#a home made of warmth
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coquelicoq · 1 month ago
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it's about...longevity? stability? it's about natsume believing he'll be somewhere long enough to plant flowers and see them bloom. it's about him taking touko seriously when she asks him to tell her what flowers he wants to plant. it's about making something with his own hands, building a future with the fujiwaras. it's about him repairing a rundown home for someone else, restoring it because it's beloved to them, because it's the home of someone they love. it's about him seeing touko's joy and thinking about the youkai saying we'd like to look upon her happy face forever. it's about the box garden making him think of the fujiwaras' garden and his parents' garden, about the flowers being both the memory of flowers that bloomed there before, and the flowers that he and the youkai planted earlier that day. it's about him waking up in both worlds with sensei. it's about touko finding the petal in his hair. it's about him feeling how he falls short and the youkai saying, but you have such gentle hands...
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sincerely-sofie · 6 months ago
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*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*
Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.
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#ah yes. the struggle of seeing yourself as a machine incapable of truly having an emotional connection with others#no matter how deeply you long for such things#whilst simultaneously seeing that deep longing within you as a mistake. a flaw. an imperfection#you were made to be absolute and impartial#to be biased in favor of your charges beyond that which your ‘programming’ dictates is shameful#you are broken. you are flawed. you want and you want and you want and you’ve never stopped /wanting./#you aren’t supposed to worry or care or love. you weren’t made for it.#and if you were not made for it then you simply cannot worry or care or love.#these /things/ that haunt you and make you inefficient are not emotions.#they are your imperfections; flaws in your make; symbols of your failures to live up to your purpose#you are broken. you are flawed. and you want so deeply that you can scarcely keep the longing inside you#such a failure you are; to not only survive the fall of the metropolis you were built to give your life to defend#but also to stoop to and revel in such indulgent imperfections as these false emotions the moment your makers are gone to dust#Fun Fact! Sen doesn’t require sleep#and spends every evening standing outside of Sharpedo Bluff / whatever campsite the gang have set up to guard the entrance.#she doesn't stay inside at night because it wasn't something done in the metropolis she hails from.#sentries are meant to watch over their charges. they are not meant to indulge in the pleasant and dry warmth of their homes.#Kip hears about this eventually (he thought it was just Sen not trusting people enough to sleep around them) and FLIPS OUT#“PLEASE would you come inside IT'S LITERALLY HAILING”#Sen is taking so much hail damage and has the gall to look at him and say “You should return to your home. the weather is unfavorable”#Kip just screams into his hands because he might have found someone even worse at self-care than Twig#And with that#it is beddy-bye time for Sofie :)#the present is a gift au#pmd oc#pmd ocs#pokemon mystery dungeon#pokémon mystery dungeon#pmd explorers#pmd eos
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oddly-casual · 1 year ago
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I’m gonna try and keep this as non spoiler-ey as I can, but one thing about Mutant Mayhem that I appreciated was that the sewers felt lonely. Every iteration of tmnt makes the lair feel lonely and isolated at times because the turtles are literally forced into hiding (except for Rise, their lair always felt like a home).
But in MM they took extra steps to make the space feel cramped and dark, no major lighting source aside from lamps, candles, and phone lights. Warm colors are scarce in the sewer and the pipes and valves take away any space they could’ve have had, not just in their home but everywhere in the sewers. It actually makes you not want to be in the sewers, because it’s all cold. Even the bars of the sewer grate look like prison bars! Every time they close the manhole cover it sounds like a door being slammed, like they are sealing themselves away.
Obviously this changes, and MM isn’t the first to do this, but it’s the first time watching anything TMNT related that I actually felt uncomfortable in the space that was supposed to be their home.
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comradesnufkin · 3 months ago
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hymns-across-the-stars · 3 months ago
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making you the patron saint of something
artificer ~ patron saint of houses
but not of homes. only the shells of what keeps us enclosed. houses can be decorated or well-built or crumbling or haunted but only a home can truly be warm; you are the patron saint of that lack.
~ ~ ~
mirage ~ patron saint of martyrs
the patron saint of those who died to be like you. maybe you died to be like them too: but at the end of it, you weren't like them. patron saint of tragedy. saint of saints. it's you who holds the hands of the holy dead, and you who has to answer: what do they do if they regretted it?
Tagged by: stolen teehee
Tagging: @savior-of-humanity @distrxst @heaven-said and after this point idk who did this so steal if you see pls <3 <3 <3
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lynxalon · 1 year ago
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just faun
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jvzebel-x · 11 months ago
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🦋
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sheltershock · 1 year ago
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Finally got the determination to do a row of crochet today. It’s still fun! And still a great excuse to watch YouTube videos guilt free!
I want to burn though my yarn stash but I have to finish this blanket first.
