pinkofatom · 9 hours ago

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Phantasma's stage - Colin's change

Colin listened to the boasts of the hypnotist. His eyes lingered on her tight corset, those fishnet covered svelte legs. But he had to snort at her idiocy. As if she could make anyone act like a girl. All of this was obviously a scam. She had definitely some people placed in the audience to play along. That's why he raised his hand when she called for volunteers. She would never pick a guy like himself. A proud man.

But her emerald gaze locked with his. Glistening red lips curled up. "Oh yes," she cooed, "you will do nicely." With an outstretched gloved finger she beckoned him on stage.

He followed. Her perfume invaded his senses as he climbed on the stage. Something flowery and exotic.

She leaned in. Long lashes batted at his gaze and she whispered into his ears. Hot air caressed his skin. "Now, now," the words tickled down his spine, "don't be so nervous." She chuckled and Colin had goosebumps.

With her high-heeled boots clicking ominously, the great Phantasma walked back to the middle of the stage. "As you can see, my dear audience, our volunteer needs a little dose of calm." She ended the sentence with a little laugh. One echoed by the people. "And I shall grant him just that." Polite applause and louder cajoling interrupted her. "Thank you. Thank you. But we have not even started. Now, my dear volunteer, what is your name?" The question directed at him.

His throat was so parched. His lips stuck to his dried gums. "Uhhh..." he managed, "it's Colin."

Her high heels clicked again. The woman swayed her hips, the fishnets caught his eye as the fabric tensed. Her skirt seemed so very tight. "Colin, I am so delighted to have you as a visitor. Would you be a dear and tell me, why you chose to raise your hand. Don't worry, I won't hold any reason against you."

"I think this whole act is a sham," he replied, louder this time, and to his surprise the audience burst into laughter.

"Ohh, a sceptic." Phantasma's plump lips stretched into a mischievous smirk. "People like you, Colin, make my show really fun. Let me guess, dear. You think all those others were plants. Nothing I did was real. And then, when I challenged your masculinity you thought: ha I prove her wrong!" Her coy green orbs sparkled under the limelight. "How close am I, dear?" Her hand extended and she placed it on Colin's cheek.

Colin's skin prickled and heat shot up to the place she touched. "I am still convinced you're fake."

The crowd burst once more into laughter.

She grinned widely at his answer. Her gaze locked with Colin's again and she licked over those lush lips. "Well, well," her words were as soft as her touch had been. "Then let me disprove your scepticism, Colin. Let us begin." Out of her other hand fell a dangling crystal. "For you, my dear, I will go with the classics. Be a dear and look at the shining crystal." She waved her hand. Colin's eye followed the crystal and the sudden shine that emerged from it.

"Oh, very good. You follow it's movement even without prompt. That's part of the trick, my dear. People have such ingrained ideas in modern times. Knowledge of tropes and cliches, they can't help themselves. So when a hypnotist, like myself, dangles a crystal in front of your eyes. You simply follow it's swing. Back and forth. Left to right. It's absolutely normal. Nothing to worry about. Just enjoy the motion. The alluring shine. Back and forth." She lowered her voice, whispering close to Colin's ear.

A pleasant buzz began to form inside Colin's mind. "There you are Colin. Perfect. Don't be worried." Phantasma continued, "relax. Be calm. Take a deep breath in. Let the pendulum swing back. And exhale. The crystal moves forth. Inhale. And back. Exhale. And forth. In. Left. Out. Right. It's so easy to breathe in tune with the shining crystal. So easy. You don't need to think about it. You only act. Simple. Relaxing. Isn't it?" Her soft voice so close, it was as if her lips brushed over his ear.

"Yes," Colin mumbled. The buzz inside his mind grew with every breath, a warmth enveloped his head, a feeling like his brain had been reduced to a mass of soft dough. It wasn't unpleasant. "It feels good." His tongue was sluggish and he mumbled, the crystal twirled.

"Of course it does. Our modern lives are so filled with stress and hurry. But not here. Here calm and relaxation are the norm. The only thing you have to do is follow the crystal."

He hummed a content sound. As the crystal moved left and right, it seemed like the scenery around him was blurred, obscured. But the crystal — that shiny thing — stayed so sharp and distinct. It was hard for his doughy brain to describe the state of things. So his attention went to what was understandable, what was so crystal-clear: the pendulum.

"Very good, dear. Follow the shine. Gaze deeper into the twinkling light. It fills your mind. No more pesky thoughts. Let all those worries, drop." The last letter sounded like a loud pop. "Drop-" another pop "-drop deeper. Deeper and deeper. More relaxed with every swing. More of the shine inside your mind. Isn't this so delightful?" Again there was her voice in his right ear, like the touch of silk. "Your body, your mind, you are all in a state of deep and tranquil peace. It is the only place you wish to be."

His tongue felt like lead in his mouth, so heavy, as were his limbs. A small docile: "Yes," slipped through his lips. Slurred and mumbled.

"Very good, dear. All that's left is the shine, the motion. It has taken over your mind. It controls you, shapes you. And I control the swing, I shape its motion. So, I control you and shape your self. Can you feel how I control and shape you?" The words caressed him, wormed their way through his muddled head.

He had no control. All he could do was nod in affirmation of her control.

"Excellent, I command your body and mind with a mere gesture. I control your very existence, Colin." Phantasma's voice filled his brain. "And there is a simple truth, my dear. You aren't a man — not even a boy, dear. Oh, no. You are a simple girl. Say it."

The swing, her voice, the words; Colin's mouth had already begun to move before she uttered her command. "I'm a simple girl." His words came slurred and without a doubt. There was a certain feeling to the word girl, a pleasant fuzzy sensation that he hadn't expected.

"Good girl," the hypnotist whispered in Colin's ear, "you learn so well. Now, girls are naturally very calm, relaxed beings." She paused for a second and took the pendulum out of Colin's field of view, only the voice remained, that smooth guide to the world, "a woman does not worry or hurry, a lady always takes her sweet time to act. They are demure and elegant. This inner calm is reflected by their beauty. A woman always looks out for her beauty. She makes sure to always look pretty and elegant. No lady wears pants after all, no woman wears short or tight trousers that would hide their femininity. Skirts are what women prefer, long dresses that show the elegant shape of the legs, a sleek and feminine design. Such a female outfit shows the inner truth. Hair and face styled into perfection. Beautiful hair, long eyelashes, a plump pair of lips that have to shine in all colours possible, this is the standard a true girl has to hold to. This is the form of beauty you have to become." The crystal reappeared and swayed back and forth. "You have always been that girl, Colin. Can you feel it?"

His gaze locked onto the crystal and his eyes moved back and forth. He was completely lost inside that pendulum's shine, the voice of that wonderful lady. He nodded slowly. The words in her voice made so much sense. And as the ideas and suggestions entered his muddled head.

"Then," she led him to a vanity, "let her out." And pushed him gently into the seat. A large mirror covered most of the wall above the desk. In the reflection, Colin could make out his own dull face. That ordinary face of his had been staring back at him from mirrors forever. He stared in disgust. How ugly.

Phantasma leaned down to him and her breasts pushed against Colin's back. She laid her hand over Colin's and guided his arm towards a drawer, his hand grasped a handle and she pulled, opened the drawer, which was full with various make-up tools.

"Every good girl knows how to do proper make-up." Her breath brushed his left ear, her soft lips caressed his lobe, Colin's entire body shuddered at the intimate contact. He had no time to let the pleasure linger as Phantasma's skilled hand guided him through the tools. She snatched a delicate brush, its bristles tickled his fingers. "This will be your foundation, use a liberal amount, but remember less is more." Phantasma's soft fingers glided along his palm and he grasped it firmly, "your foundation is the base upon which the art of a girl comes alive." And so it was. She guided his hand with soft yet determined motions, he applied a rich layer onto his face, rubbing in the white and creamy substance.

Her next instruction was a different brush. "You need a bit of powder." Again she guided him and Colin pressed and dabbed and wiped, a tingling feeling remained after each application. A dusting of rose blush and some strokes with the highlighter, Phantasma seemed to know exactly what kind of shape his cheekbones needed; how to highlight their contours. Stroke after stroke his face changed. Mascara rolled over his eyelashes. Long curves made his eyes pop. A pinkish eyeshadow made their colour shine.

He grew enamoured of that person staring back in the mirror.

"A girl needs full, beautiful lips to show their smile to the world." And with this instruction Phantasma laid his fingers around a delicate red lipstick.

Under Phantasma's soft but skilled hands, Colin's lips became plump and red. Curled into a demure form they spoke of his elegance. Phantasma's final instruction involved his eyebrows and they were now shaped perfectly to his eyes and enhanced their colour. He was a beauty.

A soft moan came over his lips, a girly coo of delight, and his cheeks blushed red. The person staring back at him wasn't even male. The shape of the face was now clearly feminine.

"And until your hair has grown to perfection, this will complete you." Phantasma placed a wig over his scalp. Long pink locks cascaded down his neck. It fitted the face in the mirror like a dream.

"You are such a beauty now." The voice of Phantasma whispered into his ear.

"Yes." Colin nodded slowly. He couldn't take his gaze away from the gorgeous girl that looked at him from the other side of the looking-glass. A gentle sigh parted his red, plump and luscious lips.

"It feels so right — to be a girl, doesn't it, dear," the soft touch of the hypnotist ghosted along the side of his face. So gentle. Her gloved fingers sent tingling shudders all over his spine.

He leaned into her soft touch. "Yes," he said without thinking.

Phantasma leaned closer and her long lashes fluttered before his eyes, then her lips were suddenly upon his. So warm and wet. As the contact lasted longer and he couldn't help but reciprocate her movements, she pushed with her plump lips more and more.

He felt himself give way and open his mouth for her and as he gasped a little bit, Phantasma took the opportunity and her tongue darted inside his mouth and took a quick, yet passionate swipe around. Then, her lips separated from his and a thin, silvery string of drool hung between the both of them.

"Good girl." She took his hands. Practiced she twirled him in front of the audience. Glazed eyes watched over glazed eyes. "Now, I'm certain everyone will agree that my hypnosis is real." Phantasma clapped her hands. A jolt traveled through Colin and the people. Like a spell each person blinked awake. Colin shook his head.

"Look, Colin, what you are wearing now. Such masculine clothes. I thought a girl like yourself wouldn't wear them," Phantasma cooed into his ear, the people from the audience chuckled.

Colin looked down his body and felt suddenly very wrong, a blush spread on his face. "These clothes. I wouldn't," his tongue betrayed him and the muddled brain wouldn't allow for any protest.

"Then why are you wearing them, dear?" Phantasma smirked at the audience. Colin gulped. The people stared in anticipation at the two of them standing on stage.

"Because you hypnotized me," he mumbled. A blush crept on his face.

"No need to be embarrassed, dear. Others had fallen under my sway, isn't that right people!" The last part she addressed towards the audience. And they responded in affirmative shouts. Colin shook in anticipation, something tingling had started to creep along his spine. "So there's no need to worry." Her gaze locked with him and those beautiful green eyes glittered mischievously, her soft voice whispered. "Don't worry, dear, I've kept your elegant dress and may I be so bold, rather risque underwear safe."

Colin blinked at her, then his gaze went to the stage where the drawer lay, his clothes hung neatly next to the mirror. He hadn't noticed that. How could she have done all these things without him noticing, or even protesting. A tingle crept down his neck and spine.

"Now, don't you want to change again, dear? Those boy clothes I put you in must feel so wrong," the last word rolled from her lips with emphasis.

Colin shivered and his face contorted into a grimace. "Yes, yes, I can't stand being forced to wear such un-elegant, ugly things. They do nothing for my body. Hide my femininity." Colin grumbled, yet his voice appropriately soft and melodious. A pout pulled on his lips.

"That they do. Go my dear. I will entertain the masses while you are gone." She turned again to the audience. "Please, a roaring applause for Colin and her bravery to be put in such rough clothes," and Phantasma snickered as did the crowd.

Colin held her chin high. Her hips swayed more with every step, a feminine strut. And she left the stage filled with the a sense of adventure. Even if she still didn't like these inelegant style.

Who knows what could have happened? 💖

#forced feminized #hypnosub #submisive sissy #feminine sissy #pinkofatom #hypno fantasy #hypnosis story #fem dom #hypno caption #feminization captions #crossdressing captions #inspired

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straylightdream · 2 days ago

Text

so it goes…

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: wen junhui x camgirl! f.reader

↳ Getting caught up in a moment. Lipstick on your face, so it goes. I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, camgirl reader, kind of anonymous camboy jun, smut warning below the cut

an: this was inspired by the song so it goes.. by taylor swift. This another one of my stories inspired by reputation songs. This can be read as a one shot but these guys and there friends are mention in a series of loosely connected stories called all for you

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), camgirl reader, creampie, snowballing?? kind of anonymous camboy jun, dirty talk, oral (male rec), recording sexual acts, fingering & handjobs, thigh riding, masturbation, nicknames: (hers) baby, baby girl, (his) baby,

Long before you even met Junhui you heard about him frequently from your friend from college friend. You and her had grown closer in the last year when she took up being a cam girl just like you. Your life as a cam girl wasn’t planned but down on your luck you had heard plenty of girls talk about how they make bank off of it so you decided to give it a try. After a month and half of doing it you were making so much money you didn’t bother looking back. Your online persona “cherrybby” was something you tried to keep separate from your everyday life.

You weren’t ashamed of your career path by any means. You would prefer that close family don’t know and you don’t normally tell new friends about your job until you're comfortable. The only downside of your career is dating. You’ve been a cam girl for three years and hadn’t even been on one date. Your sex life consists of pleasuring yourself on camera. You don’t know the last time a man had touched you.

On a random Monday afternoon you were having lunch with your friend kitten who is now a cam girl. She telling you all about how her boyfriend Joshua gets off on being in the room while she films. You can’t help but be envious that she’s able to have a stable relationship and this career.

“Have you gone out with anyone recently?” She asked.

A soft chuckle passes your lips, “I haven’t had sex with a man once since I started this job.”

“Would you be interested in dating someone?” You know that she has a large group of friends and you’ve met a few of the boys and they’re all extremely good looking.

“I feel like if I go on a date with someone they need to know even before dating me about my job,” you sigh.

“I have a friend named Junhui. He’s like only one of my only friends I told about my job after Shua found out.”

“Have I met him before?” You’re trying to remember all the boys you met the one time you met her at the bar.

“No you haven’t. Junhui isn’t going to judge you for your job. He’s a really nice guy, he’s really hard working. He’s one of those nine to five guys who wears a suit to work everyday and works in an office.”

