#and extremely negative body image

[ask-stede-bonnet]

Hey, Stede. Is there any part of your body that you feel insecure about? Or have in the past? I have those. 😔

Yes. Ever since around puberty a part of me's always worried I'm too big even though I know that's not true. My advice is to focus on the parts of yourself that you do like (for me, it was my hair and legs), accentuate those, and try not to spiral into self-hatred.

#ooc: how I fixed my body image issues was telling myself 'NO!' every time I had a body conscious thought #ooc: 'my tummy is too big' NO IT'S NOT PEOPLE LOVE TUMMIES #ooc: 'my shoulders are too broad' NO IT'S NOT GIRLS WITH BROAD SHOULDERS ARE HOT #ooc: 'my nose is weird' NO IT'S NOT!! #ooc: and eventually those negative thoughts slowly dissappeared. it might not work for everyone of course #ooc: my self image issues were low/average for cis women. nothing extreme. but it's worth a shot I think #ooc: changing your mindset is slow. it probably took me a year of consistent effort. but it was so worth it #ask stede bonnet #ofmd #our flag means death

[wanderestlest]

related to body image stuff: it is so easy as a ~conventionally attractive~ thin person to talk about the weirdness of how people behave about my body without framing myself as a victim or somehow suffering as much as people experiencing fatphobia. other thin people should try it

#i have no time for the crybullying #it's 'white people wanna be oppressed so bad' but for being skinny #like. there are less extreme options than 'oppressed'! you can be made uncomfortable or sad! those are also negative experiences! #mine #body image #fatphobia

[zeldasnotes]

YOUR LILITH PLACEMENT: UNEVOLVED & EVOLVED

These are my personal observations and not facts. If you are someone whos sensitive to reading negative observations about your placement then dont read this post or only read the evolved part.

LILITH IN THE 1ST HOUSE

evolved: Strong leadership abilities, independent, sexy, brave, confident, attracts attention easily, ambitious and driven, using your drive and energy for good purposes, indpiring, refusing to back down, standing up for the underdogs, goes against societal expectations.

unevolved: No boundaries when it comes to your body, treating your body like an object, hiding behind a bitchy phacade, feeling a strong need to change your looks, overdoing the ”the bad guy” act, aggressive, too much need for excitement, seeking conflict, too attention seeking, shocking others for reactions and attention, rude.

LILITH IN THE 2ND HOUSE

evolved: Good at making money, not letting people use you, able to recognize those who are only after your for your looks or money, saving & investing, using your sensual energy for good, artistic, good at cooking, good at pleasing all senses, seductive, understanding the power of your smell, touch and how you look.

unevolved: Low self worth, settling for less than what you deserve, letting people use you to feel a sense of worth, no self respect, shopping addiction, materialistic, financial self destruction, trying to heal emotional issues with material stuff, body image issues, greedy, never satisfied, settling for less.

LILITH IN THE 3RD HOUSE

evolved: Extremely intelligent, cunning, always an ace up your sleeve, able to get yourself out of any situation, the perfect socialite, great storyteller, using your communication skills for good, picking up on hidden undercurrents, able to seduce and convince others easily, musical talent, writing talent.

unevolved: Lying, strong envy towards a sibling, mindfog, hard time controlling your tongue, gossiping, tongue turning into a knife when you feel insecure, calling out peoples insecurities, underestimating other peoples intelligence, unnecessary mean comments.

LILITH IN THE 4TH HOUSE

evolved: Nurturing, understanding of other peoples needs, good mothers if you choose to have children yourself, a soft aura that others are super drawn too, excellent sense of hospitality, generous, sensing other peoples psychological state easily, breaking the generational curse if you have your own children.

unevolved: Moody, bad relationship with women, projecting your motherissues onto other women, homewrecking, issues with femininity, treating other women like your mom treated you, fixated with traditions, manipulating, cold when in a bad mood,

LILITH IN THE 5TH HOUSE

evolved: Healing your inner child, marching to the beat of your own drum, knows how to make others feel special, great party planner, decides to do different for your own children, praising yourself instead on looking for praise and admiration from others, making your taboo taste into art, changing the industry.

unevolved: Using arrogance to make up for feeling small, no sense of reality, boasting, projecting onto your own child, refusing to co parent, going out of your way to get attention, deadly afraid of rejection, gambling, fixation with dark art, baby trapping, gambling, repeating childhood patterns with your own children.

LILITH IN THE 6TH HOUSE

evolved: Interested in health, healthy relationship to health and your body, learning that its ok to be human and not a perfect robot, very skilled at what you do, being of service to others because thats what you live but not to the point of forgetting yourself, taking care of yourself, taking small steps instead of expecting instant perfection.

unevolved: Neglecting your health or obsessive about health,living in filth, unable to follow a routine, not visiting the doctor for years, refusing to ask for help, critical, overworking yourself, not feeling satisfied until its perfection, overdoing your work, envious of those in the same business as you, envious of other peoples work, weird relationship to pets.

LILITH IN THE 7TH HOUSE

evolved: Charming and social, excellent social skills, seeing your own faults in your relationship, learning that sometimes confrontation is needed, compassionate, supportive instead of competetive towards others of your gender, refusing to fight or manipulate someone into loving you, seeing your own beauty instead of focusing on others, setting boundaries.

unevolved: Passive aggressive, inappropriate relationships, attracted to 3rd party situationships, attracted to the bad guys, homewrecker, using politeness as a weapon, turning people against eachother, naive, thinking everyone wants your partner, losing yourself for the sake of pleasing others, manipulating instead of confronting, too nice for your own good, people pleasing.

LILITH IN THE 8TH HOUSE

evolved: Using your power for good, magnetic, born psychologist, spiritual, strong but healthy interest in dark subjects, self aware, exploring your sexuality in healthy ways, good at uncovering the truth, letting go of the control issues, learning that your body belongs to you.

unevolved: Obsessed with power, abusing your power, lack of sexual boundaries, sex addiction, having to rely on others for money,control issues, struggling with obsession, vengeful, risky sex or sex with risky people, unhealthy interest in dark subjects, unhealthy fixation with sex.

LILITH IN THE 9TH HOUSE

evolved: Intelligent, humanitarian, fast learner, adventurous, able to find hope in any situation, exploring other belief systems instead of judging, giving back to your community, rebelling against cultural expectations, modern, not afraid to break societal rules, refusing to be forced or silenced into conforming.

unevolved: Extremist, hypocrite, cultural appropriation, too easily manipulated when it comes to opinions, fixation and envy towards another culture, using religion as a mask, hiding your faults under a ”churchmom” image, fanatic, hard time understanding people who are different, lying about where you are from, extremely judgmental.

LILITH IN THE 10TH HOUSE

evoled: Ambitious, seeing worth in yourself no matter what others think of you, refusing to bow down to ”high society”, refusing to be labeled, a force to be reckoned with, refusing to beg your way into rooms you are not welcomed in and instead kicking the door open, letting go of the need to be seen with the right people, letting go of trying to be accepted by a toxic father figure.

unevolved: Workaholism, working as a way of avoiding pain, social climbing, using others for status, obsessed with status and image, seeing ”important” people as better, thinking that social standing is everything, judging people based on social standing, seeking fame or clout to feel protected, hiding behind a ”name”.

LILITH IN THE 11TH HOUSE

evolved: Humanitarian, understanding of people from all walks of life, thinking for yourself instead of being influenced, not afraid to befriend the outcasts, seeing more than labels, rebellious, fighting for justice, standing up against the ”in crowd”.

unevolved: Envious of friends, befriending or staying friends with someone to keep an eye on theme, fake, detached, mistrusting everyone because of early experiences with friends, betraying before you get betrayed, unable to see whos your friend and whos your enemy, befriending bad people bc you think they will be different to you.

LILITH IN THE 12TH HOUSE

evolved: Psychic, accepting your shadow side, listening to your intuition, saintlike, working on your triggers, dealing with issues instead of escaping, extremely compassionate, using your psychic abilities for good, helpful but without sacrificing yourself completely, very empathic, saviour.

unevolved: Unable to be alone, addictions, hard time facing reality, making up a fantasy image of things in your head to avoid dealing with reality, self sacrifice, thinking you are the victim in every situation, constantly, finding ways to escape your feelings, refusing to deal with your triggers, focusing on other peoples problems to avoid your own, naive.

©️ 2024 Zeldas Notes All Rights Reserved

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith #lilith 1st house #lilith aspects #lilith 8th house #Lilith in the houses

[alessiasfreckles]

14 leah plsss xoxoxo

the ways i love you - leah williamson x reader

14. A kiss to the stomach

warnings: negative body image

-------

You sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You had bought a new bikini for your holiday with Leah, wanting something cute to wear at the pool or on the beach.

You loved Leah with all your heart, but sometimes dating a professional footballer was hard. Especially when you were very much not a professional footballer and enjoyed chocolate a little more than you should. She was incredibly attractive, and her body was just amazing, but occasionally you'd catch yourself comparing your bodies, which you knew wasn't fair.

She would tell you that as well - that it was unfair and unrealistic to expect your body to look like that of a professional athlete, and that she loved the way your body looked, not just because it was gorgeous, stunning, sexy, but because it was your body.

Still, you'd catch yourself frowning when you saw your reflection, especially next to hers, and lately you'd been having to make an extremely conscious effort to not talk or think negatively about your body.

You turned, looking at yourself from the side in the mirror. You knew, logically, that most girls and afab people carried some fat on their stomach. That it wasn't anything unusual, or anything to be ashamed of. You poked your stomach with a grimace, watching it in the reflection.

Leah's voice echoed in your head, telling you how beautiful you were, and you rolled your eyes. As if she could read your mind, Leah poked her head around the bedroom door.

"Woah, look at you!" she said when she saw what you were wearing, whistling appreciatively. "Baby, you look fantastic! Is that a new bikini?"

You covered your stomach with your arms self-consciously, shrugging. "Yeah, I got it for our holiday. But I don't know, I might return it."

"What, why?" she asked, walking over to you and stopping a few feet away to look you up and down again. Her eyes lingered on your chest and legs, pausing at your arms covering your stomach.

You shrugged again. "I just, I feel too, I dunno, exposed? I don't think this is the right kind of thing for my body."

"I think it's exactly the right kind of thing for your body," Leah said firmly, then hesitated. "Can... Can I do something?"

You squinted at her suspiciously. "What?"

"Can you lie down on the bed for me? I just want to see if I can help make you feel better," she explained. When you raised an eyebrow her cheeks pinkened slightly. "Not sex! I mean, I'm happy to make you feel better that way, too, but that's not what I had in mind."

"Uh-huh," you said, smirking at her, but you got on the bed anyway, lying down.

"Can you close your eyes for me?" she asked. "If you want me to stop, just say, okay?"

You nodded, eyes closed, and felt Leah climb onto the bed, near your legs. You jumped when her hands brushed your calves and thighs, stroking them, massaging them.

"I love your legs," she started. "I love your legs because they're beautiful and they're yours, but I also love them because they're strong. They let you walk, run, swim. They're powerful. They help hold you up."

She placed kisses up and down each leg gently, the soft touch making your heart swell with love. Then she moved to your arms, straddling you to reach both easily. You grinned as she straddled you, and you could feel her laughing above you.

"This is not sexual, remember? Not yet at least," she said, and you could hear the smirk in her voice. She touched each arm, in a similar fashion to how she'd touched your legs, caressing them gently. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, your arms, and your hands. I love your arms. I love how soft your skin is, the dimple by your elbows. I love them because they let you hold my hand, they let you hug me, they let you do all sorts of things to me. Your arms are strong, like your legs, they're powerful and beautiful."

Your throat felt tight, like you were going to cry. Leah kissed your arms, making her way from your shoulders to your wrists.

"Your hands are so perfect. They fit in mine like we were made for each other, like two puzzle pieces linking together. Your hands do so many amazing things," she continued, and kissed each fingertip, then the palms of your hands.

You felt her body weight shift as she moved down, sitting on your thighs. You tensed as her hands came to rest on your stomach, aware of every movement she made, everywhere her hands touched.

"I love your stomach. I love how it looks, I love that it's soft, it's so beautiful and attractive. I love that if i touch it a certain way, like this, it makes your stomach feel like it's flipping and it makes you giggle," she said, brushing her hand over your stomach to prove her point, making you jump and smile when your stomach flipped. "I love that it lets you eat yummy food, that it makes so many noises at night when we're going to sleep, that one day our baby will be in there."

You felt a tear leak out of your closed eyes as she pressed kisses to your stomach, gently, as if she was worried about breaking you. Sniffling a little, you opened your eyes when you felt her move off you, coming closer to you.

"Oh, I didn't mean to make you cry," she said, wiping away your tears with the back of her hand.

"No, no, it's okay," you shook your head. "They're good tears."

"Oh, phew! I was worried," she smiled, stroking your cheek softly. "I love you. I love all of you, all of your body, all of your brain, so so much."

"I love you, too," you said, and she leant forward, kissing you, her lips soft against yours.

"And, I really do like this bikini," she said as she pulled back. She winked and reached down to the string on the side of the bikini, pulling it open. "It really does look amazing on you. But... I think it'd look even better off."

#hannah writes blurbs #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson blurb #leah williamson fluff #woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso fanfic #woso one shot #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso blurb

[pjackk]

pig iron freak

Im extremely sick of u and your nasty shit u have never been nice to me ive been trying to hand out grape vines and other shit and be the bigger bitch but u never give me anything in return cold ass bitch fuck u nasty ass bitch u always bully me because u can and never because u should fucking nasty bithc i want u to go fuck yourself and do something beside torture me well u cant because u arent talented like me and u dont have no rocket boots or nothing at all poor ass bitchhh im honestly fed up and tired with this shit and im done im just done ive been havcing lots of problems with myself and my image especialy how my skin is made of metal its so cold and i never feel good about it its all because of your sick little venom tongue which was made to suck dog dick cuz well i cant ever imagine u ever doing anything else with that nasty ass dracula tongue since u just have to always be harasing my ass and making me feel so bad bitch be sayinbg shit all the time always being negative cuz u mad u dont have my life i have so much fun and im always feeling really good and i love my alloy body and what u say doesnt do shit to me cuz im more mature than u little freak stupid little nasty freak ius jealous i make money and u dont i get men much sexier than anything u could ever pull and its because i have a delightful style that keeps me in the loop with lots of good fun ppl who care about me and well your the only person in my liufe thats nasty as fuck and always a dick to me for no reason i have lots of friends but i bet u have more enemies cuz i sure im one of many tortured angels u touch with your rotten finger

[meanbossart]

Hi! I'm in love with your DU art and was wondering what Drow's initial reaction to Astarion being a vampire spawn or did he already know? (Also what's his view on vampires in general?)

Oh yeah he knew LOL

Like, I'm sorry, I don't care if your insight is in the negatives - the guy is surrounded by jars of coagulated blood, he's translucent under the sun, he has red eyes and bite marks on his neck, he has FANGS. I will first believe you found some work-around to the whole "sun-burning-me-to-cinders" issue before I DON'T assume that you're a vampire.

Because Astarion took almost a whole act to warm up to DU drow, I had the pleasure of getting the dialogue where he has to tell you about his status as a suckling undead unprompted. And yeah, DU drow's reaction was "Yeah I know". It gave me a good laugh, I'm so glad that was an option.

I think DU drow, after gathering that Astarion was some kind of vampire, just assumed it didn't need to be discussed unless he turned it into a problem. He's fucked-up in the head himself, after all, and the other guy over there is eating necklaces and boots to survive - if you need to take off to eat a boar every other night that's fine, It's none of his business.

But after it was all out in the open, and after they had sex for the first time, it was only then that Astarion tried to bite him. At that point DU drow was already a little carnally-smitten with the guy and had since re-familiarized himself with his own taste for pain. His current object of desire requesting to hurt him for his own benefit and to put himself in such a vulnerable place felt very... Nostalgic. Not only did he agree to it pronto, but it honed his interest in Astarion from that point on. Something about this agreement of theirs was very comforting, and he kept coming back for more, long before any feelings had actually developed.

This has nothing to do with his vampirism, though LOL there just so happens to be a lot of crossover between it and things that endear DU drow to Astarion. The literal bloodthirst, their shared feral nature, the risk implied in being intimate with him, the fact that Astarion looks and smells like a dead body-

This drives DU drow specially nutty. He loves how Astarion smells. This man will stick his face in his crevices and just take a deep long whiff. You're welcome for that mental image, by the way.

Otherwise, his opinion of vampires is very much based on Astarion's own perspective - which means he views them as a whole as untrustworthy creatures; weak, but simultaneously extremely dangerous. Vampire lords are tyrants drunk on power, always one misstep away from their downfall, and spawn are all cornered animals - fragile, but rabid. Astarion is, of course, the exception... Kind of.