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allgather · 2 years ago
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they had given kakashi the courtesy of someone delivering the news in person. he was the first to know, as he was next of kin. iruka only took a few missions every year, just enough to remain in active duty. they were usually low-paying, low-risk missions that utilized his medical ninjutsu. unfortunately, that very skill had painted a target on his back in this case. his unit had been ambushed, iruka had gotten caught in the crossfire. just when they thought this cycle of needless bloodshed had ended, another death was dropped at kakashi's doorstep.
he doesn't say much, not at first. after he hears the masked man infrm hi of iruka's death, the world goes quiet. it feels impossibly small, condensed in every halted thought in his brain & chest. he's sure the man is telling him the details, but he can't hear them as they spill from concealed lips. he does catch one phrase, however.
' iruka's body is in the konoha morgue ' a pause. he must have noticed how pale kakashi had become, how difficult it was to control his impossibly even breaths. The man then forces a letter into Kakashi's hands in an unfortunate sort of understanding. the details didn't matter right now. there were bigger feelings to swallow. The messenger departs, leaving Kakashi in a silent world.
kakashi often lamented over death, what could happen if he were to lose those he loved. but it was too painful to think that he might outlive iruka. he wasn't sure who he would be without iruka's warmth, guiding him from day to day. even now, as he opens to read the letter he cannot bare to retain any of the words sprawled down the page. the writing was neat, impresonal, full of facts. It was a bastardized memorial to the man they represent, lacking any of the warmth Iruka had maintained in life.
None of it made sense, so he crumples the paper in his hand. He tears it in half once, then again & again. He's not sure when the lamp by their shared door hits the wall, nor if he had been the one to throw it but he does know he cannot breathe. he cannot think of how his knuckles split when they go through the wall of their shared apartment. he closes his eyes to shut out every reminder of iruka's already suffocating absence that littered their home. burning lungs force out an ugly sob & before he knows it, he's on the ground. he can't stand, he can't breathe, he can't think. iruka can't be gone, it was impossible.
At some point, Naruto shows up. They had made plans for the evening to catch up, to grab a bite to eat... but news spread fast & grief was a terrible thing. He helps Kakashi clean up the glass & Kakashi washes his bloodied knuckles. together, they cry. they will have to plan the funeral in the coming days, but for now they remember iruka & grieve for all the love they had for him that no longer had a place to go.
My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it.
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1980ssunflower · 2 years ago
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missing them...
#ot3: ❤rhyme💛easy💙#tape entry circa 1980#im feeling so lost in everything and i just need my min and ryan so bad to feel better...#i just wish i was HOME w them both that i was home in the 1980s#i want to take a nap w them both im so tired#im tired all the time lately#id like for them both to take me on a surprise roadtrip#to pop in a mixtape they made for me and jam out#to hear all the songs they associate w me and ones they know i love#or tuning into the radio#there wasnt nearly as many ads back then... theyd play a good handful of songs w practically nothing inbetween#and then throw in a couple ads real quick to get back to the songs#we can order take out and listen to the radio in the background and talk abt where we're going next#taking over as driver and looking over at min whos looking over the map while i hear ryan playing his acoustic in the back and singing...💖#night spent sleeping together in the back of the van and others sleeping in a motel room#i love the idea of that kind of freedom w them both that my home is wherever they are as long as we have eachother#but i also love the idea of just always being able to go home to them w our own cozy living space#to fall asleep w min and ryan on the couch and to wake up to the tv static after they went off the air#hear ryan snore and feel how he clings onto me while min protectively holds onto us both#the sounds of their breathing the warmth of their bodies the rhythm of their heartbeats... its all just so comforting#and being able to wake up w them to do things like help min style his hair in the morning and make breakfast together while ryan sleeps#to eventually wake him up w the promise of a tasty breakfast and kisses 💛💙#i just miss them... more than fucking anything#i would finally be ok and happy if i could go home to them both#to have a free life w them making music and having fun#every part of me always every moment of every day longs for them and misses them... and loves them...
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kittyeekcube · 1 year ago
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soo i made a uquiz where we make a friendly exchange. u give me a little piece of yourself & i give you back a little playlist for u only<3 let me know what u got in the tags<3
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ffsg0jo · 6 months ago
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ex-boyfriend toji, who's constantly being pestered by megumi about you. you're not his biological mum, but the boy's formed an attachment to you and craves your affection and warmth. you're the closest thing he's ever had to a mother, having been in his life since he was 3, and he loves you like one too. his dad is all hard and muscles and frowny, and you're all soft and sweet and always smiling at him. it's no wonder his dad couldn't keep you, he thinks.
you never raise your voice at him, feed him the best home-cooked meals, and even help him with his homework (he doesn't actually need help, he just likes the way you let him sit on your lap whilst you're on the floor and wrap your arms around him, struggling to figure out what long division is). even after you and his dad break up you never once held it against him (like other exes had) and you never stopped visiting him.
you're hands down the best (ex) girlfriend toji's ever brought home. you actually made an effort to get closer to megumi and get to know him more often. always looking for fun little things to take him to. whether it's a petting zoo, aquarium, or a normal zoo zoo.
you learnt quickly how much he loved animals and never failed to surprise him with a new plushie. one could never have too many plushies, you said to him once, booping his nose and pulling out a cute turtle from behind your back.
