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glassrowboat · 6 months

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Daydream in a Nightmare

Authors note: I read a soulmate au where with dream sharing. Everytime you fall asleep you and your SM would meet in a world that would reflect your consciousness and who you were. So down below are the boys and what I think the places their dreams would depict.

Mondstadt

Diluc: The cathedral. His mom, back when she was alive, used to play during service and afterwards Diluc ran over greeting her with the biggest smile, asking her to play him one more song. She never failed to. Maybe that's why there's always a gentle melody playing whenever you see him as he rests his fingers over the same white tiles, simply trying to remember how to play.

Kaeya: The Dawn Winery. Or at least parts of it. Behind closed doors there's the scent of grass, of dirt, and the faintest smell of ash. He says it's simply the vineyard that in the real world would be right outside, but he knows well as he pulls your hand from the doorknob that it's ruins of a fallen nation haunting him right on the other side.

Albedo: Glass walls. A maze of mirrors and reflections. If you ever have stopped to bother to count between Albedo’s musings as he shares with you the secrets of the world, you'd notice that for some reason he always has more reflections in the walls around you than of your own figure. Like there's more of him than there is of you.

Venti: Old Mondstadt. Back before the revolution, back when there were people in the streets wishing their God weren't so unjust, but in his dreams that wall of spiraling wind is never there. A warped perception of a life he wished to have lived as he sits in your lap not as Venti the bard, but a wind sprite trying to bury into your clothes for warmth. Just don't call him pipsqueek or he'll try and bite your fingers. Playfully. You think.

Liyue

Zhongli: A place that no longer exists, one torn away by this world during the archon war. It's unlike him not to comment on a place, a trinket, an item, as you pick something up and fiddle with it, but this place he never goes into full detail on. However, he will tell you all about the artisanship of the table you two are sharing tea over.

Baizhu: His home back in Chenyu Vale, back before the illness hit his village, back before his parents passed away. Just a modest home that shows signs of being truly well lived in and loved. Mindlessly while you two talk he'll be cleaning the place, just the way he always does at the pharmacy. Though it does help give him something to fill the silence. It turns out he's a lot more used to Changsheng chiming in with comments than he thought. He just hopes you two get along when the time to meet in person finally comes about.

Ga ming: A festival. There's water kicking up at everyone's feet, up to everyones ankles as people with their face covered in all manner of masks walk you both by. Ga ming would pull you along from booth to booth, trying his best to win prizes despite the fact you both know they'll be gone by the time you wake.

Xiao: A Chinese pavilion in the sky. You walk among the clouds as you follow the path of the street, looking over the accents that seem somehow both rich in color and dull, muddied all at the same time. Something you've noticed from his dreams compared to yours, his always have a lingering black fog creeping in at the corner of your eyes. It makes you feel like someone else is in this world with you, like there's eyes waiting to do more than just watch.

Inazuma

Kazooha: A meadow. The wind passes you both by, stirring up pages of books you two sit reading in silence. You can't help but wonder if these are all books he's read before, especially the ones that wax poetry or something else. His thoughts, perhaps? Maybe Kazuha's very own writings? But that matters little as his head is resting on your shoulder as you try to catch words between the fluttering sheets of paper.

Itto: A kabuki play. It always ends up in you two hiding away in the back room where the performers would get ready before getting back out on stage for the next act. You would see the brightest of colors, richest of fabrics, and practiced movements so fine tuned that you can't understand why Itto is so focused on taking the makeup on the vanity in the back simply so he can paint your face with red marks just like his. To each their own you suppose, and who are you to complain when it means drawing hearts on his arm when Itto isn't paying attention?

Gorou: A tea house. It's a small place, simple, but certainly not lacking charm as Gorou pours you a cup. At first the fact you could actually taste the rich herbs on your tongue in this dreamscape threw you off, but now it's just another part of this odd reality. But saying that, the first time you spat out the drink he offered as soon as the bitter taste hit you. Apparently he never expected you to not already be used to green tea. The poor fella was apologizing for the rest of the night, ears laid flat on his head and tail tucked between his legs. It's okay though, you made it even by trying to give him dog treats. It was you having to beg for forgiveness then.

Thoma: It was different this time. No glowing blue flowers and a forest that you two would stroll through mindlessly while chatting for hours. No, this time Thoma was sitting on a wooden platform below a giant stone statue. Intriguing, yes, but mattered little compared to the rope burns around his wrist. He tried to tell you not to worry about it. That it was an accident. But that mattered little as your lips pressed to the red, irritated skin and he gave you a strained smile. You knew better than to ask about it more from there.

Ayato: It's ever changing. It's like he is constantly thinking of something whenever He falls asleep and it reflects in his dreams. Once it was a Japanese styled room the next it was some room in Fontaine's architecture. But it's always a bedroom. A place of relaxation as Ayato buries his head in your lap like it was a pillow. He'll whine about being overworked until you're tempted to pull on his hair just to make the man shut up for once, but last time you did that it led to the bed being used for a lot more than just rest. For now just pat his head and let him vent, the man needs it.

Sumeru

Kaveh: A sketch brought to life from his mothers blueprints. One he saw his mother sketching back when Kaveh was a boy and she would let him sit on her lap, let him comment on the drawings. She would always find some way to incorporate his addictions into the sketch. Nowadays he knows the building that was actually constructed in the end to be simpler, duller than the one his mother wanted, but in his dreams with you it stands tall and proud.

Al Haitham: An attic. It's dusty and it clearly had a hole in the roof that was covered over by some wooden planks and nails. A patch work job that needs to be fixed but if you ever take the time to bother with it while Al Haitham sits in an old rocking chair covered by a quilt reading the night away it will only be there the next dream cycle. It pisses you off. He pisses you off. All nonchalance and an apathetic look even as you plop yourself in his lap and take that book away. And what pisses you off even more? How he dares to call you needy as he holds you close. It's best to ignore the fact he started reading over your shoulder.

Tighnari: Pardis Dhyai. He'll sit on the walkway watching you kick the water of the ponds around, paying no mind to when you splash at him. Not anymore at least. He's learned quickly if he makes a snarky comment you'll give one back and it'll go on and on until somehow it ends in him getting dragged into the pond with you. Both dripping algae filled water as he wondered what gods made this numbskull his mate.

Cyno: Lambad's Tavern. Everytime he would come back from treks in the desert he would go there, get a drink, and play a round of cards with whoever was willing. It was a pattern. Work, work, rest, and more work. But now he didn't have to constantly be on work mode as he sat with you in the old booth shuffling cards as he tried to explain to you how TCG works. So far everytime you lose you've thrown those elemental dice and him, and with a smile he lets them hit him in the head despite being fully able to dodge them. His soulmate is such a sore loser.

Wanderer: Shakkei Pavilion. He hates it. Hates that this is the place his unconscious has chosen to sink onto so stubbornly. His wooden fingers would slide over the paintings depicting Scaramouche’s past that has now been severed from him in everyone's eyes but Nahida and the Traveler. If you knew, would you still hold his hand? Would you still trace the details of his joints and comment that you find his pretty face such a stark contrast to his sharp words? He's afraid to find out, the idea that you might be his fourth betrayal always lingering in the back of his mind.

Fontaine

Neuvillette: Under the water where the currents would carry stray bits of seaweed and fish swimming past. The first time you shared a dream with him here he had to calm you down as instinctively you held your breath, taking your hands in his and assuring you if he can talk like this, you can suck in air just as well. It took some time getting used to, but now he watches as you grab starfish off the ocean floor and bring them over to him like a prize to be presented. This is what humans must be like Neuvillette tells himself as you braid them into his hair.

Worcestershire sauce: A home. A nice one at that. Big, had decent furnishings, pictures of kids hung up on the wall. If you listened closely enough you could even hear children playing outside from the cracked open windows that showed the brightest sky outside. Wriothesly would walk behind you as you would watch the grass blowing in the wind, not saying a word as he rested his chin on top of your head. He never thought he'd be back here again. The very place made him feel sick to his stomach, but with you? It was bearable. Even as you tried to grab his handcuffs from him.

Snezhnaya

Childe: His childhood home. Back before the renovations he bought for the place with his money as a harbinger, back before the redecorating of rooms to fit more children, and back to what the house was like when he was just a boy yet to fall into the abyss. Back when everything was simpler. He would pick up toys that have gone missing, never to be seen again and stare in wonder how it all is exactly how he remembers it. It makes it so much easier to be Ajax with you, rather than Tartaglia.

Dottore: The hospital he was working in when trying to help Eleazar patients. For the life of him does he hate it, being back in the desert always having to tip his shoes out of sand that never seems to fully clear off. It doesn't help you try and pour sand down his shirt, but in a way he supposes it's better you two stay out here under that blistering sun than you going inside to be met with the smell of death. No, you don't need to know about that side of him just yet.

Pantalone: His office. It always makes it hard to tell at first if he's awake, not when the same scene greets him either way. You always joke about him being married to his work and you're the mistress in this relationship. At this point he counts on the comment as soon as his eyes flutter open and he's greeted with the sight of you sitting on the desk he's been using as a pillow. Still, he can never help the genuine smile at seeing you once again.

Captain: A flower field. The snowdrops peek out from under the fluffy blanket of white powder, crunching under every step he takes. Even in his dreams the cold of Snezhnaya is ever present, ever biting. It only makes sense you are shivering behind him even as he lets you steal his cloak that is more of a blanket on you than anything. This field, he knows it well, knows that what waters these flowers is more blood than anything else, but that matters little as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe he can find a way to dream you a proper jacket.

Pierro: A grand hall. It reminds you of the way ballrooms are described in romance stories as the couple depicted would dance the night away. Columns so high you have to tilt your head back just to see where they meet the ceiling covered in paintings you've never seen before. That is until Pierro steps into your view. He always offered his hand to you before you could ask, and as your fingers interlocked he would tell you about them. Always ready to answer your questions. It meant someone was curious about a part of his long lost nation. So, of course, he was always happy to share.

Scaramouche: A never ending fire. It's a small shack, engulfed by flames that never seem to dwindle or burn out the wood it feeds on. Like this place was stuck in time in his mind. He doesn't talk to you, not any more than a sharp shut up. The only time that glare he showed you disappeared is when you pulled your hand back from the curious fire with a hiss, not expecting it to actually hurt in this fake reality. For a moment you could have sworn he took a step towards you, but he never came any closer than that as he hissed at you to be careful. Dumb mortals should at least know not to burn themselves.

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callmemickey · 1 year

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Keegan Russ is a provider and you’re lying to yourself if you even think otherwise 👏 if he could make it to where you didn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of your life, he 100% would. That being said, I hope you love to be on the receiving end of oral! I genuinely believe this man will deep dive right on in there, and would stay there until you’re shaking, crying, and begging him to stop (to which he probably won’t).

Keegan Russ can be chatty when it’s just you two, and especially - you know where this is going - in bed. He loves praising you, but in such a gentle way (he also praises you day-to-day but this is nsfw hehe). If you get all shy, he will eat it tf up. imagine hearing these in his deep, gravelly, purr of a voice: “you’re so perfect and I’m so lucky you’re mine” “fuck, you look so beautiful riding my cock like that” “you wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you?” “how could I say no when you asked so nicely?” “ahh, that’s my girl.” “I love how your pretty little mouth feels.” I could literally write Keegan talking for like 6947950 years mmkay

Keegan Russ loves it when you initiate and/or take charge, even if he ends up doing the work. Ride him, sit on his face, swipe his nose like a credit card, suck his cock, for the love of god anything. Even though he absolutely loves performing acts of service, the moment you hop into action? Weak! This man is weak! just tell him it’s because he’s been so amazing, that you just wanna do this for him if that’s alright 🥺 you missed him sm and you just wanna make your baby feel good 🥺 is slobbering on his cock too much to ask for 🥺 if you’re doing this, you got him whipped

Keegan Russ might wear the mask in bed upon asking. I don’t think he has an issue with anonymity and his identity. I would honestly wait for some time to pass before asking. I like to imagine he’s kind of… confused at first? He puts it on (even does the face paint), and you’re barking and purring. He’s just like “why do they like this?” but when he realizes JUST how bad you want him? GOD!!! It’s basically just roleplaying and he eats that shit up, mama - he gets into it and it’s like… distant, anonymous, and it feels dirty: “show me how much you want me.” “with your mouth, just like that. good.” “that’s Sergeant/sir to you.” “that’s right, on your knees.” “oooh, look at you.” “did I say you could cum?” “louder.”

Keegan Russ has the sexiest morning voice in the world. The way he wakes up (shirtless, he’s usually shirtless), sighs, and rolls over to you. You know that half-spoon, half-on top moment? Yeah, THAT. you’re on your side and he’s kind of on top and pressed against you, kissing you on the neck as you feel his hands glide up the side of your thigh, his touch is so warm and gentle. “mornin’, sweetheart.” AAUUUGGggghhhhh and then you feel his morning wood pressed so hard against your ass- ok I can’t do this (not me scrambling to write morning sex with my husband keegs)

Keegan Russ is not a very rough or hardcore lover. Please don’t expect him to tie you up or do some crazy things cuz he probably won’t!! The most you’ll get with being “kinky” is him wearing the mask and praising you (kinda considered bdsm???), which, if you need anything more from him… can’t help ya there champ - besides, is he not enough??!?!? 🥺 don’t break his heart or i swear

Keegan Russ… I see him liking the spooning position a lot, or a variation where he fucks you from behind and cowgirl just please ride him. There’s something he finds soooooo erotic about leaning over your shoulder, saying things naughty things in your ear ahhh he knoooooows what his voice does to you, so he takes advantage of it anytime he can get! there was that time you two were making lunch on a weekend and he just bent you over the counter and it was just… “you’re so wet already - you been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” “you’re such a pleasure to use” “I’m so proud of you for taking my cock so well” “relax, baby, just hold on” “that’s it, just like that, ah, fuck” “you want me to make you cum again?” “there’s that happy little sigh”

Keegan Russ doesn’t put you in extreme sexual situations where you require extensive aftercare (or any if you’re down tbh), but he still makes sure your needs are taken care of!! wanna shower together? have a snack? oh! you’re out of water, he’ll grab you a glass! need him to snuggle you for a little bit? of course, he wouldn’t want to do anything else! Being with you and making sure you’re happy and taken care of???? His #1 priority 🙌

#ilu daddy #i just love him so much #keegan Russ #keegan p Russ #keegan X reader #keegan Russ X reader #keegan X you #keegan Russ X you #keegan p Russ smut #keegan Russ smut #cod ghosts #Keegan Russ headcanons #Keegan p Russ headcanons

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fiendishfables · 8 months

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hii i just saw ur request page and thought i'd give it a try! soo, can i please have an nsfw oneshot w/dom! lucifer x reader ? i've just been thirsting after him sm...

anyways can it be about like him going down on reader, or just being talented with his fingers, cus we know what he can do with em 🫣

thanks so much!!

a/n: ahh, yes, thank you so much, my lovely, for sending in this request! This is my first attempt at responding to a request, so I hope its to your liking and doesn't disappoint. We love Luci!

warnings: nsfw, sex, cursing, use of pet names, first time as a couple, Luci being a complete dork

word count: 1.2k+

characters: 6646

notes: This is my first fic on here, as well as my first attempt at writing smut, so I apologize if its not any good. But nevertheless, enjoy!