#ask #DU drow lore

[nartothelar]

AU were Emmets selfcare and self preservation subconiously takes form of Ingo to stop him from doing unhealthy things or destroying his own body.

Has the negative side effect of Emmet keep doing things because he is "with Ingo in a way".

Honestly sounds interesting and could also lead into a Emmet gets therapy situation.

(On the other hand the image of Ingo having this unknown man in white encouraging to keep going and avoid danger even if his amnesia sometimes frustrates him would also serve as a nice parallel. He doesn't know who he is but everytime he gets told to keep on going he can't help but do what he says)

subconcious Guardian Angel?

Hmm! That’s pretty much what this smoking series is sorta doing? These visages of Ingo are just his own subconscious (and old memories of his brother) trying to get him to not fall into old habits sksksk Emmet cares and depends on routines in his life, so having “Ingo” there, even if its not really him, aids as a reminder to not derail too much -> coping mechanism

As for Ingo’s case, this “man in white” that keeps appearing in front of him mostly appears only when he’s in danger, as a sort of “third man factor” phenomenon, to help guide him/encourage him to safety, which is something that has happened to actual people and something super interesting to read about!

“Subconscious guardian angel” au is an extrEMELY cool au name tho and I might have to snatch it whenever I draw something similar to these comics sksksks

#AWESOME NAME #ask #subconscious guardian angel au #tw blood #tw injury #tw impalement

[iwrotetheilliad]

Girls Need Love~

♡ You are well aware that your boyfriend’s a busy man, but that doesn’t change the fact that you still need him desperately.

Genre: P WITHOUT P ;)

CW: DACRYPHILIA !!! THIS ONE IS HUGEEE!! Praise kink, reader is a horny fuck, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), lotsa hickies, a little bit of body worship, if you squint a little, dry humping, Isagi kinda manhandles the reader at various points, mentions of choking (reader doesn’t get choked, but he puts his hand around her neckline), unprotected, penetrative sex. I’m pretty sure that’s everything, but please be wary cuz this is smut!

Characters: Isagi Yoichi

A/N: Ive made a playlist for Isagi ^_^! A lot of the songs on it are something you would probably find on a smut playlist tbh, but it’s not my fault if this man just radiates sex energy the same way Nagi radiates bde ;)

The city outside of your floor to ceiling windows is alive. Lights from neighboring apartment buildings, headlights of the traffic, stoplights, and whatever else the world gets up to at night contrast the quiet, gentle glow of the lamps in your apartment. You step out of the shower, letting water drip everywhere. Lately, a need for your boyfriend has been crawling through your blood, taking over all your senses. Nothing could be done about this desire though; Isagi’s always busy. You dry yourself off, trying to get the image of his hands caressing your skin out of your mind. Drying your hair, moisturizing your body, and slipping your nighttime shorts and shirt on, you leave the bathroom with the horrible need still pulling at you to relieve yourself somehow.

Grabbing, a small snack from the kitchen, you stare down at your phone, the time glares back at you mockingly. Isagi’s late, again. Honestly, there’s nothing special about today that would make his absence an inherently negative thing, if it weren’t for the burn in between your thighs.

Sighing, you switch your phone off, and head into bed. Throwing the fluffy white covers back, sleep is the last thing on your mind. For a moment, all you do is stare at the mattress, the ache only growing. Your hand slowly starts moving up your body, cupping your tits from through the thing white fabric. You can feel your nipples getting hard, as you play with them through the cotton. Finally, after massaging yourself through your shirt, you move to your shirts, pulling them down your thighs. The baby blue lacy panties that Isagi bought for you mask your pussy from the world, but are getting soaked through by the second.

Collapsing onto the bed, you grab a pillow, and placing it in between your thighs. Slowly you begin grinding yourself along the length of the pillow, trying desperately to offer yourself some type of relief. It’s a mildly successful endeavor, when sometimes you grind yourself just right, sending shockwaves of pleasure shooting through your entire body, but it’s not enough. You need Isagi desperately- you might even go crazy if you don’t have him tonight.

Moans and whimpers escape your mouth, before finally you give up and collapse back on the bed. You stare up at the ceiling, extremely dissatisfied. You’re about to try and force yourself to go to sleep, when you remember the kitchen light is still on.

Reluctantly rising to turn it off, you don’t make it out of your bedroom’s doorway before you hear the lock click and the front door swing open.

There he stands, sliding his shoes off, the answer to all your problems. Isagi’s frame is slightly crouched over as he removes his shoes, and when he glances up, his smile fades as he takes in your current state.

“Babe, what-”

Just hearing his voice is enough to break you, and tears fall down your face as your thighs begin to shake. Immediately, Isagi is beyond concerned.

“What happened, are you okay?” he asks rushing forward and trying to cup your face.

Before his hands can caress your cheek though, you grab his wrists and move them to your boobs, letting him grope you instead.

“Please…” you mewl. “I need you so badly, please Yoichi.”

Understanding replaces the worry in his eyes, and a breath later, that understanding is replaced with lust. Isagi bends down to meet your lips, before moving his hands to your hips, squeezing reassuringly.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbles before pressing his lips against yours. “I’ll take good care of you.”

He scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bed, hungrily kissing you. It’s sloppy, it’s wet, his tongue licks your lips like they’re ice cream.

You moan into his mouth, finally feeling that satisfaction you had craved just moments ago. When he throws you down underneath him, a new rush fills your blood, and you gently cry out as he immediately covers your body with his. Isagi sucks marks into your neck, and you grip his hair with iron-strength. The tears have slowed, but when he kisses this one spot of your neck, water fills your eyes again and you all but cry out.

“Yoichi, please, just take me,” you whisper breathlessly, as he moves down to wear your shirts collar starts.

“Relax, Y/N,” he mutters, running his hands along your curves under your shirt. “Just let me take care of you.”

You grab his hair again as he massages your tits, and bring his head up to continue making out with you. As the two of you passionately kiss, you feel his sweatpants begin to rub against your underwear. The friction sought after in the pillow is finally here, and your hips greedily snap into motion, taking everything that your boyfriend is offering, and trying to get even more. The two of you’s hips move like waves, in perfect push-and-pull movements that have the wet spot of your panties growing by the second.

“Babe,” you murmur when he finally pulls away from you.

He growls savagely, before making his way back down your neck. Suddenly, he grabs your shirt and with a loud tear, your chest is exposed to the cold air. Isagi’s mouth immediately starts sucking hickies around your chest, covering your torso with pretty purple and red marks. Signing contently, you relax into the bed, letting your boyfriend continue pleasuring you to his hearts content. Isagi finally lets up with one final kiss to the rib before dropping to his knees. His hands hook underneath your thighs, and he pulls you with all his strength to the edge of his bed. His nose brushes against your clothed clit, and you yelp.

“You poor thing,” he coos. “You must’ve been so pent up for days, look at how wet you are,” he places soft kisses against your panties. “Look how pretty you look in this lingerie I bought you, I knew you’d be perfect.”

You hum at his praise, raising one of your hands to cover your eyes.

Placing one last kiss on you panties, he commands, “Lift your hips for me, love.” When you do, he hastily pulls your underwear off, grinning at the sight of your glistening cunt. “You’re so perfect baby. I’m gonna make you cum so hard so many times.”

Before you can respond, Isagi licks a line straight up your pussy. You cry out and tighten your already impossibly tight grip in his hair, pushing him closer, urging him to never stop even though he’s just begun.

In between gentle kisses and starving licks, Isagi manages to mix in praise of, “You sound so pretty love,” and, “Lemme stay here forever.” When you start to feel the rubber band in your stomach begin to reach its limit, your thighs close in around Isagi’s neck, almost cutting off his air supply.

“Yoi- oh my fucking god, yes, please!” You cry out into the night, as you release everything all of his tongue. He greedily drinks it all, like it’s water blessing dried out plants. “I love you so much,” you obscenely moan. “Please, yes, yes, ugnnnn~”

When he finally breaks free from your cunt, your fluids, drip down his chin. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, you flip him over so that he’s underneath you now. You climb over his lap, and yank his shirt off, revealing the body he spent months and years delicately crafting. Rubbing your hands over his pecks, slowly you make your way down to the tent in his sweatpants. Sliding off of him, you slide his bottoms off and let his pretty cock flop out.

Licking your lips, you grab it and slide the tip of it into your mouth. Isagi moans out a sound fit for a porno, and tosses his head back. When you slide your mouth down the rest of his length, his adam’s apple bobs. He glanced back up to see you beautifully suck him off and swears that he almost cums right then and there with how eagerly you bob your head up and down his dick.

“Oh my god, baby,” he groans, “that’s it, just like that. You’re so good for me…”

You release his dick with a pop, and dirtily like up his cock, before sucking again on just the tip. He grabs hold of your hair, twisting the locks around his hand.

“Oh fuck yes,” he groans, not daring to look away for even a second. You don’t stop until his moans, “Y/N, I’m cumming-” prompting you to take him out of your mouth, and stick out your tongue so that he can see the thin stripe paint the inside of your mouth. His hips twitch and his lets out whatever he can.

Slowly, you stand and he grabs you, pulling you next to him, kissing your shoulder and back.

“Yoichi…” you whisper hotly, turning your head to try and look at him.

“Can I fuck you?” he all but begs. “Please, let me fuck you.”

“Yes,” you sigh, scooting a bit away from him. He follows you up the bed in a trance, and watches your body underneath him. Your hair is a mess, your lips are swollen red, and some of his cum stays on them. Your chest is flushed red, and his hickies look like flowers in a garden against your skin.

“Yoichi,” you say, snapping him out of his haze, “fuck me.”

Isagi wastes absolutely no time, and immediately spreads your legs, sliding his dick into you. The two of you cry out. His hands rest against the bottom of your neck, covering your collarbone, to inches away from choking you. He smirks as he watches your slutty face contort in pleasure as he begins moving.

He doesn’t wait for you to get used to him, he starts going fast from the get-go.

“Made for me,” he slurs. It sounds more like he’s saying it to himself than you.

It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling the same tightness that you’ve been experiencing for the past how long. It doesn’t matter anymore though. Nothing matters except for this moment right now-how amazingly he’s drilling himself into you, how pretty his hair looks when the sweat beads at the tips, dripping on his face and your body. You grab his wrist with both your hands and let yourself rock back and forth as your boyfriend fucks the life out of you. The headboard begins banging against the wall and with his free hand he grabs it. The floorboard creaks with every moan you release, and soon you start sobbing again. Everything is so good, you just can’t help it! Every sense is alive as it takes in the sensations of Isagi.

“Like it that much?” Isagi jokes, leaning in closer to you.

Words don’t exist. Nothing does that can quantify just how much you like it. All you can do is take your hands off his wrists, cover your face, and nod vigorously. Isagi chuckles hotly and moves his hand to the bed, fisting the bedsheets getting stained with sweat.

“My pretty crybaby,” he sighs, feeling another orgasm forming in his lower stomach. “Cmon baby, I’m almost there.”

“Me too,” you mumble, shaking. You take your hands off your face and wrap your arms around his neck.

Nails dig into his shoulder blades as he says, “Cum with me my baby.”

As if on cue, you cum, and not even two seconds later, he releases inside of you too. He pants and you whimper, feeling so incredibly full. He starts to pull out, but you cry in protest and wrap your legs around his hips.

“Stay,” you sniffle.

Isagi’s heart does a funny thing. It doesn’t break, but it aches in an odd way that feels like it’s breaking. He knows that because of his job, he’s practically never around home, and he wishes he could be. He knows it must drive you crazy being cooped up all alone at home, and there would never be enough words to express how sorry he is because of that.

His smile is kind and warm, and he slowly lowers himself on top of you. “Of course, my love. However long you want.”

If you got the reference I made in this, ILY ToT.

#isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #bllk isagi #blue lock isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #isagi x you #isagi smut #isagi yoichi smut #bllk smut #blue lock smut

[yanderestarangel]

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄!𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW: image disorder, stretch marks, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, afab anatomy, ftm reader, pet names, age gap, dilf!johnny cage, daddykink, praise kink.

You had low self-esteem, and Johnny was your best friend's father, who offered you to train with you, he loves working out to be a Hollywood movie actor and martial arts fighter.

He always supported you, even if in his opinion you didn't need it because you're extremely hot, but you insisted because you have image problems and one of those days, you look at your body in the mirror, and fall into bed watching Johnny arrive at yours home opening the door cheerful and shirtless, with the typical glasses.

-Good moring my little pretty boy, let's exercise?

Johnny speaks happily while flexing the muscles in his arms, but soon notices his sad look on the bed, while he was worried, waiting for you to say what was bothering you.

You soon said that you were feeling ugly because of the stretch marks and extra fat, something that was perfectly normal, but you couldn't see it because you had a distorted image and were always pushing yourself too hard and Johnny knew that.

"-Hey now, none of that talk, alright? You're beautiful just the way you are. Those stretch marks and curves? They're all part of what makes you unique and stunning. Don't let anyone, including yourself, tell you otherwise, How about we forget about all those negative thoughts and focus on some self-love? I can help you see just how incredible you truly are." -Johnny's touch is confident and firm, letting you know that he means business. Despite his forwardness, there's a genuine desire to make you feel good.

You didn't question him, just letting Johnny take you in front of the mirror in your room and lift your shirt, exposing your body, Johnny was tired of hiding his desire for you, he wasn't going to be your coach or just your best friend's father, he was going to show you how beautiful you were from every angle and shape.

He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, feeling the heat and hardness of his erection against your sensitive areas.

"-Oh, my little pretty boy, I'm going to show you just how incredible your body can feel." -His hard length against your pussy and ass, his hands gripping your hips firmly

"-Look at yourself in the mirror, sweetheart. Look at how stunning you are, how desirable. See those curves, those luscious breasts, that beautiful round ass? You're a work of art, my dear."

Johnny's words are a mix of encouragement and arousal, his voice thick with desire. He wants you to see yourself through his eyes, to witness your own sensuality and beauty, as he continues to rub against you, he leans in to whisper in your ear.

"-And I can't wait to make you feel even better. I'm going to show you just how much pleasure your body is capable of. Hold on tight, my little pretty boy."

Johnny nips at your earlobe before moving his lips down to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. The mirror reflects the passion and desire in both your eyes, as Johnny begins his exploration of your body.

"-You have no idea how badly I want to taste you (Y/N), to make you forget all your worries and insecurities. Your pleasure is my priority, my dear." -He slowly lowers himself to his knees, his gaze locked with yours as he spreads your legs apart, exposing your wet and eager pussy.

Cage leans in, his hot breath against your inner thighs before flicking his tongue against your swollen clit. His touch is skilled and confident, expertly bringing you to the edge of pleasure.

As he licks and suckles, he continues to assert his dominance over you, mixing degrading words with praises, heightening the intensity of the moment.

"-You're so beautiful, my little slut. This tight, wet pussy belongs to me now. I'm going to make you scream my name, beg for more. And you will. You'll be mine in every sense." -Johnny chuckles against your wet pussy, the vibrations causing you to squirm in pleasure, he expertly works his tongue on your sensitive folds, using his mouth to drive you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"-Oh, my little pretty boy, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you. And lucky for us, I think it's time we make that happen, Are you ready, sweetheart? Ready to feel me deep inside you? Ready to let go and experience pleasure like never before?"- With a swift motion, Johnny stands up, pulling you with him. His hands firmly grip your hips as he positions himself at your entrance.

He sees you nodding your head in affirmation for him to move on, his dominant side fully taking over as he positions you in front of the mirror, the sight of your tight pussy enveloping his hard cock only intensifies his lust.

"-That's right, my little slut. Daddy's going to fuck you so good." -Johnny Cage growls, his voice dripping with lust and authority.

Johnny begins to move his hips, his thrusts slow and deep, savoring the feeling of your tightness. As he watches the mirror, he relishes in the sight of your body meeting his relentless pace. The reflection reflects the raw desire and pleasure on both your faces, his hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as you ride him. A delicious mix of pain and pleasure courses through your body as he lightly squeezes the soft flesh of your waist.

"-You're such a good little fucktoy, my pretty boy, look at yourself, taking Daddy's cock like a good slut. You were made for this, made to be fucked and used."

Johnny thrusts become harder and faster, his hips colliding with yours with a satisfying slap. The sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin fill the room.

Johnny's lust-filled eyes are fixed on your reflection in the mirror, his cock throbbing deep inside you as you ride him. He groans in pleasure, relishing in the feel of your tight pussy gripping him tightly.