(when he finally moved into the dorms in first year, he had about 3 boxes alone, full of stuffed animals. he didn't have it in his heart to pick and choose which ones to take with him, so he brought all of them. you laughed at first when you saw the flood of plushies on his dorm floor when helping him move, but megumi gave you a small smile, repeating your words from almost a decade earlier.)
mini follow-up/context
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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screampied · 9 months ago
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Imagine how much stamina jjk men has during sex, can you please make this a multi headcanon?😭😭
❛ RIDE IT LIKE YOU OWN IT! ❜
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geto, toji, gojo, choso, sukuna. rating the jjk men stamina and how long they last.
warnings. mdni. fem! reader, multiple órgasms + rounds, dirty talk, praise, doggy, full nelson, daddy kink, unprotected s*x, pussydrunk men, breath play, squirting, breeding kink.
word count. 2.6k
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☆ GOJO
without question, gojo could last for hours. many, many rounds. you’d be so drunk from his cock that by this point his moans start to grow even louder than yours.
“f-fuck, the way you fuck back against me,” he’d groan, his bottom lip pokes out before he’s got a mean grip on your hips. you’re just being drilled by this point from his dick, your head thwacking and hitting back and forth against the cushioned mattress. he’s so whiney, huffing and puffing as his eyes stared right at the mounds of your ass. you’d be slamming back into him, and your ears just ring from each individual spank he gives you. “how long ‘s been, baby—? gettin’ tired yet?”
“no,” you’d moan, and he’s buried balls deep, its like fatigue for him just wasn’t real. entirely nonexistent. gojo pivots his hips, rolling it against you while skimming his thumbs against your waist and you whine. “don’t s-stop.”
“wasn’t gonna,” he groans, and he feels the warmth of your feet wrap around his calves—you were speechless, mouth dangling open as he’s thrusting deep deep into you. “princess, y’know what you can do for me?” you swallow, feeling gojo lean in right up against your ass, one hand clinging onto your hip, another going between your legs. “play with yourself for me. remind me how much of a messy girl you are.”
“okay..” you’d whine, dragging a hand amidst your legs.
you wince at bit at the feeling of your thin panties sticking against you. gojo made you keep them on, lazily just pushing them towards the sides of your legs, all because he couldn’t wait. impatient.
whenever gojo would come home from day long missions, he’d give you bedroom eyes almost instantaneously. and you knew what that meant.
“s-satoru,” you’d babble, rubbing a few fingers against your clit, he’s got your head pressing into the mattress so good — small noises of surprised squeaks elicit from your throat. he made sure the arch you had was simply immaculate. your pussy continuously clenched around him, the girth of him easily stretching throughout your cunt. “fuckkk, fuck, right there.”
gojo gets off from your pleasure, and as he stares at your jerking body, he quickens his pace a bit more before uttering out a soft,
“oh…s-shittt,” and that’s when he feels you tighten up for a second. gojo’s breathing starts to pick up, thighs aching, and he knew exactly what was preparing to build up. “baby, fuck when…when you grip down on me like that ‘m gonna c-cum again.”
and he’s serious, deadly.
his base unremittingly whacks against your slick little entrance. your fingers were barely doing any sorts of stimulation because all the attention was going straight towards gojo’s mean rich thrusts. “damn, ya always jus’ milk me every—every fuckin’ time,” and as he spoke, he made sure to match his words with his hits against your cunt. “c-can’t stop ‘cause this pussy won’t let me.”
strands of spit trickled down the corners of your lips due to your mouth being open and you moaned, feeling gojo push you up—you’re matching his lewd rhythmic pace before he lets off a sharp gasp, dumping another load into you.
“g-god, you…you always know how to make a mess out of me,” he shudders, feeling every inch of his body grow staggeringly hot. such lengths of ropes — his cum fueled you up, it was sticky and you craved for more. gojo’s breathing was irregular, and yet he still wasn’t tired.
after all….he was the strongest.
so that meant, going again and again. even if that meant going all day, because one of gojo’s favorite things was to train your pussy, you.
☆ TOJI
his stamina would be equivalent to a horse. when toji fucks…he fucks.
“nah, don’t run now, y’er the one who’s been begging for me to give this pussy attention,” he’d gruff, and your tongue was just lolled all the way out — dragging and scraping against the fabric sheets of the bed.
toji treated you like a rag doll. you’d be pushed up against him, and he’s got you in full nelson. thick cock driving right into your cunt. you find your legs being all up in the air and you’re just whimpering frenetically.