Dom! Lucifer Morningstar x GN! Reader

Oneshot

Going down on you was something Lucifer had wanted to do the day he first laid eyes on you.

Don't get him wrong, he was a gentleman at heart and would continue to be until the day someone replaced him as King (which you both knew would never happen), but by the fiery skies of Hell- he wanted you. You. No other soul.

Lucifer had met you through Charlie, his own daughter and Princess of Hell. Your kindness had lead you to offer your services with helping his daughter with her whole idea of a rehabilitation hotel, meant for the sinners who wanted a second chance at life; wanting to fix their mistakes and be evolved into a better version of themselves. He had met you there when she had invited him to visit and see her progress. Its safe to say you two hit it off perfectly fine.

Now, exactly how you two hit it off doesn't really matter- all that mattered to you right now was the fact that his cock was buried so deep inside of you, that you could barley form a coherent sentence, let alone a singular word.

The room was dark, making the moonlight that filtered through the curtains the only source of light; the only thing that allowed for you to see the beautiful fallen angel hovering over you, both of your bodies sweaty and hearts pounding rapidly against your ribcages, as if trying to silently connect with one another through rapid pumps of blood. To express your emotions to one another through anything other than what he was doing now, which was stuffing you to the brim with his cock.

When you first saw it, staying quiet had become a big concern to you in your mind, what with the other residents of the hotel potentially being able to hear you both.

But that fear had quickly flown the coop as soon as he entered you for the first time.

Fuck, it was absolute heaven.

You were convinced that somehow, Lucifer had managed to descend the heavens down upon you in that exact moment; your most intimate moment. That any second, angels would be surrounding the pair of you and begin serenading you with a specific love song just for the two of you, or pointing angelic spears at your throats. Now, that thought did cause some momentary fear to shoot through your body, because the last thing you wanted was for some random angels (especially if they were exorcists, or Adam) to randomly appear in the room, just to be greeted with the sight of you, a moaning mess underneath Lucifer, drunk off of his length as it stretched you so wide you were afraid he might break you. But when you opened your eyes after the so slow, yet so delicious insertion of his cock...the room was still pitch black. No holy light. No angles. No song. Just you and him. You and Lucifer.

And that was the way it was supposed to be. No other soul, no matter angelic or demonic, could compete with what you two had. It was special; a connection that had to reach from the deepest pits of Hell, to the brightest place in all of Heaven.

For being one of the most powerful beings, Lucifer was being very careful with you; his fingers gripped your sides and hips, holding you in place securely as he rutted into you. Those fingers were sure to leave marks tomorrow. Neither of you minded.

"Oh...you're the best choice I've ever made, lovely- fuck..~"

Lucifers words only helped to fuel the fire that burned within your heart; the fire that represented your eternal, undying love for him. The tightening in your abdomen became much more noticeable too, coiling and constricting like a snake fighting to escape its confinements, or the talons of a predatory bird.

Except in this scenario, Lucifer was the bird, who held you oh so tightly in his sharp talons, and the last thing you wanted to do was escape. You'd allow him to devour you to his hearts content; until you passed out, fainted, or hell, till your heart stopped. He had you right where he wanted you and the smug little smirk on his lips whilst he turned you into this blabbering mess, was enough proof to show he knew it too. And he enjoyed it. Every. Single. Second.

His hands stayed perched seriously on your hips, as if you might just disappear if he so much as dared to loosen his hold. Not that you minded. You could hardly think straight.

"L-Luci..-"

Your attempt at saying his name fell flat, his next thrust replacing the messy words with a desperate moan from you, making your eyes roll back into your skull and a tremor of pleasure trailing its way through your body. He could reach places inside you that no one else had ever even dared to try. He was special in that way. Although he did lessen his movements after your butchered attempt at speaking. He looked genuinely worried and the sight did just enough to melt your heart.

"Are you alright, love? I didn't hurt you did I? Do you need anything? Do I need to stop? I can get you-"

He started to ramble, which he often did. His worst nightmare was hurting you; even just thinking about it made him shudder, as if he had just been doused with cold water.

But all it took was a weak smile from you and a kiss on his cheek to calm him and get him back in the movement again. You assured him that you were feeling the best you've ever felt in your entire life, both in living and in death, that all the pleasure you were feeling was making it hard for you to speak properly.

"I'm okay, Luci. You're just making me feel so many things-"

A finger then found its way onto your plush lips, slightly moisturized by your saliva having been produced by your fucked out state.

"Shhh, spare your breath, darling. I'm just glade you're holding up so well. Such a good beloved, you are."

Then: "You'll want it for when I make you scream."

Seeing you an absolute wreck because of him- because of his actions- his cock- it was almost better than the orgasm that ripped through him shortly after you came undone due to his words and continuation of his previous actions.

Ropes of his seed shot into you, stuffing you like you've never experienced before. His pale blonde hair stuck to his forehead, both your bodies damp with a light sheen of sweat. Your heavy breaths mixed together, as did the small chuckles that came from both of your lips. Thankfully, he kept his promise about making you scream.

Hell, meeting you had to have been the best thing to ever happen to him. To both of you.

No one would ever find themselves as to be so lucky, to know that the King of Hell found the taste of them the most enchanting out of all the souls both above and below.

Just try and doubt his love for you. He will be sure to give you a night that you won't ever forget, as many times as he needs to, until you're begging him to stop.

You are his, and he refuses to ever let you forget it.

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tteotlma · 16 days

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Blurred Lines & Bright Screens

— movie night shenanigans turn into almost-kisses.

(Wolverine/Reader) 2.3kw

a/n: i couldn’t find the right gif i was looking for — also i hope this makes sense ALSO i wanna write sm*t SO bad but all i can think abt rn is domestic/mutual pining/slow-burn HUGH JACKMAN

TW: mild sexual tension, implied violence, mentions of alcohol, snoring if u think it’s an ick.

Btw: i wrote this at work enjoy! also pls reblog so i can share my writing w more people !!!

"I'm so glad you finally agreed to watch this movie with me!" You exclaim, giddy as you set a giant bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Settling onto the plush velvet sofa, you rest your back against the armrest and pull your knees up, watching Logan trudge into the room.

"Well, it's only 'cause you kept buggin' me about it," he mumbles. Nonetheless, he plops his thick frame onto the sofa, the weight of his body causing your sock-covered feet to slide under his thigh.

You tense a little, giving him a quick glance before turning to the TV. He doesn't say anything, so you leave your feet under his warmth. Silence falls as you flip through the streaming apps.

"Um," you speak up, trying to cut the one-sided tension. You're pretty sure Logan is unfazed, but you want to be wrong. You mumble to yourself, filling the silence for your own comfort.

The room goes dark as the movie starts, and you try to settle in. Grabbing a giant blanket, you drape it over your legs, the fabric pooling where you touch Logan. You hope he might grab the blanket too, but he doesn't.

You scoff at the embarrassment creeping up your throat and try to focus on the movie. As you open your mouth to comment, Logan cuts you off.

"You don't gotta do that," he grumbles.

Sinking further into your seat, you bring your legs a little closer and grab the popcorn, attempting to pay attention to the screen. It works pretty well until you feel Logan shift beside you, and suddenly all you can think about is him.

You and Logan have been "friends" for about a year now, but have known each other for three. It took you two years to befriend the guy. Granted, your first year at the school was spent interning with Storm, and you were as timid as a mouse, always hiding behind her - especially when Logan came around.

It wasn't until the end of your first year that Storm felt confident enough in your abilities to loosen the lead. She began letting you go on missions with other people. At first, you avoided missions involving Logan; he was still too intense at times, and your self-confidence wasn't as strong as Storm's faith in you. But after a few big missions, you began to grow into yourself, and your confidence skyrocketed.

Missions evolved from involving handfuls of students and professors to solo projects as things got more serious. Then came one particular mission where Charles and the team felt it best that Logan accompany you. You protested right up until you left.

"Y/n," Charles stared at you intently as you stood by the door, Logan's footsteps thudding around the corner. "It's not that we think you aren't capable. We need your full focus on decoding the encrypted system."

"And I can-" You feel yourself getting fussy, as childish as it sounds. Scott grabs you by the shoulders, cutting you off mid-sentence, shocking you.

"Listen, Y/n," he sighs. "As much as you hate it, you're one of us now. The information you're going after is too valuable to risk doing it on your own. We need you to be one hundred percent focused on that, because once Sebastian Shaw realizes we're trying to get into his system, he will rain hellfire on whoever gets in his way. Logan is the only one who can be of service to you right now, so please." His voice softens as he begs. You see the worry sewn into his eyebrows and look at Charles, who is staring right back at you.

You sighed, just as Logan walked up behind Charles.

"Okay," you give a tight smile, and Scott taps his knuckle against your chin, trying to cheer you up. You let out an airy laugh and shove his hand away.

"You'll be fine," he tousles your hair before turning to look at Logan, who's staring intently at you both. Logan doesn't say anything and begins walking out the door.

"Professor," he grumbles as his figure fades into the dark of the night. Charles watches Logan walk off, then turns to you with a smirk on his face.

"Don't worry, everything will work out as it's supposed to." He gives you a wink, leaving you confused about his meaning.

"Uh, alright," you say, giving him a small nod as you head out following Logan.

After that mission, you and Logan became an oddly almost inseparable pair, which you deem as "friendship" even if he doesn't agree. Although you weren't glued to the hip, Logan was almost never far behind, and neither were you. Over the past couple of months, though, your relationship with Logan has evolved into something... complicated. There's an undeniable closeness between you, but it's hard to define. Sometimes, it feels like you're the little sister he never had - he's protective, gruff, and occasionally teases you mercilessly. Other times, there's a crackling tension in the air that makes you wonder if there's something more.

Like the time you were reaching for a book in the library, and Logan came up behind you to help. His chest brushed against your back as he grabbed it, and when you turned, you found yourself trapped between him and the bookshelf. For a moment, neither of you moved, your eyes locked, hearts racing. The air felt charged, and you could've sworn you saw something flicker in his eyes before he stepped back. You whispered a shy "thanks," avoiding eye contact by pretending to wipe dust off the book jacket. Logan straightened up, muttering "No problem, kid," as he walked away.

Or the time you were bantering in the garage while he worked on his bike. What started as playful teasing about him being demanding turned into something more when you challenged his ability to intimidate you anymore. He stood up slowly, moving close until you were almost nose to nose, growling softly, "Wanna bet?" The tension was palpable until Scott's voice broke the moment.

Then there's how you've fallen into these little routines without even realizing. Like how Logan always saves you a seat at briefings, or how you automatically grab two beers when heading to the kitchen after a long day. Or especially when, on every second and fourth Sunday morning of the month, both you and Logan have brunch (that's right) at this one diner that you insisted was to die for. It wasn't until Beast commented on your "domestic routine" that you both seemed to realize how couple-like you'd become.

And who could forget those late-night talks? Like the time you wandered into the kitchen at 2 AM, plagued by mission nightmares, only to find Logan there. What started as a few words of comfort turned into hours of conversation, sharing fears and hopes. As dawn broke, Logan squeezed your hand and said, "You're stronger than you think, kid." The look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

Moments like that leave you wondering if there's something more brewing between you and Logan, something beyond the boundaries of friendship or family. But neither of you has been brave enough to cross that line... yet.

You've tried to convince yourself it's nothing more than a close friendship, possibly a mentorship even. But there are moments - fleeting and intense - that make you question everything. You're stuck in this limbo, too afraid to push for more, yet unable to ignore the possibility that there might be something deeper brewing between you and Logan.

A guttural roar rips through the air, startling you out of your focus. Your head snaps towards Logan as another snore cuts through the silence. You don't know whether to laugh or look adoringly at the giant man sitting beside you.

He's sunken deeper into the sofa than when the movie first started. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his head lolls to the side, chin resting uncomfortably on his chest. His arms and head rise and fall with each breath, obviously so far gone at this point. You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck as you watch the usually stone-faced and stoic man sleeping beside you.

He's clad in comfortable clothes: black sweatpants, a zip-up hoodie, and his usual wifebeater clinging to his skin underneath. Your eyes focus on the bare skin that peeks out between the fabric of his sweater and the sleeve of the tank top. His hair is tousled and fluffier than usual, the air conditioning giving you occasional whiffs of peppermint and eucalyptus — his signature shampoo. The scent is never overwhelming, rather a subtle reminder of his presence.

You find yourself studying his face, softer now in sleep than you've ever seen it. The perpetual furrow between his brows has smoothed out, and his lips are slightly parted. Another snore rumbles through him, and you can't help but smile. It's rare to see Logan so unguarded, so... human.

A part of you wants to wake him, to tease him about falling asleep during your favorite movie. But a larger part revels in this moment of vulnerability, this glimpse of Logan that so few get to see. You wonder what he'd do if you gently brushed that stray lock of hair from his forehead, or if you repositioned yourself so you were closer.

The movie plays on, forgotten, as you lose yourself in contemplation of the man beside you. You're hyper-aware of every point where your bodies touch: your leg against his thigh, your arm brushing his as you shift slightly. The warmth of his body seems to seep into yours, and you find yourself leaning closer, drawn in by his presence even in sleep.

It's in quiet moments like these that the line between friendship and something more blurs dangerously. You know you should look away, should focus on the movie, but you can't bring yourself to break this spell. Instead, you allow yourself this stolen moment, committing every detail to memory, all the while wondering if Logan ever has moments like this about you.

All of a sudden, Logan jolts and his head falls back against the headrest, another loud snore coming from his mouth and physically shaking your chest.

Alright, that's enough.

You shift closer to him while grabbing the pillow from behind your back and swing it towards his face. He instinctively grabs your wrist before you can make contact and pulls you in closer. He opens his eyes, staring at you threateningly as if asking "what the hell do you think you're doing," but when he realizes it's you, his gaze softens.

"What," he says, his voice deep with sleep. He unconsciously pulls you closer so your chest barely brushes against his shoulder.

"Get up, you're snoring and I can't hear the movie," you quip, trying not to let your voice falter - as if being this close to him had no effect on you whatsoever. Not like you were paying attention anyway. Logan sighs, lowering your hand from his face but not letting go of your wrist. Instead, he continues to hold it in his hand as he rests it on his stomach. Your hand tenses against the warmth of his body and - god, you hope he didn't feel that.

