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galatially · 4 hours
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3 signs a wizard has inflicted a curse on you:
vibrator dies mid use
roll a shitty joint
realize part way through your favourite song you weren't paying attention
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galatially · 6 hours
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nineteen.
ranger!nanami kento x psychic gym leader!reader, pokémon au, wc: 666
thank you to the lovely @likelilacwine for inspiring and supporting this series! 💜 and to @vennilavee i hope you enjoy these next two parts. thank you for being so wonderful!
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Sukuna launches himself at you and you use your telekinesis to pin him in place with arms glued to his side. You can’t keep this up for long. Already, you can feel your hold on him slowly lessening.
“Is this the best you can do?” Taunting laughter bubbles out of Sukuna’s throat. “I was expecting more of a challenge.”
“What have you done with Yuji?” Nanami speaks up.
Red orbs cut to the man beside you. An extra pair of eyes appear beneath, totaling four. “The brat held out longer than I anticipated. But he’s gone and I’m in control of this body now.”
The last of your strength leaves you and Sukuna is free. He lands on one knee with his gaze locked onto you. He’s ready to make another attempt at attacking you when he’s stopped by the doors to the gym suddenly flying open. 
All eyes turn to the entrance from where a gust of hot air enters into the foyer. A lone figure stands, the hood of a cloak obscuring their face, emitting a powerful and ancient presence. Their energy is similar to Sukuna’s, but noticeably less hostile. They step forward and the heat they carry with them intensifies.
Sukuna scowls, still in a kneeled position. The figure stops in front of him. They lower their hood to reveal rich brown skin and thick obsidian curls. The unveiled stranger is a woman. You don’t recognize her, but the way Sukuna’s expression shifts tells you he does. 
“I’m impressed how quickly you found me,” he drawls. “I haven’t been awake for an entire day.”
“I’ve know all this time.” Her eyes, muddy and dark like the earth after rainfall, gaze down on him with fondness. “I had hoped the psychic could keep you contained. But, alas, history is destined to repeat itself.”
“You’d betray me again?” There’s hurt packed into the crevices of the deep timbre of his voice. “For the mortals?”
“We used to be the same as them.”
“And I stomped out that weakness so that we could rule together. I made us into gods. Was that not enough for you?”
She leans down, her hand caressing the sharp line of his jaw. Their foreheads touch as she whispers, “I only ever needed you.”
She takes a step back and holds out her hand. Sukuna’s eyes widen and he lunges forward, but fiery chains explode out of her palm and wrap around his body. They keep him tightly subdued with no signs of waning.
Sukuna struggles as she steps forward. She lowers him so that her face is level with his. A single ear trickles out of the corner of her eye, disrupting the subtle flecks of gold dusting her cheek.
“I’m sorry, my love.”
She leans forward to capture his lips in a kiss. Slowly, an orange glow spreads from Sukuna’s lips and blossoms across the rest of his face. You and Nanami watch in awe as his entire form is gradually consumed.
“Until we meet again,” Sukuna’s lips curve into an unsettling grin, “my Queen.”
He lets out a growl as the glow visibly intensifies, throwing his head back. The light becomes blinding. You and Nanami shield your eyes but can still feel the thrum of power in the room.
When you uncover your eyes Yuji’s body is slumped on the floor. The tattoos are gone and his face is no longer angled with sharp edges. But you see two small slits beneath his eyes where the extra ones had manifested, scars that he will have to bear for the rest of his life.
Nanami goes to Yuji, propping the boy’s head on his thigh. As Nanami calls Yuji’s name and tries to get him to wake, your gaze trails over to the mysterious woman.
She’s already looking at you. She just emitted a large amount of energy but she doesn’t look fazed in the slightest. Her expression is impassive, voice neutral when she speaks.
“We need to talk.”
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galatially · 8 hours
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this was me writing him the whole time!
❝𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐣𝐨𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — i don't want to just be a passing ship in the night; what's that tradition about the bridal party? the groomsman and the maid of honor always hook up?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 8.4K
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, penetrative sex, anal play, strangers to lovers, wedding shenanigans, groom & maid of honor shenanigans, slow burn, slight angst (it's me lol), honorifics (pretty girl, baby, sweetheart, baby girl)
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — yay for this finally seeing the light of day! and i've been to two weddings now so i can write from experience and i'm excited all over again lol. this also was a behemoth so yay for that
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The warm summer air kissed along the tops of your shoulders, skirting your coils along in its stride. The low hum of smooth jazz played behind you as you took a sip of the wine you’d been nursing for the better part of an hour and let out a breath. 
You heard your name. “There you are!”
Well, shit. 
You playfully groaned and turned to face your older sister, the soon-to-be Mrs. Samuel Wilson. “Damn it! I thought this was the best hiding place!”
Nikki chuckled and bumped her shoulder against yours. “You haven’t won a game of hide and seek against me since you’ve been born. Give it up.” She tipped her chin to the half full wine glass. “Sam said he saw you knock back two flutes of champagne and then you disappeared. You good?”
“Yeah. Well, no.” You shook your head. “I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t worry,” Nikki said, looping her arm through her yours. “You’re one of the best speakers I know.”
“I guess.”
Nikki knitted her brows together. “What’s wrong?”
Your eyes flitted to the lilac sky. “Do you miss them? Mom and Dad?”
“You haven’t asked about them in years.”
You raised a shoulder. “I don’t know. I was just thinking earlier that you’re getting married tomorrow and that they weren’t going to be here. You’d think that they’d remember they have children for more than two seconds, y’know? Their eldest child is getting married, for Christ’s sake!” 
Arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you backward. Though you were several inches taller than your sister, the hugs she gave dwarfed you both. You circled your arms around Nikki’s waist and buried your face in the curve of her shoulder. 
“You’re such a worrier.” Nikki pulled back and put a hand on your cheek. “You are all the family I need to be here. Fuck what anyone else has to say about it.”
“But Sam — ”
“Sam loves me, with or without parents. He knew that coming into this relationship and hasn’t left yet.” Her lips pulled into a half smile. “Besides, who else is going to deal with me post-wedding?”
You gave her a flat look. “Your husband, dumbass.”
“Nope,” Nikki sang. “My loving, favorite baby sister will be.”
“I’m your only sibling, Nik.” You moved out of your sister’s embrace, a smile working its way to your lips. “Now you’re being gooey and that’s gross. We can’t let them know that we actually like each other.”
“Shut up. You love me.” A voice called to her from behind. “I’ll be right there!” She looked back to you. “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah.” You waved her off. “I’ll meet you inside in a bit.” 
“Okay.” Nikki pulled you in for another hug. “Be quick.” She turned and walked to her fiancé’s proffered hand. His gaze found yours for a half a second before he gave her a soft smile. 
You loved Sam; he was the safe harbor that Nikki needed after spending the better part of her teenage and young adult life taking care of you. Of course, Nikki took it all in stride and assured you that she wouldn’t have changed her life for another one. 
But when Sam came into her life, there was someone else to share her burdens with. Someone to confide in with things you couldn’t understand. She found an equal, a man ready to include her in every aspect of his life. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner for Nikki. 
But a part of you — a small, insecure part you often had to force down — felt out of place in their world. You were the kid sister, the child Nikki raised when she was barely older than a child herself. What place would you have in her life once they were married? 