She was right he didn’t judge you for your career. Kitten managed to set you up with Junhui a week after you had lunch. He took you out to dinner and a movie. You asked him if he would be okay with your job and he told you he’s fine with it. He told you he respected you for how hard you worked to make money. The one downside to him was, he let you know he wasn't able to be in a super serious relationship but he definitely wanted to date. You took that as you were going to be together but you weren’t going to put a label on it right away.

It’s been four months and in your mind Junhui is your boyfriend even though you’ve never had the talk about labels. You learned very early on that Junhui has a thing for appearing in your videos but remaining anonymous. He often wears a face mask and makes sure you only see him from the neck down. He’s never taken his clothes off on camera. He has no problem fingering you until you’re practically screaming or playing with you or using toys on you.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling his strong thigh. He’s dressed in business attire coming over straight from work. He’s wearing tight slacks, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing the veins in his arms.

He always tries to see you before you go live. He made a joke about you riding his thigh and the next thing you knew he has you naked with your camera on. Your lips are painted a cherry color as your leave lipstick stains across the column of his neck. You grind your hips against this thigh getting the friction you desperately need.

It’s a blessing you live alone so you can be as loud as you need. Your fingers cling to his white dress shirt, rubbing yourself against his thigh harder.

“Fuck,” he softly moans. His hands grip your add helping you grind against him.

As you fall apart it takes everything not to moan his name. You instead opt for moaning, “baby” your name you only refer to him as on camera.

After you finish your stream you lay on your bed completely naked watching as Junhui stands next to the bed staring down at you. He’s fixing his tie that you had been holding on to as your orgasm washed over. “I wanted to suck the life out of you on camera.” You desperately want to give him head on camera or have him fuck you, but that’s against one of the only boundaries you have both set when it came to your streams. He wanted to remain fully anonymous and he didn’t want to be naked on your streaks.

He chuckles, “you can do it now off camera.”

“I thought you had to meet Seungcheol, Minghao, and Joshua at the bar?” You know he doesn’t have time for that.

“They can wait.” He unbuckles his belt.

“I shouldn’t make you late again,” you sit up slowly.

“Why don’t you come with me?” He pushes his dress pants and boxers down his strong thighs.

“It sounds like it’s a boys night.” He crawls onto the bed and strokes himself as he watches you crawl towards him.

He shakes his head, “it’s not, some of the boys are bringing their girlfriends. Shau is bringing Kitten, and Seungcheol is bringing Darling. Jihoon might also swing by and if he does his girlfriend might be with him.”

You lay on your stomach in front of him. You watch as he strokes his hardened length.

“Are you sure you want me to go?” You’re still always a little awkward when you go on outings with him.

“Yes I’m sure. Now are you going to suck me off like you desperately wanted to do?”

You can’t help but smile before you take over stroking him. He watched you with lust filled eyes. You slowly lick his sensitive head as you stroke him. “Are you going to tease me?” Hollowing your cheeks you take him into your mouth as far as he can go. The moans that pass his lips are absolutely intoxicating.

His fingers thread your hair pulling your hair away from your face.

“Fuck you’re so good at this,” he moans.

It doesn’t take long before he falls apart moaning your name. You hold him in your mouth swallowing every last drop of his release.

He pulls you up to him so you’re sitting on his lap. “I can’t get enough of you.” He crashes his lips into your not caring that he can taste his one cum on your tongue.

Leaning against the bar, he stares at you intently watching as you’re talking to Minghao and Kitten. You can feel his eyes burning into you. It’s intoxicating knowing that you’re the only thing he can focus on.

“You know I’ve never seen him so fascinated by a girl,” his roommate Minghao says.

“Seems like Junnie is down bad for you,” Kitten says smiling. He’s not the only one who is down bad. You’ve been seeing him for four months and it’s safe to say you are very in love with him. The problem is he hasn’t labeled your relationship and hasn’t mentioned being in love with you. “You know before you Junhui was so focused on work he never had time to date or go out. Since he started seeing you he's been more social again.”

“My dear roommate Junnie isn’t great with commitment. He never has been, he seems different with you.” You hope that means that he plans on defining your relationship soon.

“He’s the first guy I have dated in years and honestly I really love being with him. He’s kinda perfect for me.” Junhui is everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. There is something special about the fact he’s so accepting about your career. Whatever you do Junhui doesn’t judge you.

“I’m lucky you introduced me to him,” you give Kitten a smile.

Joshua comes over wrapping his arms around her waist like pulling her back for a kiss.

Looking over at Junhui you give him a come hither look. Pushing himself off the bar he excuses himself from his conversation with Seungcheol. He comes over taking your hand in his. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hand. You lean in close to him and instantly feel a warmth take over you at being close to him.

“Can I spend the night at your place?” He asked.

“Of course.” You love when he spends the night. Your place gives you more privacy since you don’t have roommates.

You spend the night talking to Junhui friend’s who you now consider your own friends and when ten o’clock rolls around Junhui uses this as his opportunity to tell everyone he’s tired and needs to go to bed. Taking you by the hand he leads you out of the bar. The moment you’re in his car his hand is on your thigh telling you he can’t wait to have you naked.

The moment he walks into your apartments he drags you off to your room. With little effort he has you naked.

He has you on your side with your leg hooked over his arm as he stuffs your tight pussy full with each slow thrust from behind. Your hand reaches behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair. He leaves a trail of kisses across your shoulder. Definitely leaving bruises in his path. You adore how intimate this whole thing is between you. You don’t feel the need to try and come off as sexy. You can just be yourself and enjoy the way he’s making you feel.

“Baby-“ he moans in your ear.

He knows all the ways to make you fall apart.

“Rub your clit.”

Silently you follow his instructions. The coil in your stomach tightens as you’re close to falling apart.

As a white hot wave washes over you, you hold back desperately wanting to admit you love him.

It’s been two weeks since you went to the bar with Junhui and his friends. In those two weeks you’ve realized that you are indeed very much in love with him. He’s been super busy at work so you haven’t gotten to see him as much as normal. That doesn’t stop you from talking on the phone daily and even stealing a few minutes alone when you can.

You're making yourself a little snack before you go live. You’re already in your lingerie you plan on wearing. Dressed in a sheer blush colored bra that does nothing to cover your nipples and a pair of crotchless matching panties.

Your front door opens and you peek your head out of the kitchen to see Junhui walking in. He’s dressed in his normal business attire he wears to work. You didn’t plan on seeing him today. He had mentioned he had dinner plans with some of the boys.

“Hi baby,” he smiles, walking towards you. “I see I found you in your work clothes.”

“I was going to stream soon.”

“You look mouth watering,” he walks toward you. He backs you up until your butt hits the kitchen table. “Am I allowed to play with you before you go online?” If he’s asking to play with you off camera, you know that definitely means he wants to be naked with you. He just doesn’t want to toy with you while others watch.

You give him a playful pout, “you know I can’t say no to you.”

Without a word he picks you up, sitting you on the edge of the kitchen table. He stands between your legs. You tugs on his tie pulling him closer to you. “You didn’t go home after work?”

“Why would I?” He cocks his head to the side. “Especially when you’re walking around looking like this?”

“I thought you had dinner plans with Minghao, and Jeonghan?” You originally planned on streaming tonight, but you would much rather spend time with him.

“I told them something came up.”

“What came up?” Leaning forward you press your cherry painted lips against the collar of his crisp white shirt.

“I thought you might want me to stream with you.”

“Are you sure it’s just not because you wanted to see me?” You reply pulling back to look at him with doe eyes. Tugging on his tie pulling him closer to you. “can you tell me you missed me?”

“Baby I always miss you,” he smiles.

“I don’t want to go live I want you to fuck me instead.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just picks you up and carries you off to your bedroom. He tosses you on the bed with a smirk across his face.

“Baby did you want to film me fucking you?” He unbuttons his shirt.

“I thought you didn’t want to stream with your clothes off?”

“How about you film us and we can decide if you post it,” he reaches for your camera that’s sitting on your dresser.

“Okay,” you smiled.

Laying on the bed he sets up the camera and hits record. Sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed you watch as he slowly unbuttons his dress shirts. “You look so pretty sitting there watching me.”

“You’re just so pretty,” you smile.

Tossing his dress shirt on the floor he unbuckled his pants. “Can I take them off?” You asked?

“Anything you want pretty.” Crawling off the bed you move to your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and pushed them and his boxers down his strong thighs. His already hard cock slaps against his stomach. There is something thrilling about doing all this while you’re being recorded. You take him in your hands, bring his red tip to your lips. You kitten lick the tip earning a groan from him. “Are you going to tease me baby?” You don’t respond you look up him with doe eyes as you take him as far in your mouth as he can go. His fingers tangled in your hair holding it back from your face.

“Fuck I love you mouth,” he moans as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head. You’ve always found joy in giving him head. You love the noises he’s makes and you like that you can read him like a book when you have him like this.

“Baby I’m gonna cum in your mouth if you don’t stop right now.” Pulling off you release him with a pop.

He stares down at you for a moment looking like he’s on the brink of insanity. He reaches down, helping you stand up. He drags thumb across your bottom lip, swiping some of his precum and your spit. Parting your lips he places his thumb in your mouth. Sucking gently as you stare at him.

“How do you want me?” You asked.

“I want you to spread out for me.”

Laying the bed still dressed in your crotchless panties, he's sitting back on his knees. He’s running his cock through your fold. You gasp as his bulbous head nudges your sensitive clit. “You’re so wet.”

“It’s always for you-“

He pushes into you slowly. “Spread your legs for me more,” he sighs.

The whole time he’s thrusting into you, he kisses his way across your skin. He sucks on your nipple earning a wanton moan.

The whole time you're filming his eyes never leave yours. He watches you with this loving stare. This isn’t some lust filled haze he normally has. When he finally pushes you over the edge you don’t think you have ever cum that hard in your life.

“Where did you want me to finish?” He asked if his thrust started to grow sloppier.

“Inside,” you beg.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he moans. He paints your walls white and he fills you with thick ropes of his cum. He stops moving and stares at you for a moment before saying “you’re so fucking perfect.”

He doesn’t realize that you think he’s your whole entire world.

Junhui finally has a day off and his one goal for the day was to spend time with you. He spent the night and loved being able to wake up in bed with you. You morning cuddle session turned into slow passionate morning sex where Junhui had you laying in your stomach with a pillow under your hips. He loved finding any position he can to fuck you from behind.

You’ve spent the day just enjoying each other's company. He planned on having a lazy night in, but forgot about the little gathering at Wonwoo and his girlfriend's place.

“Can you go with me to dinner at Wonwoo and honey’s place?” He says setting his phone down.

You glance up at him from your spot on the couch. “Sure who is all going?”

“Shau and kitten, Seungcheol and darling, Soonyoung and sweetie, Jihoon and ruby.”’ You realize instantly this is a dinner for most of the couples in the friend group.

“Hao and Hannie aren’t coming?”

“No, they are both busy.”

“Sure.”

Arriving at your friend's apartment you can’t help but feel a little strange that it’s all just couples. As the night goes on everyone is hanging out and you can’t help but focus on how each of the couples interact together. You’re reminded that from the outside looking in people must assume Junhui is your boyfriend. He’s spent most the night touching you in one way or another. Towards the end of the night you notice he’s kind of gone cold. He suddenly seems distant to everyone. He’s standing in the kitchen by himself getting a glass of wine water when you walk in.

“You okay Jun?”

He stares at you with his eyebrows knit together for a long moment before closing the distance between you. He cradles your face in his hands as he crashes his lips into yours.

“I want to get out of here,” he whispers against your lips.

“Okay we can leave.”

The car ride back to your place feels weird. Something seems off about him but you can’t figure out what.

Walking into your apartment the moment the door is shut he pushes you up against your wooden door. His finger tangles in your hair while he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. Pulling away from you for a moment he whispers your name before his hand roam your body. Pushing your dress off, he tugs on your underwear pulling them down your legs.

He seems like he’s desperate for you. Normally you would play along but you can’t figure out why this all feels so off.

His finger dip between your folds earning a moan. His eyes look empty as they stare at you for the first time. Suddenly it feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on you.

“Jun-“ you pause. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing- just- fuck-“ he seems destrought. He removes his hands from you and steps back. You pull your underwear backup as you wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

“Can I ask you something?” He doesn’t say anything he just stares at you. “What are we?” This question has been eating you alive for days.

“We’re dating,” he tilts his head to the side, his eyes still seeming empty.

“Are we exclusive?” You feel like you’re crazy for the fact you have to have this conversation almost five months in.

“Of course we are.”

“Are you my boyfriend?” You know this label was what was driving you insane.

“Why are we having this conversation tonight?” He sighs.

“Because something is wrong and I feel like we need to talk about what is bothering both of us.”

“This is what’s bothering you?” He seems void of emotions.

“Yeah. I don’t understand what we are. I want you to be my boyfriend,” you feel like you’re on the verge of crying.

“It’s complicated,” he sighs.

“It shouldn’t be. You act like my boyfriend. Hell we literally got invited to couples night with your friends.”

“I have so much going on in my life and I can’t fully commit to being your boyfriend. Work is so much right for me. I don’t have time to fully commit to you.” That’s bullshit. He’s constantly spending time with you. You see him at least three times a week.

“I’m not asking for much. I like what we have. I just want to call you my boyfriend and not feel crazy for being in love with you.” Telling him you love him like this feels wrong. It makes your chest burn. You always hoped to hear him say it first to you.

“You love me?” He looks completely caught off guard by your statement.

“Why do you sound shocked?”

“I don’t know,”

“I don’t think you love me, and that’s okay. But I think if you can’t commit to me more, for my own self preservation I need to stop this. This-“ you point between the two of you. “Is just going to break my heart.”

“I’m trying so hard not to break your heart.”

“But you aren’t really trying,” tears slowly start to slide down your cheek. “If you were actually trying to work with me. I wouldn’t feel like I’m going through a fucking maze trying to figure out what’s got you so upset.” You push away your tears. “I don’t know why you’re so guarded, because you won’t ever tell me why you’re like this. I feel like I know you, but at the same time there are so many things about yourself you keep hidden from me. But I have fully let you in. I showed you parts of myself I have been terrified to show other people. I never hid my job from you, you’re the first person I fully never trusted anyone to see that side of me.” He just stares at you with his eyes brimming with tears. “From the beginning I’ve never liked anyone like I like you. I’ve always been yours to keep, but at the same time yours to lose.” The silence in the room is screaming. “I think you should probably head out.” You reach on the floor picking up your dress that he peeled off you. You walk away from the door.

He nods and steps away from you. The moment the front door shuts you can’t help but sob. He made it very clear he doesn’t love you, and now you feel crazy for ever falling for him.

You haven’t spoken to him in two weeks, and in that time you’ve only gone live once. It wasn’t a normal long stream you would do for at least an hour. This one was short, and after one orgasm you needed the live. The whole time you were on camera you could only think of Junhui and it was breaking your heart. It didn’t help that the chat was asking where your mystery man you called “baby” was.