"-Yes (Y/N), that's it, my little slut, take my cock, show me what a dirty little boy you can be... Oh fuck, that feels so good, my pretty boy. Squeeze them, feel them tighten as I fuck you harder,"

His hand continues to tease and pleasure your clit, his fingers expertly exploring your most sensitive spots. With every flick and stroke, the pleasure intensifies, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

"-You're such a dirty little slut, aren't you? Fucking your best friend's dad, riding me like you were made for it."

Johnny watches as your hands explore his balls, adding an extra layer of pleasure for him. His grip on your waist tightens, his thrusts become more powerful and relentless.

"-You're mine baby no one else gets to have you like this... You belong to Daddy Johnny."

As pleasure builds and the tension in the room reaches its peak, Johnny pushes you even closer to the edge.

"-Come for me, my pretty boy, show Daddy how much you love being his dirty little slut."

With his words urging you on, the sensations overwhelm you, and you shudder in intense release, your orgasm rippling through your body. The mirror reflects the ecstasy on your face as your walls clench around Johnny's cock, coaxing him to his own climax.

Moments later, Johnny groans loudly, his control shattering as he spills his hot seed deep inside your pussy. He thrusts a few more times, riding out his orgasm before finally stilling.

Breathing heavily, both of you take a moment to bask in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Johnny leans in to kiss your shoulder, his touch filled with tenderness amidst the raw desire that had consumed you both.

"-My pretty boy, you're so fucking amazing."

#yanderestarangel #afab reader #ftm reader #johnny cage mk #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x ftm reader #johnny cage x y/n #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x ftm reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat 11 #mk11 x reader #mk x ftm reader #mk11 #mk x reader #mk johnny cage #mortal kombat fandom #smut x reader #tw smut #johnny cage smut #johnny cage x male reader #imagine johnny cage #smut #trans reader #johnny cage imagine #johnny cage mk11

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

epilogue: our love is going gold

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 17.2k (but she's done. like done, done.)

warnings (**SPOLIERS**): NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is now 10 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), established relationship, engagement, marriage, alcohol, eating, very lovey romantic, polite southern manners, spanish/spanglish cause joel is latino, soft joel, domestic joel, WIFE!! GUY!! JOEL!!, discussion of parenting, step-parenting, struggles with conceiving, negative self talk and image, smut, soft dom joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), joel worships the ground his wife walks on and also her body, praise, unprotected p in v (they're tryna get pregnant, not you!), breeding kink, sort of nursing kink? joel is briefly obsessed with your tits and makes comments, mating press, a flash of cumplay, the BRIEFEST mention of daddy kink, joel really wants to give his wife a baby, pregnancy, a mention of giving birth, girl dad joel, CUTE FAMILY!!!

also this is the song mentioned <3 it's a fave of mine and i think very joel & mari

a/n: this has been a doozy but happy to hand this over to y'all. this is simply what i envisioned for their future, and if you had different thoughts, i would love to hear them! <3 or if you have any headcanons for their life beyond this, drop them in my inbox! this fic and these characters are my children and i love them very much. will probably keep them alive somehow. and thank you to everyone who's read this series, you are all so special to me and have sincerely made me feel so much more confident in my writing!

as always, thank you thank you thank you @northernbluess for beta-ing, couldn't do it without you! and this extremely long ending is dedicated to el and kiwi @kiwisbell you are my hype people fr

i feel like i need to say like signing off on h&h now lol so this is me doing that & closing the book!

** this is set over three additional summers post-main story **

first of many

After the holidays, it was an easy decision to move in with Joel and Sarah. The Millers had joined your family for their annual, lowkey celebrations; spending Christmas Eve with Joel and Sarah, it was a treat to witness him playing Santa after Sarah had gone to bed. Only a few curses under his breath putting together the new dollhouse she’d requested from St Nick, the other presents from her father, and your gifts to her carefully wrapped under the tree. The two of you split the plate of cookies while watching A Christmas Story, you and Joel taking turns mumbling the words to the iconic scenes under your breaths.

The next morning, your heart was overwhelmed with the love that you hold for this family that has welcomed you in and made you a part of it. Sarah gifted you a photo frame that she’d made at school, painted with flowers and butterflies, and a photo of the three of you from the trip to the apple orchard you’d taken that fall. Once Sarah was occupied with her new treasures, gifts were exchanged between you and Joel. Requesting to gift first, you stand up from the couch and tiptoe around Sarah and her new dolls sprawled across the floor to the front hall closet and retrieve a brand new, custom acoustic guitar. 

Sitting back with him, guitar placed into his hands and his eyes combing over it, his lips part with a gasping breath when he notices in the inlay of ‘SME’ for his daughter’s name, Sarah Elena.

“The old one in the corner of your room was lookin’ a little worse for wear, and I hadn’t seen you play it in a while…” you trail off in the silence, waiting for his response, “Do you—do you like it? Is it the right kind? I tried to match it the best I could to the one upstairs.”

“Oh, Mari baby, I love it. It’s beautiful, thank you so much…” He shakes his head, taking another sighing exhale in appreciation as he turns it in his hands. “Hadn’t played the other one 'cause it wasn’t quite playable anymore. Restrung it a few too many times, the wood was warped from some water damage. The perils of having a toddler around years ago. This is…it’s perfect, Mariposa.”

You beam, shifting in your seat and anxiously fiddling with your fingers. Joel sets the instrument down next to him carefully, turning back to you. He leans in, kissing you delicately and whispering another ‘thank you’ against your lips, “Guess m’gonna have to serenade you now.”

“Oh, yeah, J. I expect one nightly,” you playfully respond, kissing him again before he pulls away, his turn to stand from his place on the couch. 

He wanders over to the tree, plucking the last wrapped gift from under it, and returning to sit next to you. Handing over the small rectangular box, you unwrap it gingerly, glancing at Joel’s knee bouncing. You gently set your hand on it, smiling at him which he returns, biting his lip to channel his jittery energy. Opening the box, you’re met with the shining gold links of a beautiful charm bracelet. Your eyes wander over the small icons, feeling your chest tighten with love as you take them all in: A small ‘S’ with a ruby-colored stone at each end of the curve, a matching ‘J’ with a sapphire embedded into it right next to the ‘S; there’s a tiny gold key, nearly identical to the one he had given to you those three summers before for your job that started it all; a tiny set of longhorn antlers that is reminiscent of home; a lighthouse that reminds you of one you visited while living in Boston, a day you had documented and sent Joel some of the photos in the mail to recap your time. It was a day you had been happy there, and it made your heart ache that he remembered that. The last charm on the bracelet is a butterfly, bejeweled with kelly green stones, the color of the leaves that you told him were your favorite years ago. The ache in your chest is worked out of its knot with Joel’s hand at your back, a gasping breath as you blink back tears.

Clearing your throat, your watery smile has a flash of worry crossing his eyes before you hand him the bracelet you’ve taken out of the box, lightly requesting, “Will you put it on for me?”

Joel nods shyly, taking the dainty piece in his hands, and hooking the clasp around your wrist after a few tries. You both admire it, your smile growing wider and his matching yours.

“Merry Christmas, Mari baby. I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, J. I love you, too.”

Now, months later, the bracelet on your wrist glints in the sun as you hold onto Sarah’s hand, letting her lead you around the atrium filled with butterflies. Spending the day at the same farm you three had visited summers ago, and had kept up with the tradition with the summers following, you picked an abundance of strawberries, wandered through the nature paths, and now ending the day at the youngest Miller’s favorite spot.

Sarah wildly points out the different types of butterflies, the encyclopedia book of the insect’s species that you had gifted her for Christmas coming in handy for today as she reads the small signs of each patterned, winged creature, adding in her tidbits that she remembers. A grin stays plastered on your face as you listen intently, paying no mind to Joel trailing behind the two of you.

Giving your lessons on the flora that you know of in the gardens, Sarah listens to you as well. Stopping in front of the small waterfall, surrounded by tropical plants and flowers, the two of you go back and forth in fun facts about plants and butterflies, unaware as Joel saddles up behind you. Sarah glances back over her shoulder and grins, the expression reading as knowing and mischievous. Before turning around, you start to warn Joel behind you playfully, “J, if you’re even thinking about pushing me or splashing me, I will ki—”

Your breath catches when you finally face him, eyes dropping to meet his; the backpack he’d be adamant about carrying all day is at his feet, unzipped, and in his hands is a small, forest-green velvet box. Joel rests on one knee, a soft but bright, devoted smile on his face.

“Oh my god…” It comes from your lips as a whisper, your free hand reaching up to cover your mouth while the other continues to tether you to Sarah at your side, her small giggle hitting your ears as Joel glances at her, sending her a wink.

Eyes back on your face, Joel clears his throat, adjusting himself on his knee as he takes a deep breath, “I have been trying to figure out exactly what to say, and I can’t seem to find quite the right words that tell you exactly how I feel about you. I love you, so much, Mariposa. The second you entered my life, that time I saw you for only seconds in your backyard while I was touring the house, I knew I had to meet you. And then the first time I met you, well, I knew that you were who I needed.

“I’ve been walking around blind, trying to figure out life for years, and moving next door to you, that was the last piece falling into place. You have made my life, and Sarah’s life, a million times better. And while these past few years haven’t been picture-perfect for us, we made it through, and I know that we can take on anything that comes our way. Eres el alma más hermosa que he conocido, y soy muy afortunada de tenerte. (You are the most beautiful soul I have ever met, and I am so lucky to have you.) I’ve been waiting for years to do this, Mari baby, and I can’t have any more summers pass by without you being mine. Tú eres mi media naranja. (You’re my soulmate.) I love you. Te amo, Mari. You’re my soulmate, sweet girl, and I can’t take another day without the promise of forever. Will you marry me, Mariposa?”

Without hesitation, you nod your head frantically, your tears that started falling as soon as Joel started speaking continue to flow. You uncover your mouth, squeezing Sarah’s hand and sharing a smile with her before she takes her hand away.

“Yes, oh my gosh, Joel…of course, of course, I’ll marry you. I love you so much, J.” You squat down in front of him, left hand trembling as you hold it out for him. He carefully takes the ring from the box, and Sarah, ever the helper, takes it from the spot where it rests on his knee for safekeeping. The delicate gold band slips onto your finger, embellished with clusters of tiny gems and centered with an emerald cut diamond. It’s perfectly you, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face as you watch Joel settle the piece of jewelry on your finger. Both of you take a deep breath, admiring the sight before your eyes find each other’s again, matching expressions of complete admiration. Your hands find his cheeks, pulling him in for a tenderly passionate kiss, attempting to breathe all the love in your chest into the kiss and his heart. Joel pulls away first, resting his forehead against yours for a quiet moment.

“Thank you, J,” you whisper, and his head tilts with curiosity.

“For what, baby? I think I should be thankin’ you for sayin’ yes to me.” He chuckles and rubs his thumb at the back of your hand, skimming next to the band of the new addition.

“Everything. For not giving up. Your patience when I was still finding my way back to you. How effortlessly you’ve welcomed me into your life and your family…” Cheating your body away, one hand reaches out to pull Sarah into the small huddle, reuniting the moment within your unit of three, “I just—I can’t wait for all my summers to be spent with you both.”

“I can’t wait either. This is gonna be the first of many, Mari baby.”

And the two of you really couldn’t wait.

Only a week after Joel was down on one knee, your family was throwing you an engagement party. Tommy, a few of Joel’s close friends from his contracting company, your college friends, and neighbors were all in attendance to celebrate the two of you, and it was a big to-do. Drinks flowing, music playing, and food was being passed around. Everything under the warmth of a Texas night and the strung lights across the stretch of your parents’ backyard. Joel was glued to your side the entire night, hand on your back or clasped in yours, grabbing your refills and whispering in your ear to make you laugh.

“So…are all of these people coming to the wedding? ‘Cause I can count about half that I have no idea who they are.”

To that, you whispered back, “I don’t know them either, so definitely not. Unless they wanna buy us the most expensive thing on the registry.” Joel laughed, squeezing you closer — if it were even possible — and pressing a kiss to your temple.

Later, once you two were far past tipsy, Joel mumbled against your ear, barely able to get the words out without drunkenly giggling himself, “D’you think Mrs. Clarke is thinkin’ m’the one that got away?”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, bursting out in the middle of the conversation happening around you two, quickly covering your mouth as the lingering hiccups escape, “I think she’s singin’ the blues about you, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was filled with small moments between the two of you; never left alone long enough to have a full conversation on your own. Whispers of love and affection breathed out, fleeting kisses exchanged. It wasn’t until the party was over, everyone dwindled out the door and back to their homes, that you and Joel took a beat to speak to each other in more than one sentence. The early hours of the morning had crept in without anyone quite noticing, and Sarah was knocked out, brought inside to sleep in your old bedroom around 10pm when she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Joel now held her in his arms, her head laying on his shoulder while the three of you walked the short distance home. After your quiet goodnight to Sarah that went unheard by her sleeping self, Joel put her down, taking off her shoes and leaving her undisturbed to sleep in her clothes.

Back in the ensuite of your, now, shared bedroom, you’re lazily getting ready for bed, movements slower and lagging from the alcohol you consumed. Joel stands behind you, facing your reflection in the mirror and giving you a smile as the exhaustion catches up to him.

“You have fun tonight, sweet girl?” His vocal cords rub together in a fry, hands finding their place on your waist and drawing you back into his chest. Littering kisses at the back of your neck, he hums contently before you affectionately shoo him off to brush his teeth while you apply your skincare.

“‘Course I did, J. Spent most of the night with you, how could I not have fun?” You grin at him from in front of your side of the double sinks, gently rubbing in your moisturizer. “Have you given any thought as to when you wanna set a date for?”

Whatever he responds is muffled by the foamy toothpaste, your face twisting in confusion before he leans over and spits out, rinsing his mouth and toothbrush. Standing back up, he rests his hip against the countertop while facing you, shrugging as he smirks slightly, “As soon as possible. Baby, I’d get married to ya in a garbage dump if it meant we could get married right this second. No puedo esperar para hacerte mi esposa. (Can’t wait to make you my wife.) And I know you don’t want that, and I want to make you happy, so whenever you want, Mari. Lo que sea que desees, lo haré realidad. (Whatever you wish for, I’ll make a reality.) But I will say, summer’s kind of our thing.”

A gentle smile stretches across your lips as you step closer, hands coming to rest on his chest and massaging your fingers gently into the muscles there, “Well, how about we do this summer? I mean, I don’t want anything fancy, just something special for us. Thought maybe we could do it here, in our backyard and my parents’. Where we met and fell in love and broke up and fell in love again and—”

“I love that idea, sweetheart. Think it’s perfect for us…” Joel punctuates his work by stealing a kiss, mint and strawberry lip balm melting on his tongue when he deepens it only for a few seconds, “Think we can manage for Labor Day weekend, mi amor?”

Nodding confidently, your hands skate up to his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss, “I believe we just set our wedding date, Miller.”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

A whirlwind of planning and three months later, you now stand in your childhood bedroom on the second floor of your parent’s house, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror standing in the corner. Your mom had helped you with your hair, a small gold barette holding one side away from your face; your makeup was fairly minimal, fresh, and bright, but nothing too heavy that would melt in the heat that has graced Austin this weekend.

On your wrist is your charm bracelet from Joel, a simple gold locket to match that your father had gifted you the evening before at the rehearsal dinner — it has belonged to his grandmother, and now your grandma wanted you to have it since she couldn’t make the trip down due to her age. It was your ‘something old’ he said, playing into the old traditions that seemed to charm your entire family. 

Your ‘something borrowed’ was a pair of white strappy sandals from your mom, ones that she had worn to her rehearsal dinner when she married your dad. The title of ‘something new’ belonged to the charm hanging off of your wrist that was hand-delivered to you this morning from Tommy, per the request of Joel since you both were getting ready in opposite houses. The gift box unveiled a gold lotus flower, hand painted with deep magenta petals. Inside the lid of the box was a folded note, the words written by your soon-to-be husband in his usual scrawl.

Mi amor,

Got to reading one of your books you leave around about plants, and they were talking about the lotus flower. Made me think of you — since they go back to the murky water each evening and open their blooms at the break of day. You always start fresh, sweet girl, you’re so resilient and strong and pure of heart. No matter what happens, you get through it. And you won’t have to go at it alone, baby. I’m gonna be right there with you through anything.

You make me a better man.

Te amo, mi media naranja.

J

You had to touch up your makeup after having read the note over and over for minutes straight, now fresh faced and eager to get downstairs. One last time in the mirror, you give yourself the once over, smoothing the long, full skirt of your linen dress. The ruched empire bodice lays across your chest, framing your neck with a square shape along with the cap sleeves. Simple, but it feels perfectly you. And now, you were finally on your way to get your something blue: Joel in his navy suit, waiting at the end of the aisle for you.