Yes, you’d been on your own for quite a few years since Nikki and Sam met but you always came back home to them. That would all change after Saturday. 
No. 
You were happy, ecstatic. This weekend wasn’t about you and your woes. It was about celebrating two people you loved most in the world. 
Sam called out to you, worry in his tone. 
“Coming!” You took one more look up at the sky before making the trek back to the hotel.
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“Whose side are you from?”
You turned towards the voice beside you, your glass hovering in front of your lips. “Excuse me?”
A few errant black curls poorly masked deep-set and sharp dark eyes that burned into yours. Amused by your response, his lips quirked at the ends. “Are you from the bride’s side or the groom’s?”
“Oh.” You set your glass down. “Maid of honor and sister to the bride.”
Recognition colored his features, his index finger raised to you. “Sam told me about you!” 
Your brows pulled down. “That sounds ominous.” 
“No, no! I mean, they were all good things, I swear! Just —” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m messing this up.”
“Oh, most definitely,” you said, smiling. “But keep going. I want to see where this goes.”
He smiled and leaned in close, giving you a once over. “How about this?” He held up a hand. “My name is Joaquín Torres. My friends call me Joaco. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
A corner of your mouth quirked up as you took his hand and said your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“So is this your first? Wedding, I mean.”
“It is. None of my friends are anywhere near being ready to walk the aisle,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “You?”
His smile was bright as he playfully motioned to himself. It did something to you, prickled your skin and tightened your belly. “I’m a professional groomsman.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I don’t know what it is, but whenever my friends get married, they immediately think of me. I’m pretty sure I went to, like, seven weddings last summer.”
You held up your glass to him. “Impressive. Have you ever been best man?”
Joaquín smiled, his right cheek dimpling. “Not yet.”
“Same here.” You clapped a hand to your face. “I mean, that it’s my first time being maid of honor.” 
He laughed quietly. “You’re fine.”
“Please, talk more so that I can push down my embarrassment.” 
“Okay, uh, where are you coming from?” 
“Technically, I’m visiting from Georgia, but I’m from New York. Brooklyn.”
Joaquín raised a brow. “What’s in Georgia?”
You let out a half-scoff, half-chuckle, your index finger circling the mouth of your glass. “I just got out of a shitty relationship with this guy a few months back, so I impulsively took a remote position in Atlanta.”
“Well, that’s…interesting.”
“I have the lovely tendency to fall in love recklessly and hopelessly.” You took a long sip of your drink. “Even if I know that that person doesn’t feel the same way about me.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Beats being so oblivious that you don’t even notice when people like you and you spend most of your time pining over them just for them to say that they were flirting the whole time.”
“If I were flirting with you, you’d know,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. 
Your name left his tongue in a drawl. “Are you coming onto me?”
Your face warmed. You gave a weak snort. “Yeah, right. Don’t flatter yourself.” Joaquín’s knuckles brushed up against the back of your fingers. You gripped your glass tighter. “So, I guess that means we’re aisle buddies, huh?” 
Aisle buddies? Really?
“We are. I promise not to let you fall.”
You raised a brow. “Did you just quote Twilight to me?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He tipped his chin to your glass. “Rum and Coke?”
“Jack and Coke. They only had spiced rum and I’m not a fan.”
“I love a girl who loves her whiskey.” 
You laughed. “You’d have especially liked me in college, then. I was a whiskey drinking machine.” You splayed your free hand along the top of the bar. “Was even known to dance on a few tables.”
“Now that I’d love to see.”
You knocked back the rest of your drink and put a hand on Joaquín’s knee, a smile creeping onto your lips. You were no stranger to a little harmless flirting every now and again. But here, with this bright, infectious man, your words could mean something headier. Something more…suggestive. “Those days are behind me.” 
“Well now I’m sad that I didn’t get a chance to see you in your prime.”
You rested your chin on your palm, giving him a once over. “We can’t be that far apart in age, can we? You’re, like, twenty-nine at minimum.”
Joaquín leaned closer, his cologne permeating your senses. “I just turned twenty-eight.”
“So, a year older, depending on your birthday,” you quipped, “good to know I’m not the only twenty-something in the wedding party.” 
You went back and forth like this for some time. You shared childhood stories of you and Nikki and he told you stories about his and Sam’s time in university. 
“You don’t peg me as the frat guy type,” you remarked at one point. 
“I get that a lot. I was a freshman by the time Sam and Steve were chapter president and vice president, respectively. ” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle passing his lips. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get in. I bullshitted through the rush questions and barely made it through the challenges but, somehow, I got in.”
You smiled. “And made a new friend as dorky as you are.”
Joaquín laughed. “Sam’s great. I couldn’t have asked for a better frat brother. I was really surprised when he asked me to be one of his groomsmen. I haven’t really kept in touch as well as I wanted to, but it’s been great seeing him and hanging out with him again.”
“That’s sweet. His best man, Steve, is the blond, right?”
He nodded. “They’ve been friends since they were in high school, I think. Their friend, Bucky, is also a groomsman.”
“I practically begged Nikki to have one of her friends or her sorors be her maid of honor and she looked at me like I was crazy.”
“Sam said that she basically raised you.”
You shook your head, chuckling. “He’s such a sweetheart. Our parents are narcissists, to put it plainly. They love each other fine, but they couldn’t extend that to us. At first, it was just leaving an eight year old Nikki in charge of a two year old for a couple hours every other week. Then, they wouldn’t come home some days. 
“Nikki made the best of it, though. She’d make sure that I never realized how bad things were until I was old enough to understand. By then, we were living with our grandmother and she finally got to be a teenager, you know?” You dabbed at your eyes. “She took it harder than I did. She knew our parents longer so them leaving hurt her more than it ever could me.”
“I’m sorry.” Joaquín put a hand on your elbow. “Your parents don’t deserve either one of you.”
You waved him off. “I know. I’m just glad that she gets her own happiness for once. Sam’s a good guy.” You gave a light shrug. “And he likes me for some reason which makes me question his sanity.”
“I’ve only known you for,” he glanced at his wristwatch, “a little over two hours and I like you.”
“You barely know me enough to say that you like me.”
“So let me get to know you, then. We have all weekend, don’t we?”
The DJ announced last call and you both locked gazes. Gooseflesh spread along your arms and your heart beat against your chest. Your hand was still above his knee, fingers splayed out wide. Your eyes were on him but focused on hazy thoughts in your head. What would his lips feel like if you touched the very tip of your finger against them? Your lips?
He was probably a great kisser. Dominant, needy —
“Hey.”
You blinked and snatched your hand away. “Sorry! I, uh — just a little tipsy, I guess.”
Joaquín smiled. “It’s fine. I was saying that it was getting late and I could walk you up to your room.”
“No, I’m good. The walk should sober me up some.” You stood up. “It was nice meeting you, Joaquín Torres.”
“You, too. I’ll be the best aisle buddy you’ve ever had.” 
“You’re going to hold that against me all weekend, aren’t you?”
He ran a hand through his curls. “I’m going to run it into the ground.”
You rolled your eyes, a small smile creeping up on your lips, and turned on your heel to leave.
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Despite being a tad bit hungover, you were still fairly refreshed.