Getting over a one-sided breakup hurts. It doesn’t help that you don’t exactly have a ton of friends that live in the city. You could call Kitten but you felt weird since she’s friends with Junhui too.

Laying in bed looking through your phone you see the only sex tape that you and him had made together. You know he said you could post for subscribers only page behind a paywall, but you never intended for anyone to see this video other than the two of you. You know you should delete it or just store it in your hidden folder and move on but for some reason you watch it. The loving looking in his eyes as he slowly rolls his hips into yours over and over again. Before you reach the end of the video when you fall apart moaning his name, you close your phone. There is once again that ache in your chest.

There is a knock on the door and you have no clue who could be at your door. Opening the door you weren’t expecting to see Minghao of all people on the other side. You have no clue why Junhui's roommate is at your door.

“Hi?” You’re confused on why he’s here.

“You know Junnie won’t tell me anything, but he’s been sulking around the apartment for over two weeks and when I asked about you he looked like he was fighting back tears.” You step aside and Minghao walks in.

You don’t respond to his statement, you instead ask, “Would you like tea?”

“Please.”

He sits at your kitchen table as you make two cups of tea. You place a cup in front of him and sit down across from him.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Junhui?” Minghao is probably the only of the few people in Junhui's friends that fully knows about your actual job.

“It’s complicated,” you sigh.

“I’m going to assume he’s the one that messed up,” he sighs before taking a sip of his tea.

“Hao, how would you explain to someone my relationship with him?” You’re curious to see what someone from the outside thinks of your relationship.

“You’re his girlfriend,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Turns out I wasn’t. Our relationship was odd. In my eyes he was my boyfriend, we were together all the time and he even took me on dates. Hell he even knew about my job and didn’t care.” You decided to leave out that he would film with you. “He would never fully commit though. He would dodge referring to me as his girlfriend. And when I asked him what we were, he just told me all the reasons he couldn’t be my boyfriend.”

Minghao takes a deep breath as he gives you a sympathetic look. “He got his heart broken really badly before you. She couldn’t take how busy he was with work. They dated for two years and one day she ended things saying that his job would always come first.”

“I don’t think he’s heartbroken this time. He made it clear he didn’t love me when I told him I loved him.”

He sets his cup down and has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean he doesn’t love you?”

“His response to my confession was, I’m trying really hard not to break your heart.”

“Fuck he’s dumb.”

“You know I let him see every part of me and never hid anything from him, and wouldn’t fully let me in.”

“Before you let go of him. Could you try talking to him one last time?”

“Minghao why? He’s not here trying to talk to me. You are?”

“Listen, he loves you and he wants more. He’s just scared.” He sighs. “He’s not as guarded as you think is.”

“You know he doesn’t talk about his family at all?”

“That’s because he’s has some issues with his family. It’s just him and his mom. His dad left when he was young. He works hard to help support his mom.”

“Why won’t he tell me this?” It hurts that he hasn’t tried to talk to you.

“I guess it’s his way of protecting himself.” He sighs standing up.

“He doesn’t have to protect himself when it comes to me.”

“You don’t have to do this, but maybe you should come by and see if he’ll talk to you.”

“He needs to come to me. I can’t put myself on the line anymore. I’m already hurt enough. If he wants to fix this he has to be the one to fix it.”

Minghao leaves, giving you a hug goodbye. You decide that night you need to let go of Wen Junhui.

Another week goes by before there is another knock on the door. You were getting ready to attempt to do a short stream. You threw on a robe fully covering your body.

Opening the door you’re surprised to see Junhui standing on the side. He’s dressed in his work clothes. He looks tired and there isn’t his normal light behind his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out before he sighs. “If you’re here to waste my time you can leave.”

“I’m not good at any of this stuff.”

“Clearly,” you retort.

“Can I come in so we can talk?”

Silently you step aside. He walks inside standing in the living room. You shut and lock the door. You can’t help but think about the last time you were together when he had you pressed up against it.

“It’s been a month,” you break the screaming silence.

“I know.”

“Junhui you broke my heart that day. What were you so in your head about that night. You seemed so cold at the party,” your eyes are already brimming with tears.

“I wish I could go back in time and change what happened that night.” He sighs leaning against the back of the couch.

“Why?”

“Because I fucked up and hurt you. I’m sorry I was so closed off and hurt you. That night I just watching us with all the couples confused me. I had always told myself I didn’t need a relationship like that that night just confused me. I thought I couldn’t give you what everyone else had.”

“I’ve felt like I did something wrong for an entire month. I thought that maybe the reason you’re so closed off is because of my job.” That little thought had been eating away at you for weeks.

He shakes his head. “Your job had nothing to do with this. It’s not your fault even the slightest. It’s not a good excuse but I got my heart broken by a girl I was with for years. She ended things because of how much I work. I know from the beginning you said you didn’t care that I was so busy, but I thought if I committed to more with you. That one day you would end it because I can’t always be there.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment. You step towards him. You stare at him for a long moment. You hate how sad he looks. “I’m not asking for you to be readily available to me twenty-four seven. I’m just asking for you to let yourself love me, and label what we have.” Reaching up, you rest your hand gently on his cheek. Your thumb slowly drags across his delicate skin. “I fell so incredibly hard for you, and you made me feel like I was insane for loving you.”

“You weren’t lying when you said you were mine to keep and mine to lose. I fell so hard for you too, and I was so scared that I was going to lose you.”

He looks like he’s about to cry. “I didn’t want to leave you. You pushed me away.”

“I don’t ever want to push you away again.”

“Let yourself love me then,” you sigh.

“I already do love you. I loved you when you kicked me out. I loved you every second we were apart. I still love you.”

The world suddenly feels like it’s spinning a little quicker. There’s nothing you can say in that moment. Leaning up you crash your lips into his for a heated kiss. Your arms are wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “I love you.”

Pulling back you can’t help but smile, “that’s good because I love you too.”

“I would like for you to be my girlfriend. I’m just asking that you’re patient with me.”

“I can be patient,” you can’t help the happy tears that are starting to fall.

“Work is going to be crazy for me sometime. But just know I might be busy, but I’m always thinking about you, and I’m going to try my hardest to make time for you.”

“All I’m asking for is for you to always try your hardest with me and I’ll do the same with you,” he pressed his lips gently to the side of your mouth.

“I’m assuming by your robe you were getting ready to film?” He gently tugs on the belt.

“Yeah but I can film tomorrow. Maybe tonight we could take a bath and just spend time together.”

“I would love that.”

You knew that things always wouldn’t be the easiest. But all that mattered was that he loved you, and you loved him with your whole heart. All the pieces feel like they’re all suddenly falling into place.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen smut #seventeen insert reader #wen junhui smut #wen junhui #wen junhui x reader #wen Junhui fanfiction #wen junhui x you #junhui smut #junhui x reader #moon junhui #moon Junhui x reader #my writing #lwymmd #so it goes #kpop smut

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alastor-x-reader-stories · 2 days ago

Text

Reverse-Isekai with the Hazbin Crew

"She's not doing well." Nifty said, climbing onto Alastor's head and perching herself between his antlers.

"Hm... I figured." Alastor said, drumming his fingers along the top of his cane.

"Is there something we can do?" Charlie said.

Vaggie sighed and pulled Charlie into a half-hug "Probably not, honey. I mean....We don't exist in that world."

"Yeah we do." Angel said with a huff "I mean. We're fictional charactahs but we're there."

"That doesn't really help her much." Husk said. He opened whatever bottle he had on him and downed several gulps.

"Don't doubt the impact fictional characters can have on someone's life." Lucifer snorted, reaching across the bar to snatch the bottle from the cat. He chugged the rest of it then set the bottle on fire and burned it to ashes. "Stories and characters are amazingly influential. They can comfort, they can hurt. They can embolden and defuse."

"That's nice in theory." Husk said, tail lashing as a low growl permeated from his throat. "But it doesn't do much here, does it?"

"I wanna give her a hug!" Nifty sobbed, interrupting the increasing tension. "She's so sad and I don't like it! I want her to smile again!"

"I do too!" Charlie cried out, snatching Nifty up into a hug where the two sobbed together.

Vaggie sighed. "Alastor, you've been invading her dreams, haven't you? How has she been in those?"

Alastor took his monocle off and wiped it clean "Not much better, I'm afraid. Too many nightmares lately." He placed his monocle back onto his face.

Angel Dust propped his chin up on his hands, giving Alastor a shit-eating grin "Maybe give 'er a different kind of dream, eh?"

"Shut it." Vaggie snapped.

"Just sayin', ya let her get her mind off of things for a bit, hmmm~?"

"How so?" Alastor said, tilting his head.

Angel Dust's expression fell. "Um. Y'know. Give 'er a...nice dream."

Alastor scoffed "I've been rather busy fighting off the nightmares she conjures up, thank you."

"That's not-" Angel huffed "Oh, forget it." He flopped onto his back, multiple arms crossed in an exaggerated pout.

The room drifted off into an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds coming from outside the Hotel's walls and the sound of Husk pouring out some shots.

"Hey, Bambi. Maybe there is something you can do with her dreams." Lucifer said.

"Yes yes, eating her nightmares and rounding up the dream versions of her pets when they decide to run out into the highway."

"No, I mean like, something new." Lucifer said, spinning on the bar stool to face him. He propped his elbows up on the counter to support his weight. "Dreams can be helpful pathways, right? So maybe you can waltz into her world through it."

"How would he manage that?" Charlie blinked, wiping tears from her eyes.

"He already dips his toes-hooves, in it." Lucifer said with a shrug "Maybe he can go all out and actually cross that line into her reality."

"Mmm.... I doubt that'd be helpful." Alastor said "She's made it no secret that she knows I'm, and I quote, "a cringey bastard deer man"."

"Sums you up pretty well." Lucifer smirked.

"Maybe someone can go who's...not Alastor?" Charlie blinked.

"Nifty volunteers! Pick Nifty! Pick Nifty!" Nifty shouted, flailing on arm in the air.

"Woah woah woah, hold it." Vaggie said "I get we're all worried about her, but won't a fictional character showing up just freak her out more?"

"We have to do something!" Charlie moaned, running her hands down her face. "She's been- She's just been so- So off! I hate it! I hate seeing her like this!"

"What if she don't know it's one of us?" Angel said "I mean, we try to disguise whoever goes and if we send Husk we can just say he does a great Keith David impression."

"Why the fuck are you singling me out?" Husk scowled, downing a shot.

"Kitty." Angel purred, gently flicking one of Husk's ears. Husk recoiled back, shoved a shotglass in the spider's hand and then jabbed a claw into his face.

"You're lucky your face is cute." He snapped.

Angel Dust gave him a wink and down his shot.

Lucifer sighed, spinning back around on his bar stool and down his own drink. "Even if we can use the Dream-Path-Thing, so far Alphabet's been the only one who can do anything with it."

"Alastor." Alastor corrected, reaching over him to claim his own shot "And I AM rather talented." He down the drink and set the glass down with a clink. A smug smirk wide on his face "Simply a curse I have to bear."

Vaggie took two of the shot glasses, handing one to Charlie while keeping the other for herself. She down it in one motion "Maybe we should just leave well enough alone. I mean. She'll bounce back eventually."

"I know." Charlie sighed, sipping her drink "But it's just so frustrating we can't do anything to help."

"Do not underestimate the power of stories, Char Char!" Lucifer declared "Even if we're not real, we can be real to HER- woah-" The king cut himself off, bracing his hands on the bar counter "Holy unholy Hell, Bar cat, what was in that?"

Husk seemed to be struggling as well, suddenly leaning heavily against the wall. Angel slumped down on the counter, muttering something about 'this being good shit'. Even Alastor seemed a bit unsteady on his feet and this seemed to spread. Eventually, all except Nifty seemed to be completely off balance.

The little maid scanned the group, eyed the last remaining shot glass, ran over and quickly downed it. Her maniacal cackle echoed through the room "YEP IT WAS THE DRINKS- Woah things are spinny~!"

And that was the last thing the entire group heard before they all passed out.

The sound of scattered glass chips shimmered through the hotel, and a fog of white light materialized through the stained glass windows. Slowly the light took form into the shape of long-bodied, short-legged dog. It shook itself out, then trotted on over to where the bottle the cast drank out of sat. A curious nose nudged it, turning the bottle so the label could be read. The name of the drink was 'Plot Device'.

The dog's tail wagged. She seemed proud of herself.

--------- My dog died recently. I'm sad. I write. I share. Perhaps it can help others feel better too. Anyway this might just be a set up that I abandon. Thinking a reverse-isekai kind of thing with good ol' Reader-chan. Romantic pairing would be Alastor x Reader (maaaaybee some Lucifer x Reader idk) and platonic everyone else. Yes it'd be like 'An Animalistic Disaster' but more platonic.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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currentfandomkick · 1 day ago

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Danny, mute by non-liminal standards, yelling at Damian in Ghost Speak: no, no murder!

Damian, thinking Danny must have defected from the LOA and be trying to help him not relapse: silence betrayer! (Moves to now kill Danny)

Danny, 10/10 done with this weird gas, manages to restrain Damian just barely and locks his grip in the middle of Damian’s forearms to prevent escape, dragging him to the ambulance: … wait you can hear me? My parents can’t unless they wear these earbuds they made! Are you (Ghost speak language Proper name) after an accident too?

Damian, still high on fear gas but aware Just Enough to tuck that info into his noggin: release me!

Danny: after the nice EMTs clear you, sure thing!

—

Meanwhile Bruce senses a disturbance in Gotham regarding one of his kids, sighs, and asks ‘who did it’ in the family Group Chat.

No one fesses up to a recent disturbance but Jason is intent on being ‘the one who did the thing’

Duke feigns confusion like he hasn’t done 20+ crazy things in the last week alone warranting that question.

Tim insists he’s only targeting people on the ‘allowed list’ so Bruce can’t say shit.

Stephanie just send a pic of the biochem chapter she’s on and says she doesnt have time for shenanigans RN

Cass sends a pic of Stephanie in the library with her, with Cass holding coffee.

Dick is ignoring them as he’s muted the chat.

Bruce asks where Dick and Damian are.

Cass sees the news and runs off to handle Scarecrow as she is the best fighter and closest to her suit.

Smashcut to Danny restraining Damian for an EMT and fear toxin anti-venom injection.

Jason rolls up with Tim and Bruce in hot pursuit to see a scrawny civilian using what all three clock as a dialect of LOA mission speak while restraining Damian successfully. All three are concerned.