"Then turn it up louder," he says, closing his eyes and trying to make himself comfortable once again. You don't move. Instead, you... maybe... lean in closer? Logan doesn't notice.

"What, so you can yell at me for waking you up?" You give him a little nudge with your leg. "I don't think so."

Logan's eyes remain closed, but his grip on your wrist loosens, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. The gentle touch sends shivers up your arm.

"You woke me up anyway," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that you feel more than hear.

You try to steady your breathing, very aware of how close you are. "Well, someone had to save you from choking on your own snores."

His lips quirk up in a half-smile. "My hero," he says dryly, finally opening his eyes to look at you.

The intensity of his gaze catches you off guard. There's something there, something beyond his usual gruffness. Your breath hitches as his eyes roam your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes again.

"Logan," you whisper, not sure what you're asking for.

He shifts slightly, turning his body towards you. Your knees dig deeper into his hip and thigh, and he still hasn't let go of your wrist. With his free hand, he reaches up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch.

"Yeah?" he responds, his voice rough and low.

The air between you feels charged, electric. You're hyper-aware of every point of contact between you - his hand on your face, his fingers around your wrist, your legs pressed together. Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure he can hear it.

Logan leans in, slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away. But you don't. You can't. You're frozen, caught between anticipation and disbelief. Is this really happening?

Just as his lips are about to brush yours, a loud explosion from the forgotten movie makes you both jump. The spell is broken. Logan pulls back, clearing his throat.

"We should, uh... finish the movie," he says, but he doesn't move away. His arm comes to rest on the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him.

You nod, not trusting your voice. As you settle back to watch the film, you're hyper-aware of Logan beside you. The almost-kiss hangs in the air between you, unspoken but impossible to ignore. Every now and then, you catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye, and you know that something has fundamentally shifted between you.

The movie plays on, but neither of you are really watching anymore. You're too busy wondering what might happen when the credits roll, and secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, you'll get another chance to finish what you started.

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

11:59 P.M. — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL࿐

summary. cheol offers you a striking incentive to help you turn in your assignments due at midnight.

wc. 2.1k

warnings. soft service top!cheol but also soft dom (?), so much praise, cockwarming, cheol w/ a BIG [redacted], dumb!fication, pet names [princess, baby, pretty, good/smart girl], unprotected s2x, creampie (yum), desk s2x <3 both of them are very desperate ><

note. happy belated birth 2 me ^^ to celebrate, i’m posting my first (100% self-indulged) cheol fic (it’s long overdue, i know.) reblogs are greatly appreciated mwah!! ily all sm <3 [ not proofread ]

“cheollie…” you whimper softly, eyes fluttering close. “please…”

seungcheol smiles, lips pressed to your ear. “did you finish, baby?” he asks with a voice barely above a whisper. when you shake your head, muttering out a soft ‘no,’ he simply hums. “how much more do you have?”

“i-i only have 150 more words to write,” you tell him breathily, hands tensing up as you think about how full you are of his cock. “but i can’t focus anymore… i dunno what else to say.”

“oh, maybe i should take you–”

you cut him off with a desperate cry before he can even suggest taking you off his cock. “no! no, don’t– but…maybe i should turn it in as is?”

“you’re doing so well, though, baby. i know you can do it, you’re my smart girl.” he coos. “plus, that wasn’t our agreement.”

right, you think. the stupid agreement.

seungcheol saw how much you were dreading your school work so, naturally, he offered to let you sit on his cock while you did your assignments. you both agreed– him more than you– that as soon as you turned in all of your work, he’d then treat you just the way you needed.

but now the only thing you can think about it is his stupidly big cock and his buff arms wrapped around you and the stream of arousal that pools at the base of his length. it’s almost overwhelming how he’s filled your senses.

“i know, cheol, but i’m tired– i wanna fuck.” you whine and he chuckles at the vulgar words.

“i’ll only fuck you if you finish your work, princess, you know that.” he reprimands. “c’mon, it’s 11:23, start typing.”

you groan, hands falling to your keyboard. you do your best to come up with 150 more comprehensible words and, for the most part, you’re doing well. you easily write two sentences of 53 words, but when cheol accidentally shifts under you, your hands freeze and you let out a soft whimper.

when you clamp tightly around him, the softest sigh slips his lips. “‘m sorry, baby, keep going.” he says, trying to control himself.

“you’re teasing me on purpose, cheol,” you whine, eyes fluttering close when you feel his cock twitch inside

“‘m not, promise.” he whispers, hot breath fanning against your neck. “just feel s’good, can’t wait to fuck you.”

you gasp, brain going haywire at the words. a soft moan slips your lips and a lightbulb goes off in cheol’s head.

he knows exactly how to get you to finish your work.

he smiles cheekily, “you want that, right, princess? you want me to fuck this pretty lil cunt full, yeah?” his voice is low as his lips trail up to the shell of your ear.

you huff. “fuck… yes– i want that.”

“i know, baby,” he murmurs against your ears. “just 97 more words ‘n i’ll let you turn off that big brain of yours and fuck you stupid– you can do that for me, can’t you?”

you shudder, nodding your head incessantly. you take a deep breath and let your eyes refocus on the screen at your desk. seungcheol proudly hums, chin resting on your shoulder as he watches you type.

it’s obvious you have no idea what you’re talking about. your trigger fingers clack against the keyboard as if your life depends on it, but your sentences are nearly incoherent. you forget your commas and apostrophes and proper capitalization, but he can’t find it in him to correct you. he knows how badly you need this and he also needs it just as bad.

when you type your last period and press submit without proofreading the work, you let out a cry of relief. it definitely wasn’t your best work– probably your fucking worst– but you’re nearing the end of the semester and you could truly care less about what your professor thinks of you. you let out a sigh, instantly grinding down and clamping around seungcheol’s cock as soon as you see the ‘submitted’ sign on your computer.

“so good,” he moans, hands guiding your hips. “my smart girl, you did so well, fuck.”

“oh my, god.” you whine desperately. “cheollie, y-you’ll fuck me right?”

“god, yes.”

unbeknownst to you, too caught up in your own desperation, seungcheol was needy. probably just as needy as you. you wrapped around him so nicely– you always fucking do– and it has been driving him up a wall for the past hour. he wanted, so badly, to buck his hips up to fuck into you, but he had to control himself. he had to let you finish your work before you could finish in the way you deserved.

but now, you’re done and he plans on ravishing you till the only thing can say is his name.

his hands grip your waist tight, halting your movements and ripping a loud whine from your throat.

“up.” he demands softly, pulling you off his cock.

you pant, “but cheol–”

“promise i’ll give you what you want, baby— told you i would— but not like this, yeah? let me take care of you.”

you nod dumbly, lifting up and whining in the process at the emptiness. seungcheol grunts, already missing the tightness of your pussy, but he quickly moves to spear you back on to him. he stands to his feet and pushes the chair back before roughly spinning you around and pressing his lips to yours. you melt in his calloused hands, your own flattening against his hard chest.

your mouth cracks open on a moan and cheol takes it as an opportunity to shove his tongue inside. your knees give out at the feeling of him invading your mouth and your fingers grab at the loose grey shirt on his body to keep from falling over. you fist tighter and tighter as the seconds pass, arousal leaking from your bare cunt.

he presses you against the desk, blindly sliding your laptop out of the way. when he groans into your mouth, you hoist yourself on to it with his assistance, sitting on the edge and spreading your legs for him to stand between.

panting, seungcheol parts from the kiss, “hold on to me, baby.” he says, words rushed and a bit whiny.

you eagerly nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning back so he can easily press into you. his breathing is shaky as he aligns his cock with your hungry, drooling hole and when he slowly pushes in, he lets a loud moan out– one louder than the whimper that escapes your lips– while huffing out a curse.

your head falls back and your eyes roll when you feel his cock fill you up again. even though he was inside you a mere three minutes ago, his girth is still so much to take. so much in a good way, of course. the burning stretch is one you miserably crave throughout the day.

“still so tight, fuck,” he sighs, basking you in. you look so fucking beautiful in his loose t-shirt alone and, even with the tiny dark circles under your eyes and your hair slightly disheveled, he still thinks you’re the prettiest thing in the world. his pretty fucking girl.

a choked sob dies in the back of your throat as he bottoms out. “ch-cheol.” you manage to get out, a pained expression falling over your face.

he shushes you softly, “just breathe, baby, you’re takin’ me so well, but you need to breathe.” he urges, words strained as he’s fighting the impulse to moan again. it’s nearly impossible, though, with how fucking amazing you feel.

you nod profusely and take a shuddered inhale followed by an even shakier exhale allowing your body to adjust to his intense size. when the pain finally subsides and you can nearly taste the pleasure on your tongue, you softly moan out his name.

he asks if you’re good and that raspy, deep voice fills your ears, sending shockwaves to your messy cunt. you clench again but ultimately tell him, “‘m okay– s’okay. y-you can keep going.”

he grunts at this, pulling his cock out– eliciting a whine from you– before gently pushing back in. he gives you a few experimental thrusts, listening to the way you moan for him prior to setting a steady speed.

“how’s this, princess?” he pants, large hands still roughly grabbing at your waist. “too fast?”

you shake your head, looking at him with teary, doe eyes. “faster? please?”

he moans, nodding his head. “tell me if it’s too much, okay? know you’re tired ‘n i just want you to feel good.” he reminds you sweetly, voice cracking as the tempo of his thrusts increase.

even if it was too much, you wouldn’t tell him. you love his cock– love the way he makes you feel– and you would spend days fucking him if you could. you nod anyway, though, giving him peace of mind.

the desk under you wobbles a bit with the rapid speed at which he fucks you, but it’s very obvious that the unsturdy object is the least of both of your worries. your mouth is hung open, moans and soft cries drooling out while cheol watches completely enamored of you.

it’s right when he gives you a sharp thrust, hitting the spongy spot in your pussy, that he sees your brain shut off. he sees the way your eyes glass over and hears how your pleads and cries have slurred. he’s already fucked you stupid.

“that’s it, pretty baby, don’t need to think anymore. so pretty ‘n smart. so fuckin’ perfect. just for me.” he moans breathily, grip on your body somehow tightening. he’ll have to remember to apologize and dote on you a little more when you wake up with bruises in the morning. “oh, shit— you’re doin’ so well, baby. always so good f’me.”

his cock stirs you up and it’s hard to stop your orgasm from brewing in the pit of your tummy. “cheol!” you gasp, tightly wrapping your legs around him. you pull him closer to you and he feels like he might let go too soon if you don’t ease up on him.

“‘m here, right here. all yours, baby.” he promises. “gonna let go for me? make a pretty lil mess all over me, huh?”

you nod, tears of pleasure soaking your lash line and getting ready to spill down your face. “uh-huh! ‘m so close.”

you just need a little bit more and you’ll surely soak him in your cum. luckily, seungcheol knows exactly what you need.

“rub your clit,” he tells you, a loud grunt following his words at the thought. “rub your clit and cum all over my cock, princess.”

a broken moan slips out and you nod weakly. one of your arms leaves his neck and snakes in between your bodies. your nimble fingers find the puffy, untouched bud, rubbing uncoordinated circles into it.

seungcheol finds the sight so alluring and when you clamp around him, his eyes nearly roll. he can’t stop the way his hips pick up in speed as his own brain turns to mush. your jaw goes slack and your eyes squeeze shut at the onslaught of pleasure. you don’t even get the chance to warn him when he gives you another sharp thrust and the tight coil in your tummy suddenly unravels.

your cries die on the tip of your tongue as you release with an inaudible squeal, body jerking under his. tears begin to fall, painting your heated cheeks as you’re overwhelmed by the immense gratification.

“that’s a good girl,” he groans, feeling how you trap him in between your tight, gummy walls. “fuck, fuck, fuck– you feel so good.” he tells you, eyebrows knit together as he wears the sexiest face of pleasure.

you sob as he fucks you through your orgasm, body slumping in exhaustion. “cheollie,” you mewl, still trembling on top of the desk.

“i know, baby, ‘m gonna cum… w-where–”

you cut him off, “inside.”

he grunts a curse, “shit– gonna fill you up, gonna give it to you, princess,” he babbles, thrust growing sloppy. “take it all for me.”

it happens before you can reply. his hips flush against yours, cock stilling before he empties his load into your cunt. he whines softly, mumbling out more words of praise.

he stays nestled inside of your cunt, holding your body up with his hands while he peppers kisses all over your face.

“did that feel good?” he whispers, unable to trust his wavering voice.

“so so good,” you sigh. “thank you, cheollie.”

he smiles, humming, “you deserved it, princess.”

taglist 🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou @5xiang @ttyunz @lunaofthelake @girls4cheol @miriamxsworld @enhacolor

#seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

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oceandolores · 2 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 4

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘴,"

summary: life has been perfect, just you and him, but the shadows of both of you and Joel's past has been haunting you again...

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 4

masterlist of the series

previous | chapter 3

next | chapter 5

The sun seemed to shine a bit brighter these days, casting a warm glow over your life since Joel had become more involved in it. His presence brought a newfound sense of safety and comfort, not just for you but for him as well. Joel, once a cold and distant figure, began to soften, melting into a warmer, more open person whenever you were around. It was as if the world belonged to just the two of you, and the bond you shared illuminated both your lives in profound ways.

Joel was now a regular at church, attending Sunday services and every fellowship event with renewed purpose. His participation didn't go unnoticed, especially by Tommy, Ellie, and Maria, who observed the positive changes in him. Joel still remained a man of few words, guarded and cautious, but your presence had undeniably brought a light into his life, guiding him out of the shadows.

For you, Joel became the protector you desperately needed. Whenever your father’s temper flared, you could escape to Joel, finding solace in his arms. He calmed your storms, just as you eased his burdens, becoming each other's anchor. You often sneaked out together to the lake or climbed into the back of Joel’s truck to gaze at the stars. Those moments felt like the world stood still, with only the two of you and the infinite sky. Joel found himself no longer lost in the darkness; instead, he had found his light in you.

However, you both had to maintain a facade, keeping your relationship discreet to avoid the prying eyes of the community. Sneaking out, lying to your father about being at a friend's house, and stolen moments of intimacy became part of your routine. While you hadn't taken your relationship to a sexual level due to your trauma from Jamie, the nights spent cuddling, kissing, and talking were enough for Joel. Though he sometimes felt the stirrings of desire, he respected your boundaries, focusing instead on the depth of your connection.

Joel sometimes took you out of town, exploring Austin or Houston. You visited night markets, played in arcades, and strolled through bustling streets. Joel despised arcades, but the sound of your laughter and the sight of your carefree smile made every annoying game worthwhile. Every time you smiled, it was as if a sunbeam pierced through the clouds in Joel's heart, warming a place he had thought forever cold.