“nasty girl. made me stop doin’ my sets jus’ to fuck ya. ‘oughta be ashamed of yourself,” and then you moan, feeling him pin his beefy arms around your neck to hold you gently in place. “got anythin’ to say? did all that talkin’ ‘n now y’er just radio silent. shame.”
“n-no,” you moaned, and you felt your knees buckle. toji’s fat cock buried deep against your walls, he hit everywhere, even the spots you didn’t even know existed. you were just dumbly bouncing on his lap — tongue stupidly rolled out with your breath hitching. “fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, daddy.”
“who?”
you grew sub substantially quiet, the only sounds running out of your mouth were your quiet shaky breaths.
toji’s got you in a firm safe headlock, softly bringing a hand to squeeze against your right tit, another toying against your slick entrance before he slyly murmurs against your ear, “aw. no back talk now? tell me what you jus’ called me, baby. or you won’t get to cum on me.”
chest heaving, you swallowed whatever pride you had left, shifting your hips a bit to feel how deep he was stuffed into you before you whined. “i-i called you daddy.”
“yeah you did,” he chuckles with a low rasp, sheer bass coating his tone entirely. you felt so small. he’s so strong, lifting you up and down to just buck and jolt on his fat cock—skin sharply ricocheting against his thigh each time you make directly contact.
“you don’t gotta be shy around me, doll,” he mutters, fingers softly curling around your neck. you were pressed up against his chest and toji slows you down with one hand attached to your hip.
another swiftly gets ahold of your chin before he slips a middle finger right into your mouth. he lowly guffaws, feeling you suck on it before replying, “i’ve always liked my women a little nasty for me.”
for a brief second, you were in the midst of catching your breath.
exhaling a low sigh against toji’s pecs that you laid on. he showcases a snarky grins, pressing a kiss against the left side of your neck. “oh come onnn, don’t tell me your legs gave out already,” and then he starts to rub against your clit again. you gasp, moaning before he also gives it a playful spank. “baby, it was only like what . . six rounds? damn, guess you really are a weakling.”
☆ SUKUNA
“…woman, you—you’re so foolish,” he groans, and the curse laid back with a clenched jaw, tightened pecs, and a left hand stuck against your left hip like glue. “keep fuckin’ me like that and ‘m gonna get you pregnant.”
“get me pregnant then,” you whine, leaning in to kiss him.
sukuna grunts, bringing the left temple of your ass a rough spank before he returns the kiss. he glides his tongue alongside yours, warm breath colliding with your own. your tongue slides near his fangs and he lets off a soft groan the more you grind your hips forward towards him in such a way.
after a while, he pulls back before staring at you. his hair was messy and ruffled.
beads of sheeny sweat race down the sides of his forehead before he breathes, “you’re so stupid,” and he traces both of his thumbs against your ass, watching your cunt swallow his thick inches wholeheartedly. “course you want that. you want me to fill you again, princess—?”
“yeah, that’s why i t-told you to get me pr—”
“watch your fuckin’ mouth, little girl,” sukuna chastised, kissing the fat of your ass with another spank. “don’t forget who you’re speakin’ to.”
just as you were about to roll your eyes, you gasp once he reaches a certain sensitive spot. shortly afterwards ; you whine from the incoming sting before you rock your hips at a much more hastened pace.
it’s probably been hours, and of course, sukuna had stamina for hours, days . . perhaps years, after all it is sukuna.
you’d be lucky that he didn’t break your pussy with his thick cock. just him easing his way inside of you, aligning himself gently just so it’d be easier that way—yet you still felt every ambrosial sweetened inch. “f-fuck ‘kuna,” you’d whimper, gradually slowing your hips down.
his jaw clenches again, and his eyes linger down to witness your hips, its rotating against him in such a sloppy slow way—you grind against his lap in response and it makes his head spin.
“d-damn,” he’d swallow, and that was probably the first time you’ve made sukuna stutter. your pussy gripped around him tightly, so much force that it made your ears ring and pop. “got so much cum to flood into your nasty cunt, better be grateful ‘n take every drop,” and then his voice pitches once he brings you closer towards his face with a cold grimacing glare. “wipe that fuckin’ smirk off your face.”
“make me.” you giggle, leaning in to kiss the left side of his lip.
yet you regret even saying that because within a blink of an eye — sukuna’s already got you flipped over on your stomach. he’s already preparing to jostle his hardened dick right back into you where it belongs. “i’ll fuckin’ make you,” and then he kisses his teeth, watching you teasingly wriggle your ass from excitement before growing quiet once he finished his words. “let’s see you take both of my cocks since you wanna be all big ‘n bad, whore.”