Danny is relieved when its over, and uses his phone to tell then what happened, and asks who ‘Tim’ is as ‘i heard him say he wanted to kill him. First time someone not using the earbuds my parents made to hear me could understand me, and its for murder :c’

Jason has decided to ask Danny where he learned those grips as ‘i teach self defense in Crime Alley and never say that before’

‘Mom taught me, if you go for joint holds its not hard to get out if you’re willing to dislocate or break a few bones^^’

Tim is checking in on a less murdery Damian while Bruce is with the Paramedic keeping all of them in his line of sight.

Danny is now intent on asking Damian if its genetic, a ‘meta thing’ he keeps hearing about or a skill that can be learned, as he’d like to know please and thank you!

Damian finding out Danny’s family is fleeing a creepy billionaire who disabled Danny in pursuit of his mother? Well, Damian can observe and protect Danny should the need arise. But only at a distance (too naive/ignorant for Damian to deal with on a regular basis. Damian will answer school related questions as English is BS, and Danny clearly is struggling in reading analysis… and he isnt sure if it’s a new thing for Danny or not. Danny out-doing him in their science classes was unexpected, and a bit annoying. Realizing Danny was taught a mix of occult and science and can get exact measurements by eye, horrifying.)

Danny does decide to figure out how to make cures for each rogue’s preferred chemical warfare, and asks Damian if he has a clue how to get these verified as ‘shots aren’t always an option’. (Blame the substitute teacher danny posts for that brainworm)

Damian makes a point of helping Danny if only to stop him from becoming Rogue-nip.

Danny befriending Killer Croc, Grundy and Poison Ivy did not help.

Danny has a problem.

It's been around two weeks after fighting vlad and removing his powers, the tension has been building between them for a long time.

First it was the crown, Danny had earned it after fighting Pariah but Vlad thinks that Danny isn't ruthless enough to rule saying that he's "too soft" and "too indecisive" to wear the (for all the title of Ghost King is worth) glorified funny hat. Then after a long time of arguing between them Vlad came up with a scheme. If he couldn't become the king he would become the regent, he just needed to possess Jack Fenton, have him divorce Vlad's "beloved" Madeline and then possess her into marrying him.

As you can guess this didn't work, Danny found him about two seconds after he tried to divorce Maddy cause he wasn't even trying to act (like a human sized Golden retriever) his dad. So he and mom beat the creepy incel out of his dad, in the process Danny was forced to transform and his parents accepted him (YAY!), he also got hit in the side of his head by Vlad, damaging his Broca's area just enough so he can only speak in Ghostspeak, but he can still understand human words and letters. After that mess they moved to Gotham so he could recover in a place with high ectoplasm without Vlad harassing them. ( Lady Gotham hates Vlad.)

Now you're probably wondering, "What's the problem, Vlad is out of the picture and your parents accept your half dead-ness."

The problem is that some guy dressed as a scarecrow released some weird gas into his school. He didn't get a lot of people cause the "Bats?" Showed up but his friend Damien got sprayed and ran off saying he was gonna kill his brother tim. So in Danny's infinite genius he ran off after him to make sure he doesn't hurt someone.

He's not sure why Damien speaks Ghostspeak though.

#dp x dc #danny is recovering #vlad is a creep #good parents jack and maddie fenton #danny's new to gotham #he didn't know why people keep talking about “bats”#damien gets sprayed with fear toxin #damien is a liminal

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littlelovelyra · 2 days ago

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"Tell Me I Can't Touch You" - Sylus x FMC

“I’m not a good enough man to walk away from this. You need to tell me that I’m not allowed to touch you."

MINORS DNI 18+

ao3 if you prefer

Word Count: ~1,797

Summary: After you find yourself ambushed in the N109 zone, Sylus comes to your rescue, resulting in a night of passion and ultimately, acceptance that you want him.

notes: A quick one shot of Sylus and FMC. I've had this lil scene in my mind for a while. I've been out of the writing game for a bit so I apologise if its sloppy. <3

The last thing you can recall is being ambushed in the N109 zone, a place where despite your best efforts, you keep finding yourself. As much as you try to stay away from the shady territory you always seem to find yourself back here and Sylus is always ready and waiting for you in the shadows. The irresistible pull you feel towards him should disgust you, it should make your gut twist with nausea but instead, you find butterflies in its place. No matter how hard you try, his face, his voice and even the feel of his skin are burnt into your mind. He’s like a drug, all it took was one encounter with him and now his presence flows in your veins.

As your vision fades in and out of focus, the feel of warm, strong arms encircle you. From what you can see, you know exactly where you are. If the dimly lit hallways were not a dead giveaway, it would be the intoxicating smell of his cologne that always drifted through the entire safe house. He’s carrying you… that means he must have found you after the ambush happened… or was he already watching you?

As you gain a bit more consciousness you attempt to wriggle out of his arms but you are quickly humbled by a radiating pain moving down your ribs and you feel his grip gently pull you closer to his chest.

“If you keep wriggling like that, you will only hurt yourself more, Kitten.” The warmth of his breath cascades down your cheek as he whispers in your ear, sending those butterflies into a frenzy.

“What… What happened? I remember an ambush but not much after that.” Your voice sounds a little hoarse and tired as you try to recollect the recent events.

“Yes, there were three men. They saw a beautiful woman walking alone and decided to take the opportunity. They will not be bothering you… or in any woman again. Ever.” The coldness of his tone cuts through you as he gently places you down on the bathroom vanity. “You’re freezing. There is a towel and some fresh clothes for you here, take your time in the shower. I will wait outside for you, but before I go, take this please to ease the pain a little.” He gently opens your hands and gives you two pills that you assume are painkillers. You look up to say thank you and are stunned by his soft concerned gaze. You give a quick nod in appreciation and swallow the pills, his shoulders instantly relax and he exits the bathroom.

What was his angle? He looked like he cared for a moment there but there has to be something he wants. He’s one of the most feared men, surely you were hallucinating that look he gave you. Softly you pad across the cold tiles and turn the shower on, taking a small moment to appreciate just how spacious it is, you could lay down in it if you wanted to… imagine all the things two people could do in here… what you and Sylus could— “No. Stop it” You stubbornly cut your thoughts short. You cannot be fantasising about him. It’s not right.

After stepping inside the shower, you welcome its warmth, enjoying the feel of the hot water hitting your back. A wave of annoyance works through you as you begin to lather the soap over your body and scrub. You should have been more aware of your surroundings; you know better than to let your guard down, especially in the fucking N109 zone. What the hell was going through your head? If Sylus wasn’t there, who knows what would have happened? A slight feeling of debt creeps through your chest, and your mind connects the pieces. That is his angle. You owe him now. Surely that is what he wants… why else would he save you? GOD, you feel stupid for even thinking he was concerned. You turn the shower off and head over to the towel, drying off and putting on an oversized tee shirt with a pair of shorts. Seething with irritation, you exit the ensuite and find Sylus sitting on the edge of the bed. He quickly stands and holds out his hand to help you as you slowly move around. The pills have dulled the pain but it is still tender to move too fast.

“So what do I owe you, Sylus?” You cross your arms and glare at him expectantly.

“Your skepticism wounds me.” He chuckles as he raises an eyebrow at your obvious display of irritation. “You owe me nothing, Kitten. Just come lay down and rest. Please.”

You glare at him a moment longer and unfold your arms as you slowly lay down on the bed. “Fine. I believe you. For now.” The irritation slowly dissipates as you settle on the soft mattress and close your eyes.

The mattress dips down to your left and you snap your head in the direction to see Sylus perched on his elbow watching you with a smirk.

“Can I help you?” You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion. His eyes travel down your body and his brow furrows with concern.

“You have a few cuts on your legs. I have some ointment for them.” He moves quickly and sits between your legs, opening a tube of cream. You feel your cheeks heat, and those damn butterflies are practically bursting now. Too stunned to speak, you lie silently, watching him spreading the cream across his palms, massaging it down your leg. His hands are firm yet soft and gentle at the same time. As he works the cream into your skin, a soft moan of appreciation escapes your lips, and his hands still for a moment. Another flush of embarrassment rises to your cheeks and you refuse to look at him as he begins working on the other leg.

His fingers massage lazy circles dangerously close on your upper thigh, and heat pools at your centre as you mentally will those fingers to wander further. You can’t help yourself; you have to steal a glance at him, you need to see if there is any desire from him. The minute you open your eyes, they lock to his crimson pools, he’s been staring at you. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and a low grumble escapes his mouth as he holds himself over you.

“You’ll need to stop looking at me like that, Kitten. Because if you don’t, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.” His mouth hovers just above yours, and the heat of his breath sends a shiver down your body. You gently bring your hand to his face and run your thumb over his lips, watching his ruby eyes glisten with need. “I’m not a good enough man to walk away from this. You need to tell me that I’m not allowed to touch you. Tell me… and I’ll walk away.” He grits his teeth as he pins your hands to the padded headboard.

“I don’t want you to go.” The whispered confession hangs in the air as it leaves your lips.

“You’ll regret this. Tell me to go. Please.” He whispers back to you, his mouth hovering over your lips again.

“Sylus… Touch me. Please.” Your body squirms beneath him, and you feel his hard length briefly against your leg.

His mouth crashes into yours, and your body is set ablaze with desire as you pull his clothes off. He gently removes your clothing, and he sits back for a moment as his eyes hungrily take in your naked form. Sylus crawls his way up your body and brings his mouth over your breast, gently flicking his tongue over your hardened peak, earning a moan of pleasure from you. He places hot, slow kisses down your body before settling his head between your thighs. You shake in anticipation as his breath spreads across your sex.

The feeling of his tongue slipping through your seam makes your back arch in pleasure as he begins to feast on you as if it were his last meal. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you look down, watching him at work and lock eyes as he slips his finger into you, pumping the digit in and out as he devours you. Waves of pleasure roll through you, and it's not long before you are crashing over into ecstasy.

As he frees himself from between your legs, he once again crawls up over you, planting a soft, deep kiss on your mouth. He expertly parts your lips and slips his tongue against yours, moving in perfect synchronisation. You hear a dull thud hit the floor to see that he has removed his pants, and the hard length of his arousal hovers at your entrance as he looks into your eyes.

“I want you, Sylus. Please.” You breath out as you wrap your legs around him urging him closer.

“You never have to beg me, Kitten.” He breathlessly pants as he slowly guides himself into you. “Fuck. You’re so wet for me. Such a good girl.” His thrusts slowly pick up pace and the wet sounds of your bodies clashing together sound like a symphony to your ears. He was worse than a drug, he’s taken up your entire being and you loved it. He felt like home and you didn’t care if it was just for this moment. It was worth it. As he continues to ram into you he brings his hand down and rubs tight circles around your clit bringing you closer to the edge once more.

“Say my name. When you come, I want you to say my name. I want to hear that you know who’s made you come so hard.” His breathing is erratic, and his thrusts are frenzied.

The waves build up again, and you shatter around him, screaming his name. You can feel your walls clench around his cock, and you feel his hips begin to buck as he releases himself deep inside you.

He falls beside you, pulling you into his chest in a gentle embrace, and he strokes his hand up and down your spine. Your brows furrow slightly at how happy you feel.

“What are you thinking, Kitten? Are you feeling regretful?” He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“No… I feel… free. Does this make me a bad person, Sylus?” You whisper against his chest.

“No, this doesn’t make you a bad person.” He mumbles against your hair.

“Then what does it make me?” You breathe out as you look up at him.

“Mine. It makes you mine.” He whispers against your lips bringing them together once more.

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venus-haze · 20 hours ago

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God's Got a Sick Sense of Humor (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Your decision to dress up as a slutty nun for Halloween has unexpected consequences when you make the acquaintance of an equally attractive and disturbed priest. (AO3 link)

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Not entirely spoiler-free, but if you’ve watched up to episode 6, you should be good! Also I couldn't find what the parish name was, so I made one up. The gif doesn't really have anything to do with the fic, I just like it🤭 Please look at the warnings before deciding whether to read this fic.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Non-con involving degradation, rough oral sex (m. receiving); ambiguous ending.

You knew early on in the night you had made a mistake in costume choice. The vinyl skirt started pinching your waist after less than an hour of wearing it, the nipple pasties were slowly peeling off despite your best effort, and the platform heels weren’t forgiving after several shots of tequila. The vinyl habit stayed in place with the bobby pins you used, but after a while, it felt like it was cooking your head.

Your friends found your plight funnier as the night went on, cracking jokes about how it was God punishing you for wearing the costume in the first place. Lisa had little trouble with her Tinkerbell costume, a green mini-dress and sparkly heels she pulled from her closet and a cheap set of fairy wings from the same Spirit Halloween you got your costume from. Julie’s Bridgerton-inspired costume seemed a bit out of place compared to you and Lisa, but she got a lot of compliments on the details.

For the limited the fun your little desert town had to offer, something was definitely missing from the night out.

“Why did Merritt say she couldn’t make it, again?” Lisa asked, the three of you walking down the street to the next bar you’d inevitably terrorize. All the usual haunts, where the bartenders knew your order and half the patrons were people you’d gone to high school with and definitely didn’t want to see again.

You shrugged. “I texted her earlier, and she said she couldn’t make it, something came up.”

“It sucks she doesn’t hang out anymore,” Julie said. “Did we do something?”

“I mean, her dad’s in a coma, and her mom’s working all the time with those gross murders going on,” Lisa said. “She’s probably the only one keeping things together at home.”

The three of you had known Merritt for years, your friend group becoming tight-knit as time went on. Getting carted to and from soccer games turned into sleepovers and late nights getting fast food. You got to know the Tryons pretty well over the years. Her dad was nice enough, and you always found her mom funny, if not a bit overprotective, but Lois always remembered your birthday.

“I’m gonna stop by sometime this week. It’s been way too long since any of us have seen her,” you resolved.

Lisa and Julie agreed, though you weren’t sure Merritt would appreciate all of you showing up unannounced at her house. You figured you’d be better off going yourself and seeing what the deal was with Merritt.

Stumbling over your platforms, you struggled to keep up with Lisa and Julie until you tripped and nearly wiped out on the sidewalk. You caught yourself on a nearby telephone pole, the lights from the nearby buildings blurring the more you tried to focus.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna find a convenience store and then get an Uber home.”

“We can go with you,” Julie said.

You shook your head. “Don’t end your night early because of me.”

“Alright, text us when you get home.”

When the world finally appeared upright again, you looked at the nearby street sign, recognizing where you were, at least. Not far to the nearest shop that you were certain would be open late. You checked your phone for the time and felt especially lame. It wasn’t even midnight yet.

With a sigh, you turned down the street, opening your messages to your most recent text to Merritt. Your FaceTime request went unanswered, so you opted for an audio message instead.

“Hey Mer, it’s me. We missed you tonight!” You paused awkwardly, wishing you could actually talk to her. “Look, there’s a Halloween party tomorrow night, something out in the desert. It’s not too late to get a costume. We could go to the Spirit Halloween in the old Bed, Bath and Beyond—“ A catcall interrupted your rambling. “Look, just call me or something, at least let me know you’re alright? Bye, babe.”