"Got another project comin' up," Joel said one evening as you sat together in his truck, overlooking the hills. "A big one. Tommy thinks it's too much work for the crew we got, but I reckon we can handle it."

"Tell me more about it," you prompted, even though construction details often went over your head. You loved hearing Joel talk about his work; the passion in his voice made you feel closer to him.

"It's an office building downtown. Gonna be a challenge because we gotta keep the old facade. Means a lotta careful demolition, precision work. Gotta bring in some new folks, too, ones who know their way around older structures."

You nodded, trying to visualize it. "Sounds complicated."

"It is," he admitted, a touch of pride in his voice. "But we got a good team. Tommy's been talkin' to some contractors. We need people who can do the job right, you know? Can’t afford any mistakes."

"I believe you can do it," you said earnestly. "You’re amazing at what you do."

He chuckled softly. "You’re sweet." Joel's hand reached up, his rough fingers gently caressing your chin. His touch was like a warm breeze on a chilly evening, comforting and electrifying at the same time. Joel’s gaze held yours, his brown eyes deep and intense, like molten chocolate, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher but felt deeply within your soul.

Every touch, every look from him, made you melt. It was as if you were a snowflake landing on a sun-warmed pavement, vanishing into a pool of warmth under the intensity of his presence. You giggled, the sound light and musical, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel shook his head slowly, his smile spreading across his face, tender and genuine. "Nothin', darlin'," he said, his voice calm, gentle, and sincere.

Joel couldn’t fully grasp his feelings, but being with you made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years. He knew this might be wrong, but it felt so good, like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds, casting colors on a world that had been grey for too long. Ever since Sarah and his wife had passed, his life had been a landscape painted in shades of grief and loss. Ellie had brought back some light, but what he felt with you was different, something more vivid, more profound.

His world had been a desolate canvas, splashed with only the darkest hues. But you were the burst of color, the brush of a vibrant dawn, illuminating the shadows that had consumed him. You were his beacon, guiding him from the darkness, painting his existence with the brightest of shades. And though it scared him, it also filled him with a warmth and a hope he hadn’t dared to feel in a long time.

***

After school, you found yourself in the familiar warmth of the kitchen, the comforting scent of vanilla and sugar filling the air. Your mother, in her element, was bustling around, gathering ingredients for a cake and cookies.

"Can you grab the eggs from the fridge, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, reaching into the refrigerator. As you handed her the carton, her hand brushed against your back, right where the still-healing bruises were. You flinched, unable to hide the sharp intake of breath.

Your mother's eyes widened, guilt flashing across her face. "I'm so sorry. Does..does it still...um hurt?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. "No, Mama, it's okay. It's getting better."

She hesitated, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of worry and sorrow. "I know I haven't... I haven't done enough to protect you," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for that. I'm just... I’m so afraid of your father."

You placed a hand on her arm, trying to offer some comfort. "Mama, it's alright. I understand. Let's just focus on the baking, okay?"

Your mother nodded, her relief palpable. She turned back to the counter, trying to regain her composure. "So, have you noticed how Joel’s been coming to church more often lately?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of Joel, careful to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, I noticed."

Your mother smiled, though it was tinged with curiosity. "You know, he’s changed a lot over the years. He used to be so different when Sarah and his wife were alive."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity. You knew bits and pieces about Joel’s past but had never heard the full story. "What was he like back then?"

"Joel was a wonderful father and husband. He adored Sarah and Jane," your mother said, her eyes softening with nostalgia. "Jane and I were good friends. They were high school sweethearts, you know. Joel got Jane pregnant in high school, and they got married right after graduation. He worked so hard to provide for them."

You listened intently as your mother spoke, the rhythm of her words blending with the sounds of baking—mixing bowls clinking, the oven humming softly. Joel had never brought up his past daughter and wife when he was with you. It was as if a part of his heart was still locked away, guarded against the pain of revisiting those memories. You felt a mixture of sadness and curiosity, wishing he would open up to you but understanding his need to protect himself from that pain.

As your mother continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Joel’s heart was still closed off, like a house with the windows shuttered, sunlight struggling to seep through the cracks. "After they died, Joel was never the same," your mother said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her memories. "He isolated himself, barely spoke to anyone. He stopped coming to church, buried himself in work and alcohol. It was like the light went out of him."

You continued to bake, your hands moving automatically as you processed your mother's words. The more you learned, the more you understood the layers of grief and resilience that made up the man you had come to care for so deeply.

"Did you know his wife well?" you asked, curious about the woman who had once been such a significant part of Joel’s life. You felt a twinge of jealousy, knowing that Joel had once opened his heart fully to another woman, something he hadn't done with you yet.

Your mother nodded, her smile tinged with sadness. "Yes, she was one of my closest friends. Jane was kind and loving, always had a smile on her face. They were perfect together. Losing her was a blow Joel never really recovered from."

You felt a pang in your chest, imagining the life Joel had once had—a life filled with love and happiness that was abruptly shattered. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, understanding the depth of his loss and the strength it took for him to keep going.

Your mind swirling with thoughts. Joel had been through so much, yet he found the strength to care for Ellie and, in his own way, for you. He was like a fortress, strong and unyielding, yet vulnerable to the storms that battered him.

Your mother’s voice brought you back to the present. "Since he adopted Ellie, he's shown glimpses of the old Joel. But he still struggles. He’s still grumpy and distant. It was as if he built a wall around himself, shutting out the world to avoid more pain."

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for Joel. He had been through so much, yet he found a way to care for you and Ellie. "And now he's starting to come back to church," your mother said softly.

"It's good to see him more involved again. He deserves some happiness."

You smiled, though your heart was heavy with the knowledge of what you shared with Joel. "Yeah, he does," you agreed, hoping that somehow, against all odds, you could both find the happiness you deserved.

Your mom glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "I wonder what’s changed in him," she mused. "Maybe he’s finally opening up his heart for another woman."

Your body tensed at her words. She continued, "Ever since he became a widower, there have been plenty of women interested in him. It’s a small town, you know. Everyone knows everything. But he's always been so... cold and distant. Joel is handsome, successful, and a gentleman. Don't tell your father I said that." She chuckled, and you just smile to her.

Inside, you couldn't help but agree. Joel was indeed handsome and a gentleman, so different from your father. Your father, who should have been the epitome of kindness and morality as a preacher, was anything but. His exterior was polished and righteous, but inside, he was rotten. Joel, on the other hand, seemed rough on the outside but was truly good at heart.

Your mother sighed, "It’s good for Joel, though. It’s about time he moved on and built a new life. Maybe he’ll find a nice woman his age, someone who can be a good mother to Ellie. Adam needs his Eve, after all."

Her words made you uncomfortable, a knot forming in your stomach. You couldn’t bear the thought of Joel with someone else. The jealousy gnawed at you, knowing your mother would lose her mind if she ever discovered you were the reason for Joel’s recent change. You also felt a pang of insecurity, realizing how much older Joel was, how he could practically be your father. There were so many women in town who were more age-appropriate for him, attractive and mature, whereas you felt small and insignificant in comparison.

You focused on mixing the batter, trying to push away the uncomfortable thoughts. "Yeah, maybe," you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.

Your mother didn't seem to notice your discomfort. She continued to chatter about the town gossip, but your mind was elsewhere. You wondered if Joel ever thought about these things—marry a nice woman and built a new life? You knew he cared for you, but could he see a future with you, or was this just a fleeting moment in his life?

As you finished the cake and placed it in the oven, you couldn't shake off the thoughts swirling in your head. Joel was a beacon of light in your life, but the future felt uncertain. You wished you could ask him, but the fear of his answer kept you silent.

The cookies were done baking, and your mother placed them in two jars. "Take these over to Joel’s house and then to Tommy's," she said, handing you the jars and placing them in a sturdy tote bag to make it easier to carry on your bike.

You nodded, appreciating the excuse to see Joel. As you rode your bike through the familiar streets, the wind swept across your face, carrying the sweet scent of summer and the promise of evening. The sky was a canvas of blue and orange, painting a picturesque scene straight out of a movie. You loved this town—the southern charm, the way everyone knew each other—but part of you hated it, longed to escape its confines and the shadows that lurked within your home.

Arriving at Joel’s house, one of the bigger ones in the neighborhood, you parked your bike in the driveway and grabbed one of the cookie jars. Knocking on the door, as you always did instead of using the bell, you expected Ellie to answer since Joel’s truck wasn’t in the driveway.

The door opened, and instead of Ellie, it was Joel standing there. His face softened the moment he saw you.

"Hey, Mr. Miller," you said, deliberately using his formal title to tease him a bit.

Joel chuckled, his eyes warm. "Hey, doll."

You lifted the jar slightly. "Mom sent some cookies. She thought you might like them."

Joel took the jar from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. "Oh, that's nice of her, well, do want to come in?"

"Maybe for a little," You followed him inside, the familiar coziness of his home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Joel set the jar on the kitchen counter and turned to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing your unease.

You smiled, trying to brush off your worries. "Yeah, just... thinking about stuff."

Joel stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your chin. His touch was rough but tender, sending shivers down your spine. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You nodded, looking up into his eyes. They were deep pools of warmth and safety, and every time you looked into them, you felt like you could melt. "I know," you whispered.

For a moment, you just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. Joel’s eyes held something you couldn’t quite decipher, a mix of emotions that made your heart race. You giggled nervously, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, feeling self-conscious.

Joel shook his head slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Nothin'."

You giggled again. "You have to stop looking at me like that."

Joel raised an eyebrow, still smiling. He's leaning in to kiss you, "Like what?"

You blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Before Joel could kiss you, you both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, you stepped away from each other.

"Oh, hey, I thought I heard someone knocking," Ellie said, entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Ellie," you greeted her. "My mom and I made some cookies, and she sent you some. I thought I’d drop by for a bit."

Ellie grinned and walked over to you and Joel. She glanced at Joel, noticing his slightly flushed face, and raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Joel?"

Joel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, just, uh, a bit of dust or somethin'."

Ellie opened the jar and took a cookie. "These are great. Thanks!" She turned to you. Joel took a cookie as well, taking a bite and nodding in approval.

"You made this?" Joel asked, looking impressed.

You blushed a little. "Well, I just helping my mom."

"I take that as a yes and this is good," Joel said, his eyes warm.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth from his compliment.

Ellie turned her attention to you. "So, how’s school? I haven’t seen you much lately."

You shrugged. "Just busy with a lot of things."

Ellie nodded. "I heard you’re in charge of the church dance troupe for the event next week."

"Yeah," you said, smiling.

Ellie smirked playfully. "And I heard Pastor Ben picked you as soon as he saw you. I think he likes you."

Joel’s expression changed, his jaw tightening slightly. "Who's Ben?"

Ellie glanced at Joel, oblivious to his jealousy. "Pastor Ben is the new young pastor who’s going to be taking over while Father Gibson is away for a couple of weeks."

"Yeah," you added. "He’s just helping out while my dad is on a trip to New Orleans for the church."

Ellie nodded enthusiastically. "He's super popular with the girls at school. They all think he’s really handsome."

You laughed lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. "He’s just being friendly, Ellie."

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he forced a casual tone. "How old is he?"

"Not sure," Ellie said, shrugging. "Maybe late twenties?"

"Oh," he said.

Joel's face remained impassive, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his emotions. He didn’t want to show too much, to let on how much it bothered him that someone else might have an eye on you. After all, anyone would notice your beauty—your presence was like a beacon, drawing people in with your pure, radiant light. Men and boys alike found themselves captivated by you, your allure almost heavenly. Joel, despite not being religious, found himself silently praying that he could keep you to himself.

He knew that your beauty wasn’t just skin-deep. There was something about you that felt untouched, ethereal—a stark contrast to the gritty world he had come to know. You were his salvation, a glimpse of purity and hope in his otherwise dark and turbulent life.

Ellie changed the subject, sensing the awkwardness. "Anyway, are you excited about leading the dance troupe?"

"Yeah, it should be fun," you replied, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s a lot of work, but I think it’ll be worth it."

"Maybe you want to join, Ellie?" you said teasing her, "Oh hell nah," Ellie answered making a disgusting face, you chuckled.

Joel remained quiet, his eyes flicking between you and Ellie. You could tell he was still processing the idea of Pastor Ben, but he seemed to be trying to push it aside.

"Well, thanks for the cookies," Ellie said, taking another bite. "They’re delicious."

"Glad you like them," you said with a smile. "I should probably get going. I need to drop the other jar off at Tommy’s."

Joel’s expression softened as he looked at you. "Let me walk you out," he said. As Ellie remained engrossed in the cookies, Joel gently took your hand, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"When is your father leaving for New Orleans?" Joel asked in a low voice as he guided you towards the door.

"Tonight, around eight," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Joel’s eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Can you sneak out tonight?" he whispered, his hand lightly caressing yours.

You smirked and nodded, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

Joel’s eyes darted around, ensuring no one was watching. "I’ll pick you up behind your house at nine," he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and caution. His rough hand felt like a contrast to your soft skin, a stark reminder of the different worlds you both came from, yet a perfect match in this moment.

You felt a flutter in your chest, a combination of anticipation and desire. His touch was electric, sending a rush of warmth through your veins. You wanted to hold onto this feeling, the thrill of the forbidden, the secret moments that were just for the two of you.

Joel leaned in and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to your cheek, ensuring no one was watching. You felt your heart race, the sensation of his lips lingering on your skin.

"I’ll see you later," he murmured, stepping back slightly. "Take care."

You nodded, trying to contain your excitement. "You too," you said softly, your voice tinged with the happiness you felt inside.

The whole way to Tommy’s house, you couldn’t stop blushing. Riding your bike, you felt the wind rush past you, the world around you vibrant and alive. The sky was a brilliant canvas of blue and orange, the southern landscape unfolding like a scene straight out of a movie. Each pedal felt lighter, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a sense of freedom and exhilaration.

Reaching Tommy’s house, you parked your bike and grabbed the jar of cookies. Knocking on the door, you took a deep breath, the smile on your face unshakeable. Tonight held the promise of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see Joel again.

The house was a quiet, still tableau of ordinary life, its corners cast in the muted hues of nightfall. Your mother’s soft, tired footsteps echoed as she busied herself with the last-minute preparations for your father’s departure. From your vantage point in the dimly lit room, you could hear the rumble of his stern, authoritative voice as he issued his final instructions for his absence.

“Behave yourself, Evelyn. Take care of your duties.” your father’s voice cut through the air like a blade to your mother, “Make sure the house is in order," He said to your mother.

Your mother then called you from downstairs. “Come say goodbye to your father before he leaves.”