☆ GETO
his stamina comes out of nowhere . .
you’d end up teasing geto a bit too much and he just takes it out on your pussy. until the room’s entire smell is filled with nothing but a sweetened mixture of your natural scent of his lavished cologne scent that went against your nose each time.
“fuckkk, we gotta work on this arch of yours, baby,” geto chuckles.
you’re on all fours, staring at how dumb you look in the reflection of the mirror.
geto’s propped up behind you with the smuggest grin on his face, watching your body practically go limp—you moaned, feeling each ridge and edge of his cock prod against the insides of your pussy. he studies the curve of your ass with a toothy grin before using one hand to caress your hip, guiding you with the suaveness of his voice. “bend all the way back for me, yeahhh.”
his voice went so low, it made you throb. geto could do doggystyle on you for hours on end. until his legs would cramp up — but even then, he’d be too pussy drunk to halt. just a few seconds insides your gummy walls, he might as well be living in there at that point.
“s-suguruuu,” you’d moan, the thin sheets of fabric shocking against your perky nipples.
“don’t suguruuu me unless you’re about to cum, princess,” he whispers. his voice was soothing, yet so dirty. whenever he spoke to you like that, in such sass, it never failed to make you throb. he knew how to get under your skin each time and you hated it.
but at the same time . . it turned you on, and geto of all people knew that. he’s so deep, pumping you full of inches to where you’re just inanely bouncing against the spring mattress. “and you’re not about to cum yet, are ya?”
“n-no,” you’d whine, and he smiles at the subtle faint frustration in your tone. by this point, geto’s doggystyle turned into prone bone. he’s all up and pressed against your ass. such ruthless vigorous thrusts against you, you’re drooling for more of his bulky girth, more of his inches.
geto mocks the disappointed pout you had, and you saw through the mirrored reflection. he was such a tease. “exactly, baby” he purrs before giving the back of your tank top a slight tug—you bump up against him and the very tip of his cock kisses your g-spot. you moaned loudly at the feeling of how snuggly fit inside before you feel geto spill a thick load right into your pussy. “f-fuck, but i am..”
☆ CHOSO
with choso, it’s safe to say you probably wouldn’t be walking in the morning.
he’s sweet and gentle, yet once you whine to him how you want him to be a little bit more rough for once — he complied almost immediately.
“okay, okay,” he sibilates through gritted teeth, and choso would gently pick you up, in preparation to fuck you that way. he’s sweet and tender, choso realigns himself before your arms sling around his neck and he grunts hearing the squelching ‘pop’ your pussy hummed. “don’t look at me like that, ‘m trying..”
you giggle, cupping his face to kiss the top of his nose and instantly. choso’s face grows flustered. yet his entire demeanor changed once he was balls deep, fucking you while standing up as if he wasn’t just so timid and apprehensive a literal moment ago.
“oh my goddd,” you’d whine, feeling big hands of his rub against your waist. his touch was so gingerly, grazing down your spine with a few simple fingers. his dick went deep—you panted, and choso’s ears heat up once he heard your moans directly next to his ear. “riiight there, choso. f-fuck me there.”
“praise me m-more, princess,” he mewls, his head throws back as he holds you up. you clamp down on him so good. strings of your own slick and droplets of his cum from previous rounds going against his base . . choso’s struggling to keep his eyes open. “fuckin’ sloppy, so—good,” he huffs, and you’re just slamming back down against him in the process. “tell me how good ‘m doin’ for you, please.”
as you bounced against him, your breath hitched before you snuck a kiss against his lips. “you’re doing great, baby.”
“—yeah?” he pouts. you were so warm inside, it made his head swell. choso was so lenient yet so needy for more of your praises. he’d eat them up every time. just hearing you whisper in that sweet soft voice of yours that he was making you feel good. he didn’t care if he finished - he cared whether you finished, and that was more than enough to satisfy him.
“yeah.” you reply, and he finally returns the kiss, its more sloppy than usual. his tongue breezily brushes against yours, he moans right into your mouth before he feels himself starting to bottom out.
choso’s so vocal, letting off such the sluttiest moans and whimpers into your mouth—you remain with your arms wrapped around him, jerking up and down against him as he’s got you. “f-fuck,” he’d gasp, feeling his thighs ache before he shifts his heels a bit. a few steps and you’re pinned right up against the wall.
shaky legs of yours snake around his waist before he hears you let off the most candied moan, more so… an orgasm. he didn’t even know you were close, and yet he looks down once he feels your entrance soak all over him.
choso pants, still carrying you before murmuring in a hoarse reticent voice, “d-did you just squirt?”
you’re in the middle of catching your breath before your bottom lip quivers. useless legs dangling alongside his waist before you huff out a shaky breath. “y-yes.”
“oh,” he murmurs before staring into your eyes, “can you do it again?” he pouts, and he’s still buried to the hilt inside of you—you let off a soft noise once choso brings you close to his chest, licking against your ear before whining off a needy, “…please?”