You couldn’t stop thinking about Joaquín, your mind making him a feature in a hazy dream you half-remembered. There was a genuineness to him that you admired, a warmth that you wanted bask in for a long time. The way that he gave you his undivided attention as you rambled or even when you weren’t speaking made your heart flutter in your chest.
What was that saying about the bridal party and groomsmen at weddings? 
“Nice to see you again, aisle buddy.”
Speak of the Devil. 
Your lips quirked. “Good morning, Mr. Torres.”
He ran a hand through his already tousled hair. Unlike the slicked back style from last night, the longer part of his hair was set in loose curls and fell in his eyes. The barest hint of a five o’ clock shadow lined his angular cheeks and jaw. He was so damn attractive. So unfair. 
“How did you sleep?”
“Very well, thank you.” He gave you a warm smile. “And yourself?”
You hummed as you lifted your shoulders in a shrug. “Pretty good.” You pointed a thumb over your shoulder. “Did you see the omelet bar the hotel has going?”
“I did. I got a veggie omelet and turkey bacon.” He held up his coffee mug. “Did you get any coffee? They said it’s Colombian.”
You shook your head and nodded to your teacup. “I’m weaning myself off of caffeine.” You tipped your chin towards the slip of paper beside his plate. “Is that the itinerary Nikki slid under everyone’s doors?”
“It is. On today’s agenda: ballroom dancing from noon to one; walking tour of the church from one-thirty to two-fifteen; the bridal party and the groomsmen go to their final fittings at three-thirty.” He shook his head and chuckled. “She’s efficient, your sister.”
“She’s been planning this day since she, like, was eleven.” You took a piece of turkey bacon from Joaquín’s plate. You didn’t react to the flit of his gaze as he watched you bring the food to your lips. You chewed slowly, innocently, your eyes on his. 
The faintest hint of a smirk played at his lips. “You enjoying that bacon, sweetheart?”
“Very much.” You licked your lips and threw him a bright smile. “You should ask Nikki her about her wedding binder. She started making it when she was in middle school and finished it before my junior year of high school.”
“Sounds like my cousin, Luisa.” Joaquín playfully groaned. “When she was thirteen, she and my mother spent an entire Sunday afternoon cutting out pictures from bridal and travel magazines and doodling in the margins about her perfect wedding when she got older.”
“That’s adorable.”
“So what about you? Any wedding binders stashed in an old bedroom somewhere?”
“I haven’t put much thought into getting married. I mean, I guess sometime down the line I’d like to get married but maybe not, you know? Maybe I’m not the settling down type.” You lifted a shoulder and looked to Joaquín. “What about you? Is there someone back home you’re ready to settle down with?”
“I don’t know about that but there is someone that I’d love to get to know better.”
You playfully bumped your elbow with his. “Do they have a name?”
Joaquín gave a conspiratorial grin as he raised his mug to his lips. “I’ll tell you later.”
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Sam called out to you, cackling. “Lookin’ good out there!”
“Fuck off, Wilson!” 
You turned back to Joaquín, rolling your eyes as the dance instructor yelled for you to loosen up. When you stepped on his foot for the third time, you winced. “Sorry!”
He chuckled as he gave your hips a reassuring squeeze. “You’re fine, Y/N. Just breathe.”
You nodded, your eyes going back to your feet. You don’t know how many months you spent begging your sister to take you out of the dance portion of the reception. Even as children, you were so awkward that you didn’t dare try to mimic the fluid rhythms your sister and cousins displayed. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to switch partners?” You nodded towards one of your sister’s sorority sisters. “Paula is a much better dancer and she’s really funny.”
Joaquín threw his head back and laughed. “I’m sure she’s great but you’ve charmed me from the moment you very brazenly flirted with me at the bar. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”
You snorted, small smile growing in the curves of your mouth. “Shut up. You flirted with me first.” 
“There’s that smile.” His fingers tapped your waist. “Follow my lead, okay? I’ve got you.”
The instructor clapped out another eight count and Joaquín swept you off of your feet, literally and figuratively. You beamed as you both glided across the floor, amazed that you hadn’t stopped the beautiful flow he was creating. 
“See? You’re a natural,” he said, pride in his tone. 
His warm gaze took the breath from your lungs so all you could do was nod. 
“All right, class!” The instructor clapped their hands. “That’s all for today! Great job!” They nodded to you and Joaquín. “Especially from you two.” 
Your face burned as your sister and her friends cheered. 
You turned to Joaquín. “You’re a saint, you know that?”
He waved off your words. “You’re not as bad as you think you are. Just got to let those nerves go.” He leaned in closer. “Did you want to grab lunch? There’s a little bistro near the hotel that I wanted to try. “
Nikki appeared suddenly, smiling at Joaquín. “You don’t mind me stealing your partner, do you?”
“Nikki — ”
“Don’t keep her away too long.” He’d said the words so casually, so easy. Like he’d been asked about the weather or what sports team he rooted for. “She still hasn’t told me more about her whiskey weekends.”
Your face warmed as your sister’s wide brown eyes found yours. “Whiskey weekends, huh?”
You ignored her, your eyes on him. “How about dinner instead? Seven okay?”
Joaquín’s cheeks dimpled as he smiled. “Seven is perfect.” He nodded to your sister. “She’s all yours, boss.”
“Bye, Joaquín.”
You grabbed Nikki’s wrist and dragged her towards the exit, her laugh echoing throughout the studio. When you reached the parking lot, you fixed her with a glare. “What the hell was that!”
She feigned surprise. “What?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She crossed her arms. “Joaco and I are —”
“So, it’s Joaco, now?” You groaned. “C’mon, anybody would have to blind to not see the way you two look at each other! He’s hot, you’re hot. What’s the problem?”
“Not the point,” you deadpanned. “I barely know him. We probably won’t even see each other after the wedding so what’s the point starting something we won’t finish?”
“Who says you won’t finish it? You literally told me last week that you were thinking of moving back.”
“He lives in the city?”
Nikki frowned. “Did he not tell you that? He and Sam work together. He used to live in Arizona but when Sam and Steve asked if he wanted to go into business with them, he relocated.”
That changed things. It had been easier to imagine a torrid coupling that ended with you never crossing paths again, but if he’d be living in the city — working with Sam, whose company wasn’t that far from where you lived — made your belly clench. 
“Huh.”
“Is that a ‘huh, I should listen to my sister for once and ask out the hot best man’ or ‘huh, I’m about to overthink everything because now said best man is going to be close’?”
You flattened your features. “You’re so funny.”
A shit-eating grin stretched across Nikki’s face. “And brilliant and all-knowing. Don’t forget that.” Her smile fell some and she gave you a solemn look. “You know I’m just messing with you, right?”
“I know.”
“Hey.” She put a hand to your cheek. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows canted. “Do what?”
“Make that face,” she gestured with her hands, “and start thinking that something’s wrong with you.”
“Isn’t there? I was with Dante for, what, six months? He’s probably the longest relationship I’ve ever had and I hated every second of it.” You pressed the heel of your palm against your forehead. “Maybe I’m not built for forever, y’know?”
Nikki gathered you into her arms. “You’re nothing like them, do you hear me?” 
“Maybe I am, Nik. Maybe all I want is the idea of someone but not the person themselves. I don’t want to do that to Joaquín. He’s so sweet and funny and I’m just —” 
She pulled back, a smile on her lips. “You have so much love and care to give and anyone would be lucky to get to be loved by you.”