You descended the stairs with a heavy heart, each step a reluctant march towards the formality of your father's departure. His figure loomed large in the dimly lit foyer, his stern face illuminated by the flickering light from the chandelier above. The space around him seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence, a constant reminder of his authority and control.

Your father, already dressed in his traveling attire, turned to face you as you approached. His expression was as impassive as ever, his eyes scanning you with a critical gaze that never quite softened. “I expect you to behave while I’m away. Keep things in order, take care of your house duties with your mother and don’t let any mischief slip through. Pastor Ben will be in charge for the next two weeks."

You offered a formal, almost mechanical embrace, your body stiff as you pressed against him. The touch was brief, a quick and emotionless exchange that spoke more of obligation than affection. His words felt like a final checklist, a list of expectations that you had long learned to adhere to.

With a nod, you managed a polite, “Yes, daddy."

As he turned to leave, he gave one last instruction, his voice trailing off as he stepped toward the door. “Remember, be a good Christian girl. Stay close to God. Make sure you’re not a burden to your mother.”

After he had gone, your mother’s weary voice called from the kitchen. “Sweetheart, would you like something to eat? There are leftovers in the fridge. I’m quite tired and I think I'm gonna go to bed early,”

You shook your head, feigning a lack of appetite. “No, I’m full, Mama. I’ll just head to bed.”

“Alright, dear,” she replied, her tone soft but tinged with fatigue. “Don’t forget to pray before you sleep.”

You watched her retreat to her room, her movements slow and burdened. The house felt emptier as she disappeared from view, and you knew it was time to execute your carefully laid plan.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of bed and crept to your window. The night was still and serene, the air cool against your skin as you pushed the window open. The backyard, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, felt like a secret world just waiting to be explored.

You carefully climbed out of the window, landing softly on the grass below. The night sky was a canvas of stars, each one a twinkling reminder of the possibilities that lay beyond the confines of your everyday life. The cool breeze ruffled your hair, carrying with it the scents of the garden—jasmine, freshly cut grass, and the distant promise of freedom.

In the darkness, Joel’s truck waited, a silent sentinel against the backdrop of the night. The vehicle was cloaked in shadows, its lights off to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Your heart raced with anticipation as you approached, the thrill of the forbidden making your steps lighter and faster.

Sliding into the truck, you were greeted by Joel’s familiar presence. His face, partially illuminated by the dim interior light, softened as he saw you. A warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement that you felt.

Before you could say a word, Joel’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. It was a moment of pure, unrestrained connection, the outside world falling away as the heat of his touch enveloped you. The kiss was fervent, a melding of stolen desires and whispered promises, each touch a testament to the intimacy you shared.

Joel’s hands were rough and warm, their contrast to your soft skin sending a shiver through your body. As he pulled away, his eyes held a deep, unspoken affection that spoke louder than any words could. “Hey there, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm in the quiet cabin.

The truck’s engine roared to life, a low, rumbling purr that vibrated through the seats. The world outside seemed to blur as Joel drove through the empty streets, the city lights casting fleeting golden streaks across the windshield. Each streetlamp was a beacon in the darkness, guiding you through a night that felt like a dream.

With every mile that passed, the weight of your ordinary life lifted, replaced by the vivid colors of this stolen moment. The night sky above was a tapestry of dreams and possibilities, a perfect backdrop for the intimate adventure you were embarking upon.

The truck rolled to a gentle stop at the top of a secluded hill, its path winding through the darkened landscape like a secret road leading to a hidden sanctuary. The night sky stretched out above, an endless canvas dotted with twinkling stars, their cold light a delicate contrast to the warm cocoon of the truck's interior. Joel’s touch was a constant comfort, the warmth of his hand against yours a promise of the intimacy you shared.

You and Joel made your way to the truck's open bed, where a soft blanket had been laid out. The fabric was cool beneath you, but the warmth of Joel’s body beside you quickly dispelled any chill. You settled in together, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace as you both lay back to gaze at the sprawling expanse of the cosmos.

The night was a silent witness to your closeness, the stars above flickering like distant, celestial eyes. The moon hung low, casting a soft, silvery light over the landscape, making the moment feel surreal and dreamlike. Joel’s presence was a soothing balm, his breaths steady and calming against the backdrop of the night.

As you both lay there, the peacefulness of the night was punctuated by your conversation. The topics ranged from trivial to profound, each word a thread weaving the tapestry of your shared moment. The serenity of the night made every laugh and whisper seem more intimate, more precious.

Then, Joel’s voice broke the quiet, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. “Tell me more about this Ben,” he asked, his tone light but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “Ben? Oh, he’s just this new pastor. He’s always paying attention to me, it's weird...my friends keep telling me like he likes me, but he's not really my type. He's...too boyish,” you said, trying to convey your disinterest.

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Boyish? He’s an adult.”

You smiled, playfully snuggling closer. “Yeah, but he’s not you.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something akin to jealousy, though he quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. “Jealous?” you teased, noticing the subtle shift in his demeanor.

Joel gave a soft chuckle, his laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the night. “I’m not jealous.”

You continued to tease him, your light-hearted jokes breaking through the quiet night air. Each laugh and playful nudge seemed to draw you both closer, your bond solidified by the shared humor and intimacy of the moment.

However, your mind wandered back to the conversation you’d overheard with your mother. The stories of Joel’s past, of Sarah and Jane, lingered like shadows at the edge of your thoughts. A wave of curiosity and a tinge of apprehension washed over you.

“Joel,” you began tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper, “how come you never tell me about your life?"

"What do you mean, doll?"

"About Sarah and Jane,"

Joel’s body stiffened beside you, his hand retracting from its position on your waist. The shift was palpable, a stark contrast to the easy closeness you’d just shared. His face hardened slightly, a veil of discomfort settling over his features.

He looked away, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice guarded and distant.

You felt a pang of regret, your heart aching at the sight of his discomfort. The stars above, once a symbol of wonder and possibility, now felt like distant witnesses to a moment of unspoken pain. You struggled to find the right words, the metaphors of your own emotions becoming tangled in the reality of Joel’s guarded heart.

“I...I just want to understand,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I know about your life, but it feels like there’s so much more you haven’t shared.”

"And you knew about mine, all of it," you said again.

Joel’s silence was heavy, a deep, almost tangible weight that pressed against your chest. The night seemed to stretch on forever, the stars above a cold, indifferent audience to the emotions playing out beneath them. The warmth of Joel’s touch was still there, but it now felt like a fragile thread, tenuous and delicate.

Joel’s gaze softened, but the weight of his past seemed to anchor him, pulling him into a place he wasn’t ready to share. “It’s not easy to talk about,” he admitted, his voice trembling with a mixture of regret and sadness. “Some things are just too hard to revisit.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability, and you reached out, your voice gentle. “You can open up to me, Joel. I want to listen. You always listen whenever I’m down. I’m here with you,”

Joel’s eyes flickered with a storm of emotions, a mix of frustration and something else, but he remained quiet. You pressed on, your fingers lightly grazing his hand. “Do you ever think about them?"

A tense silence followed, Joel’s expression darkening. He clenched his jaw, struggling with the weight of his emotions. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his voice strained and edged with anger.

You tried to close the distance, your hand still resting on his. “Joel, it’s okay to open up.”

But before you could say more, Joel’s frustration erupted. “I just don't want to talk about it!” he snapped, his voice sharp and louder than you’d ever heard.

You flinched, your heart racing as the sudden intensity of his reaction hit you. The night, once a haven of comfort and connection, now felt oppressive, the stars above seeming distant and indifferent to the turmoil unfolding below.

Joel’s eyes widened as he saw the fear in your gaze, and his anger dissipated almost immediately, replaced by regret and sorrow. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

You tried to steady yourself, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s okay,” you whispered, though your voice wavered. “I’m sorry."

Joel’s face crumpled with remorse, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “No, no, it’s alright,” he said urgently, his hands trembling as they held you close. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You let yourself sink into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm against the sharp edges of your fear. Joel’s arms were strong and reassuring, his apologies sincere as he gently stroked your back, his touch a contrast to the harshness of his earlier words.

The night around you seemed to settle, the tension easing as Joel’s grip tightened, holding you as if he could shield you from the weight of his own emotions. The stars above continued to shine, their distant light a reminder of the vastness of the world and the smallness of your own worries in the grand scheme of things.

Joel’s voice was soft now, filled with the weight of his remorse. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I just can’t talk about it right now.”

You nestled closer against Joel, the warmth of his body enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. “It’s okay, Joel,” you murmured softly, your voice a gentle caress against the backdrop of the night. “I’m sorry to push you, but I want you to know that I am here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right here, just like you are for me.”

Joel’s fingers brushed against your hair, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, a whisper of affection that traveled down to your cheek and finally to your lips. The kiss was brief but sweet, a promise of connection and understanding. He pulled you back into his embrace, both of you gazing up at the star-speckled sky.

The vastness of the night felt like a canvas, stretching out endlessly before you. You could feel the weight of your desires and dreams mingling with the cool night air, and a yearning for freedom began to take shape in your heart. “Joel,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “I want to go out. I want to get away from all of this. Will you come with me one day?”

The sincerity in your voice carried a longing for escape, for a fresh start where the past could no longer cast its shadow. You wanted to run away, to leave behind the chains of hurt and disappointment and start anew with Joel by your side. The dream of leaving it all behind, just the two of you, was intoxicating—a chance to be free from the constraints of your everyday lives and the ghosts of your pasts.

Joel’s eyes met yours, a flicker of determination lighting up his features. He could see the raw honesty in your gaze, the hope that shimmered like the stars above. “I promise you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere, “one day, we will. We’ll get out of here and start fresh. Just you and me.”

You felt a flutter of relief and happiness at his words, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your heart. The idea of a future together, unburdened by the past, seemed within reach now, a possibility painted against the backdrop of the night sky. Joel’s promise was a beacon of hope, a light guiding you through the darkness.

You lay there, side by side, under the vast expanse of the universe, the stars shining brightly above you. The night felt endless, full of potential and promise. The warmth of Joel’s presence, the softness of his touch, and the certainty of his promise wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, making the future seem just a little bit brighter.

In the quiet moments that followed, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life, one where the past was a distant memory and the present was filled with endless possibilities. With Joel by your side, the journey ahead felt less daunting, and the dreams of escape and freedom seemed like they could one day become a beautiful reality.

***

The sun cast a warm, golden light over the school grounds as you and your classmates, including Emma, practiced your dance routines for the upcoming church event. The afternoon air was filled with the sounds of music and the rustle of your movements as you and your friends rehearsed, perfecting every step and spin. The new Pastor Ben, fresh from Mexico with his wife Jemima, observed with an encouraging smile, his presence adding an extra layer of excitement to the practice.

Pastor Ben, young and charismatic, was the center of attention for many of the girls. His charm and good looks had quickly made him popular, and you could see why. Though you knew he was married, the admiration from your friends was palpable. Jemima, his wife, had been less present in the community, focusing on settling into their new life. You hadn’t interacted with her much, and you were more familiar with Ben’s friendly demeanor and the sparkle in his eyes that made him somehow likable among your friends.

As the practice came to a close, you and Emma walked outside the school, discussing the day’s rehearsals and sharing your thoughts on the choreography. The conversation was light-hearted, filled with giggles and the occasional sigh as you both reflected on the challenges and progress made.

Suddenly, Pastor Ben appeared beside you, his presence both surprising and pleasant. “Afternoon, girls. How did the practice go today?” he asked, his attention clearly focused on you.

You could feel the warmth of his gaze as he continued, “Any difficulties? How are you finding the choreography?”

You answered, your voice steady but with a hint of nervousness, “We’re making good progress. There were a few tricky moves, but we’re getting there.”

Ben nodded, his eyes never straying far from you. “You’re doing really well. I’ve noticed you’ve been putting in a lot of effort. It shows.”

Emma, ever the enthusiastic friend, chimed in, “Oh, we’re just working hard! It’s been a lot of fun, though. Don’t you think Pastor Ben has been so encouraging?”

Ben smiled at her but turned his attention back to you. “I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to check in and see how everyone’s doing. Is there anything you need help with?”

You felt a mix of emotions—flattered by his attention but also a bit uncomfortable given the context of the situation. Ben’s genuine interest was clear, but it was hard not to feel like you were under a spotlight.

“Thank you, Pastor Ben. I think we’re okay for now. It’s just a matter of practice,” Emma said.

He nodded, “If any of you ever need any extra guidance or just want to talk, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here to help.”

As Pastor Ben walked away, you felt a twinge of relief mixed with lingering confusion. You were still processing the interaction when Ellie’s familiar voice broke through, startling you slightly.

“Oh, that’s Pastor Ben,” Ellie said, a playful tone in her voice. She tapped you on the shoulder, making Emma and you turn to face her.

Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yep, that’s the new hot pastor,"

Ellie looked between you and Emma with a knowing smile. “So, what’s the gossip on Pastor Ben?”

Before Emma could answer, you asked Ellie if she was heading home. Ellie shook her head, her excitement palpable. “Nope, I’m going out with Joel. We’re going to practice shooting. You know, for deer hunting. Joel and I usually do this.”

Just then, the sound of a truck horn pierced the air, and Ellie waved enthusiastically. “Ah, there’s Joel now. See you later, guys!”

You watched as Ellie walked toward the truck, your gaze meeting Joel’s for a brief moment. You tried to hide your blush, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest whenever Joel was near.

Emma then suddenly said, "Ah the town's DILF,"

You choked caught off guard. “What did you just say?”

Emma laughed, leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, DILF—‘Dad I’d Like to’—you know the type. Joel’s like the ultimate Southern gentleman. He’s got that rugged charm. He looks like he works with his hands, and I bet he smells like Marlboro Reds. Everyone’s talking about how lucky Ellie is. Goddamn, he's just hot,"

You felt your cheeks flush deeper, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “Emma, stop. He’s much older than us.”

Emma raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh come on, you’re telling me you’ve never thought about Joel that way? I mean, he’s your dad’s best friend in high school, but just tell me you have right?”

You glared at Emma, trying to hide the twinge of jealousy you felt. “Emma, that’s inappropriate."

Emma pouted in mock innocence. “Oh, come on! Don’t be so uptight. We’re just talking. I’m sure you’ve had some thoughts, especially with how close you are with Joel right?"

You shook your head, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions bubbling inside you. “Seriously, Emma, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Emma grinned, undeterred. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. But you have to admit, Joel’s a pretty interesting guy.”

You gave her a half-smile, trying to brush off the teasing. “Emma..."

Emma’s grin remained as she walked alongside you, her excitement infectious despite your lingering discomfort. You both made your way home, your thoughts tangled with the events of the day.

As you approached your house, Emma’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Hey, you know what? My parents are out tonight. How about a sleepover at my place? We can hang out and have some fun. It’ll be a nice break before graduation.”