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bongo-clash · 2 years ago
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Okay scribbled this out Super Fast and my justifications for this are in the tags BUT-
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Short DPXDC Prompts #658
very powerful spectral entities serve on the Ghost Kings council to advise and assist the king in his duties. Some commonly powerful entities are collectives. Usually the collective consciousness of a city, a concept, or an ideology.
Two of those collectives that serve the Ghost Kings Council is Metropolis and Gotham.
#Obviously it's based off the superman suit BUT#I made the upper half black for Two Reasons#1) To make it look like a suit jacket (metropolis business-y whatever???)#2) With the red cape and the yellow decal in it it looks a bit like the suit Clark wore to honour Jor-El#I put the yellow diamond there to represent the El house crest too but left the actual space for the crest blank#To represent that- although Metropolis connects to the house of El through its chosen protector- it can never truly be a part of it#Just as much as Clark can never really know his home planet either#Thought having the star/supernova head would be cool to represent the solar energy that Superman gets his powers from#But also because it parallels what I think Gotham would be like as a spirit#Very human looking but carrying this sense of Otherness and the weight of an ancient curse#Whereas Metropolis is very visibly ethereal and alien but so alive in a way that's almost weird for a spirit#Just utterly teeming with warmth and explosive hope#One seeming human but feeling Other and one looking Other but seeming human you know??#The glowing green at the back is for Kryptonite#As a remnant of Krypton- the grief at its back#& a reminder of the desire to never have to grieve a whole world that way again being the foundations of Metropolis' existence#Idk I think it'd be Super Fun if the spirit of Metropolis was actually the old spirit of Krypton as a whole#Weak and barely existing for years after the planet's destruction but just waiting and waiting for its last little star to settle#And allow the Earth to thread itself through with these new alien roots#Which would be why despite being such a new city spirit Metropolis would already be so powerful#Also would it not be So Good if Danny was talking about his council to the JL#And Superman found out that the ancient spirit of his home planet had been rooting for him this whole time#To the point where it'd taken the name of his new home and tried to protect it like he did#Would that not be So Sweet#I have more thoughts but the tags are becoming a novel so!!! HSDJFGDSJ#Hopefully this makes sense I did not get enough sleep LMAO#Honestly I've been thinking about Clark recently I might write something for this at some point#(Also Do Not ask me about my opinions of what the spirit of Fawcett would be like and their dynamic with the Gotham+Metropolis spirits are)#(Because we will be here for A Year)#dpxdc
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mssalo · 1 month ago
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worship
Ignored and humiliated by your husband, you find yourself in Joel's arms-his best friend who's been silently craving you for far too long. One heated night pushes you both over the edge, and Joel isn't holding back. He's ready to give you what your husband never could: everything.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, body worship, your husband treating you bad, Joel treating you good, oral (f receiving), kissing, (P in V), pinning, cumming Inside, breeding kink, Joel gets nasty with it, 10k
Part: 2
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
The late afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the lace curtains, casting soft patterns across the dining table where you sat with Sarah, helping her with her homework. Your smile, though kind, felt heavy today. You leaned over the table, explaining a math problem to her with patience, even though your mind was clouded with thoughts of your husband.
It had been weeks—maybe months—since he’d been fully present. You had long suspected something was off, but now it was undeniable. He came home late, if at all, and when he did, his eyes never seemed to meet yours. You’d catch glimpses of texts on his phone, messages you weren’t supposed to see. You weren’t stupid. You knew.
But you’d spent so long being the perfect wife, the one who never caused trouble. He’d always introduced you as his “trophy,” an arm to show off at events, beautiful and polished. It was the role you’d filled for years, playing the part he wanted you to play. Smile, be perfect, don’t question. And you had been doing just that for far too long, even though inside you were crumbling.
You brushed a strand of hair from your face and forced a warm smile as Sarah struggled with her fractions.
You adored Joel’s daughter. She was smart, sweet, and had a lightness about her that made your heart ache with a longing for the family you never had. Sarah was only fourteen, but she had a way of reading people that made you think she saw right through you.
“You’re doing great, sweetie,” you encouraged her softly. “Just think of the numerator as the number on top and the denominator as the number on the bottom.”
Sarah gave you a soft smile, but it was clear she wasn’t fully focused. Her big, brown eyes studied you carefully, picking up on the sadness that lingered just beneath the surface of your cheerful demeanor.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern. “You seem… off today.”
Your heart sank a little at the realization that she noticed. You were supposed to be the adult here, the one keeping it all together, but it was getting harder to hide the cracks. You blinked back the tears threatening to well up, reaching over to give Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“I’m okay, baby,” you whispered softly, trying to steady your voice. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”
Sarah looked at you for a moment longer, her brow furrowed as if she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t push it. She was too kind for that, too sweet. You wished your own husband had even a fraction of the empathy this girl had. Instead, he barely acknowledged your presence anymore, leaving you to feel like a ghost in your own home.