Everyone’s gathered in their seats, only a crowd of around forty people from your lives occupying the rows, all carefully selected to make the cut. It was easy for Joel, he had three people he wanted there for sure, and well, his daughter didn’t have a choice living right next door, plus with her dad being the groom, and you being the bride. The only chance of a wild card he had was Tommy, but he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning despite the many shots he had the night prior. At the rehearsal dinner of all places.

Dressed and gaffed, he stands at the end of the short aisle after having walked down it hand-in-hand with Sarah, who was donning a lilac dress she picked out with your help and her hair in her natural, bouncy curls. She now sits next to Tommy in the front row, whose new girlfriend Maria is sitting on the other side of him, stealing peeks over the back of the seat to try to catch a glimpse of you at the top of the deck stairs. Joel is doing the same, eyes flickering from scanning over the crowd to tunneling at the opening of the stairs. 

Music starts and it immediately tunes out of his ears, a tingle of excitement radiating from his chest throughout his body. A vision in white, you appear at the stairs with your arm linked to your dad, Mark; he isn’t paying attention to anything but you, captivated by your beauty. His heartbeat kicks up when you walk down, reaching the end of the grassy path between rows of chairs, and stopping for a moment. With the bouquet in one hand, you use the other that was resting on your dad’s arm to give him a short wave that he returns with a grin.

Each step you take brings up tears in his eyes, an overwhelming joy clenching around his heart. A few drop down his cheeks, using one of his thumbs to wipe away the streaks as you give him a gentle smile, speeding up your walk and dragging your dad along with you. The guests laugh at the eagerness, Joel rocking on the balls of his feet as he bites back his wild grin when you finally reach him. Exchanging hugs with your dad, Mark shakes Joel’s hand before clapping him on the back, a sure nod directed to him.

His hand slips into yours naturally, helping you with the last few steps to stand in front of him, exhaling a deep breath. A smile that he can’t wipe off stretches across his face, looking into your eyes as he lifts a hand to wipe his cheeks. You do the same, delicate touch against his skin while your gaze stays trained on his. Beating out of his chest, his heart thumps deeply, the wings of his butterfly fluttering madly in his gut in time with his heartbeat.

“Hey, Mari.”

“Hi, J.”

Everyone settles back in their seats, and your brother stands at the makeshift altar, a carved arbor handmade by Joel over the last few months frames the three of you in front of your guests. You turn to hand off the wildflower bouquet you put together to Sarah, eager to fulfill her responsibility of holding it during the ceremony. She grins, whispering to you loud enough for him to hear when she takes the arrangement.

“You look so pretty, Posey. I’m excited for you to marry Daddy.” Your hand reaches for her curls, squatting down in your dress to address her at eye level, unconditional love shining in your eyes as you look at his daughter.

“You look beautiful, Sare Bear. I’m so excited, too.” Other words are exchanged only between the two of you, a hug shared before Sarah retreats to her chair next to Tommy and you stand up and take Joel’s hands.

Chris ambles through an introduction, recollecting his version of events, as well as both of your sides, for how your relationship has progressed. Humor was laced throughout, laughter bubbling over throughout the crowd of guests, and especially between the two of you when you shared knowing expressions.

The ceremony moves quickly, with no religious elements to extend the length, simply secular. Before he knows it, Chris is reaching the vows, allowing a moment for Tommy to present the rings to each of you, clapping a hand on his brother’s back.

“Don’t fuck this one up, brother. Posey’s a good ‘un. Way too good for you—”

Joel cuts him off with a mumble and an eye roll, “I know all of this, Tommy, but thank you for the reminder.”

Chris directs Joel to go first, a deep inhale and extended exhale fills the air as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze. He flashes a smile at you before he drops one of your hands, finishing in his inside jacket pocket for the small slip of paper.

“I tried to memorize this, but we both know that wasn’t gonna happen…” he huffs out a nervous chuckle, reading over the page before his eyes come back to you, a patient and gentle grin on your face, “I genuinely hope you know how much I love you. I try to show you, to tell you, to make you feel it through osmosis every day, but I truly hope you can feel it. Through all that we have been through together and on our own, I have always had you in my mind. I thought about you every day you were away, and all I was hoping for was your happiness. I cannot tell you what it means that you have found your happiness with me, but I will be thanking whatever forces are out there for bringing us back together. Our roads may have been bumpy, and they may be in the future, but I’m so thankful to have you in my passenger seat. Cause we both know you don’t like to drive.” Joel winks and the crowd of guests laugh.

“I never want to let go. And I’m never going to let you go, Mariposa, I’m in it for the long run.  Eres todo para mí. (You are everything to me.) You are everything I have ever asked for, hoped for, didn't think I deserved. You are…un alma tan pura (such a pure soul) and I don't know how you ended up with me, but I'm countin’ my luck every second of every day. I love you through anything, mi Mariposa, and I cannot wait for our future together, as a family. I’m so happy that you have found a place you belong with Sarah and me, and I feel so lucky that you have chosen me. Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre.”

Recovering from your tears, you choke out a small sob that tugs on his heartstrings, tightening his grip on your hand while his brow furrows softly in concern.

“Happy tears, I promise, J. Very happy tears.” Another sob comes with a burst of laughter, a hand of yours fanning your face. Joel reaches up, wiping away the stragglers, careful to not smudge any of your mascara. With a deep breath, you focus back, centered, offering Joel your left hand. He repeats the phrase from Chris, who recites it from his printed-out online ordainment course before slipping the simple matching gold band onto your finger above your engagement ring, ears ringing when he sees the symbol of his love and commitment on your finger, where it will stay for the rest of his time on this Earth.

Next, it was your turn to recite your vows, Chris pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and handed it to you. A giggle slips from your lips, wavering the small folded sheet, “Couldn’t memorize it either. Got too much to say…”

Joel relaxes in his stance, thumb circling the back of your palm as he listens, the butterfly wings fluttering into his chest and up to his head, love overwhelming his nervous system across his body. You clear your throat, looking up from the wrinkled white sheet, “I didn’t know that one summer spent at home would completely send me on a whole new life path, but looking back, I am eternally grateful that I wanted to mooch off my parents for as long as possible. That first summer, I fell hard and fast, and despite the obstacles, my love continued to root deeper inside of me and grow out new branches with every memory we made together. I am so lucky to have been welcomed so easily into the Miller household, and I cannot imagine my life with you or Sarah there right next to me. You both have brought so much into my life and thanks to you, J, I feel like I have truly found myself. 

“I was always searching for what I was meant to do, who I was meant to be, and what I would leave behind in my life. And while I went out searching everywhere, the answer was my next-door neighbor. I am meant to be your person, I was meant to care and love and create a life with you, and your wonderful daughter, and I know I will leave behind all my love for you and our family behind. My success does not need to be measured by the reach of my impact, but by how deeply I love you. That is all that matters to me, to make you feel loved and supported and to know how incredible you are. You mean the world to me, and I love Sarah as if she were my own; both of you are my best friends and I could not do this life without you. I am so excited to spend the rest of my days, and the rest of my summers with you, J. I love you. Forever.”

The same routine goes for you, slipping a gold band around Joel’s left ring finger. He flexes with the new accessory on his hand, admiring it before he looks at you, a wide and wild grin crossing his face as he listens as Chris starts to ask him that very special question, “Joel, do you ta—”

“Absolutely I do. No question.”

Laughter rises from the attendees, and you, playfully roll your eyes. Chris nods shortly, chuckling as he turns to address you with the same question. He states your name, inquiring, “Do you ta—”

“Of course, I do. Only been waitin’ years for this to happen.” 

Joel laughs, shaking his head as he mumbles a sweet agreement, “You and me both, baby.”

Chris drops the papers he was reading from next to him on the grass, clasping his hands together, “Well, that made it damn easy for me. With the power vested in me by apparently the state of Texas, but who really knows, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Now y’all can kiss finally.”

A hand presses against the small of your back, pulling you into his chest as he folds down, latching your lips to his in a deep kiss, all of his love pouring into the moment. It takes restraint to not take it further in front of everyone, your intoxicating taste drawing him in and quenching a perpetual thirst he has. You lean back first, fingertips digging into his shoulders to hold him off as you whisper, “Gotta keep some decorum until tonight, Mr. Miller.”

“Hard to do that with you, Mrs. Miller,” he rasps back, matching blindingly bright grins across your faces as you right yourself, turning to face your guests as your brother loudly announces.

“For the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

With the low-key, intimate wedding that you both had planned together, there was no real formal separation of the ceremony and reception. Instead, everyone wandered over to the backyard of Joel’s home, which was now yours, too. There were rented tables set up with chairs around, no seating chart, and a checkered dance floor set up in the middle of the lawn. Lights have been strung from his deck to the tree at the back of the property line that holds Sarah’s tire swing, some lanterns strewn about to add more light as the sun sets in the later evening. 

The family-favorite restaurant in the city that the three of you have frequented, even as friends, catered the meal, and your parents, ever so prepared, had stocked up all summer with booze. Your dad plays pretend bartender, getting your now-husband behind the tablecloth-covered folding table and pouring heavy drinks and somehow heavier shots. By sundown, everyone was liquored up enough to cheer for you both to have a first dance, chanting their request over and over.

Joel looks at you from his spot next to you, eyebrows raising in question. His hand at your back draws you closer, starting to sway to whatever song is playing as he grins with a looseness to him, relieved to have you as his for good and relaxed from the alcohol in his blood. “C’mon, Mari baby, I wanna dance with you. M’wife. I got the perfect song.”

“Okay, okay, you go tell Chris what song you want and see if he’s got it on his iPod.” 

You push Joel along, giggling to yourself as he shuffles over to Chris, the makeshift DJ for the evening. Joel leans in, talking in your brother’s ear over the music currently playing. They exchange a smile and nod, Joel laying a hand on his shoulder and shaking it affectionately. His beer gets abandoned on the nearest surface, giddily running over to you and taking your hand. Impatiently, he pulls you to the center of the dance floor, and Tommy intercepts your drink before it sloshes all over the front of you, huffing out a disbelieving breath as you continue to drag behind Joel.

Your husband turns you in his arms, one hand finding your back as the other lifts your joined ones toward his shoulder, elbows bent. Everyone else clears the dancefloor as an upbeat guitar riff sounds out of the speakers surrounding the dancefloor, the bright drums kicking in as Joel starts to shuffle the two of you around the dancefloor, a swing to your movements again.

The familiar lyrics of Orleans’ Still the One that Joel has sung to you many times over the last year are recited right back to you, making you reminisce about the time you were driving in the car to pick up Sarah from camp, a rare afternoon that both of you had off together. The song had come onto Joel’s favorite classic rock station, perking him up in his seat as he turned the volume dial up.

“Oh, Mari baby, this is such a great song.”

Not as familiar with it, you listen, giggling as he sings along with his words pointed at you, and you had to admit, they were pretty sickly sweet. Ever since then, Joel got into the habit of singing it to you, learning to play it after he received his new guitar from you at Christmas.

Dancing with him now, under the sticky heat of the tail end of Texan summer, surrounded by family and friends, he makes you feel as if it’s only the two of you again like it was for every other moment before with this same song.

In your ear, he sings along only for you, pulling away and twirling you as y’all take over the entire dancefloor with how free and loose you’re playing it. “You’re still the one that makes me laugh…still the one that’s my better half…we’re still havin’ fun and you’re still the one.”

At the next chorus, you join him in singing along, laughing at his excitement, both of you singing along louder. The song reaches the guitar solo, and Joel takes both of your hands, swinging you out from his chest before pulling you back in; he spins you to cross your arms in front of you, and your back to his chest before twirling you out. On the last line, when the final word is dragged out, he wraps his arms around you, spinning both of you around until the final chord strikes, setting you down and chests heaving to catch your breaths. Wide smiles still find your open mouths, cheers and whistles from the guests gathered around the dancefloor, now filling the checkered floor as the next song plays.

Breathless, Joel grins madly, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, “Think we did pretty damn good for unplanned, don’t you, Miller?”

“Damn right, we did, Miller.”

The rest of the evening was all the same, a night spent with your closest family and friends all celebrating the two of you and your love. Both you and Joel shared a dance with Sarah separately, relishing in her unbridled joy and Joel comforted his daughter when she shed a few tears about how happy she was. Your dad pulled you for a short jaunt around the dancefloor, and Joel asked your mom for a dance, which she accepted happily as a stand-in for his mom.

More drinks flowed into glasses and out of bottles, your shoes kicked off and Joel’s jacket and tie discarded onto the back of a chair somewhere. Your cheeks ached from how much you were smiling and laughing the whole time, a weight lifted, the promise of forever with your favorite person now on its way to being a reality.

You both ceremoniously cut the small single-tiered cake that your mom ordered, serving the slice on a plate. Grabbing a piece with your hands, you cheers it with Joel’s, watching as his went into his mouth and laughing as yours went across his cheek. He feigned shock, shaking his head as he looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, taking a step closer. A turn on the ball of your foot directs you in an attempt to get away; failing miserably, misstepping from your level of drunkenness, Joel catches you in his arms. Turning you back around to face him, he steals a purposefully sloppy kiss, buttercream smearing against your lips and chin, the taste of vanilla coating your tongue as it melts into the taste of Joel, whiskey, beer, and sugary sweetness from the dessert.

At the very end of the night, most guests in cabs home or retreat to their homes down the street, it’s left to your closest people. The last song of the night is announced by Chris, the same song that has come up again and again for the two of you trilling over the speakers. Everyone dances and sings along to American Pie, the perfect cyclical moment for the two of you, and the closing moment of your summer. Sarah dances with the two of you, laughing as Joel twirls her around, infectious smiles on their faces. 

Your heart grows in your chest, nearly to the point of bursting as you take a step back in your mind, taking in all of the moment as it surrounds you. In the backyard of your new house, the next chapter of your life starts with Joel and Sarah; right next door is your childhood home, full of love and memories with your parents and brother. Even through the hardships, these places and people have never stopped feeling like home.

The song finishes with a flourish, Joel tucking you into his chest after he scoops Sarah into his arms with a soft groan. Sarah lays her head on her dad drowsily and he presses a kiss to her forehead, mirroring the same on yours; a mumble against your skin is barely heard by you, his drawl exaggerated by the liquor, “Mi Mariposa y mariposita. My lil’ Bug. Love my girls so much.”

Tommy slides sleepy Sarah into his arms from Joel after you two say goodnight to her, the younger Miller brother already prepared the arrangement for her to stay at his on the night of your wedding. You reassure her the promise to meet at Waffle House in the morning, which will likely be the afternoon with the state of the adults. Maria, the designated driver, and Tommy, much closer to sober than drunk than you were expecting, send another congratulations your way before they’re off to the car with Sarah.

After the necessary sweep of cleaning is done between you two and your immediate family, food, drink, and lanterns gathered, they part ways, taking everything back to theirs to deal with in the morning along with striking down the tables, chairs, and dancefloor. In the quiet of the early morning hours, you and Joel stand with your arms around each other, swaying gently. Cheek to chest, Joel’s voice rasps from overuse, vibrating your ear pressed against him, “Was it what you wanted, sweet girl?”

“Everything and more, J. I loved it,” you say as you pull your head away, tilting your chin to look into his eyes, “And I love you, m’husband.”

“I love you more, m’wife.” He shakes his head, biting a smile back, “Don’t think m’ever gonna get tired of callin’ you that, Mari.”

“Me neither. Gonna be callin’ you my husband instead of usin’ your name,” you flirt as your smirk grows and he wiggles his eyebrows, hand drifting down to the curve of your ass.

“Guess we better test that theory, baby.” He grins as he bends his knees, lifting you over his shoulder. His other hand rests on your ass to balance you, your hands pressing against his lower back as you shriek slightly from the initial shock. “Want the whole neighborhood to know m’your husband now. Even if they weren’t invited, so you better be loud, m’gorgeous wife.”

He walks you both up the stairs and through the backdoor, your snort echoing in the quiet of the night, pulling out the ol’ faithful from the early days with him, “Yes, sir.”

second nature

“What do you think about getting a dog?” you ask from your seat on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in your lap. Joel pops his head out from the en-suite, brow quirked as he continues to towel off his hair and laugh softly.

“Can’t say I’ve thought about it, darlin’.” He disappears again, hanging his towel on the back of the door before coming back out of the bathroom with a clean pair of boxers on, washed up from his long day on-site. “Have you been thinking about getting a dog?”

A sheepish grin stretches across your face, shrugging your shoulders as Joel gets into bed. He matches your position, leaning back against the headboard and turning his head toward you. He’s intrigued. If he wasn’t, he’d tell you that you could talk about it more in the morning, and then he would give you his honest opinion in the light of day. Never wanting to start a silly argument before bed, always attempting to keep the peace.