The fluorescent lights in the store were almost headache-inducing, but you powered through for a bottle of Gatorade and a protein bar that you hoped would mitigate the hangover you’d inevitably have in the morning.

Gatorade in hand, you felt almost dizzy staring at the array of protein bars in front of you, wondering how there could even be so many and if they were really any different. A man walked down the aisle, standing a few feet away from you, though you didn’t pay him much mind until you grabbed a protein bar and noticed he was dressed as a priest.

“Hey, nice costume,” you told him.

“Oh, this isn’t a costume.”

You laughed. “Right.” Your inhibitions lowered, you gave him a once over, your gaze lingering on his handsome face, his muscular arms. “You know it’s a shame we didn’t run into each other earlier tonight, we probably could’ve won a couples contest or something.”

He smiled, though something flickered in his brown eyes that made your guts churn. Except, it likely wasn’t him, as you shoved what you were holding onto the shelf next to you and rushed out of the store.

You wretched, the contents of your stomach emptied onto the blacktop. Tears burned your eyes, your throat scratchy and raw by the time you were done. You felt a hand on your upper back, could barely hear the sound of a man asking if you were okay over the sound of blood pounding in your ears.

Glancing up, you were mortified to see the priest looking at you with concern, though disgust was nowhere in his expression.

He handed you the Gatorade you’d been holding in the store, apparently going ahead and buying it for you. Taking a swig, you swished some around in your mouth before spitting it on the ground. He gave you a handful of crumpled napkins as well, and you tried maintaining what was left of your dignity while getting yourself together in front of him.

You managed a mousy thanks, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Don’t tell me you plan on driving home,” he said.

You shook your head. “I came out here with my friends."

"And they just left you like this? Alone?"

"I told them I'd get an Uber.”

“They'll charge you double tonight," he said. "I can drive you.”

Accepting a ride home from a stranger certainly wasn’t the smartest choice to make, but he actually seemed to give a shit about your well-being. You agreed, if not for the fact that you were curious about him, and the horny part of your brain hadn't shut up since you saw him.

He kept his hand on your back as he walked you over to his car. Almost felt like his fingers were twitching against your skin.

Getting into his car, you noticed the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, a saint card clipped to his visor.

“Oh my god, are you actually a priest?” you asked from the passenger seat as he turned the car on.

“I told you it wasn’t a costume.”

“Shit.”

“Father Charlie Mayhew, from Our Lady of Sorrows, if you don’t believe me.” He smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your address?”

After giving him your address along with your name, realizing you hadn’t told him yet, you rolled the window down about halfway, finding the fragrant odor of incense and cologne a bit overwhelming for your queasy stomach. The cool night air gave you instant relief, and you laid back on the headrest, keeping your eyes closed for a few minutes.

Father Charlie filled the quiet with a true crime podcast. Not a particularly odd choice, except that he was a priest, but Catholicism always lent itself to morbidity—his was more modern, you supposed.

“Have you heard about those murders around town?” you asked over the sound of a young woman giving the background of a triple homicide.

“Yes, our parish’s publication has been reporting on it,” he said. “I'm the editor, but one of our nuns is working closely with the lead detective on the case.”

You opened your eyes to look at him in disbelief. “Lois is working with a nun?”

“You know detective Tryon?”

“She’s my best friend’s mom,” you said. “I went to her house all the time growing up.”

“You must know her pretty well, then.”

“Yeah, Lois is one hell of a detective,” you said. “Still, I can’t imagine…whoever’s behind it must be depraved. What he’s doing—it’s not even human, it’s animal.”

“He?”

“I don’t think anyone but a man could be capable of that kind of barbarism, Father.”

“You might be right about that,” he said solemnly.

You drank more Gatorade, hoping to settle your stomach and ease your discomfort with the direction the conversation had taken. But you were the one who brought up the murders in the first place. All had some kind of religious connotation. No wonder the Catholic paper was eating that shit up.

Catholicism was always predisposed to an especially grotesque morbidity. Open wounds considered blessings. Bones of the holy displayed with reverence. Even bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Christ himself. Whoever was behind the recent murders was either observant or well-read.

Father Charlie pulled up to your building about ten minutes later, and you internally sighed in relief when he turned the podcast off. You couldn’t wait to get out of the damn costume and into bed.

“Thanks, Father Charlie,” you said. “I owe you one.”

“Actually, mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked.

You shook your head. “‘Course not. Come on up.”

Acutely aware of the costume you were wearing again, it was far too tempting not to show off on the way up to your apartment, swinging your hips a bit more than was warranted, knowing he was right behind you, the tight skirt giving him a full view of your ass. You privately bemoaned the fact that he was actually a priest. What a fucking waste. A guy who looked like him had no business giving himself to Jesus and denying the rest of the world the pleasure.

You took a selfie by your front door, a tired smile and a thumbs up that you sent to Julie and Lisa.

“Just letting my friends know I got home safe,” you explained, noticing Father Charlie staring at you.

You could barely hide your self-satisfied smile when you unlocked the front door. “The bathroom’s through the kitchen, first door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

Making a beeline for your bedroom, the first thing you did was take your heels off. Your feet were still sore, with a mean blister that made you walk funny when you brought the heels over to your shoe rack. You could hear the toilet flush and the water from the sink run in the bathroom. Chewing on your lip, you were almost tempted to ask Father Charlie if he wanted to stick around. If you could just brush your teeth and reapply some makeup real quick, you'd be good as new.

You never got a chance to.

“So, why this costume?” he asked, startling you.

You gasped, turning around to see him leaning against the door frame. “Oh, um—I thought it was funny.”

“What’s funny about it?”

“Well, nuns aren’t supposed to have sex, and this costume is—”

“Pornographic," he said. "I mean, it’s something you get fucked in.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, shocked at his bluntness.

“Chastity. The sacred vow to God that all women of the cloth take, and you—” he scoffed to himself, stepping into your bedroom so he was only a few feet away from you, “you mock it.”

You knew you should’ve picked the sexy nurse costume instead. “I’m so sorry, Father.”

“You will be. Get on your knees.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Don’t be crude. This is about repentance.”

The searing venom in his voice made your muscles contort to his will, and you found yourself on your knees. You should have been fighting back, screaming for him to get out, but in your heart you knew it was useless. Back in the convenience store, you noticed his fit physique, and you could hardly count on your neighbors to give a shit if you were in any kind of trouble.

"Do you even know how to make a sign of the cross?" he asked mockingly.

You shakily did so, bringing your left hand to your forehead, then your chest, then to each shoulder. He scoffed, apparently you messed something up, but he didn't elaborate, instead ordering you to repeat after him. The prayer came jumbled from your mouth, 'through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault' over and over until his voice was ringing in your ears like a broken church bell.

The bulge in his pants was impossible to ignore. You kept your eyes focused on his face, even when you heard the sound of his zipper and clothes shifting. But you couldn't help it, not when he was pumping his cock right in front of your face. Your repetition dipped with a slight whimper when you glanced at the size of him, foolishly hoping it was just proximity making his length appear so intimidating and angry, as if it wanted to hurt you just like he did.

“Simply praying won’t do someone like you any good," he said abruptly. "You need another form of penance, something more tangible."

Shoving his cock in your open mouth, you choked at the intrusion, attempted to shift backward and finally make a run for it, but he caught you by the habit you so stupidly kept in place with bobby pins and hit the back of your throat.

"Why don't you give me ten Hail Marys?" he mocked, his looming silhouette appearing outright demonic through your tear-filled gaze.

You didn't know the damn prayer. Couldn't even try to fake it when all you could manage was muffled pleas for him to slow down, go easy on you, have mercy. Your jaw ached, throat burned at the force he used to make you take as much of his cock as you possibly could.

He didn't show any signs of fatigue, save for the beads of sweat that rolled from his face and onto your own. He grinned at that, at you, the position you were in. The church was full of sickos, and he was certainly no exception.

Making one feeble attempt to fight back, your teeth grazed his cock, and just as you tried to work up the courage to bite down, he jerked his hips, cursing under his breath.

"Take it," his voice a low growl as he came in your mouth, ignoring your choking, spit and snot and cum leaking down your face and onto your vinyl costume and exposed breasts, "take your penance, slut."

Father Charlie hardly gave you a chance to catch your breath when he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth. You practically collapsed on your bedroom floor, each gasp of air painful against the back of your abused throat. Grabbing you by the habit again, he hauled you over to your bed, bending you over the edge of it.

He shoved his fingers between your legs and scoffed at the wetness that coated your thighs, your thong doing little to contain your subconscious reaction to the way he treated you. "Oh, that's just shameful," he drawled. "You're not repentant at all, are you? Leading a man of the cloth astray, causing me to sin…why else would you have put this costume on tonight?"

Straddling you from behind like a dog, his body was heavy on yours. With one hand squeezing your neck, the other pressed something against your throat. You reached for whatever he was holding, freezing in panic when you realized it was the hair scissors you kept in your bathroom. He must have swiped it while he was in there. They weren't even that sharp, but the extra effort he'd have to put in to mortally injure you with them would mean it would be all the more painful for you.

“Depraved, animal, barbaric,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is that what you think of me?”

You whimpered, feeling his cruel laughter rumble in his chest against your back. “No—no, you can’t be—”

“I was going to do something about that costume anyway, but having that mutual friend in common,” he mused, “I just can’t pass up the opportunity to leave Detective Tryon a personal message. Call it divine will.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked out.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can tell God yourself how sorry you are,” he whispered.

“No—Father, please don’t—”

#father charlie x reader #father charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie mayhew #father charlie grotesquerie #father charlie smut #grotesquerie #charlie mayhew #father charlie #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez

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staybabblingbaby · 21 hours ago

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I love things like this pls count me in always, tysm for the tag <3

1. Who’s your bias line?

I’m actually running a small contest on my blog rn so I can’t say. It’s been forgotten abt but I’m committing to the bit - I’ll write a text fic (one shot) for anyone who can guess my bias by my blog. I’ll revisit this if anyone makes a guess (no one has lol) I think it’s p obvious but no one has taken a crack at it lol

Update; Contest finished! My bias is Felix, and Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Han are all on my Bias line (the whole group is rlly, but if I HAVE to choose)

2. Who made you Stan?

I.N! Felix brought them to my attention, but I.N in Megaverse is the one that made me buckle in for the ride. He got me asking “Oh, what’s his name?” And as you know the rest is history xD

3. What song was your first?

Probably LaLaLaLa? The challenge was still going strong on TikTok when I first got into K-pop. I would consider Comflex the first song I really listened to on purpose tho. And Megaverse the song that rlly got me into them.

4. What’s your current favorite song?

That’s so difficult noooooooo T^T Venom, Any, and Winter Falls are all consistent faves. Ohh but Cover Me too! I don’t know! You can’t make me choose!

5. Which member’s personality resembles yours the most?

Probably Lee Know? Idk lol. Han’s a good bet too.

6. If you had to pick a Racha which would you choose?

To bias or to join? DanceRacha for the first, VocalRacha for the second

7. What’s one attribute of the members you like the most?

I like how noodle-y and expressive Hyunjin’s dance is! His style is just so unique.

8. What’s your favorite album?

Probably between Oddinary and ATE

9. Do you have any albums?

Yes, I do! I have ATE and GIANT is on its way. I bought HOP too, recently. I hope to get all of them eventually <3 All version too, if I’m lucky.

10. Have you been to a concert?

Not yet, but I have a ticket for Chicago in June!

11. Who’s your favorite duo?

I can’t pick like this T^T They all have such unique and fun relationships! Seungbin, maybe? Hyunnibini? Minsung is always cute, but Aussie line is so precious! I don’t knooooooowwww T^T This quiz is causing me emotional distress.

12. Favorite Solo/Cover song?

Han’s Maybe is SO GOOD it’s on all of my writing playlists. I’m not actually all that familiar with many of their covers, but I’ll Be Your Man on Kingdom was a religious experience.

13. Favorite Skzoo?

PuppyM, FoxI.Ny, or Jinneret. My cuties <3

14. If you had a day with one member what would you do with them?

I’d like to bake with Felix if given the chance! I think we’d have a great time, I love baking with friends <3

15. Who’s your favorite singing voice?

Han. Don’t get me wrong, I think Seungmin is THE vocalist of all time, but Han’s rockstar rasp suits my taste to a T.

16. Who’s your favorite to watch dance?

Hyunijn! We touched on this earlier, I just think his style is SO unique.

17. Do you you have a favorite SKZ Code?

Probably the escape room one? That was very funny. The recent pool one had me in stitches too. Oh! The one on Jeju island!!! I loved that one. Many favorites yet again.

18. Favorite MV?

Probably between Chk Chk Boom, Venom, and Christmas Evel. They were all very fun MVs with cool stories. I like all of their MVs tho lol

19. Who do you think you’d be best friends with?

I think if Lee Know and I could get past our respective types of shy we’d either get on like a house on fire or tear each other apart. It’d probably be really easy to befriend Felix tho. That’s an extrovert that can adopt me right there.

20. Let’s feed those delusions: Who are you picking for a date and what are you doing?

I think either Seungmin or Hyunjin would be my picks. I could probably have a very lovely and romantic museum date and cafe-crawl with Hyunjin, and Seungmin seems like he’d be the attentive sort and arrange activities or a nice dinner or something. Idk, I don’t date much, I just like hanging out with people I like so ^^;; I’d be an easy date to please, at least.

I’ll nominate @brbwritingfanfic @thatgirlangelb @lazyfacecowboy and anyone else who wants to!

.·:*¨ 𝑮𝒆𝒕 𝑻𝒐 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 ¨*:·.

20 Questions for my fellow Stays!

Making a little tag game because I love them and I’m nosy tbh. I also just love interacting with yall!

1: What’s your current bias line?

2: Who’s the one that made you Stan?

3: What song was your first?

4: What’s your current favorite song?

5: What members personally resembles yours the most?

6: If you had to pick a specific racha which would you choose?

7: What’s one attribute of the members do you like the most? (Example: Chans dimples)

8: What’s your favorite album?

9: Do you have any albums?

10: Have you been to a concert?

11: Who’s your favorite duo?

12: Favorite cover/solo songs:

13: Favorite SKZOO?

14: If you had a day with one member what would you wanna do with them?

15: Who’s your favorite singing voice?

16: Who’s your favorite to watch dance?

17: Do you have a favorite SKZ Code?

18: Favorite MV?

19: Who do you think you’d be best friends with?

20: Let’s feed those delusions, Who are you picking for a date and what are you doing?