After Sarah finished her homework, you walked her to the door, sending her off with her usual hug. She hugged you back tightly, sensing more than you were letting on, but when you said goodbye, you assured her again that you were fine. She gave you one last concerned look before heading home.
After Sarah left, the silence in the house became overwhelming, filling every corner with the weight of your thoughts.
You leaned against the door for a moment, closing your eyes, fighting the urge to let the tears spill over. It was getting harder to keep up the facade. The loneliness, the sense of being unseen in your own marriage—it was suffocating.
You’d done everything you could to save the relationship, to bring back the warmth that had once existed between you and your husband, but there was nothing left.
With a deep breath, you pushed away from the door and headed to the kitchen, trying to busy yourself with anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest. But the sound of a knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t expecting anyone.
When you opened it, Joel stood on your porch, concern etched into his rugged features. His broad shoulders seemed even larger framed by the doorway, his familiar Texas drawl cutting through the silence as he spoke.
“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle but serious. “Sarah told me you weren’t doing too good today. Figured I’d come by and check on you.”
You blinked, surprised but not unwelcome to see him standing there. It took a moment for you to gather your thoughts, your heart catching in your throat at the sight of him. Joel had always been kind to you, always present in a way your husband wasn’t. He was a steady, comforting presence in your life, one you had grown to rely on more than you ever intended.
“I—I’m fine,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to worry her. It’s just been a long day.”
Joel’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t hesitate to step inside, closing the door behind him. He looked down at you with those dark, thoughtful eyes of his, reading you in ways you wished your husband still could. His gaze softened, but he didn’t buy your answer for a second.
“You don’t gotta put up a front with me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can tell somethin’s been bothering you.”
It was those words—the way he said them with such understanding, such care—that made something in you break. You couldn’t hold it together any longer, not with Joel standing there, offering the kind of concern and kindness you hadn’t felt in so long. The tears you had been holding back began to well up again, this time falling before you could stop them.
Joel stepped forward, his hands settling gently on your arms.
“Hey, hey now… don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
His words, so simple yet so full of warmth, only made the tears come faster. You wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed that you were falling apart like this in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just… everything feels so wrong.”
Joel’s grip tightened slightly, a gesture of reassurance. He guided you over to the couch, sitting beside you as you tried to compose yourself. You leaned into him instinctively, finding comfort in the solid presence of his body next to yours. Joel had always had this way of making you feel safe, like you could let your guard down without fear of judgment.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, his hand still resting on your arm, warm and steady.
You hesitated, the words heavy in your throat. You’d kept it all inside for so long, afraid to say it out loud, afraid that acknowledging it would make it all too real. But sitting there, with Joel looking at you like he genuinely cared, it all came tumbling out.
“He doesn’t care anymore, Joel,” you murmured, the words spilling from your lips, weighed down by the months of heartache you had been carrying. “It’s like I’m invisible to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t even look at me… and I know he’s seeing someone else.”
The effect on Joel was immediate. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face twitching as he tried to contain the anger that flared up inside him.
His eyes darkened, filling with a storm of emotions—disbelief, frustration, and something protective, primal. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, tightened its grip slightly, grounding you as he processed your words.
He stared at you for a long moment, his face a mix of shock and disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could treat you that way.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” Joel muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “How could he—how could anyone—do that to you? To you of all people?”
He shook his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His voice softened, but the rough edges of his anger were still there, simmering just beneath the surface.
“You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who sees you, who knows just how lucky they are to have you.”
Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur as he continued.
“You’re kind, thoughtful… hell, you’re always puttin’ everyone else first. The way you care for Sarah like she’s your own, the way you keep your home so warm and welcoming, the way you’ve always been there for him… you’re so damn good, and he doesn’t even see it.” He shook his head again, the disbelief etched deep in his furrowed brow.
“How could he not see that? How could he throw that away?”
His eyes softened as he looked at you, filled with a mixture of admiration and frustration.
“It breaks my heart to see you treated like this. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who shows up for you, every day… who loves you for exactly who you are.”
His words hit you like a wave, each one wrapped in the raw sincerity and care that had always been so natural for Joel. You could see the anger and confusion in his eyes—he truly couldn’t understand how anyone could treat you as anything less than extraordinary.
You had been trying so hard to convince yourself that it was enough to be the perfect wife, to keep playing the role you had been assigned, but Joel’s kindness made you question all of it. His care, his attention—it was what you had been craving for so long, and now, here he was, offering it to you without asking for anything in return.
“But I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of everything settled heavily on your shoulders. “I’ve tried so hard to make it work, to be what he wants, but nothing’s enough.”