You hesitated, “I don’t know, Em. I’ve got a lot to prepare for graduation.”

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. Jim will be there too, and he’s a blast. Plus, you’ll have me to keep you entertained. What’s the harm?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your reluctance. “I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

Emma’s expression softened as she playfully pleaded. “Oh, please. It’ll be fine. Just come hang out. If you don’t, my parents might not let Jim over if it's just both of us. Pretty please?”

You sighed, weighing your options. Emma’s persistence was hard to resist, and you knew it would be a good chance to take your mind off things. “Alright, alright. I’ll come. But let me ask my mom first.”

Emma’s face lit up with joy. “Yes! Thank you! I promise we’ll have a great time.”

As you walked inside your house, you found your mom in the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner for herself. The smell of food filled the air, a comforting reminder of home.

“Mom, Emma invited me to a sleepover at her house tonight,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Is it okay if I go?”

Your mom looked up, her face reflecting mild surprise but also understanding. “A sleepover? Well, I suppose it’s fine. Just be sure to come home early tomorrow."

You nodded, relieved by her response. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back early.”

With your mother’s approval, you quickly gathered your things and headed back outside to meet Emma. Her excitement was palpable as she waited for you by the front gate.

“Great! Let’s go!” Emma chirped, grabbing your hand and leading the way.

As you walked to Emma’s house, your mind was still clouded by the earlier events. The thought of spending the evening with Emma and Jim was a welcome distraction from the swirl of emotions you had been feeling. You hoped it would be a chance to relax and clear your head before facing whatever came next.

Hours later, the three of you were lounging in Emma’s cozy living room, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows on the walls. After an exciting board game session, you settled down to watch "Gone with the Wind." Emma and Jim sat close together on the couch, their whispered conversations blending with the movie's dialogue. You tried to focus on the screen, but their growing intimacy was hard to ignore.

Emma giggled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You glanced over just in time to see them exchanging a tender kiss. Their kisses grew more passionate, and soon they were making out fervently. You turned your attention back to the movie, trying to block out the sounds of their affection, but it was no use.

"I'm going to take Jim to my bedroom," Emma said, her cheeks flushed. "Is it okay if you stay here alone?"

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yeah, it's fine. I want to finish the movie anyway."

Emma smiled and led Jim to her room, leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room. The hours passed slowly, the film a distant backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Their muffled voices and occasional moans filtered through the walls, filling you with a mix of curiosity and discomfort.

The next morning, you woke early and decided to make breakfast for everyone. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the kitchen as you worked. Emma was the first to join you, her hair tousled and eyes bright.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, giving you a warm smile. “Did you have fun playing board games last night?”

You returned her smile, feeling a genuine sense of friendship. "Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for inviting me."

Emma smiling to you, "You're a good friend," you smiled at her.

You hesitated at first, then asked the question that had been on your mind. "So, uh... about last night... did you and Jim...?"

Emma blushed slightly but didn't shy away. "You mean, am I not a virgin anymore? Yes. and I'm really in love with Jim. He's so kind and supportive. We’re thinking about getting married after we graduate, moving to a big city like Austin or Houston to start our lives together. He can work in a garage, and I'll stay home."

Her words made you think of Joel, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. "Have you ever been in love?" Emma asked, noticing your pensive expression.

“I don’t know,” you replied hesitantly. “I think about someone a lot, but I’m not sure what it means.”

“And have you ever... you know, had sex?” Emma asked.

Your body tensed, the memory of Jamie’s forceful actions coming to mind. You decided to lie and shook your head.

“Typical preacher’s daughter, stay pure, hon,” Emma said, her tone sincere rather than mocking.

You swallowed, feeling a mix of discomfort and curiosity. “How does it feel like?”

Emma’s expression softened. “Well, when you’re with someone you truly care about, it can be really special. It’s not just about the physical aspect, but the emotional connection. It’s like sharing something deeply personal with someone you love and who loves you back. It can feel very intimate and fulfilling.”

You nodded, trying to understand her words. “But isn’t it scary? Does it hurt?”

Emma smiled gently. “It can be, especially the first time. But when you’re with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe, it’s a lot easier. It’s important that you feel comfortable and loved.”

You took in her words, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “What if I’m not ready for that yet?”

Emma reassured you. “That’s completely okay. There’s no rush. It’s important to wait until you feel ready and comfortable. And remember, there are other ways to show affection and care for someone.”

You felt a bit of relief. “Like what?”

Emma leaned in slightly, her voice gentle. “Like, for example, giving him oral pleasure. It’s a way to show that you care about him and want to make him feel good. But it’s really important that you’re comfortable with whatever you choose to do. Communication and mutual respect are key in any relationship.”

You blushed, feeling a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. “I don’t know much about that. It sounds kind of… complicated.”

Emma smiled warmly. “It can seem that way, but you’ll learn what feels right for you and your partner as you go along. The most important thing is to have open conversations and make sure you’re both on the same page.”

You nodded, absorbing her advice. “Thanks for explaining."

Emma’s words lingered in your mind as you processed what she had said. The idea of intimacy was something you hadn’t explored deeply, shaped by the teachings you’d grown up with. Your father’s sermons had painted it as an ultimate sin, a taboo wrapped in layers of guilt and religious doctrine. The notion of sex had always been shadowed by the fear of moral failure, a breach of sacred promises that could never be undone.

Emma’s perspective, however, was a stark contrast. She spoke of intimacy as a beautiful, shared experience between two people who cared deeply for each other. It wasn’t just a physical act but a manifestation of affection and connection. It was a way to express love, to show that you cherish someone in the most personal and vulnerable way.

You thought about Joel, and how his kindness had touched you. His presence was like a gentle light breaking through a stormy sky—offering warmth, comfort, and a sense of security you had rarely felt before. The idea of pleasing him, of sharing something deeply intimate, seemed like a way to express your gratitude, to show him how much you valued his care and support.

It was as if you were standing at the edge of a beautiful, uncharted garden, its entrance hidden behind a veil of mist and uncertainty. The garden represented a space of connection, where the blossoms of affection and mutual respect could flourish. The thought of stepping into this garden with Joel was both thrilling and daunting. It was a step into the unknown, where the flowers of shared experiences and emotional intimacy awaited.

You contemplated the possibility of finding a way to share this garden with Joel, to offer him a gesture of affection that went beyond words. Maybe through a physical expression of care, you could bridge the gap between your feelings and his, creating a shared space where love could grow and flourish.

Emma’s reassurance and gentle explanations provided a new perspective, one that allowed you to see intimacy not as a forbidden act but as a potential expression of love and appreciation. You wondered if perhaps, in time, you could navigate this new terrain with Joel, guided by mutual respect and deep affection.

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cequens · 4 months

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mxltifxnd0m · 1 month

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acts of service ~ s. winchester

summary: sam loves doing the little things for you

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

requested: yes/no by: @ohsc for my celebration my angels event! thanks for sending this in blondie!! i had sm fun writing this <33

word count: 916

warnings: none, no use of 'y/n', fluff

a/n: i won't lie, i had severe writer's block when i tried writing this blurb but im glad that i got over it, but apologies for taking so long with this!

please reblog and comment<3 it helps out and i love seeing your feedback on my fics!!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You didn’t notice it at first, but Sam loved to do things for you. Whether it be small gestures or big ones, he did them. At first, before you started to date (to Dean’s relief, he was sick of the two of you pining after each other), Sam would get you coffee/tea (either making it for you perfectly or getting your order right every time), bring your bags inside the motel room when you jokingly complained about your bags being heavy, always jumping at the chance to patch your wounds and being gentle as he could when he did.

But after you guys started dating and when you moved into the bunker, you began to notice him doing even more little deeds for you. Sam would clean up the dishes if you had cooked for him and Dean, running you a bath if you felt stressed, bringing you breakfast in bed since he always woke up before you, comb his hands through your hair when your head was in his lap during a movie night the two of you would have, and if you fell asleep on the couch in the “Dean Cave,” you always found yourself cuddled up next to Sam in the morning. Hell, he’d even get on his knees to tie up one of your boots if the shoelaces were untied.

It had finally clicked that one of Sam’s love languages was acts of service after he had surprised you with a “spa day” (Sam had run you a bath and pampered you all day) when he saw how tired you were since you guys had been going on hunts non-stop and you guys finally had a day off for once. You looked at Sam like he hung the moon for you as he washed your hair, and your heart swelled with love for the man that you’re lucky to call yours as his warm hands kneaded at the knots in your shoulders and wrapped his arms around as you fell asleep in the calming bubbled he created in your shared room.

Tonight was no different. Sam was washing up from the meal you had cooked for the three of you, and you leaned on the doorway of the kitchen as you smiled to yourself, watching how his back muscles shifted underneath the white t-shirt he was wearing, having stripped off his flannel in preparation to wash the dishes.

Sam was drying off one of the last dishes when you kicked off from the doorway and made your way to Sam. He was toweling off the last dish as you wrapped your arms around his trim waist, and you hugged him from behind. You could feel him chuckle in amusement as he put down the dish on the rack near the sink.

Your grip was loose enough that he was able to turn around in your hold, and a soft smile was on his face as he looked down at you, mirth glittering in his hazel eyes.

You mirrored his smile. “Thank you.” You said as you unwrapped your arms from his waist to rest your hands on his shoulders.

“You’re welcome,” Sam said, his smile turning into a confused one. He tilted his head slightly, making him resemble a puppy, his hair falling with the movement.

“But what for exactly?” Sam moved his damp hands to rest on your waist as he pulled you in his body.

“Just for being the best boyfriend.” You told him as you shrugged.

Sam raised an eyebrow at you in response.

“What? Can I not complement my incredibly thoughtful, sweet, kind, and not to mention drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend?” You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you saw Sam’s face flush with heat, a bashful smile on his lips.

Sam leaned forward and drew into a sweet kiss that you melted into. One of his hands left your waist to cup your cheek as he kissed you softly, his lips moving against yours slowly, drawing it out as it filled your chest with warmth.

Sam started to walk you backward as the kiss grew more passionate until your back hit the wood of the kitchen table, his tongue swiping at the seam of your lips. You gave him entrance, and a soft moan left the back of your throat as he tasted you.

You broke away from the kiss, unfortunately needing to take a breath. You looked at Sam’s slightly swollen pink lips before trailing up to his blown-out eyes. The hazel of his eyes was practically nonexistent, considering how dilated his pupil was.

The two of you smiled at each other, staring at each other for a moment before you leaned forward and left a lingering kiss on Sam’s lips. Sam kept this kiss soft, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek before pulling away and trailing a kiss on your opposite cheek and then your forehead.

When he pulled away, Sam had a gentle smile on his face as he studied your blissed-out features. Your eyes were lidded as you looked at him with a love-filled gaze.

Sam rested his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispered, Sam’s lips grazing yours as he spoke.

You smiled. “I love you too, honey.”

The two of you stayed in the kitchen, fitted against each other like puzzle pieces, and you found solace in the silence that settled between you and Sam, breathing in each other's scents, which you knew to be home.

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isadollie · 2 months

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hi anne! i wanted to request boyfie x fem!reader headcanons for daichi and kuroo from haikyuu?

btw loved your recent bokuto hubby drabble 🥺 you've really blessed us 🥺 i wanted to include bokuto for the ask but you wrote him so well in that drabble! 🤧 you can still include him in this request if you'd like 👀 might be fun hehe 🤭

thank you! 🤍🤍

boyfriend! daichi, kuroo, bokuto headcanons (separate)

★ hello anon! tysm for requesting<3

★ and omgg, i'm so happy you liked my little bokuto drabble! 🥹🥹 i included him in the headcanons here as well cause it's never too much bokuto am i right or am i right

♡ DAICHI SAWAMURA

★ super protective like omg

★ i feel like he loves to hold hands at all times

★ the sidewalk rule.

★ is veryy serious about your relationship

★ already plans your future together and loves to talk about it

★ always asks for your opinion though

★ "my love, when we get married, do you want to get a cat? a dog? maybe a hamster?"

★ can be a bit too serious sometimes tbh

★ like, when you guys are out with friends, sometimes you have to nugde him and be like "that person was joking btw" cause he just doesn't get itttt

★ that type of man that your family would love

★ might get late to the meeting with your family and then enter with a cute smile and be like "i'm so sorry, i met an elder lady on my way and i had to help her with grocery shopping"

★ he's that type to read every single book you said you liked, and watch all your favorite movies

★ always insists to pay for everything

★ acts of service allll the way

★ will stop in the middle of your walk to kneel down and tie your shoe

★ loves to show you off in front of his teammates

★ ALSO OMG imagine you two go shopping cause you wanted to get some new makeup supplies

★ he'll carry your cart and when you want to see how would a lipstick, eyeshadow or anything else look on skin, he offers you his hand so you can try out all the shades on him hehe

★ and then when you two walk out of the store both of his hands are covered in blush, lipsticks and other stuff but he doesn't care tbh

★ (now i kinda want to write a drabble abt it)

★ (let me know if i should)

♡ KUROO TETSURO

★ would probably do anything you asked of him tbh

★ he's that type of boyfriend to also be your bestie ykwim

★ "they broke up?? no way! give me all the details rn"

★ skincare routine is his favourite activity with you, he's just so glad you got him into that

★ then he goes to practice and talks to his teammates like "don't you guys see how i'm GLOWING??"

★ pretty random but i hc that he can fall asleep literally anywhere and that he loves naps

★ kinda... like a cat...

★ and oh he SNORES

★ loves to tease you sm

★ especially abt your height, let's be honest

★ asks how's the weather down there and thinks he's funny

★ i feel like he really cares about kenma's approval of your relationship

★ introducing u to kenma was more important for him than introducing you to his family atp 💀

★ so stressed abt it too it's honestly funny

★ but kenma said you seem cool so kuroo can already go look for a ring

★ sends you reels of cats cuddling and says "us"

★ loves to carry you and always looks for an excuse to do so

★ would switch his shoes with yours when your legs start to hurt

★ looks good in your heels and i'm telling you, he walks in them better than u do

★ just smirks and says that he can teach you to be better lol

♡ BOKUTO KOTARO

★ lowkey an introvert's nightmare

★ probably took ages to confess tho

★ cause he's just too afraid to mess up, and he doesn't want to ruin your friendship:(

★ asked akaashi to help confess

★ also, asks akaashi with help with ANYTHING

★ like in my head, bokuto doesn't really have any previous relationship experience

★ so he doesn't really know what to do sometimes and you're very important to him so he wants to do everything right

★ therefore he asks akaashi for help. all the time. all. the. time.