The corner of your mouth lifted. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m your sister, I don’t have to spare your feelings. But should anything go awry, I’ll be there to protect you and help pick up the pieces.” She held up her pinky finger. “Swear.”
You chuckled and looped your finger around hers. “Swear.”
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“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
Nikki had insisted on taking you shopping for a new outfit and you’d decided on a beautiful, form-fitting brown satin dress that stopped just above your knees and brown chunky platform heels. You kept your makeup fairly neutral and let your curls frame your face and hang down your shoulders and back. Around your neck were a simple gold necklace stack and gold rings adorned your fingers. 
“I’m pretty sure you’ve built my ego tenfold.” Your eyes glanced around the restaurant. “You didn’t say how nice this place was. We could’ve gone somewhere cheaper.”
A wolfish grin curled at the corners of Joaquín’s mouth. “How was I supposed to impress you if I just took you out to a drive-thru?”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Chivalry doesn’t die just because you took me to Wendy’s. But thank you for asking me out.”
“I’m surprised you said yes, honestly.” You scoffed. “Hand to God! You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know about that. You and Sam must work with some pretty cool clients at the firm.”
“You’re infinitely cooler, sweetheart. Trust me.”
You pushed down the elation at hearing the pet name and set the menu down. “Tell me about yourself.”
He leaned in close. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?”
“No siblings. My dad owns a mechanic shop and my mom and aunt run a small restaurant in Phoenix. I was born in Sonoita, Arizona, this tiny place with less than a thousand people.” 
“Coming to the city must’ve been a culture shock.”
Joaquín chuckled. “Hit me like a fuckin’ brick, let me tell you.”
“So, how’d you meet back up with Sam? I remember you saying that you lost touch after college.”
“After university, I applied to, maybe, fifty positions with over a hundred different corporate firms and I was striking out left and right. Sam messaged me on Instagram a little while later asking to catch up. When he first asked me to join his firm, I tuned him down.”
“Why?”
He lifted his shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Sam. He’s one of the best guys I know. But I didn’t want him to just give me a job, y’know?”
You nodded. “That’s fair but I don’t see Sam as being the type to hand out opportunities to just anyone. If he offered you a position, it’s because he believes in you.”
Joaquín smiled. “I suppose so.” 
Your server came back with your drink orders. He smiled at you, his notepad in hand. “And are we ready to order? We have a butternut squash risotto as one of our specials, if you’re interested.”
“That actually sounds delicious.” You looked to Joaquín. “Is it okay if I get that?”
“You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks burned and you, thankfully, didn’t stumble over reciting your order. As Joaquín spoke to the server, you couldn’t help giving him a once over. He wore a navy blue dress shirt that looked painted on, the top three buttons undone. His curls were messily styled and falling in his eyes. His face was clean-shaven save for his goatee and mustache. His big hands were adorned with silver rings. Much like the first night you met, your mouth watered at the thought of those hands on you. How rough or soft they’d feel against your skin. 
His gaze found yours and he winked at you. You needed him carnally. 
“I think he likes you.”
Your brows pulled down. “What?”
“Our server. He hasn’t stopped looking at you since we got here.” He chuckled. “I can’t blame him.”
“You’re doing it again.”
He raised a brow. “Doing what?”
“Flirting with me,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “Keep doing that and I’ll get the wrong idea.”
“Maybe it’s not the wrong idea. Maybe it’s right.”
“Look, Joaquín, I don’t know if it’s because of the wedding or if this is one of those rom-com scenarios, but I like you. A lot. But I’ve never been good at relationships and I don’t want to ruin whatever this is before it even gets off the ground.”
He put a hand over one of yours. “I’m willing to go as fast or as slow as you want to.”
“And what if you get tired of waiting for me?”
“How about we just get through dinner first, then the wedding, and we’ll meet each other in the middle?” Your food was sat down in front of you but his hand never left the top of yours. “If after this weekend, you don’t want to keep in touch, I won’t be upset.” He cocked his head to the side. “Okay, I might be a little upset but I’ll respect your decision.”
You nodded, a small smile pulling at your lips. “I can do that.”
“Good.” He leaned back into his seat and picked up his fork, his eyes still on you. “Now, I have an important question to ask you.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Okay…”
“Do you like scary movies?”
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“What’re you reading?”
You ducked your head between the pages of your book. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that!” 
“Sorry. I thought you heard me coming up behind you.” Joaquín tapped the top of your bare knee with a callused finger. “Must be quite an engrossing read.”
“Something like that.” You slid your glasses to the top of your head. “What are you doing up so late?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m a bit of an insomniac. What about you?”
“Nerves.” You held your book up. “Figured I’d finish this book I found in my room.”
“Verdict?”
“I should’ve just gotten a drink at the bar before they closed,” you said, snorting. 
“We can crack open a bottle in my room if you want.”
You raised a brow. “You raid the mini bars at hotels?”
“God, no! That’s a scam waiting to happen.” A smile grew along his lips. “I bring my own poison.”
You raised a brow. “What kind of alcohol are we talking?”
Joaquín leaned in towards you, his voice low and husky. “I’m a whiskey man.”
God, you could get lost in his eyes. Where most people would leer at you or completely ignore you, Joaquín seemed to be looking to the very soul of you. You could’ve told him anything and everything, given him whatever he wanted. 
“And I think I have snacks from my plane ride here.”
You doggy eared your book page and stood to your feet. “Lead the way.”
Joaquín looped his arm through yours and led you down the hallway towards the main lobby. You both must have looked silly to passerby: both of you in pajamas, giggling like teenagers. You caught the elevator just as two people got off and you pressed the seven button. 
Once the doors closed, a tension filled the car. Every so often, one of you would shift your weight and the backs of your hands would brush against each other, both of you muttering hushed apologies to each other. 
Hazy, heated thoughts ran rampant in your mind. Out of your peripheral, you saw Joaquín leaned up against the railing on the right side of the car. Everything about him just oozed sexy: from the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and biceps, to how perfectly his curls fell in his eyes before he pushed it back with one of his strong hands. 
His hands. God, his hands. 
You shifted your weight again, discreetly rubbing her thighs together to diffuse the tension between your legs. The elevator music suddenly seemed louder and deafening. 
“…okay?”
You blinked and turned to Joaquín. He was in front of you now, his hands reaching for you but not quite touching you. Worry painted his features.
“What?”
“We’re on our floor.” His eyes skimmed your face. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, an apologetic smile on your lips. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.” You cleared your throat and stepped past him out of the elevator. The heat from his body laved against your back. You started towards the left before you turned to look at him over your shoulder. 
“I don’t know where your room is,” you said, your voice small.
Joaquín took one of your wrists in his hand and said, “I’ve got you.”
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You decided that you loved the way Joaquín laughed. 
His eyes crinkled at the sides as he clutched his sides. Sometimes a small snort would pass his lips and it made him laugh even harder. He looked boyish, gentle. 
You were sat in the middle of his hotel room floor, the bottle of Jack Daniels between the two of you and the TV turned low in the background. You’d just told him about your first encounter with the Chuck E. Cheese mascot and how the poor then teenager got a swift kick to the groin by an eight year old. 
“God, that was great.” He dabbed at the corners of his eyes. “Do you make everyone you drink with laugh this much?”