Which made him great at compromising. To what you wanted in the first place.

“I’ve been thinking it would be nice for Sarah. Like something to learn responsibility — teaching her to feed it on schedule and take it for walks and fill the water bowl.”

“Yeah, it’ll teach her that I’ll take on all those responsibilities when she gets bored of it,” your husband snorts at his own comment, making you roll your eyes playfully and scoot closer.

“Oh, c’mon, J. Don’t you think it would be fun to have a dog around? We wouldn’t even need to get a puppy if you think it’s too much. But I work at home nannying baby Amelia so I’d be around all day and then when Sarah gets home from school or camp, she can take him or her for a walk. And then feed it before you even get home. Oh! Or you could take the dog to work with you! How cute would that be, you could train him to grab your tools for you.” 

A contagious smile brightens your face in the low lamplight, one that Joel can’t help but mirror on his own face. The eagerness is evident in your expression and your voice, and the proposition doesn’t seem like it would be too difficult of an adjustment. Shaking his head at your suggestions, he laughs quietly while reaching a hair up to smooth your hair away from your face.

“Are you gonna be the one to teach it what all the different screwdrivers are?” 

An excited gasp exhales and you scramble to straddle Joel’s lap, “Wait, are you serious? You’re actually okay with getting a dog?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you lean back to look at his face. His hands find the curve where your thighs melt into your ass, squeezing gently. Always handsy.

“Yeah, baby, we can get a dog.” Joel groans dramatically when you pull yourself tight against him, hugging him while on hand rubs back and forth at the base of your spine. “I’ve got some conditions though.”

Unraveling from his neck, you stay perched in his lap, nodding fervently. “Anything. Whatever you want, if it means we get a dog.”

“Oh, anything?” he teases with another squeeze of your bum, laughing when you shoot him a look.

“Not what I meant, Miller. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Can’t help it with you, sweet girl. My mind’s always in the gutter around you.” The sentiment is punctuation with a tender kiss to your lips and one to your forehead. Calloused palms skate along your bare thighs, humming contently, “Conditions are: has to be a big dog. Don’t want one of those little white dogs or like something that’ll break if we have babies and they’re a little rough with it.”

The forethought he has for your future children warms your heart, and you agree immediately, “Deal. Didn’t want a little dog anyways. What else?”

“Gotta fence in the backyard. I don’t mind putting in a gate for us and your parents to easily go back and forth through, but I don’t want the chance of the dog gettin’ out when we’re all outside.”

“Totally understandable. I’ll even help you install the fence,” you offer proudly.

“That’s real sweet, Mari baby, thank you. You don’t gotta lift a finger though, I’ll bring some of the guys over and pay a little extra and we’ll get it done in a day, no problem.”

“Alright, so big dog, fence. Anything else you’d like to negotiate, Mr. Miller?” you mock a formal tone, turning your nose up. Joel laughs, tightening his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. Kisses press into your neck and along your jaw, pausing inches away from your lips as he makes his final request.

“Dog sleeps in Sarah’s room or downstairs. I like our privacy.” He smirks before kissing you deeply, easily flipping you onto your back and hovering above you. Your legs hook around his waist and he raises his eyebrows, “That all sound fair to you, Mariposa?”

“Absolutely it does. Guess we’re getting a dog, ri—” You’re cut off by his lips on yours again, pressing you further into the mattress with his body weight.

“Let’s save the rest of this for the morning,” Joel mumbles against your skin as he trails his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, “‘Cause right now, I think I’d rather get some pussy.”

He doubles over in laughter at his own joke, forehead pressing against your chest as his shoulders heave. Your fingers comb into his hair, unable to fight quiet chuckles of your own no matter how hard you try to not give him the satisfaction.

“God, you’re such a dork.”

The clock rolls to 3pm as you sit in your car, lined up along with parents of campers. Shrills of laughter and screams echo from the bright, primary-colored playground across the way, counselors attempting to corral the kids to lead them out for pick-up. Air conditioning blasts on you as you fan at the back of your neck, exhaling in the sweltering Texan heat. It’s only the beginning of summer, June barely having turned over, but the temperatures have reached record highs for the year already.

Your stepdaughter. The thought still makes you smile months on, the dynamic between the two of you falling naturally into a closer, more nurturing relationship. Little acknowledgments from Sarah have made your heart sing over the days; routinely saying goodnight to you along with Joel, asking you for permission to go play outside, seeking you out nearly as much as Joel when she has had a nightmare. The pair of you have built routines of your own before bed, you making a promise to Sarah to read with her and to show her your favorite books from when you were her age.

A few nights ago, Sarah had retreated with you to her room, at least thirty minutes before her bedtime to get in another chapter of Matilda by Roald Dahl. The main character reminded you of Sarah’s sweet and spunky personality, and you were so excited that she fell in love with the story and its characters as quickly as you did when you read it for the first time.

Sat up against her headboard, Sarah laid back in your arms and cracked open the novel where her bookmark stuck out, started to read aloud to you in the low lamplight. Mindlessly, you played with her hair as you listened to her confidently recite the words from the page. The day caught up to you, the peaceful moment pulled a yawn from your lungs. Sarah’s words slowed down, her eyes slowly blinking until they closed, which was your queue to slip the book from her hands and mark the spot, and laid it on her nightstand.

When you tried to slip out from behind her to leave her to sleep soundly, she stirred, mumbling the sweetest, “Will you stay for a little bit, Posey?”

And you had no choice but to oblige her request. After getting comfortable next to her, Sarah curled into your side and you pressed a kiss to her forehead, continued to play with her hair to soothe her back to sleep.

What you hadn’t realized was that you also drifted off in her twin bed with her, the lamp still on. Joel was watching TV downstairs, waiting for you to retreat down the steps as you do every night, but no sign of you after an hour had him standing up to go searching. It was quiet when he reached the top of the stairs, no telling giggles or loud whispers to give the two of you away. 

He pushed open the cracked door of Sarah’s bedroom, and was met with a sight that squeezed his heart tight, a sigh exhaled from his lungs. You tucked right next to his little one, and both slept deeply. Without disturbing your rest, he tiptoed over to the nightstand, tugged the blanket up over both of you before he hovered above the bed to press a gentle kiss to each of your foreheads. 

Lamp clicked off, he whispered to your unconscious ears, “G’night, girls. Love you two.”

It was a few hours before your usual alarm when you’d woken up, sore from the small space and glanced around the dark room to discover you had fallen asleep next to Sarah. Carefully slipped out from the covers, you tucked her back in and padded down the hall to your bedroom where Joel was sleeping, a soft snore came from him as he’d starfished out on the mattress. You gently shook him half awake to move him, and he groaned softly at the disruption before he tugged you into his chest and pressed a drowsy kiss to your shoulder.

“Was jus’ too cute to wake you up, Mari baby. My Mariposa and my lil’ Bug…” He hummed sleepily into your skin, hand gently rubbed circles in your lower belly while your eyes close, desperate for those last few hours of slumber. “Makes me so happy.”

“Me too, J. M’so, so happy she’s that comfortable with me. My baby best friend. And you’re my big baby best friend…” You breathed out an airy giggle and Joel protested weakly behind you, a gentle pinch to your side before you both exchanged a quick “love you” and drifted right back off.

The reminder of the sweet moment in the morning from Joel was the highlight of your week.

Climbing out of the car, the engine running and door open, you round the front bumper and stand on the curb to wait. You find her before she finds you, calling out to her to grab her attention, “Hey, sweet pea!”

Her familiar deep brown irises search for the source of your voice, landing on your face and waving excitedly. Sarah checks out with her counselor for the day, scurrying over to you with her backpack bouncing at her shoulders.

“Hi, Posey!”

She collides with your torso, her growth spurts finally starting over the last few months so the top of her head hits just at your chest, and nearly knocks the wind out of you. Patting her back, you laugh and pull her back to look her in the face, “Well, hello to you too, Sare Bear. How was camp today? You ready to go?”

After your greetings, she climbs into the backseat on the opposite side of Amelia’s car seat. You store her bag in the passenger seat with yours before retreating around to the driver’s side, heading off once both of you are secured in your seatbelts.

Flicking your eyes up in the rearview mirror, the two of you catch up, which mostly consists of her recapping the camp activities and excitedly talking about the pool day that’s planned for Friday. As you turn onto your street, Sarah’s brow furrows at the sight of Joel’s truck in the driveway.

“Dad’s home already? That’s weird.”

“Hm, I guess he is. Or maybe he’s just stopped by to grab something he forgot. You know how he is.”

Sarah laughs in agreement as you park your car next to his truck. Both of you get out and head in through the garage, straight into the kitchen where Joel’s standing at the counter eating a sandwich.

“Told you, Sare, stopped by ‘cause he forgot something. Lunch.” You send him a teasing grin as you deposit Sarah’s bag by the door and kick off your sandals. She does the same before wandering past her dad to the fridge in search of a snack. Apple doesn’t fall far.

“What? I can’t happen to drop in hoping to see my wife and my daughter in the middle of my work day? Do I have to have ulterior motives?” Joel speaks, words muffling around the bite in his mouth as you approach the island to stand opposite him.

“Dad, you literally always ask ‘What’s for dinner?’ or ‘What’s cookin’?’ after you say hi to us every day. Your motivation is always to get some food,” Sarah chimes in from in front of the fridge, laughing when Joel looks at her offended.

“See? Even a ten year old recognizes the pattern of behavior,” you confirm your findings, laughing as Joel grumbles to himself and pops the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth.

“Well, for your information, both of you, I am here for an entirely different reason than lunch and to see you two.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking between the two of you with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t y’all go look in the living room and then tell me if you wanna keep makin’ fun of Dad?”

Sarah excitedly starts off toward the living room, giddy about the surprise awaiting her. Your brow furrows and lips twist up in curiosity, eyes staying glued to Joel. He laughs and nods to the other room, a bright smile on his face.

“Better go see, mi amor. Think you’ll want to meet him.” Joel winks, your attention being pulled away when you both hear Sarah gasp from the living room.

“Oh my gosh! Posey, come here! Aw!”

That’s when it registers — the surprise, home in the middle of the day, the smirk, ‘you’ll want to meet him’.

“You didn’t,” you breathe out, head snapping back to Joel as he gives you a wide, genuine grin.

“Go! See for yourself.” He rounds the island and grabs your hips from behind, guiding your steps into the living room. Sarah’s giggles fill the room as the fluffy Bernese Mountain puppy stands in her lap and licks at her face. The small dog’s attention is pulled from her and over to you and Joel entering the room, a tiny bark sounding before he scampers over.

“Joel, oh my god, how did you—when—oh my god…” You kneel down to scoop up the little one into your arms and cuddle it gently, giving it pets before letting him run around again.

“Found someone who had a litter with their family dogs the day after we talked about it. And arranged to pick him up. They said he’s the energetic one, and that he’s gonna be a big boy. Like a hundred pounds.”

“Oh my god, he’s so sweet…thank you, J.” You beam up at him, waving him to bend down and steal a kiss, squeezing his shoulder.

Sarah’s playing with your new family dog, tugging with a rope toy as he fights back with his whole little body. “Thank you, Dad. He’s so cute!”

“What should we name him?” Joel asks as he lowers himself to the floor next to you, smiling as the puppy runs over. The two rough house, Joel easily flipping him over to scratch at his belly as the dog pants happily.

“Any ideas, Sare?” you ask, looking over at her.

She thinks for a moment before looking up between Joel and you, laughing at the tiny pup’s antics, “What about Goose? He just seems like one. Like a silly goose.”

“Goose? I like it, Bug,” Joel confirms, turning to you with a grin, “How about you, Mari?”

Nodding, you look at the new addition to the family, burning bright with happiness at your people’s excitement, “I think Goose is a perfect fit. And now you’re not outnumbered anymore, J. Two girls and two boys in the Miller household.”

Sarah laughs and lays down to cuddle with Goose while Joel moves closer to your side, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your head as he quietly whispers, “Hopefully won’t be too long before the boys are outnumbered again.”

“And what makes you say it won’t be us girls being outnumbered?”

“Call it father’s intuition. Wouldn’t know what to do with a little boy, bein’ a dad to another girl would just be second nature. Plus, I would want a mini Mari running around the world.” Joel presses a kiss to your temple before you turn your head, catching his pursed lips with yours sweetly.

“I’d take anything if it means havin’ a little piece of you forever, J.”

third time lucky

Negative.

A single line, bold and brash, stares back at you. Turning the plastic in your hands, you attempt to read it at different angles, the smallest bit of hope lingering for another line to appear — that it was a trick of the light that was causing your disappointment.

To no avail, the blue strip remains unaccompanied in the small window. A sinking feeling fills your body from your toes up. Everything feels heavier, except your lower stomach. That has never felt as empty as it is now.

Heavy footsteps thump a vibration in the floors, but your focus remains on a speck of dust floating in the light past your field of vision. His presence hangs in the bedroom, milling about, unknowing of what you were up to before he came in from mowing the lawn.

“Hey, baby, m’gonna take a shower and then we’ve got Sarah’s softball game at three. Probably half to leave here around two, her coach asked all the parents to be thirty minutes early for some reason…” Joel’s voice fades in your head as your thoughts start to yell, scream, fight, taunt inside of your mind.

A hard swallow pops your ears, the ringing in them growing louder as your mind begins to wander. The test is left discarded on the bathroom counter, with no heart yet to throw it in the garbage where the others have ended up. Your bare feet shuffle against the rug as you seek out solace under covers, even in the ninety-plus-degree heat. The springs of the mattress shift under your weight, lying on your side facing the opposite side of the bed that lays empty right now. The coverlet is pulled up over you, curling your fingers at the hem tightly, white knuckle grip to release some of the tension that has taken over your mind. You want to scream, cry, yell, question — but what you want most of all is to be able.

Why aren’t you able? Why can’t you do what your body is made to do, what it begs for, what it reminds you that you’ve failed at every month?

Joel stands in observation of you, careful distance, one hand lifting before he drops it. He can guess what this is about. What you’ve left behind in the en-suite. But to confirm his suspicions, he quietly walks into the tiled room, leaving his clean clothes on the counter while he picks up the test.

Negative.

His body sinks, toes up to his head, but with a gaping, empty feeling in his chest. There’s so much room left in his heart, room he is eager to fill with another part of you, another love, another soul to protect. Now, though, all of his emptiness is filled with an ache for you. You’ve been dreaming out loud for a year now, wonderings and visions shared with him late nights and early mornings — Will they have his eyes? You hope so, so that they look like their sister. Who’s ears would they have? What quirks will they pick up from both of you? Who will they grow up to be? How will we be able to contain our love for both of our kids?

Our kids. Joel remembers that night; after you said that, he couldn’t hold himself back, couldn’t contain his love for you. No hesitation that his own was yours now, too. All he wanted was to give you another, to see your belly grow and your smile brighten and your skin glow. He was begging for whatever power was in the universe for that time to take, for both of you to be gifted with what you wished for so often, so deeply.

Desperation. Wavering confidence. Sorrow, worry, dwindling hope. He saw it all over you, time after time when the single line appeared on the plastic sticks.

You and Joel had been trying for a year. A long year. Maybe your desire was too strong, too overpowering. But shouldn’t that be a sign of your love? For each other, for your family? All he wants to do is give you the life you’ve wished for. And yes, all you’ve said you want is a life with him, but anyone who meets you would be able to tell you are meant for a nurturing life. Meant for motherhood.

It was already natural for you, taking a ten-year-old in stride, making her into your best friend — making her a priority over Joel most of the time. He knew it didn’t matter to you that she wasn’t yours, biologically speaking, but he can’t help but want to give you a child that is part you. How badly he wants another piece of you in the world, all of your goodness packaged into the purest soul.

Resigning with a sigh, he sets the test down on the cool countertop and exits the bathroom, a slow stride over to your lying form. Crumpled under covers. With a soft groan, he lowers himself to his knees with cracks popping his joints. His age is starting to show the closer he gets to forty and the more hours he works in the summer weather, another looming factor for him — he’s only known being a young dad. If you two have to wait, what would it be like to be nearly sixty when your kid graduates high school?

Shaking the superficial concerns from his head, his wide palm glides along the quilted fabric draped over your side. He rests his chin on his opposite arm, laying against the mattress close to your pillow. At the coax of his touch, you turn over to face him. Lips pursed in a frown, dried watery streaks being washed anew with your fresh tears, fat and rolling down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose. They drip off of your skin, dotting and darkening the fabric of the pillowcase underneath you.

Joel leans in, brushing your hair from your face and pressing his lips to your forehead for a lingering kiss. A deep breath draws the smell of your shampoo into his nose, down deep into his lungs where it soothes his aching chest.