#tag games #stray kids #skz #kpop tag game #tag game #get to know the blogger #skz stay #🧭#Stay babbling

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jesuis-assez · 3 days ago

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We know that Lucy calls Tim babe (I refuse to use past tense I’m in denial lol), if you could have your way, what would Tim call Lucy as a pet name? #ChenfordChats

Hmm... I think I'd melt if he called her 'Baby' or 'Sweetheart' I have a soft spot for those ones. I don't know what that's about. I don't want to go there 🤣

And if I think of moments where those terms of endearments could've been used:

6x04:

When he rushed to the hospital and comforted her by touching her head ever so gently. Him softly telling her, "My god, you didn't have to take my hero suggestion so literally" If we were to replace "my god" with "sweetheart" or "baby" ?? 👌

6x06: ( Everyone put your pitchforks down and hear me out ) 🤣

If he said "I'm sorry, baby" or 'sweetheart' right before kissing her forehead. Although, I'm not sure how it would have fit exactly in the scene. But, I wouldn't object to it. It actually was one of my favourite scenes of theirs in season six. It had everything for me. It ripped me apart emotionally and left me wanting more. I loved it, no sarcasm here. I'm being genuine.

The scene itself is already packed with so much angst. But, then there would be them holding hands, " I'm sorry, [term of endearment]" and a forehead kiss in there. We're already on the ground dying and that would just finish us off.

In 6x03:

Lucy is over preparing for her detective exam with Tim being so amazing and supportive.

What he said here was truly enough and It doesn't matter so much that a sweetheart wasn't at the end of him saying 'yourself', but I would've loved it even more. I thought him saying that to her was a huge thing to say, coming from someone who ALWAYS needs to feel in control.

Because Lucy was so far in her head with it. So much that she had been projecting all of her self-doubt onto Tim. She couldn't see that he was being supportive, because it's not like her parents were ever supportive of her career. She's never had that support.

Yes, Lucy. And not even yourself, either.

That's what she was doing. Listening to that voice in her head telling her that she isn't good enough. That she's not ready and she can't do it. And Tim being her number 1 supporter was there reminding her not to do that. After all... he had taught her not to.

And to see her going back into that mind-set, to see Lucy filling herself with all that self-doubt again? To second guess herself again... It must be hard to watch someone you love, spiral like that. To try and help them through it and no matter what you say or do, it only pushes them further to burning out.

I focused heavily on season 6 for examples. Even if he were just to say, "Are you okay, baby?" I am aware that he said 'baby' to Isabel before (When she got shot in the head) but, that doesn't mean shit here 🤣 It's obviously a term he has been comfortable with using in the past. I don't see why he wouldn't use it again, unless he were to come up with something specially for Lucy. (What I am hoping for)

If he were to actually use 'sweetheart' that would also fit well for Lucy, for how kind-hearted she is and has been to him.

I do hope that Tim might use something that we've never heard before. *fingers crossed* for this one. It won't matter if he doesn't. I'm ALMOST sure whatever endearment he comes up with (if he even does) some of us will probably pass out on the spot *raises hand* Me. I'd-- I'd do that. Ok, I might (very unlikely)

But what most likely would happen is what usually happens. I'll either be internally screaming or I'll sit there on the spot inaudibly screaming 'Ahhhh' while pointing.

I'm hoping it would be something that's unique to their relationship. Or at least Lucy. I'd be so on board for that! I am a sucker for those kinds of nickname/endearments, too.

Y'know, something similar to when she was his rookie and he would incessantly call her 'boot'.

Thank yooooou for sending me this ! I may have put waaay too much thought into this. I'm incapable of answering without talking extensively about it. This ask was a lot of fun 💖🤭

#chenford #chenfordchats #ask #I threw the endearments in the gifs so ya'll can visualise the dream 🤣#Kinda felt like I lost myself along the way and was answering outside of the question but it's all connected.#I'd be a miss if I didn't discuss other things alongside of the question. They end up connecting somehow

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baronessvonglitter · 21 hours ago

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 20 🍒

"Baby Loves Me"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 8,823 (she's a big'un)

Summary: A blizzard, a wedding, family secrets, and two people who can't stop thinking about each other. Are these fateful events going to drive you apart for good, or bring you even closer together?

(Warnings contain spoilers beneath the cut)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place a few days before Christmas 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of health issues, oral (m & f receiving), Ellie has anger issues, use of guns for recreational shooting, jealous!Joel, mutual pining, reader wears makeup and dresses, unprotected piv, creampie, TW for minor heart attack and hospitalization (everything is okay in the end), getting back together and having a happily ever after. In this universe everyone is alive and happy.

Author's Note: this series was the first story I ever posted on AO3 and then recently here on tumblr. I had no idea so many people would love it, and it's currently my most liked, most commented-on, and most bookmarked work on AO3 ♥️ It feels so good to finally have this complete, but I will write some one-shots about this couple in the future, because part of me really doesn't want to let them go. Much love to those who stuck around and showed their support while I got this story hammered out. I love and appreciate all of you!

Please enjoy this playlist for your listening pleasure, songs that either appear in the series or provided inspiration

Series Masterlist

It's early when Joel wakes, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he puts his hand to his heart, eyes scrunched closed tight as he prepares himself for the increasingly painful palpitations. He grunts in suffering at the agony of the erratic pounding of his heart, body tense until it passes, and he sighs with relief, head in his hands as he runs his fingers through his greying locks.

It's been almost a week now that he's had these pains, happening every day now that Sarah's wedding day is nearing. He gets them on and off but lately stress has been catching up to him and reminding him he's not in his thirties anymore. Hell, he'd give anything just to be in his forties again.

He gets up to get a glass of water, quickly throwing on a shirt before going downstairs. The house is quiet though he can see the electric glow of the television light on underneath yours and Ellie's rooms. He hesitates just outside of your room, putting an ear to the door, hoping to catch some tidbit of your voice, some clue as to what you're doing in there, but it's quiet, just the low volume of something playing on TV.

With a sigh he goes down to the kitchen.

Alone with his thoughts, affected by the presence of you and Ellie under his own roof, he takes stock of his life, of all the moments he failed you when he should have been there for you.

That first night he set foot back in Austin after serving time in the Bexar County jail, wondering if he should call you, he'd gone instead to a bar and met Hailey. He didn't recognize her at first, but she'd come on so strong, and the alcohol ran freely that night, so by the time he'd taken her home and her warm, tight little mouth was wrapped around his cock, it was too late. He didn't expect that that one night would lead to her wanting more, but by then you were gone, tucked back safely away in Houston where he couldn't get his hands on you and where you could (he'd hoped) in time forget about him. You were too much of a good girl with too much potential to waste it on someone like him. Hailey was someone who was always going to be stuck in a small town, so he didn't have to worry he was holding her back. But he soon came to realize that all they had between them was fucking. Not that he'd ever minded it in the past, but after having you, experiencing what real love was like, what Hailey offered felt like a cheap replacement, and he just wasn't that man anymore. He knew Sarah hated her, so when he caught Hailey stealing from him he knew that was the last straw and ended things.

Sad to say he went back to his usual routine from before he met you. Working from sunup to sundown, coming home with new aches in his joints to a meal Sarah had had to cook herself, or pizza that had gone cold. On the weekends he'd be at the bar, either with Tommy or more often alone, and he'd find a woman and wind up at her place. He could never bring them back to his, not in his bed that he shared with you.

Seeing you in New Orleans that summer night had been a shock to his system. He thought he'd managed to get over you just a little, but seeing you, a little older than the last time, looking soft and happy and bright-eyed as you laughed with Tommy.. and that fucking rock on your finger that signaled you were taken. Something primeval in him stirred when he ran into you in that restroom hallway, your lips full and glossy from making out with his brother, jealousy surging through him that you'd be so willing to cheat on your husband-to-be with someone other than himself.. it led him to want you more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

Leaving you the next day had been the hardest thing, but he had to remind himself you were going to belong to another. He couldn't get in the way of that, not when he'd only shown his love for you by fucking you in a bar restroom. You were going to marry a military man and have a respectable life, that was what he wanted for you. To have a life with Joel would only make you sordid, ripe for gossip. He was old enough to be your father and you were in fact his his best friend's daughter. He couldn't sully your life with his mistakes.

On a last minute whim he'd come to your wedding, sat at the very back as you were oblivious to him, staring into your husband's eyes as you spoke your vows, each word a piece of jagged glass in his heart. He'd left before you could see him, driving back to Texas at a high rate of speed, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. Why hadn't he just objected? He could have done it, raised his hand and told the entire congregation that you were his god damn it. He would have led you out, carrying you bridal style, ripped your damn dress off you and fucked you senseless.

It was later that Tommy suggested the dating app. Joel wasn't a fan of technology, and in fact still had his old Nokia phone that Sarah was warning him was becoming obsolete and cajoled him into upgrading to a smartphone. Once she and Tommy had helped him with setting up a profile on eHarmony, the requests piled in. Women from all over the state showed their interest. He had his pick of almost anyone. While he went on a few fruitless dates (some of which actually ended up in sex) there were few that actually interested him.

Until Tess. She was so much like him, and more suited to his age. A divorcee, she knew what she wanted in a relationship and stuck by her values. Beneath her tough exterior Joel found she was actually very kindhearted, even sweet. She cared about animals, liked beer, and was a homebody. She'd resisted his charms at first, but eventually neither could give in to the spark they felt. It took some convincing to get her to marry him. She accepted only on the terms that he move to Boston. She'd visited Texas a few times on business, but she wanted to stay in the northeast, and Joel, in love again for the first time in years, acquiesced.

The problem was they were too much alike. Both wanted to lead, and while he was happy to let Tess have the reigns now and then, it became an issue. This led to more arguments, tense discussions over things that shouldn't have mattered. The divorce, when it finally happened, was a blessing in disguise. Joel followed Tommy away from Boston and found comfort here in Wyoming, in a place he could start anew.

Sarah had been none too subtle when she brought you up in conversation. "Did you know she's a teacher?" "She's single now, divorced actually." "She's in California with her daughter."

Every damn day there was a phone call or a text where you were mentioned. And now, with you here under his roof at Sarah's behest, it was apparent that she was trying to get you two back together again.

He knew he needed to speak with you about that comment you uttered, about "our" daughter Ellie. He'd done the math in his head, just to be safe, and had calculated that he could indeed be her dad. But he had to get the honest answer from you.

It'd be easy if you would at least acknowledge his presence.

Your cold shoulder is more like an arctic icy blast. Your refusal to even meet his eye is like an arrow through his heart. He wishes that you would at least glare at him, or say something sarcastic or hurtful, but your silence is the coldest thing, even with the blizzard outside.

He's hopeful during one moment the next morning, as he's going into the hall restroom while you're coming out. Freshly showered, you're wearing a towel around your body, skin glowing, hair combed back and damp. The steam that surrounds you from your hot shower makes you look like a figure from a movie, an ethereal angel come to earth. His breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, your beautiful eyes wide and plush lips parted. Then you resume your coldness, pulling your towel tighter around you as you go to your room. When he steps in he smells the jasmine aroma of your body wash still in the air around him his dick hardens in response.

Hearing that Sofia has arrived is the one bright spot in your time here.

You meet her at the Tipsy Bison after everyone has helped out shoveling snow off the path. You'd found yourself working next to Joel and said nothing to him, ignoring his silent appeal for you to talk to him.

Now the crew is indulging in some food and beer at the bar while you catch up with your cousin.

"How did you get in? I thought the roads were impassable," you tell her after a big hug and an introduction to her fiancee Ruby. It had come as a surprise to you when she'd told you she was marrying a woman, but Sofia had said she'd only followed her heart and didn't consider herself stuck to any sort of label. Ruby was the perfect person for her and there was no looking back.

"Tommy sent a pilot friend of his to pick us up from the airport when our taxi couldn't make it through the snow," she says, nearly knocked over as Ellie pummels her with a bear hug. "We were helicoptered in, like a couple of VIPs."

It's like old times as you share a booth altogether, different kinds of appetizers in the center of the table as you catch up on things.

"How did you manage to still stay friends with Tommy?" you ask when Ruby and Ellie go to make change for the jukebox. Hearing that Sofia is staying with Tommy and Maria during their visit, you can't help but wonder how other people can so easily put aside the past.

"I think it helped that we were friends before we started dating," she shrugs. "And.. to be honest, our relationship never got that serious. Not like you and Joel," she finishes in a whisper, darting a glance at the elder Miller brother, who's knocking back some beer with Tommy and a few others.

"Why do you ask?" Sofia continues.

"I don't know how to deal with being under the same roof as Joel," you admit. "Everything that he put me through.. I know we're only here for a few days but it feels like an eternity. It's becoming harder to avoid him."

"You should talk to him," she says gently. "You don't have to be best friends or anything, but you're a friend of the bride. You should at least be civil."

You sneak a look over your shoulder at him, just to find he's already staring at you. You quickly turn away.

"Does he know about.." Sofia motions with her head toward Ellie, who's at the jukebox with Ruby.

"No," you respond. "And he doesn't need to know."

"That's not fair to him," she softly scolds you.

"You are the only one I've trusted with this, Sofia. Please do not make me regret telling you."

Sofia is really the only family you have left. You never saw you father after that fateful night when Joel fought him, and your mother disowned Ellie when she came out, causing you to disown your mother in return. Your circle is small but faithful.

She backs off. "All right," she relents. "But what about Ellie? She'll resent you for keeping this a secret this long."

You watch your daughter, who's drifted from the jukebox to one of the pool tables, mindlessly spinning the cue ball upon the soft green surface. She's distracted when she sees another girl across the room, a pretty dark-haired girl around her own age, watching Ellie furtively, as if fascinated.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Ellie shouts, causing the girl to run away.

"Ellie!" you snap at her, and to your astonishment Joel walks past you to go to her. You freeze, watching their interaction, but all seems to be okay as they talk quietly.

"I don't know what to do for her. I don't know how to help her.. she's so angry, especially since the divorce. And Justin rarely ever sees her. The only thing he's good for is the child support." You swig your beer, itching to go and talk to her, but the stubborn side of you refuses to be closer to Joel than is necessary.

Sofia folds her napkin in sections. "She called me and told me about Riley.. and the little mishap at the mall."

Earlier that year, Ellie and Riley had been picked up by the cops for trespassing in an abandoned mall and vandalizing some stores. It was completely unlike her, and even though you both sought family therapy for all the issues you were going through, it didn't seem to be making much leeway.

"She doesn't seem so angry now," Sofia mentions, and you turn to see Joel and Ellie starting a game of pool. You both watch as she tries to pull off complicated trick shots and Joel just shakes his head in feigned frustration. Once again your gaze lingers too long and you lock eyes, but this time you offer a tiny smile, mouthing 'thanks.'

"Hey Mom, can I go with Joel and Finn? Joel said I have to ask you."