You knocked back the last of your glass. “Not intentionally.”
“Funny and beautiful,” Joaquín said, toasting to you. “One of my favorite combinations.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“I only want one to believe me.”
“I want to try something. Is that okay?” He nodded. “I need you to say it out loud.”
“Yes.”
You crawled towards him and experimentally straddled him, your hands on his shoulders. Your heart was pounding and you were getting lightheaded but you held your resolve. “Kiss me.”
One of his hands cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for a slow, hard kiss. His tongue laved the inside of your mouth and you moaned. Your fingers carded through his curls, pulling him closer to you. Teeth clanged against each other as lips were pulled between them, soft moans spilling into the silent void around you both. 
Joaquín pulled back. “I’ve been wanting to do that since that first night in the bar.”
You smiled. “Me, too.” Your eyes found the digital clock over his shoulder. “It’s late. I should go.”
“No,” he whined, caging you against his chest. “Stay.”
You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. “I can’t. Not tonight.”
His brown eyes brightened. “So tomorrow night?”
“Maybe. If you behave.” You disentangled yourself from his embrace and stood to your feet. “Goodnight, Mr. Torres.”
“See you in the morning.”
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The morning of the wedding started slower than you thought it would have. 
You had been sitting in the makeup chair for ten minutes, waiting for Nikki to emerge from behind the folding screen set up in the middle of the room. The bridesmaids were getting ready in the suite next door and you and Nikki shared this suite. 
“You look beautiful.”
You turned and saw Nikki; her dress was beautiful: the sleeves were delicate lace and looked beautiful against her brown skin. The back of the dress plunged low and fed into the skirt that trailed behind her. She decided to keep her makeup and hair simple with a natural look and her coils swept up into a polished bun. 
You blinked furiously. “You look so beautiful but if I cry, I’m sure the makeup artist will murder me.”
Nikki chuckled. “Me? You look stunning.”
“Compared to you, I look like Ernie from Sesame Street.”
She rolled her eyes. “Take the compliment, you goof.”
You stood up from your chair and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too.” Nikki pulled back, her eyes misty. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.” You snorted.  “I’m serious! You might not think it, but you’ve been a huge inspiration to me.”
“Bullshit.”
Nikki laughed. “Remember when we went camping that one summer? With Granny and her boyfriend, Alvin?”
You nodded. “We went hiking while they were taking a nap and got lost.” You had wanted to go find a creek that you’d passed on the way to your camping spot. 
“You were, what, nine? Ten?”
“I was eight and a half,” you said, smirking. 
“We’d gotten lost and I got so scared. I started crying and I think I said Mom’s name.”  Nikki shook her head. “I was crying and tired and the last thing I wanted was to keep getting lost.
“But then you bent down and wiped my tears away. You were barely nine years old and you made sure that I was okay before we finally found a park ranger.” She put a hand to your cheek. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
“I said that we would always have each other. No matter what.”
Nikki nodded. “I know that our childhood was less than ideal, shitty at best. I know that outside of Granny, all we had was each other and that made our relationship a little more complicated than other siblings. But there’s not a day that goes by when I’m not in total awe of you.”
“Oh, yeah, my impulsivity and lacking love life are aspirational.”
“You’re one of the strongest people  I know,” she rebutted. “As much as I raised you, you raised me, too. You taught me about passion and determination. You’ve made me think outside of the box and go after things that I want. You showed me what being a kid was and how we shouldn’t want to grow up too fast. Anything I learned about self-love and confidence, I got from you.”
You tilted your head back. “The makeup artist had me in the chair for forty minutes, Nikki! I can’t cry off all of her hard work!”
She pulled you into a hug. “No matter what happens, no matter what stages of life we’re in, it’s always going to be us against the world. Don’t ever doubt that.”
You nodded against her shoulder. “I love you, Nikki.”
“I love you, too.”
A knock came upon the door and the wedding planner, Natasha, poked her head in. “It’s time, you guys.” A warm smile crossed her lips. “You both look gorgeous, truly.”
“Thank you,” Nikki said. She squared her shoulders and looped her arm with her yours. “We’re ready.”
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You were all too aware of Joaquín’s presence beside you. 
It didn’t help that he looked downright sinful in his suit. Did he paint the damn thing on or did it just fit him too well? His hair was artfully messy, curls falling in his eyes. His knuckles brushed up against yours a few times, so soft you’d thought you imagined the contact. 
“You’re killing me,” he said against your ear. 
You arched a brow. “What?”
“It’s taking all of my self-control not to whisk you off to the church basement and have my way with you.” His voice was rough. “Remind me to personally thank your sister for choosing the dress.”
A triumphant smirk colored your lips. “Noted.”
The organ kicked up and Joaquín turned to face you. “Ready?” He held out his arm.
You nodded and looped your arm through his. The ushers opened the doors and you were met with the guests and white rose covered aisle. As you waited for the second to last pair of the wedding party to head down the aisle, Joaquín leaned in towards you again, his breath laving the shell of your ear.
“I won’t let you fall.”
The couple in front of you started down the aisle and you gripped onto Joaquín’s arm tighter. Once the others were further up the aisle, he took a step forward and you followed. Every few steps, you stole glances at him, your breath catching. Once you were at the foot of the altar, he held his arm up for you to stand beside the other bridesmaids and he crossed over to the groom’s side. 
“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this lovely couple.”
Joaquín caught your eye as the pastor continued his speech. His happiness shone so bright on his face that you couldn’t help but mirror it. You like the rest of the crowd, were brought to tears by the Sam and Nikki’s vows and cheered like sports fans when they kissed as man and wife. 
As they were about to step down from the altar, Nikki pulled you into a crushing hug. She whispered teary thank-yous and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
“I love you. So much.”
You looked over your sister’s shoulder to your newly minted brother-in-law. “See you for dinner in two weeks?”
Sam smiled and took hold of your wrist. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
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You needed an out. Quickly. 
Your speech at the reception had most of the room in tears and a few of the wedding party members congratulated you off to the side. When it was time for the waltz, the tension between you and Joaquín was smoldering and all-consuming. All you could think about was his lips on yours. 
Before Sam and Nikki made their way to the middle of the dance floor, Joaquín whispered in your ear, “You have two hours.”
“For what?”
“Until you’re mine for the rest of the night.” The noise that left your throat was suffocated by the cheers and applauds for the bride and groom but you knew that he heard it. He moved to go sit at his table before you could get the words off of your tongue. 
You kept up appearances as well as you could but during lapses in conversation, your attention wandered to Joaquín. He teased you, subtly biting and licking his lips or giving you quick once overs as he spoke to some distant relative of yours. 
Nikki and Sam gave were basking in their marital bliss and, thankfully, didn’t notice the two of you shamelessly flirting from across the ballroom. 
The evening died down and Joaquín offered to walk you back to your room. You agreed, ignoring the teases from Nikki and Sam, and let him lead you out of the ballroom. Once the elevator doors closed, his hands were on your skin. Hot, open-mouthed kisses scorched the curve of your neck and shoulders. Hands buried themselves into your hair, holding you firm against the man in front of you. 
You didn’t remember how you’d gotten to his floor without bumping into other guests or falling over each other, but you did. The beep of Joaquín’s keycard unlocking the suite door made your heartbeat kick up. 
“That dress is sinful on you, you know that?” 