“Mari, sweet girl, I know it’s hard. I know we want it so bad, but there’s always another option,” he speaks softly, kindly, delicately, “We can go to that fertility specialist your doctor recommended. I promise, mi amor, we’ll have a baby together.”

He means it, and you can tell he means it. Ever since you had been back together, ever since he confessed his feelings for you — years ago now — he hasn’t made an empty promise. From tiny little things like a pledge to stop on the way home for your favorite ice cream, going to three different stores and adding nearly an hour to his day simply to show up with it for you, to larger, grander oaths, his wedding vows, the promise of building a beautiful life with you.

Emotion is thick in your throat as you attempt to vocalize your concerns. They keep you up at night, with Joel’s warm and expansive hand resting on your stomach right above your womb as he sleeps soundly. He wants it clearly as much as you do; you can feel it each time you’ve tried. How badly he wants to provide this for you.

Is he having the same thoughts as you? Does he wonder if something’s ‘wrong’ with you?

“I wanna be able to do it. Why can’t I do it on my own?” The sound of your meek voice shatters his heart and he shakes his head back and forth, adamant in shutting down the thoughts.

Tugging the covers down, Joel’s hands find your exposed skin, sliding across with a clammy touch from his labor outside. And nerves, too, you’d guess. Moving from his knees on the floor next to the bed, he finds a spot sitting at your side and shifts you to lay on your back. Opening up to him. Warmth rests over your womb, blanket pulled down to the tops of your thighs while his thumb brushes at your stomach, catching on the fabric of your shirt.

“No—oh, mi Mariposa, you don’t even know if it would be you with an issue. Very well could be me. Maybe breathin’ all the paint fumes at work killed m’little swimmers.” He breathes a small laugh through his nose, attempting to lighten the mood.

Your hands fly up to your face, muffling your voice, “Oh, god, don’t say that. I wanna have your baby, not some sperm donors.”

His hand coasts up your torso, over to your side to wrap around your rib cage, feeling your breaths as his fingertips lightly tickle the spot, “That was supposed to make you laugh, sweet girl.” 

Hands falling away from your face, your brow pinches together and your frown deepens. About to make a retort, your mouth open, Joel skates the fingertips of both his hands up and down your sides, alternated on each side of you to make it harder to catch his wrists. Laughter bubbles up from your chest, your frown morphing into a flashing smile before you’re calling for a surrender in between gasping breaths.

Relenting, his hands stop, settling at the curve of your waist. He leans over you, nudging his nose against yours before pressing a ghosting kiss to your lips. A small grin, hopeful and reassuring, with a tinge of worry flickering in his irises, barely there before his smile reaches his eyes, “It’ll happen for us, Mari baby. Why don’t we say, one last go before lookin’ into the doctors? We’ll do all the things, track whatever we need to track. I’ll drop whatever I need to come home and put a baby in you.”

Joel wiggles his eyebrows, playful smirk crossing his expression. You roll your eyes under him, pushing an accusing finger into his chest, “Like you don’t already do that. I could call you in the middle of work and just go ‘Hey, J’ and you’re in the truck on your way home.”

“That’s right, Mari. As it should be. Y’know what they say — happy wife, happy life.” Another kiss to your lips, this one a bit more savoring. “What d’ya say, mi amor? One more go?”

“Okay, yeah. One more go.”

Butterflies kick up in your stomach when you hear the low rumble of Joel’s truck cut, heavy door swinging closed and quick strides following. The front door opens after a short jingle of keys, shutting behind him with the slide of the lock back into place. Distant grumbles of his make you laugh, his frustrations with his work boots floating upstairs to where you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on your hands. Clad in only your bra and panties, you work your bottom lip between your teeth as anticipation builds with each of Joel’s footsteps up the carpeted stairs.

You both only have the afternoon — less than an hour of your afternoon, actually — to make your last attempt. Already having taken advantage of the window in your cycle twice, the peak day of your ovulation fell, of course, during the busiest time of year for Miller Construction. Summer has come to a close, and now people have picked up their home improvements to start nesting for the winter; a craving you’ve been having yourself, desperate to make your home larger and livelier by one more. Joel has snuck away for a moment that you two have alone, and you’ve told the couple you nanny for that you have an immovable appointment for today.

Pretty sure the only thing that will be immovable today will be you once Joel’s hour is up.

 “Mari? Mi amor?” he calls out and you chuckle softly at the boyish excitement in his voice.

“In the bedroom, J!”

Joel rounds the doorway into your shared room, stopping a handful of steps past the threshold when he registers the sight of you. He hums a low moan, licking his lips as his eyes devour your lacy undergarments, “Mierda, mi esposa, estás tratando de matarme? (Shit, my wife, are you trying to kill me?) You look so fucking beautiful, darlin’.”

A low whistle leaves his lips as he stalks closer, eyes rake over your form as you present your primped self for his taking.

“You get all pretty for me, sweet girl? I like this…” he rasps as he’s within arm’s reach now, stretching a hand out to toy with the strap of your bra and snapping it against your skin sharply.

“Wanted to look pretty when you fill me up, J.” One curl of his finger under your chin draws you to sit up straight, tilting your head back to look at Joel towering over you.

“Good girl,” he praises, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “You want me to fill up your sweet little cunt, Mariposa? Want me to give you a baby? Tell me.”

“Yes,” you breathe out shakily, eyelids fluttering closed as his hands trail lightly across your exposed skin, ghosting everywhere you need him most.

“More, sweetheart. Dime. Dime cuánto lo deseas. Suplicar por ello. (Tell me. Tell me how badly you want it. Beg for it.)” His instructions float through your head, only keywords translating in while Joel leaves over you, lips pressing feather-light kisses along your neck, across your chest.

“I need it, Joel. Need you so fucking bad, I wanna have your baby. Want you to make me a mom, fill me up as many times as it takes until we get our baby…please, J…” As if the taste of you wasn’t enough to do him in, the wild, fervent look in your eyes intrigues him beyond. Hearing the words from your lips, directed to him, he’s fucking aching. He was growing hard on his way over here, the thoughts swimming through his mind of you laid out and ready for him to take delegating his blood supply to rush down below his belt.

He needs you, but first, he needs to see you unraveling underneath him only from his fingers.

“Don’t worry your pretty little mind, Mari. M’gonna take care of you. I’ll make sure this one takes. Let’s call it third time lucky this summer.” 

He shoots you a wink, your mouth parting to respond. Before you can let any breath escape, his lips are crashing with yours. Heavy, heady, and so fucking hot it spirals your thoughts into nothing. His tongue melts with yours, the taste of his black coffee and the donut he must have eaten at work this morning tingling your taste buds. Sweat sticks to his skin when your hands rest at the sides of his neck, falling backwards as he climbs over you. He smells of wood shavings, freshly mowed grass, and hard work — calloused hands gliding along your body and feeling the softest of scratches of his blue collar hands.

“Joel, need you — please.” It’s more of a whine than a begging whimper, rising frustration levels from his lack of touch in the place you need and want him the most. 

Your cunt is desperate, dripping down your folds and surely soaking the sheets. A quick jerk of your hips attempts to brush against him, to catch any relief for the need building low in your stomach. A large palm presses your lower half back against the mattress, the other hand pushing your leg to the side to open you up further for him. A knuckle brushes your clit, grazing up and down your seam through your soaked panties. Your husband clicks his tongue as he shakes his head at you, patronizing tone slick in his voice.

“Darlin’, I wanna take every second of my time with you. Are you gonna let me? Gonna let me get your cunt squeezing my fingers? Gonna let me fill you up, mi amor?” he asks, as if you wouldn’t say yes to all of those requests and he knows it. Nodding, a desperate yes exhaled when he applies more pressure with his finger against your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Good girl. Siempre tan bueno para mí. (Always so good for me.)”

Joel folds over your, taking one of your perked nipples into his mouth through your bra and sucking. His tongue flattens against the cup before he’s pulling at the nub with his teeth. The material is darkened where his mouth was when he grows a bit more needy, grabbing at the straps and yanking the bra to rest at your midsection. You slip your arms out of the straps and he pushes you further onto the bed by the back of your thighs, stripping your panties off and settling on his knees.

Pressure forms against your clit from two of his fingers, slow circles dragging a moan from your throat. Joel smirks, satisfied with the way you squirm under him, trying and failing to get more from his hands. Before you can vocalize a whine, Joel is over you again, bringing his attention to your now bare breast while the circles continue. Hot, humid kisses are littered on the soft skin, happy hums rolling from Joel’s chest. He pulls his head up, looking down at your chest with a half grin and his dimple on display.

“You’re gonna get so soft and swollen everywhere, Mariposa. Round belly, huge tits—can’t wait to play with ‘em.” His grin widens, boyish and brazen with the glee that the fact fills him with. “You gonna let me, baby? Gonna let me make your sore tits feel better with my mouth?”

His question goes unanswered as his mouth attaches to one of your nipples, sucking and flattening his tongue as he nurses it. Pulling away with a pop, he mimics the same on the other side, the intensity of his suckling along with his fingers rubbing faster against your clit — even slipping down to tease at your entrance — has you wiggling under him, desperation notching up your spine.

“Joel, please,” you plead, choking on your breath when he pulls the bud of your breast between his teeth, a low growling sound rumbling from his throat. 

Two of his thick fingers push into your dripping cunt, a relieved moan echoing against the walls of the bedroom. Curling up into your spongy walls, they thrust quickly and pet at the certain spot inside of you. Joel’s mouth is still at your chest, his hunger feeding itself on the taste of your skin.

“Fuck, Mari, gonna break my fucking fingers off. So fucking tight.”

A distraught whimper crawls from your chest, breaths heaving as your walls clench around his quick-paced fingers. You gasp when he slips a third one in, hooking them up. Despite the stretch, you still feel an emptiness. All you want is his cock inside of you, spilling into you and leaving you to grow fuller with his baby. The thoughts of him above you, fucking it all deeper into you to reach your womb, drive you over the edge. The tips of his fingers press against that spot inside of you, his warm mouth hanging open at your tit while his eyes watch you come undone. Writhing and walls pulsing around his fingers, his name falls from your mouth as you choke out moans and your vision grows dark.

“That’s it, Mari baby, fuck,” Joel works you through the orgasm before his fingers leave you and he sits back on his haunches. Sucking his digits clean of your slick and come, the other hand rubs your thigh gently before he coos down at you, “That was a big one, wasn’t it? Feel good?”

Still coming down from it all, your body feels liquidity, taking whatever form Joel is molding you into right now after he’s stripped himself bare. One hand slips under you, unclasping your bra and tugging it away from your torso, leaving you as naked as him. His eyes drink in your body while his grip holds your calves, chuckling darkly when you finally breathe out a response, “I feel…like I need you to put a baby in me.”

“Cualquier cosa para usted, mi esposa. Vas a estar tan lleno de mí. Te encanta la sensación de mi mecos dentro de ti, ¿verdad? (Anything for you, my wife. You're going to be so full of me. You love the feeling of my cum inside of you, don't you?)” Your head rolls with a nod, agreeing to anything Joel says in the moment, still hazy from how hard he’d made you come moments ago. Half-lidded eyes watch as he licks his fingers, stroking his cock a few times with a quiet sigh. That’s something you could watch all day — Joel’s pleasure. And here underneath him, you have the perfect view, and the perfect position to be used for it.

Fully handing over control to him, his hands tug you up so your ass sits on his thighs while he’s on his knees. Fingertips skate along the distance of your legs, grabbing at your calves to rest them on his broad shoulders. Even the slightest shift forward from his hips stretches you wide, a delicious ache creating a craving for more.

“Tell me how bad you want it, Mari, tell me how much you wanna have my baby.”

Joel’s gripping his length, rubbing his tip through your wet folds. The notches against your clit quiver the already stretched muscles in your thighs, whines replacing words coming out of your mouth.

“Tell me, or I won’t give you what you want, mi amor.”

“I want it so bad, J. I wanna feel you fuck me so full of you, and I don’t want that feeling to leave. I feel like there’s an emptiness and only you can fill it, I want your baby. Wanna have everyone know how good I am for you, carrying your baby like you want me to. I wanna have a part of you forever,” you gasp out the last word, Joel’s cock inching into you. Muscle memory takes over, your whole body relaxing with the knowledge that he’ll take care of you — he’ll always take care of you.

Joel bottoms out easily, filling you to the hilt before he pauses to take a breath. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, sweet and sincere, while holding your shins, “I fucking love you, mi Mariposa. Wanna give you a baby…”

“Pleasepleaseplease—” You don’t know if you’re begging more for him to give you what you want or to move his hips, but in the end, you get both. 

Joel starts out slow, shallow thrusts keeping him inside of you. Grunts from the controlled movements fill the room, your small whimpers following each noise he makes. The sound of him fucking into your cunt captures his attention, gaze zeroed in on where you two meet. Watching the stretch of your tight pussy around his cock, he feels the burning desire for more. To watch you take it deeper, harder.

The next snap of his hips is just that - smacking his skin against your ass before he adjusts, laying you back completely on the mattress and leaning over you. Your legs are still hooked over his shoulders, the burning of your muscles now straining your hamstrings and glutes. His entire body folds you, his head hovering over yours as he fucks into you further. The tip of his cock kisses your womb, the force of his thrusts driving your hips open more for him.

“Gonna — fuck — gonna make you a momma, Mariposa. That what you want? Get fucked so well, be so full of me that we make a baby? Everybody’s gonna know I treat my wife right. With your round belly…swollen—ah—swollen tits. Gonna be so beautiful, and so fucking sensitive everywhere.”

His words only add onto the feeling of his thick cock filling you up, nearly verging on too far and too much. Moans exhale on your lips, his name repeated like a chant with each harsh snap of him into you. Your hands scramble for purchase as his sheer power drives you up the mattress, sheets scratching against your bare back. One set of fingers dig into the meaty flesh of his shoulder, nails pressing crescent shapes like an iron-hot branding.

Above you, Joel studies how your mouth has fallen open, thoughts completely left your mind with how cockdrunk you are. He gingerly grips your chin, holding it to face him and commanding your eyes to his as he pants heavily.

“What d’you wanna make me, baby?” It’s only met with the sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you, the slap of skin as you gasp under him. “C’mon, Mari baby, use your words.”

“A daddy,” you breathe out, your opposite hand combing into his messy curls and gripping tight.

“Say it again. Dime.” Not thinking it was possible, Joel pushes you further, hitting into you harder with each thrust nudging his tip toward your cervix. You might only leave this afternoon with soreness, but you continued to hold out hope for a baby to be the well-worth prize for how you’re going to feel tomorrow.

“A daddy!”

“Dime. Dime. Dime,” he commands and you listen, writhing under him as he hacks away at your shared resolve, throwing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy — oh, fuck, a daddy. Wanna make you a daddy!” You’re yelling at this point, sobs of pleasure wracking your body and you thank god for a split second that the two of you are home alone in the middle of the work day. Surely the whole block might be hearing all of your wanton sounds.

“God, I could get used to you calling me that, Mari baby,” Joel groans and throws his head back, bearing his teeth as he punches his hips into your clenching pussy, the telltale sign that you’re close.

“C’mon, mi amor, give it to me. Come for me and I’ll let your fucking pussy milk me for every last drop. That’s what you want, right? Gotta fill you up and make a baby for my Mari baby.” He’s rambling as you reach your peak, toes curling and coming even harder than your first one this afternoon. 

A near scream pulls itself from as deep as your gut, the sound as if you were in more pain than the absolute pleasure you feel. Your grip on his hair tightens, drawing him down for a messy kiss as you mumble against his lips.

“Please gimme a baby, J. Need it all inside of me, please. Come for me, mi esposo.” 

The name sends goosebumps across his shoulders and trickles down his spine before he’s barking your name once and spilling into you, painting your walls with each rope. He takes a moment to breathe before he gently presses his hips in a few short thrusts, fucking his spend as far into you as possible.

Joel collapses against your torso, no other efforts exerted to move away. Delicate, nimble touches brush the hair from his sweaty forehead, rubbing his shoulders as he hums contently.

“Fuck, baby, might just have to stay inside. Keep you plugged up so I can stay here all day with you.” Quiet, breathless laughter leaves your lips as you shake your head, tracing along his jaw before he turns his head to press his lips into your tummy.

“Can’t wait for you to be a momma. Gonna be the best one ever, y’already are. Love you so much.”

The two of you lay like that for what feels like hours, only to be reminded of Joel’s limited schedule when his cell starts ringing from downstairs. Getting up with a groan, he slips out of you and lifts your hips, stuffing a pillow or two underneath them to keep your lower half elevated. You roll your eyes at the superstitious gesture, gasping when his fingers push into you once more to put his leaking come back into where it belongs.