You look up from where you're steam-cleaning your dress for the rehearsal dinner tonight. "Where are you going?"

"It's near the woods on Joel's property. We're just going for a hike," she shrugs.

"I guess.. just behave yourself, okay?"

She grins, glad to have gotten permission. You follow her down to the foyer where Joel and Finn are getting their hats and gloves on. "Be careful," you tell them, though it's mostly meant for Joel.

"Of course. You're okay with her shootin'?"

"What?!"

Ellie manages to look chagrined. "I didn't think you'd let me go if you knew guns would be involved."

"Well you thought right!"

"I won't let her if you won't allow it," Joel offers.

"Come on!" Ellie groans.

"Just remember that you're on thin ice back home," you tell her without wanting to let on to the others about Ellie's troubled past.

"Somethin' the matter?" Joel asks, eyes darting between you and her.

"Nope," Ellie's all smiles when you hesitate to answer. "Let's get going!"

She and Finn race out the door into the snowy yard just as Joel stops for a brief moment. "I won't let her shoot if you don't want her to," he says solemnly.

The nearness of him, the rich baritone of his voice could easily bring you to your knees. It feels like a chore just to swallow that emotion and consider it dead, a mistake.

"Just be careful," you repeat, a smile flitting on your lips. Heat rises in your face when you see his gaze drop down to your mouth, his tongue peeking out to swipe across his own lips.

"You could come with us."

Your first instinct is to refuse, to keep that wall built between him and yourself. Good fences make good neighbors and brick walls keep people from reliving past trauma.

But damn it's hard to say no when he's here right in front of you, after all this time, and the parts of you that have healed just want to give in, to go into his arms again.

It's not a surprise when you're in the passenger seat of his truck, like old times. And though it's a newer model and the seats have warmers and the upholstery makes the whole car smell like it was just driven off the lot, in a way it still feels like summer 2003.

Finn's done this before, the apple of his grandfather's eye. Even with the skill of a child, he shoots with ease, knocking down most of the targets Joel had set up on a fence.

When it's Ellie's turn she's eager for the gun, but her practice shots are haphazard: off an old fallen tree, a random snowbank. She huffs in frustration.

"Wide right," Joel tells her. "You're flinchin'."

Ellie shakes her head. "The target's too small."

"I made it bigger than I should've. Eject the cartridge."

You watch your only child move with precision, handling the gun with ease despite being new to this. "I'm not flinching, the rifle just sucks."

You and Finn exchange a look, suppressing your laughter.

"Okay, give it." Joel changes places with Ellie, who quips, "It doesn't aim right, you'll see."

It's hard to tear your eyes from him as he sets up, moving with the ease of someone half his age. "A deep breath in, slow breath out. You squeeze the trigger like you love it," he says, ignoring Ellie's teasing remarks. "Gentle, steady, nice and slow."

"You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?" she smirks, and when you laugh out loud Joel shakes his head, pulling off the perfect shot.

After, you rest on the tailgate of the truck while drinking warm beverages from your thermoses. Ellie and Finn gather their energy quickly enough, playing in the snow and chasing each other. It brightens your day to see your daughter smiling.

"I wanna apologize for the other day," Joel says, his eyes flicking to you. "I was outta line. I've apologized to Ellie too. I think she and I are good now."

You nod, somewhat relieved that he'd brought it up first. "I'm sorry too. I guess I get pretty riled up when someone tries to out-parent me."

Joel looks away, towards the mountains that peak their grayness against the clear blue sky. "He been outta the picture long?"

"Who? Justin?" You notice Joel winces at your ex husband's name. "Long enough. He was supposed to spend time with her for Christmas but chose his new wife over his own daughter. She didn't take it very well."

"Fuckin' bastard," he mutters. "Always figured there was a reason for me to not like him."

You give him a strange look. "You didn't know him."

"Didn't need to. He took you away from me. That's reason enough."

"Joel," you say quietly, both a scolding and a scoff. You remember his body against yours that night, the way your sheets bore his scent until the day before Justin came back from out of town and you had to wash away the evidence of your betrayal.

"I'm sorry I didn't go after you. There were a million opportunities and I failed each time."

You say his name again, with softness this time, your hand finding his, his palm almost completely dwarfing yours. You think about his fingers inside you, teasing you for the first time, showing you how to open up to him, and how you ended up giving away your whole heart.

In the moment where you can say the most heartwarming or romantic or even angry thing, what comes out of your mouth is: "You never accepted my friend request."

Joel looks puzzled. "What?"

"My friend request. On Facebook. I tried to add you but you never accepted it, so I canceled it." Cringing at your own words, how needy they sound, you take your hand from his, but he traps it within his own again.

"Darlin', I never look at that stuff. I only got one 'cause everyone else goaded me into it." His eyes look mirthful as he sees your doleful eyes.

"And that's how I found out about Tess.."

"Oh." The mirthful look is gone, replaced by a dark, blank look. The first marriage, the only marriage he ever had, so late in life, ended.

"What was she like?"

"Why do you wanna know?" He looks at the ground, as if the snow is so interesting. "What was that idiot fuckboy husband of yours like?"

You almost laugh, surprised that he's jealous, even after you've moved on from your marriage.

"He wasn't as great as I thought," you shrug. "But that doesn't matter now."

Joel smiles, agreeing. "Tess was.. we were good for awhile but you're right, doesn't matter now."

"Because we both turned out okay.. me and you."

He thinks it over a bit, eventually nodding. "Yeah.." His deep brown eyes meet yours, and you catch a glimmer of the man he was before, twenty years past, a single dad with a teenage girl and an interest in the new girl next door. "I'm sorry.. for everything. We happened so fast that my brain had to catch up with my heart."

You're afraid that if you think about it for too long you'll cry and never stop. "We don't have to talk about that.."

He nods, looking a little sad that you declined. "You're right, we don't."

"Look at you with all this land," you smile, gently teasing him to change the subject. "What are you gonna do with all of it?"

Joel shrugs, looking at his property, thinking again of the possibilities. "I might decide to turn it into a ranch, raise sheep," he shrugs. "They're quiet and do what they're told."

He's quiet another moment, before his voice drops an octave. "I'm really glad you came, babygirl.. it's really good to see you. Don't think I said that before."

A smile graces your lips, a genuine one, and the warmth of his words melts what's left of your defenses. "Joel.. there's something I need to tell you.. about Ellie.." The words are out before you even think.

Your heart pounds, taking residence in your throat as if to keep the truth from spilling out. Joel turns his whole body to you. His eyes search yours, without question or condemnation, as if he's willing you to say it because he already knows, because he just wants it made real.

When the moment passes it's a disappointment to both of you. It's getting later in the afternoon and you still need to get ready for tonight. The kids trudge back to the truck and you get in next to Joel in the front. There's a quietness that fills the space, thick and somewhat desperate.

The Tipsy Bison has gone through another temporary makeover for the rehearsal dinner: garlands of lights arch across the ceiling from beam to beam, creating a pleasant, dreamy atmosphere. People mill around waiting for the bride and groom who are running a little late. Drinks are served and tables of food boast different kinds of cuisine.

Ellie makes a beeline for the hors d'oevres, immediately picking out what she wants and stuffing it straight into her mouth as if she hasn't seen food in months. Joel watches her from the next table over, trying hard as hell not to call her out too harshly, but as his stomach growls he joins her in the hunt for sustenance.

A tray of pastel-colored macarons catches Ellie's eye and she takes a light green treat with her fingers. "What are these?" She scrutinizes it, taking a quick sniff.

"It's some kinda cookie.. or something.. how the hell should I know?" he grumbles.

"Pistachio," she grunts in disgust, putting it back on the plate.

"Well, now don't put it back, you've already touched it and sniffed it and everything.." Joel quickly pops the discarded macaron into his mouth.

"If you want 'em they're all yours," she says, giving his shoulder a couple heavy claps before moving on down the line of food.

He just shakes his head, looking around for you for the tenth time tonight, finding you with Sarah and her soon-to-be inlaws at the bar. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you in a dark red dress, long-sleeved, cinched at the waist, and he feels a familiar rush of blood to his cock as he eyes the thigh-length slit on one side of the skirt.

"That color is sensational on you."

You turn to the voice you've just heard, as the group you were talking with disperses.

"Hi," you tell the older, well-dressed man in front of you. "I don't believe we've met." But then it hits you, and just as he introduces himself you realize you already know his name.

"I'm Frank," he says, a Duchenne smile lighting up his features and crinkling the wrinkles around his eyes. He's handsome, and very friendly. And he was friends with Joel during his marriage to Tess.

He introduces you to his husband Bill, who regards you with a certain suspicion and gives a gruff acknowledgement to your hello. "He's like that with everyone," Franks explains in a stage whisper, while rolling his eyes. "He's just a big grump, but I love him."

"I'm a friend of the bride," you tell them after giving your name, and also introducing Ellie, who's arrived next to you with a plate piled high with shrimp, pulled pork sliders, and mini cheesecakes.

"She's a friend of Joel's," Frank tells Bill, as if to clarify.

"Um, yes.. I'm also a friend of his," you agree. Pretending to spot someone across the room, you excuse yourself, giving a subtle motion for Ellie to follow you, but she stays where she is, popping a whole shrimp in her mouth, eyeing the couple.

"There's a story there," Frank says enticingly as he sips his beer.

"What do you mean?" she asks, curious about the gossip.

Bill gives him a look and shakes his head. "She's a kid, she doesn't need your dramatic stories."

"Now I have to know!" Ellie insists.

Frank feigns annoyance. "Oh all right."

He weaves the tale of Joel and his wife Tess: happily married at first, so alike in attitude and hobbies. She thought she knew everything about the man she married, but when Tommy, in a drunken game of poker one night, recalled a certain young woman who Joel knew, a woman who could tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, Joel told his brother, in a similar drunken state, that he remembered her fondly, missed her like crazy, she was the one who got away.

Tess wasn't the type to hound someone for details, but she didn't like there was a part of Joel's past that she didn't know about. Especially if that past was filled with him falling in love with and screwing a college girl. This naturally led to arguments that Tess refused to drop. Joel didn't want to relive that time with you, and insisted it meant nothing since you were well and truly out of his life.

But the damage had been done, and the thorn of jealousy had pierced Tess's heart. You were a stranger to her and still could not be defeated.

Frank recalled with suppressed glee the night Tess had stormed out on a dinner party, ranting at Joel about "not being able to get over a stupid ass teenager" and causing a scene for the others to eat up. It had embarrassed Joel deeply, but when news of Sarah's wedding had become known, Joel couldn't keep it secret from the friends of his ex-wife. He'd come to like them in his own way, especially Bill, with whom he shared a predilection for quiet and keeping to one's self. They hunted and fished like old times and soon enough both he and Frank were invited to the wedding.

"There's a saying that goes," Frank is telling Ellie, "'everyone can see it but them.'"

Ellie glances at you across the room, and then at Joel. You and he trade silent, surreptitious glances at one another, filled with longing. You glance at him and he catches you before you glance away, and vice versa. The signal between your gazes is irrefutable. There's something there, has been all this time. All it needed was a little meddling from Sarah to bring the spark back to life.

For the first time Ellie sees you as something more than her mother. She realizes you had a past, a life before she was born, and a fraction of that life was spent in love with a man she just met a couple days ago.

"Hey Mom, can you help?"

Hearing Ellie, you immediately shift into Mom Mode, stopping your own get-ready routine to assist her. She's in your doorway, holding out her wrists. She picked out the suit herself, but the cufflinks are something new.

"Did you get these from your dad?"

"Joel let me borrow them for today."

It's finally the day of the wedding, and as the ceremony isn't until the evening, the whole house is a kind of organized chaos from morning through the afternoon. As if your nerves weren't already on fire, Sarah had approached you early that morning (fortunately for her while you were drinking your coffee) and asked if you'd replace one of her bridesmaids who'd come down with a cold overnight and couldn't attend.

You'd reasoned with her that you didn't have a bridesmaid dress, but that was easily solved when it was revealed the bridesmaids were all wearing jewel tones, and the sapphire gown you'd purchased off the rack would do just fine.

You had anticipated being part of a crowd. Now you'd be at the front of the congregation, all eyes on you, especially Joel's.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you finish helping Ellie with her cufflinks and let her entertain you with whatever teenage thought is flipping around in her brain while you touch up your makeup.

"I'm supposed to meet with Sarah and the bridal party at the church. You can ride with me or you'll have to find a ride with someone else."

"Joel will take me."

You brush away some stray powder on your cheek. "Are you sure?"

"Maybe he could take both of us. Want me to ask him?"

"No--"

But she's gone before you can stop her.

You feel Joel's eyes on you as you during the short drive to the church, and you blame the heat you feel coursing through your body on the seat warmer.

"It's a nice thing you're doin' for Sarah, steppin' in at the last minute," he says, eyes finally on the road.

"I can't let down a bride in need," you say somewhat cheerfully. "She'd do the same for me."

"Maybe at your next wedding." Ellie pipes up from the backseat, and Joel's frown is not lost on you.

The lead-up to the actual ceremony is a blur, as it was at your own wedding fifteen years before. The bridal party clusters around Sarah, who looks radiant, as she promises she isn't nervous. You can sense her agitation in the way her knee bounces as she's seated, one of the bridesmaids doing a last minute touch up to her hair. The air is heavy with excitement, the scent of hair spray and perfume all around you, reminding you that you're flammable.

"Remember this day," you advise her, and she looks up at you with a grateful smile. "It goes by unbelievably fast."

You wonder if you'll ever have this again, the butterflies in your stomach as you wait for the moment when you see your man at the aisle, awaiting you. You were lucky to have it once. Twice would be an anomaly, considering you haven't had a real relationship in so long.

Joel knocks and, granted entrance, the bridesmaids flutter about, getting ready for their entrance into the church. The bride and her father are left alone, no doubt exchanging words of love before he gives her away to her true love.

You had no one to walk down the aisle with when you were a bride, and the memory threatens to cloud your mind as you take your small bouquet of white roses and camellias. "Canon in D" starts, and the line makes its way down the aisle, towards the altar where Theo and his groomsmen wait.

Situated at the altar, the congregation rises as the music changes, and Sarah walks in, arm in arm with Joel.

Your eyes are on him the entire time, and your heart feels to big to fit in your chest. You've never seen Joel in a suit, but this one is perfectly tailored to his broad, strong physique. His hair is perfectly styled, his grey visible through the curls you long to run your fingers through.

When Sarah and Theo exchange vows your gaze unexpectedly meet Joel's and this time neither of you look away. You catch the glimmer of a tear falling down his cheek, which he does not wipe away. The bride and groom's words seem to ring loud and true: a promise of love through hard times and illness; of love that only grows in each others' absence; of love that does not die even after death.