“Wait, wait.” You pulled back. “Help me out of this dress. It cost a fucking fortune.”
“My pleasure.” His fingers deftly worked at the buttons on the back of your dress. Once the garment loosened against your shoulders, his fingers hooked around the straps and slid them down slow. Soft kisses peppered along the back of your shoulders. “Such soft skin you have.” 
You leaned into his touch, a soft groan falling from your lips. Cool air gave your skin gooseflesh and you shuddered. Your dress pooled around your ankles and you were clad only in your lingerie. You smirked at his sharp inhale. To know that someone as gorgeous as Joaquín Torres was taken aback at the sight of your half-naked body emboldened you. 
You tipped your chin. “Kiss me.”
He took your face in his hands and leaned in. His lips hovered over yours, barely skimming the flesh. He was teasing you, you knew that. What you wouldn’t have given to just melt into his touch and be the first to kiss him. But you cut your gaze between his lips and his eyes, silently daring him to make the move. 
He chuckled. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”
You ran your thumb along the length of his hand. “Determined, actually.”
“You know that you could kiss me first.”
You let out a breathy sigh. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Joaquín smirked and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. His tongue laved across the top of yours and his moans vibrated through you. His hands brought your face closer and deepened the kiss. “Jesus, doll, you taste like heaven.”
You rested your forehead against his to catch your breath. You tried to think of something to say, anything to say, but your mind was fogged from kissing him. 
He moved you towards the bed and laid you down, kneeling in between your thighs. “I want to taste you.”
You shivered at his words. “Do you?”
One of Joaquín’s hands skimmed a languid trail between the valley of your breasts. His fingertips danced a trail along the soft expanse of your torso, earning him soft gasps and caught sighs. When his fingertips hovered above the waistband of your underwear, his brown eyes met yours again. “Or perhaps I should tease you? Make you beg?”
“I don’t beg.” Your voice was breathy, weak, as you spoke. 
“Where’s the fun in that?” He was mocking you, teasing just as you’d done to him moments earlier. His fingers dipped below the elastic, tip-toeing across the top of your pubic mound. Your hips bucked and his lips split into a cocky grin. 
“My, my, aren’t we eager?” The very tip of his middle finger hovered above your clitoral hood, tracing a half-circle along the skin. Joaquín looped an arm around your waist to keep you balanced and made slow, teasing circles against your clit. 
You screwed your eyes shut and sank your teeth into your bottom lip. A moan threatened to pass your lips but you stifled it. Your fists balled against Joaquín’s shoulders as ripples of pleasure surged through you. “Joaco.” 
“I can get used to you calling me that.” His lips trailed along the curve of your jaw. “I bet you’re all wet for me, aren’t you?” Two fingers entered your sex and made a come hither motion. A shock of pleasure rocked you and you let out a moan. “Love how wet you are for me.”
You tried to speak his name but garbled moans left your tongue instead. A warm slickness played at your clit and you let out a cry. 
“You taste so sweet, darlin’,” he said against you. “Bet I can make you come all over my tongue.” 
Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in wild pleasure as Joaquín ate your pussy like it was his favorite meal. Your toes curled against his back and your thighs all but crushed him against you. 
“Fuck, Joaquín, don’t stop!”
He moaned against your sex, the sound of your wetness and his tongue lapping bounced off of the walls. He lifted up and smiled a devilish smile at you. “Such a good girl getting wet for me like this. Making such a pretty mess.” He nipped at your inner thigh and kissed the bruises he left behind. His thick fingers gathered some of your juices and traveled down to play at your asshole. He groaned at how pretty and puckered it was. “Such a pretty little hole.”
One of his digits pushed against the puckered hole and your back arched up again and a throaty moan left your mouth. 
“Fuck!”
“You like that, darlin’? Like when I play with your ass?” He worked his finger further into you and another cry broke from your lips. “Your pretty pussy is weeping. Do you play with your asshole when you’re alone, baby girl?” He kissed up your body, lips latching onto one of your pert nipples. 
You fisted the sheets and bucked your hips as Joaquín stretched and finger fucked your ass. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes and broken cries of his name filled the room. For a second, you remembered you were in a hotel room and that whoever was in the rooms opposite them could hear you getting absolutely destroyed.
Hope they’re enjoying the show, then.
Your belly tightened and your legs shook as your orgasm rushed through you. A broken sob ripped through you and you flattened on the bed, shivering and sweat-slicked. Joaquín’s fingers left your ass and he slanted his mouth over yours.
“Oh, my pretty girl.” He pushed away tendrils of curls that were stuck to your forehead. “How did I get so lucky to find you?”
You gave a weak chuckle. “You’re one of my brother-in-law’s best friends. The cosmos saw something in you. Take your pick.” You heard the clicking of his belt buckle and your mouth watered. 
“Think you can play a little longer, baby?” He lined himself up with your pussy. “Because I’ve been waiting to feel you around my cock for the past twenty-something hours.”
A wicked glint flashed in your brown eyes. “What are you waiting for, then, Torres?”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He lined the head of his cock with your pussy and sank deep inside of you. You threw your head back in pleasure as your walls fluttered around him. 
“You’re real fuckin’ tight, honey. Feels so good.”
Your nails bit into his shoulders as you bucked your hips into his. “Fuck me, Joaco.” 
His hips moved against yours slow at first. He circled his hips and thrusted in and out of you at a torturous pace. He snickered at your needy whines and mewls. “Such a greedy pussy you have.” His hips snapped against yours and you gasped. “Makes me think nobody treats your pretty pussy like they should. Is that what it is, baby?”
Your head lolled from side to side and your words faded into moans. Then, his hips rutted into you at a brutal pace and a swelling orgasm built in your belly. Spots darkened your sight and one of your hands fisted his hair. “I’m going to cum!”
Joaquín took his lips from the hollow of your neck. “I’m almost there, baby, hold on.” He pressed his forehead against yours and rutted harder into you. When his thrusts got sloppier, he let out a groan and you felt his cock twitch inside of you as you chased after your own climax. 
He collapsed on top of you, hard pants mixing with soft chuckles. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to the apex of your collarbones. “Nikki said something about you moving back to the city.”
You hummed. “She told me that you were planning to stay in the city.” 
“I technically moved back a few weeks ago. I haven’t told Sam or Steve yet.”
You brushed a few curls from his sweat-damp forehead. “I might need a place to crash for a few days until my stuff arrives.”
One of his hands gripped your ass, softly kneading the skin. “Or you could stay for as long as you want and we could see where this goes.” 
“You’re sure?”
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ve never been more sure about anything else. I meant it when I said that I think you’re incredible. If I can keep you with me for as long as I can, I will.”
You smiled. “Okay.”
“Seriously?” He cupped your cheek, your name a light chuckle on his tongue. “You want to try with me?”
As you opened your mouth to answer, a knock came upon the door. Joaquín groaned and rested his head against your shoulder. “It’s probably a noise complaint.”
“You go answer, then. It was mostly you.” You smacked him in the face with a pillow. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up!” You let out a low whistle as he padded across the room, completely naked, and went to open the door. You couldn’t hear who the other voice was but you figured it wasn’t serious from Joaquín’s belly laugh. 
“Who is it?”
He shut the door and came back into view, your sister’s bouquet in his left hand. “I don’t know if I should laugh or be offended.”