“Gotta make sure it takes, pretty girl. Wanna see you get all round with my baby in you. Everybody’ll know how good I am to you, huh? Pumping you full of me so much we made a new fucking life…better stay like this until I get home again, Mari baby. Wanna make sure those lil swimmers get all the help they can get.”

“Mm…” you hum, hands grabbing for him to lean over you again. Sneaking a kiss, you pull away to whisper to him with a grin on your lips, “Better get back to work…daddy.”

He snorts out a laugh, beaming a bright smile as mischief glimmers in his eyes, “Mal. Mala chica. (Bad. Bad girl.)”

Three days late. You’ve been tracking your cycle like a mad woman, ticking off days in the notebook next to your bed, and now you’re officially three days late. Joel and you had agreed to wait a few days after you expected your period, hopeful that the extra time meant a more accurate, and desired, result.

The kitchen timer sitting on Joel’s side of the bed ticks away while you side on the edge of the bed. Tapping your fingers against your thighs, bare skin against your fingertips from the high hem of your denim shorts. Joel paces the room, eyes focused a thousand yards ahead. Anxiety and anticipation had been plaguing both of you all day, work slugging by minute by minute, second by second. Joel had left the jobsite as soon as was acceptable, leaving Tommy to wrap up, and swung by the pharmacy to pick up a new box of tests. Your task for the day was to chug water, or any liquid, all afternoon — by the time Joel was one foot through the door, you were ready to burst. Snatching the bag of tests out of his hand, you ran to the bathroom to pee in a plastic disposable cup and stick at least three tests in.

Now, you two are waiting for more seconds and minutes to tick by, added to the tally of the entire day. As you’re about to stand and stop Joel from burning treads in the area rug from walking his tight circles, a trill of a bell vibrating demands your attention. Turning off the noise in a flash, you stand and cross the room to where your husband is now frozen in place. A gentle touch to his cheek, his eyelids flutter close and he takes a long exhale before opening them again.

“Ready?” you ask, uncertainty pitching your voice up.

A minute nod, one shake of his chin, Joel’s hand finds the small of your back as he responds, “Ready, mi amor.”

His hand guides you into the bathroom, and a handful of steps from the three tests laid out on the counter, you turn around, panic twisting your expression. Joel stumbles to stop his collision with you, large palms grabbing onto your biceps to catch himself.

“M’scared, J…” Your voice is meek, cracking with emotion. This is the last shot you gave yourselves, whatever is laid on the counter either means unbridled joy or a long road of poking and prodding in countless doctors’ offices.

The warmth of his hands rubbing your arms and the press of his lips to your forehead coax you to relax, to take deep breaths, “I know, Mari baby, I would be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t scared too. But no matter what is on those tests, we���re in it together, right sweet girl?”

His index finger hooks under your chin to draw your attention up to his face, a small smile filled with love and reassurance stretching his lips.

“Always in it together, J.” You take another deep breath, turning around and nodding shortly, “Okay, now m’ready.”

“That’s my girl,” he mumbles before he’s following right behind you again, the two of you pressing yourselves to each other against the counter. Joel has an iron grip on your hips, nerves manifesting in the squeezes of his hands. Shaking fingers turn over each test before picking them all up to your lines of vision.

Two lines. Two bold lines screaming at both of you, across all three tests.

Positive.

Positive. You’re pregnant. You and Joel are having a baby.

“Holy shit…” Joel exhales behind you, smile creeping into his voice. Somehow, his grip gets even tighter as he turns you around, “Holy shit! You’re pregnant, Mari. We’re havin’ a baby! You’re gonna be a momma!”

Giddiness overcomes both of you, happy and disbelieving laughter while you hold each other in a tight embrace. Joel litters kisses around your face, catching your lips last — all teeth and tight lipped from your matching grins.

“You’re gonna be a dad again, how’s that feel?”

“Like I won the damn lottery, mi amor.”

Another kiss, supple and heavy. Joel pulls away first and shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours, “I love you so fucking much, Mari.”

“I love you too, J.”

“You ready to go, Sare?” you ask, standing next to her seat at the kitchen table where she’s working away at her homework, reaching a hand out to play with her curls. She smiles and nods, writing down one last answer to a question on her worksheet before she lays her pencil down and stands up, rushing over toward the door.

“Just gotta get my shoes on!” she calls out, and you smile, shaking your head.

“Take your time, sweet pea! God knows it’s gonna take me longer to walk over to the door.” Your joke falls on deaf ears of your husband, who stands at the kitchen island and rolls his eyes before he’s crossing the room over to you. Within arm’s length, his hands cup the bottom of your large belly, leaning in for a sweet peck.

“Nobody cares if you move slow. Better to be careful than—”

“Careless, yes, I know. I think those might be our baby’s first words since they hear them so much from their dad,” you tease and he shrugs, kissing you again while his touch wanders across the flannel of his that you’re sporting, too tired to buy more maternity clothes that you’ll grow out of and opting for his closet every morning.

“Jus’ looking out for my girls. All three of ‘em.” He beams proudly, brown eyes shining brightly before he turns you in his arms, accompanying you to the front door where your near-teenager is waiting. Ever the sweetheart she is, she’s got your purse slung on her shoulder, car keys in hand to pass off to you. You thank her quietly, turning back to Joel as he looks between the two of you.

“Alright, have fun with your girls’ day. And call if you need anything — either of you. I’ll be waitin’ here for ya.” Joel smooths down Sarah’s hair before kissing the crown of her head; she squirms away, the teenage attitude rearing its head in some early moments, especially with her dad. There’s less patience for him, which you completely understand as a teenage girl once yourself. He huffs out a sigh as she slips out the door, heading down the front path toward your car.

“Hey, s’nothing. Teenage girl things. She loves you, and you’re the best dad.” A hand on his cheek coaxes him down to your lips, a supple kiss exchanged before he pulls away and bends to kiss the top of your belly.

“Bye, my little June Bug.” He stands upright again and steals another kiss, mumbling, “And bye, mi Mariposa. Drive safe, let me know if you need anything while you’re out. I love you.”

“We love you too. And m’speaking for the moody one, too.” Joel chuckles and rubs your bump once more before sending you on your way, watching and waving from the door as y’all drive away.

The plan for today had come about when you started to notice Sarah growing quieter, retreating to her room more often after family dinners and denying the chance at movie night some days. Joel had noticed too, but was a bit nervous to broach it with her, not wanting to make her feel bad about being more independent.

Your relationship with her though was much different to Joel’s. There was the foundation of your caretaking role with her, much more of a friend with authority when it was only you two before you were anything close to a parental figure. More open and, well, you could relate more to what she was going through. She confided in you first about girls at school being catty, about her growing crushes on boys in her grade. And this year, only a month after your due date, she will officially become a teenager. It was a strange time in any girl’s life, full of growing pains.

And on top of all of that, add on a new baby arriving. Attentions drawn elsewhere, priorities shifted to preparing for the baby. Sarah never fell to the backburner in your minds, but you didn’t know how she was feeling. Guessing by her quiet actions, you could tell she was feeling left out but didn’t want to stir up trouble.

Always the sweet girl. And you knew how that was.

So, you’d asked her for a girls’ day, excluding her dad from the fun and giving both of you some time with each other to feel like it was years before. It was all about Sarah today, no mentions of baby — no buying diapers or supplies or clothes. A promise made to yourself to make Sarah feel special, because that is exactly what she was. The baby on the way may be your first biological child, but nothing can compare to the unique bond that you have with your Sare Bear.

The day was spent waddling throughout the mall, helping her pick out new outfits and shoes for the end of the school year. Collecting a haul, you two stopped off for lunch and a trip to the nail salon before you finally made your way back home in the evening. Sarah was smiling brightly in the passenger seat, joking around with you and eagerly telling you all about the latest school drama. Your heart was about to burst with how much she’d come out of her shell again all day, even wanting to show off her new things to her dad when you both got back.

In the living room, Joel greets you two from the couch, eyes widening and a low whistle leaving his lips when he sees the damage done, “Quite some shoppin’ there, Bug. Y’all buy out the whole store?”

You wave him off and encourage Sarah to show off her haul, walking over to settle onto the sofa next to Joel. The younger Miller excitedly starts pulling out pieces and showcasing them, excitedly telling her dad exactly where she plans to wear them. His hand rests on your leg, attention completely focused on his daughter in front of him, squeezing you gently when she gets particularly worked up over something. You can tell he feels what you were in the car, heart bursting that she seems like herself again after a day spent with you.

“That’s nice, Sare Bear. I like the color,” Joel comments on the last shirt Sarah holds up, her smile still beaming as she tosses it back into the bag.

“Thanks, Mom actually picked it out! I thought it would be fun to have for camp this year, since I’m gonna start the counselor training program…” Her voice trails off as Joel listens intently. You, on the other hand, take deep breaths to hold it together, the simple moniker rolling off of Sarah’s tongue so naturally. Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, and baby Miller kicks her feet against your tummy — equally as excited.

You manage to keep it calm while Sarah recaps the rest of the day before she gathers up her shopping bags to take to her room. As she’s leaving the room, she’s quick to run over and give you a hug, leaning down to meet you where you sit on the couch. Your belly sticks out between the two of you, but regardless you pull her into a tight squeeze as she says thank you. Her curls bounce as she scampers off upstairs, the quiet sounds of her feet in the hallway queuing your watery eyes to overflow and for your nose to sniffle. Joel is grinning brightly next to you, pulling you into his lap and holding you against him as he wipes the few happy tears away.

“She called me Mom…” you whisper to your husband, afraid to admit it any louder as if it would disappear.

Joel presses his forehead against yours, a sweet kiss against your lips before he whispers back, “You have no idea how happy it makes me to know she feels that way about you.”

“I just…I feel so lucky. And maybe it’s hormones, but oh my god, I can’t stop blubbering. I’m a mom.”

“You’re the best mom. Have been to Sarah since she met you, and you’re going to be the best mom to our little one on the way.”

June 21st, 2009.

The first day of summer.

It’s the first day of summer and you’re stuck inside. Not at home, no, you’re currently propped up in a hospital bed with your legs in stir-ups, breathing in between contractions. Exhaustion weighs on your body, a full hour passing of you pushing in time with the pain in your abdomen that radiates all over. Sweat sticks your hair to your forehead and Joel sitting next to you brushes it out of the way. His other hand is limp in yours, ready to be squeezed with a vice grip whenever you need to push. Joel leans over you in level with your head, lathering on encouragements.

“You got this, Mari.”

“So strong, baby. You can do it.”

“Thank you, mi amor, thank you thank you thank you.”

The last one comes after a string of complaints against him doing this to you — despite you both knowing you begged for it nine months prior — and for having such a big head in his own baby photos that he had to have passed down to the baby.

Another wave kicks in, your doctor and nurses coaching you to give another final push. Putting every last bit of your energy behind the flex of your muscles, groaning out with pain and frustration before a piercing cry fills the room. Heavy, tiny sobs ring in your ears.

“You did it, baby, m’so proud of you. Our little girl,” Joel says in awe, glancing between you and where the doctor holds your little baby girl, summoning Dad over to cut the cord. 

She’s taken away to be cleaned up and Joel returns to your side, ready to help you attentively through the afterbirth. You wave him off, begging him to go keep an eye on your little girl. Once she’s clean enough, the nurses lay her on your bare chest, the sight of her tiny fingers and toes bringing about your own cries. Your hands hold her there, delicate touches brushing against her soft skin and her damp but full head of dark brown hair.

The rest of the process is painful but smoother, shorter. Before you know it, all tests are done and Joel is next to the bed again, wiping a damp cloth across your forehead.

A rush of adrenaline, pure unfiltered need and excitement to meet your daughter keeps you awake, sitting up carefully as you accept her into your arms from your husband who’s wearing the biggest smile. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand on your leg as you study the features on her small face.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she, Mari? Looks like her momma.”

You beam, shaking your head as you place a fingertip against her nose, “See, I think she looks like her daddy. Already got the grumpy brow.”

Both of you laugh, your unbridled attention on the tiny bundle in your arms as you gush over her for minutes longer. Joel rubs your leg, drawing your eyes up to him as he asks, “So you think we picked a good name?”

“I think we picked a perfect name. Our ‘S’ girls,” you grin at him before looking down at your little girl, “Skye Isla Miller. I think it suits her perfectly.”

A bit more time is spent between only the two of you and Skye before you’re itching to see your eldest, and for her to meet her little sister. Joel retreats to where Sarah’s in the waiting area with Tommy and Maria, who’s now three months pregnant herself, waving her to come back with him. She nervously enters the room, quiet as a mouse until you reassure her with a smile and welcome her to sit in the bed next to you.

Joel makes the introductions, voice thick with emotion as he stands over his three girls, watching as his first little one meets his second, “Sarah Elena, this is your baby sister, Skye Isla.”

Sarah quietly asks permission to hold her; you lay Skye in her arms carefully, teaching her how to support her head and where to avoid her soft spot. Sarah picks up on it like a natural, adjusting her little sister when she fusses a bit, finally settling into a new set of familiar hands.

“Dad said you did a really good job, Mom. With everything today. S’pretty cool that you brought a whole person into the world…” Sarah glances over at you with a shy smile before addressing both you and Joel, “M’really happy she’s here.”

“You’re gonna be a great big sister, Bug,” Joel beams with pride as he squeezes her shoulder, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. He hums as he looks over you three, “Got my Mariposa, my Bug, and my little June Bug. Mi maripositas. Don’t think anything could beat seeing my three girls altogether finally.”

You find yourself observing your family from afar, listening with muffled ears as Joel and Sarah chat about who Skye got what features from. Cheeks aching from smiling, you can’t help but think that this summer was off to the most wonderful start, and that every summer after was only going to get better. 

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholic @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @planet-marz1 @kiwisbell @lizzie-cakes

#joel #writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #joel miller series #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey girl I’ve just seen your Elijah x plus reader post, could you do one for klaus?

klaus mikaelson x plus size reader headcanons:

— warnings, lots of talks of body image, insecurities of weight & appearance, talks of binge eating, KLAUS BEING THE BEST BOYFRIEND!!!

first of all, klaus thinks you’re the most beautiful person to ever walk this earth bro

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL

he adores you so much bby

this man will legit get mad if you mention anything negative about your appearance

“do you think my stomach looks werid in this d—“ “no, my love, it does not. please stop with this utter nonsense, you look as beautiful as you always do. extremely, extremely beautiful.”

“i don’t like the way my arms—“ “little love, if you even think about finishing that sentence with an insult to your heavenly self, i will throw you over my lap and spank your arse raw.”

you finished the sentence

WHENEVER HE BUYS YOU CLOTHES HE ALWAYS BUYS YOU FIGURE COMPLIMENTING THINGS!!

he loves you are ur body an actually obsessive amount 😋😋😋

“why would you even want to hide such beauty?”

LITERAL HEART EYEESSSSSS

when you wear said clothes his whole breathing stops, his eyes widen, he blushes, he stutters

he’s actually a little simp for you icl

ofc if you say to him the clothes that gets you, you won’t wear bc they make you genuinely uncomfortable - he will stop

BUTTTTT continuously tries to convince you bc he genuinely doesn’t understand why you would ever want to hide your body away when it’s so perfect and beautiful

he never oversteps any of this boundaries with you tho!!

if you tell why they make you uncomfortable (i,e they highlight my figure etc) he’ll just be SOOO confused

“that is the point, my love. your body is gorgeous - why would you want to hide it?”

I WOULD DIE

if you ever tell him you’re scared he won’t be able to lift you bc of ur weight or something…

he’s always picking you up, spinning you around, carrying you places, making you sit in his lap even if there’s a chair available to you just to prove you’re being RIDICULOUS

he’s all smirks and dimples as well like ‘you sure about that love’

when or if you decide to open up to him about your binges and cravings - he takes it all very seriously, anything to help his little love!!!

he’ll explain to you how he manages to get over his cravings for blood and try to help you if that’s what you want

BUT HES JUST FULL OF SOOO MUCH REASSURANCE AND LOVE FOR YOU BABE

hes actually the best bf

don’t every try test me on that

he knows that expressions on your face when you start feeling insecure about yourself and your body and immediately he’s there with you and kissing you all over your face, pulling you away from everyone else and whispering compliments

and/or taking the piss out of the people around you to distract you and make you laugh that laugh of yours he loves so much

my man 😋😋😋😋😋

#klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus imagine #klaus x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus x you #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikealson fanfiction #sub klaus #the originals imagine

[passionpeachy]

I hope that hatemail anon isn't the ask that stays with you in-between all the love and validation you are receiving. They truly, sickeningly miss the whole point of body positivity and it frankly made me gag seeing them judging and evaluating you by their pretty egregiously misogynistic and sexualizing perspective on what they deem to be attractive, their unwelcome judgment on your ability to find a partner, etc and the rest of their ask is pointless, overstepping projections and assumptions. The facade of advice they wrote it with just makes it feel like fucking negging. You don't owe them any apology or justification against any of the shitty things they wrote. It's your blog in the first place. I really empathize with the self-image issues you've opened up about and it warms my heart to see the warm and validating reception you've gotten from showing a willingness to be vulnerable, and I'm sure most of your followers agree.