The reception is held at the Tipsy Bison, and you marvel at how it's managed to disguise itself once more from a saloon to an elegant wedding atmosphere. A lot of money has gone into the week's events, and you know it's all Joel's doing. He's giving away his daughter, sending her off in style, giving her a day she'll remember forever.

You watch Sarah and Joel during their father-daughter dance, a tradition you didn't get to have yourself. "I Loved Her First" by Heartland starts up by the band onstage, and it tugs on your heartstrings to watch them. In the back of your mind you see them, Joel still thirty-six and Sarah still fourteen. By the time Sarah and Theo have their first dance as husband and wife you're already in the ladies' room, splashing cold water on your face so no one can see you've been crying.

Later, the bridesmaids and groomsmen have scattered, dancing or drinking at the bar, mingling. You stay at your seat at the now nearly-empty wedding party table, fingers twirling the stem of your champagne glass.

Mired in your own thoughts, you don't realize Joel has approached, crouching next to you.

"Dance with me?" he asks, his voice nearly a rasp with how nervous he is.

Wordlessly you take his hand, which practically dwarfs your own, as he leads you to the dance floor. You fall into a rhythm as the band starts up "Tennessee Whiskey", swaying softly to the music. His right hand rests on your lower back, gently guiding you. Your heart pounds as you gaze into his eyes. You haven't been this close to him since the night you conceived Ellie, the fateful night that threw a wrench into all your plans.

"It was a beautiful wedding," you lean in close to be heard over the music.

Joel shivers at your proximity, the brush of your lips against his ear, and he pulls you a little closer. "I'm happy you came all this way for it. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," you affirm, your hand gliding up to his shoulder.

The air is thick with tension, much like in the days you'd first met. You have to turn away or risk your feelings made known to everyone here.

Ellie's at one of the booths with the dark-haired girl from a couple days ago, watching something on her phone. As the girl laughs you see Ellie looking at her with a warmth you haven't known her capable of for anyone else.

"She's going to hate me for having to take her away again.." you tell him. "I haven't seen her this happy in a long time."

He clears his throat. "Maybe now she has a reason to return." He nods towards Ellie and her new friend.

Your limbs stiffen a little in response. You're not yet ready to think about the future, the possibilities it holds. You've barely begun to mend your friendship with Joel.

"Maybe," you relent, quietly, a promise made in the ether.

Joel's silent as the music moves smoothly in the air between you. His grip tightens on your body as he asks, "She's mine, ain't she?"

You snap from your thoughts, your heart in your throat as you stop dancing. "Excuse me?" Your eyes bore into him, daring him to speak the truth for himself.

"The other day you said 'our daughter'.. the timeline's right, I'm not that bad at math," he manages a smile.

"Joel, I.." you shake your head. "It's all too much. I can't think about this right now."

"Just tell me the truth," he says quietly.

"What would it matter if she was?"

"It'd make a whole hell of a difference. Two daughters, two Miller girls. Don't you think somethin' like that would make me happy?"

For a rare moment you let yourself think about the day your mother came to get you, pull you back home to Houston seeped in shame and regret. She'd lied and manipulated facts to get you on her side. You vowed you'd never be like her or put Ellie through that.

"Yes, Joel.." you whisper. "She's yours.."

The joy that shines in his eyes is like nothing you've ever seen before. When his arms wrap around you your lips find his as if twenty years has never passed between you. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, you're making out like teenagers.

"I want you," he growls.

"Let's get out of here," you agree.

You're barely through the front door of his home when he presses you to the wall, his mouth hungry for yours. You hadn't thought you'd experience this level of passion again, but time has not diminished it for either of you.

"Joel," you moan as he presses himself to you, the blunt hardness of his erection teasing you. "Fuck me, Joel.."

He groans at your words, body aching with desire as he goes to his knees in front of you, lifting the hem of your dress. He presses messy kisses along your thighs while his hands roam over your hips and ass, his breath hot against your skin as he approaches the spot he most wants to taste again.

"Been too long, darlin'," he murmurs as he pulls your lacy underwear down your legs. "Been too damn long since I had you like this."

You kick your panties off, hooking one leg over his shoulder as he dives in, tongue lapping at your sweet pussy like a thirsty man finally finding water.

He stays there, tongue dancing between your folds and then tickling your clit, tasting you so deeply that you cry out, head falling back, body arched towards him, fingers tangled in his hair. Joel feasts like a man starved, slurping you up, inhaling your scent that surrounds him. There's nothing about you that's changed. You're still so sensitive to his touch, responsive to his lips, tongue, and now fingers pressed deep inside, finding the spot that makes you scream while his lips purse around your throbbing clit.

He doesn't stop after you come. He feasts on you over and over again, making up for lost time, pleading for your forgiveness this way, literally on his knees until you scream his name, convulsing around his fingers, your honey collecting on his large digits. Only when you feel completely boneless does he remove them gently, licking up your syrupy taste.

Joel picks you up, your dress falling back in to place as he carries you bridal style up to his room.

All roads have led back to him. No matter where you went, no matter who you chose, Joel was always going to be there at the end of the path, your guiding light, even when you thought you hated him and when you thought he would never choose you again.

Even now, his body over yours, he's the missing piece of the puzzle. He teases you with his cock until you beg him to just put it in, to make you whole again. The glorious slide of his flesh into yours causes you both to gasp and your bodies still for a moment, taking in the significance of this act which you've done so many times before.

He's older now, but his vigor is not gone. He fucks you gently at first, then with impatience, as if he's afraid you'll dissolve like a dream in daylight. You'd know the feel of his cock among any other, the smooth outline and the ridges, the way he's molded his perfect shape into you, marked you years ago when you were a virgin, as if leaving his initials inside you. Mine.

You've never had a man to match him, never had someone so in sync with your body. He knows all your buttons, every dip and valley that his hand caresses. He's mapped out your skin like a cartographer, claiming the land in his own name.

You come almost too quickly the first time, before he flips you on top of him, gripping your hips as you ride him. "Love you," you moan as you come close to the edge again, heart and soul flying ahead of you into the bliss you've only really known with him.

Beneath you Joel's eyes go wide when you come, his hips lifting up into you, warmth spilling into your core.

"Babygirl," he whispers, a choked grunt as he turns pale, his skin clammy and sweaty when he loses consciousness.

As soon as Sarah and Ellie arrive at the hospital you hug them, overcome with worry for Joel's medical emergency.

"How is he?" Sarah asks, still in her wedding dress. Even in the emergency waiting room she's generating a lot of interested looks her way.

"They just took him in a few minutes ago," you tell her, secretly glad she wasn't there to see her dad in such shape. "I think it was a heart attack.."

"Oh my god," she puts her hand over her mouth and sits on the nearest chair, Ellie right next to her, comforting her.

"The party's winding down at the bar," Ellie explains. "Only a few people know-- Theo, Tommy, Maria.."

"We didn't want to worry anyone else," Sarah adds.

You look at her, heart aching. This is supposed to be her special day.. and if something happens to Joel--

Don't think like that.

The three of you sit down, drinking stale coffee from the machine down the hall. Soon Tommy joins you, Theo staying at the house to keep an eye on Finn.

The worst thoughts poke through your brain, teasing you and taunting you. But at last the doctor comes out, a guy even younger than yourself, green scrubs and white coat.

He talks with the family, letting them know the diagnosis. "It was a silent myocardial infarction, basically a mild heart attack," he explains it. "He's going to be fine and he's resting right now."

"A heart attack?" Tommy and Sarah exclaim together.

"At his age it's not uncommon.. he's fifty-six years old," the doctor checks the chart. "Now, we have him on some aspirin and beta-blockers. Tests show he doesn't have enough blockage to necessitate surgery, but he'll need blood pressure medication and to keep a healthier lifestyle."

"Can we see him?" you ask.

"Yes, two at a time, preferably. We want to keep him calm while we're monitoring him." He checks the chart again and looks at you. "You brought him in, correct, ma'am?"

"Yes.. why?"

"What was Mr. Miller doing before he exhibited symptoms of his coronary event?"

"Um.. what?" you pretend not to understand.

"What was he doing before he had his heart attack?"

"Mild heart attack," Tommy emphasizes.

"Well.." you race to think of what to tell him.

"I take it you were celebrating a wedding," the doctor says, seeing Sarah in her dress and the rest of you in tuxes and gowns and whispers a 'Congratulations' to her.

"Yes. Well, we danced.." you answer, and the doctor keeps his eyes on you as if he knows you're lying.

You go up to him, giving a subtle whisper. "We were.. intimate--"

"Sexual relations," he nods, writing it on the chart. "It's important for us to know what was a causing factor in his event. Now, two at a time can visit him."

Tommy and Sarah go first. He gives you a sly wink. "Y'all were fuckin'!" he teases, passing by. Sarah gives you an excited smile, to which you just purse your lips.

It's quiet but for the bag of Lays Ellie has opened, eating the chips slowly. "So you and Joel?"

You nod.

"But not just tonight.. a long time ago, right?"

There's an odd sensation in your stomach, as if the unspoken truth is fluttering around inside, beating its wings as it tries to find a way out. "I guess there's a lot I need to tell you. But only when you're ready."

Ellie seems to steel herself for whatever conversation is on the way, nodding at last, crumpling up the bag and tossing it in the bin. "Ready."

Seeing Joel in the hospital bed is a sobering visual. Years ago your age gap represented something illicit, scandalous. Now you're reminded that no matter what road you and he take from here, you will most likely outlive Joel Miller.

He's awake when you and Ellie go in. It's obvious he doesn't like being here, but in his current state is not fit to complain.

"Hey," you say softly, going to his side. "How are you feeling?" You caress his cheek with the back of your hand.

Joel's eyes close at your delicate touch, and when he opens them there's a warmth in them that can't be denied. "I've been better, babygirl," he says. "But I'm damn glad you're here."

He glances at Ellie, seated in a chair on his other side. "And how about you, kiddo? You okay?"

"Am I okay?" she says incredulously. "Dude, I'm not the one in a hospital bed." But her face clearly shows relief that Joel's all right. You also see her brain working over everything you've told her (well, the gist of it.. there are some things she doesn't need to know).

"I was so worried," you tell him, your voice soft and warm, all your feelings coming to the forefront. "I thought I was gonna lose you."

Tears appear in Joel's eyes, which he brushes away impatiently. "You ain't losin' me yet, baby. Not for a long time, not if you don't want to."

"Joel.." you whisper. "Do you really want to do this? After everything that's happened.. all the hurt we put each other through.. all the secrets.." you cast a glance at Ellie, who looks more reserved than you've ever seen her before. Sensing this is a moment you want to share alone, she gives a fleeting smile before she leaves, giving Joel a playful mock hit on his shoulder. Still smiling, Joel pats the space beside him in the bed and you snuggle in with him, his body warm.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Joel asks softly, eyes imploring you. "You're mine and I'm yours. That's how this thing of ours operates: you belong to me and I belong to you. Despite everything that's happened in the last twenty years, that's been the one constant." His hands grips yours, thumb running over your knuckles. "I don't care if I've got thirty years or thirty days left of my life. I wanna spend the rest of it with you, babygirl."

You search his eyes, seeing nothing there but the truth, laid bare and ready for you to either accept or deny.

He continues, "I don't wanna keep failin' you. I'm too much in love to let you go again." Then he gently lifts your chin, making sure you meet his eyes. "But only if you want me back."

Some would say you're on a precipice in the choice you're about to make, but it's not that difficult to choose. It's simply the separate paths you're on, converging at last. for good.

"You're the only one I've ever wanted," you whisper. It's not a fancy declaration of truth, a bit surprising coming from an English teacher, but it's the only thing Joel needs to hear before he pulls you close for another kiss.

Joel's released on Christmas Eve, and the two of you don't waste any time.

You and Joel are married in a small, intimate ceremony in the spacious living room of his home. Ellie, Sarah, Theo, Finn, Tommy, Maria, Sofia, Ruby, and even Bill and Frank are in attendance, watching as a judge from town and friend of the Millers officiates.

Joel promises you a nicer wedding when the frost thaws, anywhere you want in the world. You tell him you can't imagine a more perfect place to marry the most perfect man for you.

Your first wedding went by in a blur, but this time around you engrave it upon your heart, make note of every little skip of your heart when you and Joel hold hands, his delicate touch as he places a gorgeous sapphire ring on your hand, the sweetness of his lips when you share your first kiss as husband and wife.

After Christmas, Sarah and Theo leave for their honeymoon to Maui, and with the weather more agreeable the guests take leave too. Tommy sees to it that you and Joel have your house all to yourselves for your own honeymoon.

You insist on taking it easy with Joel, but he tells you he'd rather die while inside you, his name pouring from your lips the last thing he ever hears. He seems to get a second wind with you, making use of every possible flat surface in the house. You feel better about such activity when he takes his medication, promising to take it faithfully so long as you follow it with a kiss.

One morning after a particularly strenuous night, while drinking coffee in the kitchen and discussing your plans, Ellie returns, calling out to you before she enters.

"You're not doing anything gross in there, are you?"

"No," Joel laughs.

"Yes we are, we're working on making a sibling for you," you smirk over your coffee, glancing at Joel and giving a little shake of your head when his eyes go wide.

"Gross," she mutters, walking in. "Joel, Tommy says everyone's meeting at the Tipsy Bison for lunch later. But he couldn't get through to you on the phone." She makes a playful, pointed look, eyeing the two of you.

She's lukewarm to the idea of calling Joel 'Dad', and there's going to be some legal hoops to go through regarding Justin and his parental claim. But it all seems so small in comparison to the problems that plagued you before. You can get through anything because now you have each other.

You and Joel get ready as Ellie goes back to Tommy's, enjoying spending her time with Finn and getting ready to leave with them instead.

Unable to keep your hands off each other, it takes you twice as long to get dressed, hands going into each other's back pockets, lips finding each other's throats.

There's all the time in the world for it now.

Driving up to the Tipsy Bison, Joel turns on the radio. "Cherry, Cherry" starts to play, and you sing along with Neil Diamond, catching your husband's eye as he smiles and sings along too. The road before you is smooth, mountains standing guard in the distance, staying the same grand height no matter how far along you drive. Joel's hand finds yours, presses a kiss to it before entwining your fingers.

"Babe?"

"Yes, Mrs. Miller?"

You smile. "Let's not go right away. Let's drive around a little, play this song again, just soak in this moment."

"Of course, babygirl. I don't want to share you with the others just yet anyway."

Neil continues on the radio: No, we won't tell a soul where we gone to Girl, we do whatever we want to Ah, I love the way that you do me Cherry, babe, you really get to me

It's come full circle, and it only took two decades to complete. You and Joel in his truck, your song playing, the sun shining through the hazy clouds. You could close your eyes and it'd be 2003 again.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

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