You rolled your eyes. “They think they’re so funny.”
“I don’t know, baby, maybe we’ll be next.” Joaquín set the bouquet on the nightstand and climbed back into bed, pulling you against him. “I think we’d make a great married couple.”
“Let’s get through me staying with you before we jump straight to marriage, Casanova.”
“You didn’t say no.”
You smiled. “We’ll discuss it.”
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𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — not gon' hold y'all, this made me fall in love with joaco something fucking fierce
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galatially · 11 hours
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₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
nomad steve is a big fat fuckin MUNCH. idc idc idc. nobody can change my mind. that man eats pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner. he is STARVED.
you wake up? his head is in between your thighs. your working? he wants you to sit on his face while you do it. your doing the dishes? best believe that man is on his knees tongue deep inside your pussy desperate to have you cream all over his face. making comments like
“you just looked so good baby i couldn’t help it, had to get a taste of you”
“you like it when daddy sucks on your clit while you finish your chores? yeah? fuckin dirty girl”
“fuck honey, cum in daddy’s mouth, come on give it to me”
“pussy tastes like fuckin heaven”
one thing he does not stand for is hovering. when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit on it. he’ll be grabbing your hips, pulling you down onto his face, his rough beard rubbing against your thighs while his tongue explores your dripping heat and you know damn well he eats it in the morning so he can smell your pussy on his facial hair during the day, his tongue darting out to lick over his moustache, savouring the taste of your juices.
your spread missionary as he suckles and nibbles on your clit, his fingers fucking into you at a desperate pace, missing the taste of your cream even though he’s already had you twice today, his mouth opening wide as you writhe and squirt on his tongue, watching him as he moans and grunts, his hips rocking into the mattress beneath him as he fills his boxers with hot n sticky ropes of cum
“jesus christ” he breathes, “got me cumming in my pants like a damn teenager sweet girl, thats how fuckin good your pussy tastes.”
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
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galatially · 13 hours
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Broke:
Belle has Stockholm syndrome because she falls in love with the Beast, her kidnapper.
Woke:
Stockholm syndrome was coined to slander a woman who had been in a hostage situation but openly criticized the poor police response which recklessly put her in more danger and escalated the violence. She was then belittled and discredited publically by the police for this.
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So. Yeah. Maybe Belle does have Stockholm syndrome actually.
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galatially · 15 hours
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The thought of you fucking me hard into the mattress... all of your weight pinning me down and the headboard slamming against the wall as you thrust deep inside of me. Your lips against my neck, marking me with open-mouthed kisses and stark hickies. The low, possessive growl of your voice in my ear when I drag my fingernails down your back and leave blooming pink lines in their wake.
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galatially · 1 day
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Soul food, AAVE, black fraternities and sororities, HBCUs, soul line dances, hip-hop/r&b/funk/folk/blues/basically all genres of music, and so much more wouldn’t exist without the enslaved Africans (and their descendants) who made the most out of what they had. It’s a total slap in the face for anyone to pretend otherwise.
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galatially · 1 day
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Date idea:
Smoking a joint with you on my lap and scrolling through your likes on tumblr , making you read them out loud as you grind against my thigh until i’m done then picking the most humiliating one to degrade you about while I finger your wet cunt for hours.
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galatially · 1 day
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You can never go back.
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galatially · 1 day
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"This person has a secret onlyfans!" "This artist does NSFW commissions!" "This author writes porn on the side!" I cannot begin to tell you how swag and awesome that is.
60K notes · View notes
galatially · 2 days
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wdym u don’t like missionary. we can kiss AND hold hands while fucking. do u even believe in love???
6K notes · View notes
galatially · 2 days
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intersectional feminism leaving peoples brains when you tell them black women dont benefit from everything that empowers white women
6K notes · View notes
galatially · 2 days
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Everyone's all "i'll fuck your dad" until they realize that means they'd have to fuck someone over 40. and those people are weak.
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galatially · 2 days
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hey so like
hi, you. yeah im talking to you. You like my stuff from time to time and reblog once and a while, and I always recognize you in my notes. we’ve never talked, maybe you dont like to say much or you’re nervous or something. it’s okay, whatever it is. 
I see you. you mean a lot to me. sometimes when I’m having a hard day, I’ll notice your name once again in my notifs and it makes me smile. im not kidding.
I don’t care if you’re a “ghost” follower or you send me asks all the time. i see you and I love you so much, genuinely and truly. you are really important to me. 
thank you. thank you for being there. <3
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galatially · 2 days
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love a girl who talks too much where is your podcast queen
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galatially · 2 days
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warm bread with butter. reblog if you Agree
23K notes · View notes
galatially · 3 days
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two things:
i fucking love mcfly and this song so you had me there
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So Hold Me Close and Say Three Words | bungalow!Robert "Bob" Floyd
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PART OF THE BIG WINDOWS, SMALL KITCHEN UNIVERSE
Summary: There's only one thing that can get your boyfriend's mind off the horrible popcorn ceiling.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ as always, cockwarming, pet name Honey, title is from McFly's "All About You"
A Note From Mo: Welcome to bungalow!Bob! A dash of acts of service, a sprinkle of a condescension kink, and a whole lot of extremely loving boyfriend. Live-in boyfriend Bob is my biggest indulgence so no one look at me, I'm fragile.
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He’s been planted in the big easy chair all morning, staring up at the last project on his list before the kitchen, and sighing. Dragging long fingers through wild hair as his eyes take in the wide expanse of the living room. 
His arch nemesis: the popcorn ceiling.
The little dipples and spikes of joint compound taunt him daily. A major contrast to the rest of the bungalow, all smooth ceilings with stunning walnut beams - one major selling point of the property. And while the previous owner did a great job with the addition bringing in natural light with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the backyard, he was off his rocker for choosing popcorn ceilings. 
Bob hasn’t hate anyone more than the previous owner. Well, maybe the neighbor across the street who stops by a little too much.
Before he moved in, Bob barely noticed any features of the sweet green bungalow you owned. The majority of his time here was spent in the bedroom between your thighs. But the switch flipped that first weekend after he moved his shoebox apartment in. Lounging on the sectional, girl on his chest, book in hand, and one look up at the world’s ugliest ceiling. 
He had to fix it. You deserve your dream house and it was his mission to give it to you. 
The line between his brows is adorable as he mutters something rude at the drywall.
“Bobby, babe, it’s just a ceiling.”
Those wide cornflower blue eyes blink at you, as if noticing for the first time you’re also sitting in the sun-drenched living room enjoying your coffee.
“It’s an ugly ceiling.”
You can’t help but giggle at the disgust in his tone. “It’s not that bad, I don’t notice.”
Your sweet boyfriend just rolls his eyes and leans back, side-eyeing the offending design choice. 
Peering over the edge of your mug, you admire the way the mid-morning sunlight streams through his hair, highlighting it copper. His sweats hang low on his hips, underwear forgotten, black shirt slightly too small with how much he’s filled out with all the manual labor fixing up the house. 
While not the main reason you asked him to move in, pajama Robert Floyd is a high perk of the situation.
The scowl on his face isn’t quite as endearing. Your heart hurts knowing how frustrated he is by the ceiling. He loves you. He loves this house. It’s too much pressure on him wanting to make it perfect.