Of course not. I didn't mean to reply to it then just disappear for hours, I was just on a phonecall

I wouldn't let one anon dillute all the sweet messages I've gotten from all of you. I’m so red-faced from all the cute things you’ve all told me lol. Thank you so much again.

It didn't elude me that their "concern" was extremely backhanded at best, but I try to handle everything calmly and with the benefit of the doubt in case they come back insisting on their veneer of "concern", and it’s just kinda the person I am unless someone really pushes it.

I also wanted to make a point that’s important to me: It struck a nerve that I should "just" reach out to my local nonexistent lesbian community, and I wanted to say I really wish the lgbt+ community on here will consider that perhaps people come from different backgrounds from theirs and what is “just” to them can be “impossible” for others. I wish they would consider it.

#asks

[maryrouille]

Toxic romanticization of studying

In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.

The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.

1. You shouldn't get up at 5am

First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!

2. You can be a genius without good grades

Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.

3. It's not cool to think you're better than others

We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.

The good thing about romanticizing studying

As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.

1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be

We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?

Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.

2. Not just cramming, but also discovering

Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.

3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice

Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.

Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.

*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)

#study aesthetic #healthy studying #study motivation #studyblr #dark academia #light academia #studyspo #study inspiration #study inspo #study blog #studying #productivitytips #studyblr community

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 3: mirror sex

stray kids 1.5k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Bang Chan NSFW

🖤 warnings: undernegotiated kink, implied consent, themes of negative body image🖤

🎂 happy bang chan day~

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

Truly, these are the dangers of not pre-booking a place to stay.

Last-minute travel isn't usually your thing, but an unexpectedly long weekend means that there's finally time in your favorite guy's backbreaking schedule for a little getaway.

But last-minute travel, with no hotel booked, means love motels.

They're not as creepy as they sound, not usually dirty or weird. Inexpensive, yes, and usually a little older than the resorts and boutiques that most people prefer. They get a bad rap just because of the connotations, but like, people have sex in all kinds of hotels.

You think it's kind of cool, honestly. Homey, in a weird way.

The person at the front desk is a nice older lady, and she doesn't even blink as she asks if the two of you have any plans this weekend.

"Plans outside the room, I mean."

She winks. She's not subtle, but it's sweet.

And now, in the elevator, Chan is looking around in unmasked horror. Taking in the garish burgundy interior, the thinly-veiled adverts for sex workers taped to the walls.

"It's not that bad," you say.

"It'll be fine for two nights," Chan replies, sounding as if he doesn't believe that at all. "Anyway, we're only sleeping here. We'll have stuff to do."

"Oh, come on. We might as well put the place to its intended use."

Chan scoffs, as if the idea of using the sex motel for sex is ridiculous.

"As long as the room's clean, that's all I care about," you continue. "It's a hotel. Whatever."

"Whatever," Chan agrees tentatively.

He's still lying to himself, but he does relax a little.

When you get to your floor, things are extremely normal. Nondescript hotel decor, the faint smell of carpet cleaning solution and lemon furniture polish. Cleaner than other places you've stayed for far more money, honestly.

The room itself is at the end of the hall, which you like, for the privacy, even though there are only five or six rooms on the floor.

You let yourself into the room, and it's as clean and fresh as the rest of the hall. Again, about as good as it gets in terms of a cheap hotel.

"See?" you say.

Chan looks at you, clearly unimpressed.

"What? It's clean. I'll check for bedbugs, but other than that..."

He points upward.

There is a giant mirror stuck to the ceiling above the bed, but nowhere is perfect.

"Even that's clean," you joke.

The surface of the glass is spotless, no fingerprints and not even any dust that you can see from down here. Chan still looks unhappy. Cleanliness is obviously not his concern.

"Don't be a downer," you say.

"Why do people like that?" he grumbles.

You've set your bag down on the armchair in the corner of the room, rifling through it for your toiletries to set out in the bathroom, but you humor him without looking. "Like what?"

"The mirrors."

"In the room?" you glance at him. "Isn't that, like, the sex motel cliche? The heart shaped bed, the red lights, the mirrors?"

This room only has one of the above. Pretty tame.

"It just means you have to - I mean, you can already see your partner, why would you need-"

"You're really thinking about this," you interrupt.

He is. He really is, standing beside the bed and staring up at his own reflection pensively.

"It's so you can see yourself," you add, walking past with your armload of cosmetics.

From in the bathroom, you hear his answer, still pouty.

"Why would I wanna do that?"

Oh, here we go.

"Some people get off on it," you say.

He scoffs a laugh, humorless. You're being generous by not calling him out, here, because he's being self-deprecating. You hate that.

"I'm gonna terrify myself in the middle of the night," he says.

That might be true. He's a little bit of a scaredy-cat. But that's beside the point.

"That's not your actual problem, though," you reply, as you come back into the room proper.

He shrugs.

"Haven't you ever been curious?" you ask.

"About what I look like?" he shoots back, glancing back up at the mirror. "Done. Wow."

"I mean during."

Immediately, like flipping a switch, his ears flame pink. "Not really."

"No? Never?"

He looks at you pointedly. He knows what you're doing. You're not subtle, so that's fine.

"We should find out," you say, grinning.

It's a challenge, now.

Your gorgeous, gorgeous boy hates how he looks. That's common knowledge for anyone who's tried to get him to take a photo together, or shop for clothes, or compliment him on a new haircut. Most of your mutual friends just ignore it. But sometimes you just can't stand it.

He would never be the type to want to see himself in the mirror in the throes of passion, uninhibited. Which is exactly why he needs to give it a try.

"How easy do you think I am?" he accuses, correctly.

"I dunno." Instead of bothering him more, you flop down onto the bed yourself, feet still on the floor, staring up at your reflection. "You tell me."

The bait is laid, and like always, his insatiable ass can't help it. You two haven't had proper alone time in what feels like forever. He nudges between your knees, standing over you as you lay there on your back. You already like the look of the scene in the mirror, the way that his reflected form looms, the way it makes you look small.

"You know," Chan says, "We could put this place to its intended use."

You grin at your own words recycled. Great minds and all that.

"What an idea."

"Just an idea," he assures you.

He drops onto his knees, nudging you up the mattress to make room for himself.

You almost lose track of your own plan, once he kisses you. Hands roam, clothes are lost, the ease and comfort of something you've done so many times. For a while, it's just an encounter like all the others. His hands that know you, his warmth and presence and attention.

And then you remember, suddenly, once you're nude and he is too, and he's asking you how you want it.

"You on your back," you say, trying not to smile at your own ingeniousness and reveal the plan.

"You got it, baby."

He flips over, and he's settled fully into the pillows with you halfway onto his lap before he looks up. He looks up at the ceiling, and he realizes.

"Wait-"

"Gotcha," you smirk, settling fully on top of him.

He could very easily just knock you over and change things up, or he could ask you to stop, and of course, you would. But he doesn't. He just flushes, red again down his ears, his neck, and he covers his face with his hands.

"That's not gonna work," you say, peeling his fingers away from his eyes.

"I can't believe you tricked me," he says pitifully.

"I did no such thing," you reply. "But now that we're here, why don't we play a game?"

"Something tells me I won't like this game."

"Here's the rules," you say.

You pause long enough to rise onto your knees, to seek out his length - desperately hard, revealing that you haven't freaked him out too badly - and line him up.

"I'm gonna make us feel good. And you...have to look."

Chan pouts, putting his full lips to good use. "I'd rather look at you. Don't you want me to look at you?"

He punctuates it by running his hands up your back, hips to shoulder blades, soothing attention from gentle fingertips.

"I think you should look at yourself," you tell him.

"But-"

"Actually, no. I think you have to look at yourself," you decide.

He peeks upward. His flush deepens.

You're not sure why he doesn't like what he sees. From where you are, it's stunning. His slim body lines, the sharp cut of his face and his dark eyes against the bleached-white hotel sheets. Distractibly, biteably pink and embarrassed.

"If you don't look at yourself," you add, dropping your hips just enough so that he can feel you, "I'll stop."

He looks overdramatically betrayed, like a dog when you take their toy away to throw it. It's cute enough that you reach down to squeeze his face in your hand.

"That's the game," you say.

"Fine."

His voice is an embarrassed squeak, but that's consent, baby. You trust him enough to know that although he hates losing, he's not going to yes you to death if things are actually feeling uncool.

Permission granted, and his eyes dutifully trained on the ceiling, you ease yourself down onto his waiting length.

Curiously, once you're seated and he's swearing through his teeth, you tilt your head up to look at yourself, too. The angle isn't as good to see you, but you've got the gist of it. Your spread thighs, your arched back, the little bit of motion as you grind on top of him.

Nice.

"Don't we look good?" you ask, sweet as can be.

He nods against the pillow. "You look-"

"Not me," you tut. "You're not supposed to be looking at me."

Chan swears. You wait.

"I...I look..."

After a second, he swallows, and squeezes his eyes shut.

Pity.

You pull back up onto your knees. His wet cock slips free.

"I told you the rules. Keep looking at you."

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #skz smut #skz fanfic

[talonabraxas]

The Sword of the Archangel Michael

The Sword of the Archangel Michael represented by both the Eastern and Western traditions. An element of strength and a symbol of healing, it is perhaps the most widely used icon by artists to represent Michael the Archangel.

What does Michael’s sword actually represent?

Michael always presents his sword in such positions that they can suggest a control, a limiting action but never a bloody action on evil. In reality, the sword represents the very sharp and peculiar essence capable of separating good from evil.

The separation and segregation of evil, preventing its spread and the action of corruption on the human being, are the power of Michael’s sword.

During the war in the heavens between the Hosts of Angels led by the Archangel Michael and the rebel angels, Satan was defeated and fell to Earth along with his angels and there was no more room for him in the heavens.

Therefore the evil represented by Satan and his angels has been separated from the kingdom of heaven. And in the relative representations, Michael holds him and looks after him, under the feet of him threatened kept separated by the sword-cross.

Therefore, his is not a fight aimed at destruction, there are no tense faces, the tension of the struggle, violent movements in the representations of him. Michael does not destroy and does not judge, this is the task of the creator, of God.

That’s why he stands with the of him-who as god? -a extreme defender of the divine regency over the cosmos because he places the power of judgment only in the hands of the supreme creator and nothing in creation can be like God.

During the fight for the body of Moses’ Michael turns to Satan, defeated again saying – You judge yourself God. The same Christ attitude of Christ on the cross that says – Father forgive them – and not I forgive you!

Evil is said to be so intrinsic to the human being that a clear separation would cause death. This is why the relationship with Michele can only be reached with a path of awareness towards him. In order to give way to his sword to separate more and more the evil that is in us, preparing us for the coming of Christ in our hearts.

This is the task of Michael’s sword, to separate Good from Evil

Then we can think of asking, of using this sword, a gift of Michael himself, to those who offer themselves with awareness to him by relying on them, to separate us from all that evil that we carry with us.

From a disease, from an evil deed, from the burdens of our conscience, from a negative past existence. If we have become aware of this, Michael will free us by severing these bonds with his sword, enabling us to advance on his path.

There are also representations of Michael with the sword in his left hand, this representation, more than all the others, highlights the female aspect of Michele, I would say that it is almost a point of contact with the representation of the Virgin.

We could say that the feminine traits of these representations combined with a feminine power of the sword as a gift and healing are very close to the essence of the Virgin whose path is united to that of Michael on the path of Christ.

Sometimes the sword is represented handled or made of intertwined branches to symbolize the Caduceus of Mercury, an image also reinforced by the representation of Michael with a winged headdress. In this case the image of Michael is strengthened as herald of Christ as a symbol of union of the energies of heaven and earth.

Another very common representation in all traditions is the flaming sword to represent the most spiritual qualities of Michael, his Christic energy.

Sometimes, rarely, the sword is held by the blade instead of the hilt to represent the healing powers that Michele offers us. Provided you recognize and accept the Christic way represented by the cross formed by the hilt. Which comes in such representations highlighted. we could say that the sword held by the blade actually represents a cross.

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: A page from Trigun Maximum. In the top panel, Vash has his arms outstretched to hold his gun. His right arm, sleeve and all, is distorting and cracking as part of it twists and extends up into a branch that has curled around and caught a bullet in mid-air. Little feathers, like the beginnings of wings, are extending from some of the cracks. Vash is wide-eyed, frantic-looking. The bottom panel shows a closer up image of Vash's face and upper arm, showing that the branch has caught the bullet just inches from his right eye. The bullet is still turning and giving off smoke as it expends its momentum, the thin branch evidently extremely strong to hold it. End ID.]

Not that I don't love a good wingfic/wingart but I think we've got some REAL wasted potential in leaving out how much Vash's extensions are both feathered and resembling leaves, bark and branches. And evidently capable of not just warping his body but the fabric of anything he's wearing. The first time I read this I thought this might have been as much of a surprise to him as it is to the reader--that he's so off his game today that he has a closer call than he has before and reacts with an instinct he didn't know he had. My current read, based on a panel below, is that he did know he could do this, but usually does his damndest not to. He is off his game, not fully in control of his reactions, so he slips and does something he normally avoids at all costs, possibly because he knows what the reaction will be...

[ID: three panels from Trigun Maximum. In the first, Meryl is collapsing, clutching her head in both hands, her mouth open and eyes wide in terror. Milly is throwing her arms around Meryl with a frantic expression, yelling "Ma'am! What's wrong, Meryl?! Hang on!" The second panel is a flashback to Vash's partial angel transformation, focused on the inhuman scream on his face and his right arm transforming into the Angel Arm weapon. The whole panel is overlaid with a staticky filter that makes this dark and chaotic. The third panel is a close-up of Meryl's terrified expression, in a photo-negative style so that her skin is dark and her hair is light. End ID.]

PTSD is a BITCH. Meryl seems to be holding it together after Ryutsu Citadel--she often comes off as the kind of woman who prides herself on being level-headed and keeping her shit together in chaotic situations--but this unanticipated transformation triggers a whole-ass flashback and that throws her into a level of terror we've never seen her experience before, not even when she was actually kidnapped, because that's how PTSD be. All that terror that she would have felt at the time had she not been full of adrenaline and anger and panic, unloading out of nowhere when there's nothing else to interrupt it. I'm glad Milly is there, she seems like she gives good hugs, but GOD this hurts to see--especially since it generates more grief and guilt for Meryl because of how her reaction drives Vash away. She's vibing with Wolfwood on the "this guy is terrifying but he's also the best person I've ever met and I can't help being in love with him" but she's had WAY less time to process knowing what Vash is...

[ID: Four panels from Trigun Maximum. In the first, Vash looks angry and frustrated, his teeth gritted as he looks down, panting, "Sh-shit!" The second panel shows some random generic townspeople looking on with wide-eyed, startled expressions. The third panel has reduced those same townspeople into pitch-black silhouettes, with only their eyes and mouths visible as blank white lines as they say, "Did you see that?", "He's a monster", and "He really does have the power of the devil." The fourth panel shows Meryl, her arms cradling her head and mostly covering her expression, but one eye is visible, wide and crying. She's visibly trembling. End ID.]

With so much Christianity about it's not surprising that some people jump to "he's a witch!" but still, OUCH. Vash's frustrated expression here is what makes me think that maybe he did know he could do this--he has, after all, seen Knives create his blades from his arm--but he really, really, REALLY does not want to and usually avoids it at all costs. He's just that far off-kilter to begin with and accidentally doing this does not help. I have to wonder if he's ever done this before and gotten the "burn the witch!" reaction before... that REALLY wouldn't help his fear/lack of knowledge about his own body as an independent plant if he never actually explored what he can do because he wants so badly to be perceived as human/pass socially among humans. And if showing his non-humanity so deeply terrifies not just strangers but even someone he was getting quite close to like Meryl, why wouldn't he hate and fear himself?

#Trigun #Start your projectors folks #I'm having feelings about being visibly disabled in public myself #Meryl's PTSD is no joke but you just KNOW that Vash can't really untangle her fear from the Ryutsu Citadel shit #from the crowd reaction to him being Visibly Not Human #He feels inherently unfit to be around humans when he doesn't Look Normal Enough #Though in his case it's not just how he looks #These powers that he doesn't understand DID destroy a city and DID kill people #He knows people have a good reason to fear and hate him #God dammit both of these people deserve and need full-body Milly hugs but there's only one of her