★ like let my man akaashi rest 😭

★ asks him what to get you for your birthday, how to apologize after a fight, anything you can think of tbh

★ so clingy, the definition of clingy actually

★ wants to hang out 24/7

★ if you asked him to move in with you on the very same day you two started dating, he'd agree without hesitation

★ also texts you whenever you can't meet up

★ sends the most random shit, especially on tiktok and ig

★ he's that type to, when he plays a match, before he makes a serve, points at you and is like "this one's for you" and then completely misses

★ will talk your ear off

★ says the cutest things when he's sleepy

★ he'll just cuddle up to you and start rambling abt how much he loves you

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telkosh · 1 year

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chososdiscordkitten · 9 months

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Boyfriend!Choso♡

Pairing: Choso x Gn!reader

Content: Fluff, sfw, no use of y/n or pronouns, readers appearance isnt mentioned, talk of marriage, sooo many cuddles, Choso's love language is acts of service, mentions of skin picking from anxiety, John wick movies mentioned lol

Word count: 3.5k

(a.n) I wrote this bcs I miss him sm, I shed a few tears while writing this btw. He's my pookie bear. finally putting my endless amount of books of love poems to work! I wrote this while listening to 'We'll Never Have Sex- Leith Ross' if u were curious:3

When I think about Choso as your boyfriend, I picture him being so gentle and delicate whenever it comes to you. Always a small sweet smile on his lips whenever he did something for you. As small as it was- all he needed was a simple “Awe, thank you Cho.” from you and a kiss on his cheek and he was set for the day. If you were studying for your college final, he’s the kind of person to bring you a warm cup of fresh coffee, “Careful-” he’d urge, seeing your hand reach for it. “It's hot.” Warning you, even if he was holding it from the bottom before he came to give it to you. I see Choso adoring kisses from you. Small pecks on his cheek or his forehead. In his mind it was your way to say thank you, even if it wasn't needed. But he loved how his chest swelled when you'd say, “Oh, Choso. You're so sweet.” your hand going to your chest and your eyebrows pinched together. Early in your relationship Choso noticed how much he liked hearing you praise him. Even if it was a quiet “Thank You.” followed by a warm smile. He liked knowing that you enjoyed his acts of service. It was his form of showing affection, thinking that he wasn't good with his words. And feeling like hugs and kisses weren't enough to make you feel his love. The best way Choso could describe it is wanting you to keep him in your pocket, when you commented that to him he liked the idea so much that it got stuck in his head. The idea of him living in your pocket so he was always with you, always there in case you needed a warm hug. He liked seeing your face light up when you came home from work after having a bad day. Only needing to see him in order to feel better. It also helped that he always greeted you by the door with a warm smile on his lips. Always taking your coat off for you, and asking how your day was.

Choso feels things so deeply, even mentioning the day you might break up made him nervous. Making his hands clammy and his eyebrows furrow. “If I tell you this, you have to promise me that you will never tell anyone.” You tell him, the two of you sitting faces inches apart, legs criss crossed like two children sharing secrets. He opened his mouth to talk, his hand going to his chest and laying flat against his oversized white t-shirt. “I promise, I will never tell anyone.” serious look on his face as he vowed to you. “Cho, I'm serious, even if one day you hate me- you cannot tell a soul.” you smiled, seeing Choso’s eyebrows furrow. “I would never hate you. Never in my life will I ever hate you-” he promised, his hand reaching down to hold yours as his eyes went wide with worry. “And if one day I tell you that I do- that is not me.” he smiled. Making you laugh as you clutched his hand. Smiling before leaning in to kiss his forehead, Choso’s eyes blinking shut as his cheeks turned warm. Pulling away and looking at his now calm eyes, “Okay-” you smiled, before pulling his head to your lips and whispering in his ear.

I think the way Choso loves is pure and unconditionally. The kind of love that was shown by his actions rather than his words. Like when you cut your finger while mincing some vegetables for lunch. Choso would wipe it gently with hydrogen peroxide. Wincing with you as though he felt the sting on your finger. Mumbles of “You have to be careful.” as he wrapped it delicately. Placing a gentle kiss on the bandage before cleaning up. Any time he saw a bruise on your calf, he hissed as his fingers pressed it. “Where'd that come from?” he asked, his voice pained as he rubbed it gently. “No idea. Didn't even know it was there.” you smiled, feeling him press a soft kiss to it. To Choso, all wounds and bruises are healed with kisses. He knew that if you treated something with love and care, it would heal quicker. His theory made you smile as he swore that it was true. Remembering his theory when you'd hold his hands, your soft fingers examining his calloused ones as he watched a show you had put on. Almost feeling the pain in your own hands when you saw the sides of his fingertips bright pink. Small scabs forming at the sides of his fingernails, sharp pain in your heart as your eyes scanned them. Knowing he picked at the skin anytime he got anxious. Choso turned his head to look at you to see what was wrong. Seeing your saddened eyes on his fingers. Lifting them up and placing kisses to the tips of them one by one. Your eyes closed as he felt his heart swell.

The way Choso loves is an adoration only seen in movies. The kind of love that teenage girls write about in their diaries. The kind of love that no matter what you've gone through, he will stay by your side. Feet planted to the ground and arm wrapped around you. The kind of man who would defend your actions- no matter if they're wrong, with an iron fist. The kind of love where if you were lost at sea, he'd sail through the endless salt water till he found you. Love so pure, you were unsure of it at first. Only ever seeing this kind of love in movies and tv shows. But he assured you quickly, this wasn't any movie or tv show. His warm hands on your face always reminded you of that. You'd close your eyes and feel him kiss your cheeks, placing one onto your brow bone, onto the bridge of your nose. However many kisses it took to make sure you knew that this wasn't some fairytale. Choso would get tears in his eyes when he heard you speak about the trials you were put through growing up. Crumbling completely at your words, hearing your voice started to shake and your eyes turned red with tears. Not being able to understand how anyone could hurt you. To him you were precious. Even thinking about the tears you’ve shed over your pain, made him sad. He never understood how people could be so cruel, especially to you. He hated seeing you sad. He hated seeing you in bed all day, he hated seeing you pick at your food. Choso hated seeing your lips chapped and cracking while you tried to assure him that you were okay with a smile. He is such an empath when it comes to you, always trying his hardest to cheer you up.

Choso’s favorite moments with you were the ones where he would hold you close. Slow dancing in the living room by candle light when the lights went out. Violent rain and thunder outside as he hummed the tune of a song. Stumbling feet as you both tried to figure out the movements. And every night before bed when you held onto him as though he would disappear in your hands if you let go. Feeling your fingertips press into his clothed skin, face nuzzled to his chest. His chin on the top of your head, his hand rubbing your back as he lulled you to sleep. Even in deep slumber, he never lets you go. Most nights going to sleep in each others arms and waking up still clinging to each other, somehow feeling like two puzzle pieces coming together. Most of the moments you shared together were spent in silence. Only in eachothers arms. Eyes closed as you felt the feelings of stress and the worries of life fade away in his arms. His hand caressing the side of your face as you drifted to sleep. Choso loved hearing your heartbeat, feeling your warmth against the side of his face as he tried counting how many times you breathed per minute. To him it was like counting sheep before going to bed. I don't think Choso would be the type to use pet names, preferring the intimacy of calling you by your name. But he loved hearing you say his name, the way your voice always said it so sweetly. He loved your voice. Just hearing you whisper, "Good morning-" before kissing his cheek made him giddy in the morning. That's why he would insist on you reading out loud to him, caressing your knee while listening to your voice.

I see Choso as the kind of guy who would try to convince you he knew how to tell someone's future, “Oh really?” You asked, sarcasm in your tone as his hand held yours. “I swear I do-” he started, a smile already on his face as he looked up to the sky. It was late, two, maybe three am. Both of you had lost the want to sleep that night, Choso had asked you if you had noticed how bright the stars shined at night. Seeing as you were on the outskirts of Tokyo and high in the mountains, the stars shone so brightly. So close you felt like you could touch them if you reached your hand out to them. Laying on the grass as you looked over at him, the full moon gave you a clear look at his face. “Then tell me my future.” You said, turning to your side and holding your head up with your hand. He closed his eyes, And let out a ‘hmmm’ he let go of your hand, mirroring the way you laid, opening one eye to look at you. “You have to close your eyes too or it wont work.” He smiled, looking at you. Sighing as you closed your eyes, knowing he was just trying to be funny. “Alright now I can see.” He laughed, you exhaled sharply hearing his tone. His hand reached for yours again, guiding you to hold your hand flat against his, “Ohh i see. This makes sense.” He exaggerated. “Tell me.” you smiled, keeping your eyes closed. Choso opened his eyes to look at you. Admiring your features, taking in the image of you. He thought you looked so beautiful. The way you smiled, waiting for him to tell you the future. Practically melting at how your yes shut tight in anticipation, he smiled. Leaning over to kiss you, pulling away as he watched you open your eyes. You looked at him, eyes squinted, “I knew it.” you said, dropping your hand from his as he smiled at you. He turned to lay on his back, laying your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat quicken. His hand went to you back, holding you close as you closed your eyes. “The only thing I see when I think about my future is knowing it will be with you.” Choso whispered, his free hand behind his head as you rubbed your hand on his chest.

I see Choso not liking horror movies, always dreading when you brought home a dvd from the 5 dollar section at the gas station. It wasn't because he was scared or anything (his words not mine) he just didn't like seeing the violent things people thought about to make a movie. Not understanding what cruel childhood the director must've had to think of such disgusting gore. Choso's hands clothing your arm, closing his eyes anytime he sensed a scary scene was coming. His body involuntarily jumped as a loud bang flashed on the screen. And everytime you laughed he'd say, “I was falling asleep- the noise surprised me.” Defending himself to you like he had to let you think he was strong. And after the movie was over and you'd be getting ready for bed, in the kitchen getting a glass of water. You'd say, “Did you hear that?” voice quiet and feigning fear. Seeing him flinch, shoulders stiff and turning around to stand in front of you, protecting you from any ghosts that dared step into the light. You couldn't hold in your laugh when you saw him get into his ‘fighting stance’ as he liked to call it, seeing him look back at you with a deadpan face. Taking a step forwards toward your bedroom. “Wait, don't leave the ghosts might get me!” you'd laugh, seeing his hand fwip up and down. “They can have you.” he mumbled, waiting for you at the doorway, secretly afraid of a ghost actually being there. Choso loves you always, even when you feel like complete garbage as the flu ate away at you. “Don't come near me- you'll get sick.” You'd say stuffy nose as he tried to hug you. “I don't care.” he’d reply, his hands wrapping around you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Spending the few days doting on you, holding you close while you shivered in his arms. Whispering to you "Gimme a kiss." before bed. Knowing he won’t go to sleep if you didn't grant him his wish. It didn't take long for Choso to catch it. But like he told you, he didn't care. As a matter of fact- he preferred being sick. It only gave you more reasons to stay at home with him, loving how you’d make him hot soup. How you'd scold him when he didn't take the flu medicine you had bought him. Choso didn't care, he liked knowing that the next morning you'd have to call into work to take care of him. Even long after it had passed, early in the mornings asking you to feel his forehead. That he doesn't feel too good. And you'd always check, pressing your hand to his forehead, “Cho, you feel fine.” you'd say, “Well my stomach hurts too-” he'd say, watching your hands grab your coat with pained eyes, seeing his eyes full of desperation. You placed a kiss on his lips, “I will be home soon.” you'd say through your teeth, seeing him pout in response. Always looking for a way to keep you home with him.

I see Choso being jealous and possessive. Not in the way you’d think, more in a “I'm jealous of the wind that blows through your clothes.” kind of way. Possessive in the “I want you here with me till the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.” manner. I could never picture Choso willingly being toxic, a few pinkish flags but nothing that could ever really bother you. He was thrown into the new feelings of a different kind of love, so it was understandable when he would say something that was a thought straight from his head. Not bothering to think about it before telling you. But you always knew he meant his words, no matter how jumbled they were. When Choso had brought up how he could never forgive himself if he ever made you cry, you felt your heart strings pull at your chest. How he was so blessed to be with you. Loving him even when he was a mess. The kind of lover that draws you by candle light, telling you- “You look so beautiful- I have to show you.” his hands picking up a napkin and a stray pen from the living room coffee table. Drawing you slowly as you looked at him, thinking about how you were the blessed one to have such a perfect partner. Choso feared very few things, always making sure that you're safe in any situation. Didn't matter how small the danger risk was, you always came first. But what he feared most was your death, he had seen the movies about a perfect love that was shattered by the death of the other. While watching movies Choso liked picturing the two of you as the characters in his mind. Movies that were stupid romcoms, but he still watched them while daydreaming the couples were you and him. When you had brought up if he'd like to watch the John Wick movies, “They're just action movies about a guy who never dies.” You'd say as he nodded his head yes. After watching the first one he thought heavily of what he'd do if you were taken from him. What would become of him if you weren't here anymore. Choso’s heart clenched as he started breathing heavily. Turning over to see your back as you slept, fearing you had died in your sleep he pulled your arm so you'd flip to your back. Placing his ear to your chest, focusing on trying to hear your heartbeat as you slept. A relieved sigh leaving his lips at hearing your heart. Feeling the sudden weight on your chest, stirring awake as you squinted down at him. His eyes look up at you, whispering a small “Sorry.” Before pulling the shared blanket back on top of you. Laying on his side as you turned back around. His hands find their designated place around you, spooning you while you go back to sleep.

Before you came into his life, Choso didn't have a home. He didn't have something to call home, even if he had a place to lay his head at night. Reading about how people consider their partners home. He didn't know what the feeling felt like till he was in your arms. The tingling feeling in his cheeks as you held onto him, thinking back to a poem he had read a while ago. He'd look up at you, “I get it now-” he'd say propping himself up on his forearms. Looking at his face that was lit up as though he had solved a puzzle he was putting together for years. Your eyes scanned his face in confusion as he jumped off of the bed and walked to the office of your apartment. Sitting up as you heard him rummaging through the drawers. Walking back to the bedroom with a smile on his face and a small book in hand. Fingers flipping through the pages in search of something. “It's the middle of the night-” you said, feeling him plop onto the bed, his eyes widening when he found what he was looking for. He cleared his throat, eyes on the text. “If I were to build a house, I'd have your arms as the walls,-” Choso read, eyes looking back up to you to make sure you were listening. “Your eyes as the windows, your smile as the front door, your heart as the fireplace.” Toothy smile on his lips as he read the words to you. “And your soul as my light.” his voice shaking, watching your eyes tear up. “And in this house, I'd place my faith, knowing I'd finally found a home.” He finished, closing the pages and setting it down. Your eyes struggled to keep the tears at bay, eyebrows pinched together as his eyes looked to yours, small smile on his lips. “I read this before I met you-” he said, eyes sparkling even in the dim lighting. “And I finally understand it.” He confessed, placing his head back to your chest, his eyes shutting in content, feeling you held his face. “I finally know what a home feels like.” He mumbled to your skin, hand flat on your rib. Smile on your lips while a single tear fell down your cheek. Choso didn't think he was the greatest at explaining his feelings, relying on his actions instead. But when he would say small things like that, it would always make your heart warm. Knowing that there was someone in this world who truly loved you. Unconditionally and without restraint. Never feeling shame in telling you loved you, even if he had told you 10 times that day.