Ever since he permanently parked his truck in the driveway, Bobby’s been nothing but generous. He sees the charm and coziness of the bungalow, but also the repairs and fixes you’re too busy for. His entire leave was spent weeding the backyard, and your skin still heats remembering his muscles bulging after carrying the pile of boxes from the garage to the attic. 
While you won’t satiate your boyfriend by allowing him to drop cloth the living room and scrape every dimple of drywall off the ceiling today, you do have a better idea for getting Bob’s mind off his dreaded enemy.
His eyes widen as you stand up, admiring the way your body stretches in your cozy waffle knit robe before heading through to the kitchen. Listens to you fiddle with dishes before passing him again to the bedroom. Too far away to hear, he sinks back into the leather armchair, allowing his body to meld to the material while frustration sits low in his gut. 
The birds at the feeder chirp away before you return. Toes against hardwood catch his attention, and Bob’s head turns toward the hallway, mouth dropping open. 
You’re walking toward him in just his threadbare Naval academy shirt. The shirt you put on the first time you stayed the night. The shirt you were wearing when he last came home from deployment and you shyly asked him to move in. His favorite shirt.
“H-honey…” It’s an unfinished sentence as he takes in how the sunlight illuminates you from behind, baring the silhouette of your figure inside his shirt. 
A smile dances on your lips as you come closer, dropping something on the end table with a soft tink. A noise lost as you straddle Bobby’s thighs, his fingers racing to touch as much of you as quickly as possible. Groaning when he realizes that the shirt is all you have on, the soft flesh of your ass swallowed by his big hands. 
Your fingers smooth their way up his torso, gliding over the dark fabric until the long expanse of his neck pulses beneath your ministrations. Eventually curling into his hair, combing it back into place as he gazes at you earnestly. Within moments the two of you so deeply tangled it would take twice as long to separate.
Eyes filled with nothing but love, your lips quirk sweetly before pressing a kiss to his. Allowing it to linger before pulling away to explain. “I appreciate how much work you’re putting into the house, but I don’t want you to stress. Can I help you relax?”
In place of a response, he groans and pulls you tighter to him, relishing the feel of your skin. 
“Is that a yes?” Your laugh fades as he captures your mouth in a soft kiss. The sunlight highlighting him as you gaze lovingly into his oceanic eyes. The same color as the La Jolla print you bought last summer that he just hung up.
Bob is more than happy to spend the rest of the morning making out. Enjoying the soft warmth of you beneath his hands and the taste of your tongue. The morning sun setting the mood while the birds on the porch sing the soundtrack. It was perfect for him.
Well…perfect until you ran your thumb down the outline of his cock and breathed the most sinful words against his jaw.
“Actually, I was thinking I could keep your cock warm?”
His moan is more of a whine as he immediately swallows your tongue, so grateful for this Saturday morning surprise. Raises his hips as you drag his sweats down, releasing his slowly hardening cock into the space between you, already wet at the tip.
“Honey - ah, that feels s’good,” he interrupts himself as your hand wraps around him,”-but we should prep you. Don’t want to hurt you, honey bear.”
Your face splits into a gentle grin, so enamored by the way he takes care of you even when he’s hotly thrusting his hips into your fist. A grin that pops in surprise when his fingers trace along your folds, appreciating the arousal dripping over your thighs. 
It’s so hot that you only wear his shirt without panties.
His rough thumb slips along your clit, working its way in soft circles. It’s a treat the way your nipples harden against his shirt, level with his eyes as your mouth falls open with sounds only for him. He can’t wait to watch you fall apart stretched out on his cock.
A hand on his wrist makes him pause, your half-lidded eyes finding his. You give him a sly smile as you lean forward to the end table. “Don’t need to, you got me nice and open last night, remember?”
As visions of pounding you face down in the bed only hours before run before his eyes, his mouth opens to protest. He’s fully aware of how big he is and how tight you are.
You press your finger to his lips as you raise what you’d grabbed in the bedroom. “A little of this and we’re good, promise.”
The lube bottle slips between your fingers, applying the slick substance along his shaft as you press soothing pecks along his temple.
“Can’t wait to be full of you, Bobby.” His fingers dig into your skin. Your dirty mouth will be the end of him. Especially with how your eyes burn into his while you raise up on your knees, lining up his obscenely shiny cock with your dripping slit.
“You sure you can take all of me, Honey?”
His gaze meets yours with that steely hint of condescension right as his tip breeches your folds, your pathetic nod spurring the beginning of your descent. 
The popcorn ceiling is the last thing on his mind as your velvet insides take him in. The snug fit of you mixed with the heady scent of your sweat has him dizzy, wrapping his strong arms around you to maintain control. It’s hard to think straight when you take every inch of him so beautifully, the lube assisting your efforts.
“Almost there, so close,” Bob breathes against your lips, the hair of his pelvis beginning to brush against your clit. You’re at capacity and there’s still more. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, every time you think you’ve taken all of him, there’s always more.
Breath caught in your chest, his lips swallow your moan as you finally take him to the hilt, hips pressed fully together in their loving embrace. You’re so full, too full, deliciously full. His warm hand along your back soothes you, massaging while gritting himself against how good it feels.
You laugh through the consuming fullness. “This is supposed to be relaxing you, sorry.”
“Hon, never apologize for making me feel this good. This is exactly what I needed.”
Despite the tense way he’s holding his jaw, he looks content. Soft sapphire eyes shining with admiration, sandy hair swept off his forehead, a soft bead of perspiration trailing down his neck as he fights off the need to thrust. You cradle his jaw between your fingers, loving the way he keens beneath your touch. He’s out of a fairytale.
“I love you.”
“Love you more.”
Time stands still - the melody of the birds fading into the sun-drenched morning - as you bask in the feel of each other. Connected as one in the soft leather of his favorite chair. Soothing fingers trail up your back beneath his shirt, skimming the edges of your breasts, as your own trace the defined planes of his features. 
“I just want your house to be perfect. You deserve perfect things.” He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, placing a delicate kiss as he feels your satin walls contract around him.
You whisper against his hair. “It’s our house.”
Actions replace words as his hands travel up your shirt, crossing over your back as he holds you to him, dragging his lips over each spot of skin available. Skin warmed by sun is covered in adoration.
You shift, the pulsing of his shaft dizzying, as the acts of his love pepper your cheeks, your jaw, your sensitive neck. You love him more than words could ever express.
Love you. Love you so, so much.
When your foreheads finally rest against each other, antsy with arousal and admiration, Bob finally can’t help himself. A soft thrust up into your dripping center, the most delicious treat. The desperate whimper you release against his cheek only spurs him on, shifting his hips back once more only to sink fully into the home of your body.
“I think I’m done with cockwarming,” you admit with a breathless smirk as his hips buck into yours once again.
Your horny boyfriend has never heard more beautiful words. 
Strong hands grip your thighs as he pushes himself up to stand, your legs clenching around his lithe waist as your sense of gravity disappears. The shock instantly replaced by the growing hunger consuming you as he walks to the bedroom, still buried deep in you.
“Ugh, stop showing off. You know I think it’s so hot you can carry me mid-sex.”
Bob pauses in the hallway, leaning back to hold your gaze. “Maybe that’s why I keep doing it.”That cobalt steel back in place. “Now be a good girl and let me take you to bed.”
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