I see Choso as the kind of person who says things without thinking of them first, but only with you. Often preferring silence with strangers. But when hes with you, he would blurt out the thoughts that had popped into his head while he listened to your ranting about your coworkers. Staring into your eyes, listening to the colorful string of words leave your lips. Heard in his pupils, chin in his hand, low eyes when you noticed his staring. He let a hum fall from his closed lips. “Marry me.” He hummed, eyes going wide hearing his own words leave his mouth before he could stop them. You smiled, relaxing your shoulders. Letting a small laugh fall from your lips seeing him start to stutter trying to save the conversation. Silence falling between you as you watched him realize he couldn't make you unhear his words. “I messed it up again, didn't I?” he asked, his hand on his forehead while he looked down. “Like when I messed it up when you told me you loved me-” He asked, looking up to see you smiling. Sighing, feeling embarrassment flush his cheeks. “It's okay.” You smiled, holding his hand and placing a kiss on his forehead. Feeling his stiff shoulders soften. "It's okay." You repeated, lacing your fingers with his as you soothed him.

a lil shorter than usual but I wanted to post this for anyone who was looking for Choso fluff, knowing that there isnt a whole lot of it on here🫠

#jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #choso my beloved #jjk fluff #choso fluff #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu kaisen #choso jjk #jjk x gender neutral reader

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mydadleft471 · 2 months

Text

A Brief Respite

Summary: Something is bothering Messmer. Even if you can't fix what's wrong, you can show him how much you care for him.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings, just tooth-rotting fluff for my favorite boi.

MESSMER LOVERS, I AM BACK!!!

Sorry for the radio silence! I was on vacation (which was so nice btw) and I got back and hammered this baby out! I missed writing for Messmer sm. Anywho, thank you to the genius @manitscold for the idea for this fic! If there's any other ideas for fics, please let me know!

Please enjoy and realize that ye olde English is a pain in the ass.

You awake early in the morning to sunlight streaming in through your window.

You rub your eyes and clumsily push the plush red comforter embroidered with Messmer’s insignia back and ease out of your bed. Per usual, the servants at the Shadow Keep had catered to your every need, and your breakfast was already sitting on the table in your quarters. You truly believe you get better service than Messmer himself.

He had always treated you well even before he began courting you, but now, he showers you with the finest gifts he can find. Beautiful embroidered dresses, specifically tailored for you, flawless gemstones, rich wines, and sturdy armor sets were all left for you in your private quarters. You live quite comfortably here.

He has also ensured your protection. His most trusted guards stand watch outside your quarters, day and night, and you are allowed to carry your weapon freely around the castle. You don’t really need your weapon much, as Messmer prefers to personally guard you whenever possible. You have never felt more safe. His presence is comforting and warm.

Lately, though, you haven’t seen him as much. Perhaps a battle went horribly wrong, or he’s sick. You don’t know, but whenever he is around, he seems like something is troubling him. He doesn’t speak as often and he remains closed-off, even from you.

You were, hopefully, going to remedy that today. You requested various flowers, bath salts, and oils from Castle Ensis, and they had finally arrived. You were going to make him relax, no matter what.

Dressed in a fine dress made of red velvet with glimmering gold accents and with a satchel filled to the brim with salts, petals, and soaps, you begin to make your way to Messmer’s chamber. Servants bow their heads in reverence to you as you pass, and you greet two Fire Knights as you approach Messmer’s door. Not unusual, but today they’re standing directly in front of the door rather than off to the sides.

“Good morning. I wish to see Lord Messmer.”

The right guard bows his head and replies solemnly. “My Lady, Sir Messmer has requested to not be bothered.”

“Even if it’s me?” You quirk your brow upwards and place a hand on your hip.

“Well… I suppose he wouldn’t bar you from entering. Apologies, My Lady.” You hear a wavering fear in his voice. Perhaps he realizes that keeping his Lord from you would be a terrible idea.

Stepping aside, they push open the solid metal doors and bow their heads as you pass. Being the Lady of the castle certainly had its perks.

The heavy doors shut with a heavy thump behind you and you proceed into the darkened room. There are a few candles lit around the chamber. You hear thundering footsteps from behind the throne at the front of the room. You wonder if you should’ve left him alone.

“I requested to be left well alone. Secluded from all.” His low, authoritative voice echoes across the stone walls. You see one of his snakes poke its head out from the darkness and you straighten your posture.

Messmer comes out from behind the large throne and hurries towards you, steps light yet graceful, befitting a demigod. He grabs your hand and inspects you for injuries.

“My darling, whatever is the matter? Has something happened?” His features soften and butterflies erupt in your stomach from his gentle touch.

“Nothing has happened. Everything is alright, love.” You reach your hand up towards his cheek to cradle it and he lowers himself to allow you to. You notice that the dark circles underneath his eyes have grown heavier and he looks weary. “Are you alright, Messmer?”

The question takes him aback. He shoots you a weak smile and gently kisses your palm. “Yes, my darling. It has been a rather vexing week, nothing more. Thou must not worry about such matters; I will attend to them.”

You know he is lying. Something has happened, but why would he be worried to open up to you? He has been forthcoming about his mother and his crusade in her name, so what could possibly make him think he can’t talk to you?

“Love, I’m here for you. I know something is bothering you.” He looks away from you, head bowed down. You make him look at you, and he meets your soft gaze with hesitation. “You do not have to bear everything by yourself, you know. Please let me help you.”

He sighs and grabs your hands with his much larger ones. “A sweeter companion I could never hope to have. But some burdens are mine to bear as they are mine own sins.”

“Are you thinking about the war?”

“Yes. The blood I have spilled would paint this castle ruby, inside and out. And yet, it is Mother’s will. Her vengeance has become mine own flesh.” He sounds conflicted, like he knows what is right and wrong, and yet, he can’t bring himself to stray from the path his Mother set him on. He pulls his hands away from yours, scared he will taint your innocence with his touch.

“I’m not scared of you.” His eye gleams bright gold at your words.

“Perhaps not now. But, should we have met before, my visage would haunt thy very nightmares.” His snakes gently coil around him more, as if comforting him. You long to do the same. To take all his pain and make it vanish into thin air.

But you cannot do that.

“I have a surprise for you.” You break the haunting silence and interrupt his spiraling train of thought.

“What is it?” He sounds exhausted.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” You shoot him a playful smile, and he returns it with a much weaker one. You take his hand and begin to lead him back to his chambers behind his towering throne. Slowly, you make your way to the back of his room where a large marble tub sits vacant.

“So… there’s really no better way to say this, but I need you to strip and get in the bath for me.” Heat rushes to your cheeks. You dare to look up at him. His gaze shifts between the tub and you rapidly, and his face matches his hair.

“Only if you want to! If this makes you uncomfortable, we can forget this ever happened. I got fancy bath salts and soaps from Castle Ensis to help you relax.” You open your satchel and show him the various bottles and wrapped packages you brought with you.

“Thou hast done this… to offer me a respite?”

“You’ve seemed preoccupied lately. A nice bath always helps me clear my mind and rest.” You give him a bashful smile. His eye is wide and his face is twisted in confusion.

“Thou does not wish for me to disrobe for thy own pleasure?”

You think you’re going to die before this conversation is over.

“No! I just want you to get in the bath and relax!” You take a second to breathe and quiet your voice. You don’t want him to think that you want him just for sex. “I can wash your hair if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” You barely hear his response over your rapid heartbeat.

“Okay.”

You begin to run the water, making sure it’s warm, but not hot. You sprinkle in some lavender and rose petals and throw in some sweet-smelling salts for good measure. Messmer watches you with a curious eye. His snakes do the same. They flick their tongues and turn their heads side-to-side.

Once the tub is filled, the room smells fantastic. You set your satchel to the side and fetch him a soft towel and his favorite red silk robe. You set everything within arms reach.

“Okay, I’ve got everything set up. So I’ll, uh, step out for a few minutes. Just call me back when you’re ready.”

He nods at you and you make your way out of his chambers. Shutting the heavy door behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Hopefully, this will help him relax and take his mind off of fighting a war he wasn’t meant to wage. You know you aren’t able to take away the horrible memories of hundreds of years of war, but you can help him forget, even if for a moment.

“I am ready.” His voice interrupts your thoughts. You take a deep breath and step back inside. Peeking around the corner, you see him sitting perfectly straight in the tub with his back to you, his snakes curiously peering over his shoulder for your return.

You sit on the edge of the bath and gently place a hand on his back, careful of where his snakes have torn through his skin. “How do you feel? Is the water okay?”

“I am… nervous. But the water is quite nice.”

“Why are you nervous, my love?” You rub soothing circles into his back.

“No one has ever seen me like this. Exposed.”

“I can leave if I’m making you uncomfortable.” You begin to stand up, but he grabs your wrist.

“Thy presence is never unwelcome. I am just not used to this. Thy touch. Thy care.” He lets go of your wrist.

“You deserve love and care, Messmer.”

“Perhaps.”

“You do.” You lean down to wrap your arms around him, but he stops you.

“Thy dress. I do not wish for you to ruin it because of me.”

“Oh hush. Have you seen the amount of dresses in my wardrobe? Now lean your head back.”

He does as you ask and you see the worry in his eye. As gently as you can, you pour water over his head and smooth his hair down. You reach over and grab some shampoo and begin to massage it into his scalp. His eye flutters closed at the sensation of your nails scratching against his scalp and he shudders.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to stop?”

“No. This is wonderful.” You laugh and keep going. Your hands are comically small compared to his head, so it takes you quite some time to make sure all of his hair is covered. Not that you mind, however, when the slightest touch leaves him in such a state of relaxation.

Once again, you pour water over his hair and wash away the sweet shampoo. You ensure no suds get into his eye.

He has allowed you to move him how you please and you’re touched by how much he trusts you. Grabbing some conditioner, you run it through his hair and rub it into his scalp. Once again, he shudders and his breathing slows. He’s enjoying this.

“You’re very pretty, my love.” You see his cheeks redden and he opens his mouth to protest, but you scratch his scalp with both hands and he falls silent immediately. The next time he goes to rebuke something you say, you’ll just do this. You’ll never be wrong again.

Washing the conditioner out of his hair, you also notice that his snakes seem to be enjoying this. They watch you with content looks on their faces, tongues flicking out happily. You rinse your hands off and reach out to pet them. They nuzzle approvingly into your palm.

“They adore you, darling.” He gives you a loving smile.

“More than you do?”

“An impossible feat.” The snakes hiss out in disagreement and you laugh.

“Would you like me to let you get out?” You feel the water and frown as it’s beginning to get a little cold.

“Perhaps. I do rather enjoy this.”

“I’ll brush your hair when you’re dressed. How does that sound?”

“Marvelous. Thy surprise continues to enchant me.”

“Good.” You kiss him on the cheek and rise from where you were sitting. You move the towel and his robe closer to him at the edge of the tub, and leave his chambers again. You make a mental note to add the salts, soaps, and flowers to the supply list from Castle Ensis permanently. Perhaps this could be a weekly thing for him. You’d do it as often as it took for him to look so relaxed again.

The large door opens and Messmer greets you with a smile. He looks decades younger. His red hair dangles around his face, droplets of water kissing his skin and rolling down his neck. His red robe hugs his frame nicely.

He holds out his hand and you take it wordlessly. He shuts the doors with a flick of his wrist and guides you over to his large bed. You notice that his hairbrush is already on the comforter. He sits down on the edge of the bed and you shuffle your way behind him.

“Ready?” You don’t need to ask, but you do.

“Yes. I do not know how this will go. Mine hair is… unruly.”

“Then I’ll just have to brush it everyday.”

“You spoil me, darling.”

“As do you. Now hold still, and tell me if anything hurts.”

You test the waters by running your fingers through his hair, and he wasn’t lying. His hair is rather tangled and will take some work to get straight. You silently curse your lover for not taking better care of himself, and get to work. You start with the ends of his hair and brush out the small knots at the bottom as carefully as you can. Eventually, with some work, the hair obeys and flows down his back as it’s supposed to.

You take a second to check on Messmer. He’s been silent the whole time and you want to make sure he’s enjoying this. Your worries are short lived, however, when you see his eye closed and his face relaxed. His mouth is slightly open and his breathing is even.

“Is something the matter?” He asks you, still with his eye closed.

“Just making sure you’re alright, love.”

“With thee, I am blissfully content.”

“Please keep that in mind as I work through these tangles.” He laughs and shakes his head at your antics.

“I shall. I will repeat it as a mantra for thine efforts.”

You give him a small peck on the cheek and return to your work. You begin to move up to the hair beneath his neck and slowly brush at any tangles you find. With some persistence, his hair is soft and silky once again. You notice one of his snakes out of the corner of your eye watching your gentle movements. The other is happily splayed on the comforter.

Slowly, you make your way to his scalp, and within a half hour, you have his fiery hair running in gentle waves down his shoulders. Putting the brush down, you use your fingers to sweep through his hair for any stubborn tangles, but you don’t find any. Satisfied, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and lay your head against his neck.

“I’m tired now.” Your remark makes him chuckle and wrap his hand around one of yours.

“I have no doubt.” He leans his head against yours and sighs. “This was a most pleasant surprise, my darling. I thank thee for this.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do for you.”

He untangles himself from you and gently pulls you down onto the soft bed beside him. You tuck yourself into his side and yawn.

“There are days I find myself believing that I do not deserve thee. This is yet another one of those days.”

You kiss the back of his hand and shake your head. “You deserve all of this and more.”

“Perhaps.” He pulls you closer to him. His skin is smooth and smells like lavender. “Sleep, my beloved.”

“It’s not even time for dinner.”

“You would disobey your Lord?” He taunts you playfully.

“No, I would not.” You snort.

“I shall wake thee for dinner.”

“You’re going to fall asleep with me.”

He relaxes into the cushions and pillows beneath him and kisses your forehead. “I do not hear thee complaining.”

“I’m not. I want to stay here forever with you.”

You’re beginning to slip into slumber. You let your eyes flutter closed and snuggle into Messmer’s side. He gently pulls a blanket over you and tucks you in as best he can.

“As do I, my beloved.”

“I love you, Messmer.”

Before you completely succumb to sleep, you hear his quiet reply.

“And I thee, my sweet consort.”

#messmer the impaler #elden ring #messmer x reader #shadow of the erdtree #messmer x tarnished #best boi #major fluff #i love him #messmer the impaler x reader

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