Joel’s hand lifted to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm grounded you, the rough texture of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch. He guided your face to meet his eyes, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch.
“You don’t need to be what he wants,” Joel said, his voice low, almost a growl, roughened by emotion.
“You deserve to be seen, to be loved for who you are. Not just for what you can give someone else.”
His words hung in the air between you, wrapping around your heart, pulling at the deepest parts of you that had felt so neglected, so starved for this very thing—connection.
The space between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions that had been simmering for far too long. It was as though every unexpressed feeling, every suppressed desire had built up into a moment that neither of you could stop.
Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the ache of loneliness and longing that had been gnawing at you for months. Joel had always been there, quietly, steadily, offering you the care your husband never could.
And now, sitting so close to him, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, the pull between you was undeniable.
“Joel…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze flickering between his deep brown eyes and his lips, so close, so tempting.
He didn’t move away. Instead, his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, but his eyes were dark, filled with something deeper—something that had been quietly building between you for longer than either of you cared to admit.
“I’ll take care of you,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with the promise of protection, of something more. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”
Your heart raced, torn between the vulnerability of the moment and the undeniable comfort of his words.
The way he spoke, the way he looked at you—it was everything you had been craving for so long. The tenderness you had missed, the feeling of being truly seen, appreciated, cared for. It was overwhelming. And yet…
Before you could fully process what was happening, Joel leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hand still cradling your face.
The kiss was gentle at first, full of the tenderness and care you had longed for, but there was something else beneath it, something more intense, more primal, as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.
Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if needing something to hold on to, something solid in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.
His kiss deepened slightly, his other hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It felt like everything you had wanted—someone who saw you, who cared for you, who wanted you.
But just as quickly as the warmth of the kiss had filled you, the weight of guilt crashed down like a tidal wave. You broke away, pulling back suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, breath coming in short gasps. You shook your head, stepping out of his reach, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips, but your mind already spinning.
“I—” you stammered, the words barely forming as you backed away, your hands trembling. “I can’t… I’m sorry, Joel, I just… I can’t do this.”
The look on Joel’s face was one of hurt and confusion, but also understanding. He stood there, his arms falling to his sides as he watched you retreat.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice gentle, though the rough edge of his emotion was still there. “You don’t need to apologize.”
You took another step back, trying to steady yourself, your heart in your throat. “It’s not right,” you murmured, your voice trembling as you tried to rationalize everything that had just happened. “I can’t… I’m still married, and this… this is wrong.”
Joel didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and a quiet sorrow.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”
His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t face the reality of what had just happened, of what you had almost allowed yourself to feel. The guilt was too much, too overwhelming. You turned away, your hands still trembling as you moved toward the stairs, needing distance, needing space to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible as you left Joel standing alone in the living room. You hurried upstairs, your heart heavy, your mind racing, every step a reminder of the pull between you and Joel that you had just tried so desperately to resist.
When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, your hand gripping the banister as you tried to steady your breath. You could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, the safety of his arms around you, and it terrified you.
Because for the first time in so long, you had felt something real, something you wanted. And yet, the weight of everything else—your marriage, your vows, the guilt—it was too much to bear.
You didn’t look back, but you could feel Joel’s presence downstairs, lingering in the quiet of the house. His words echoed in your mind, and despite everything, you knew deep down that what he had said was true: you deserved more. But admitting that meant facing the truth about everything you had been avoiding for so long.
And you weren’t ready for that.
· · ─────
The days following the kiss were thick with awkwardness and tension that hung between you and Joel like a fog neither of you knew how to clear. Every time you thought about it—his lips on yours, the tenderness in his touch, the way he had made you feel seen and wanted—your stomach twisted with guilt. But there was another feeling too, one that gnawed at you in the quiet moments when you were alone: longing. That kiss had stirred something deep inside you, something that had been buried for far too long, and now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
You longed for that feeling again—the safety, the warmth, the tenderness that had been absent from your life for so long. It made the distance between you and your husband feel even wider, the coldness in your marriage more unbearable. But despite how much you tried to shake it, that kiss was constantly on your mind.
Then came the day Joel came over to watch the football game with your husband. You knew it was coming—your husband had mentioned it in passing—but you weren’t prepared to see Joel again. The thought of being in the same room as him after what had happened made your heart race and your palms sweat.
When Joel arrived, you could hear his familiar knock on the door, followed by your husband’s slurred greeting. He had already been drinking, you noticed. You had hoped he would keep it under control, but knowing him, that was never a safe bet.
You opened the door and found Joel standing there, looking as calm and collected as ever. But the moment his eyes met yours, a wave of heat rushed to your face, your heart skipping in your chest. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but it was impossible to ignore the way the memory of that kiss flooded your senses all at once.
He shifted slightly, his hands slipping into his pockets, as if he was just as unsure of how to handle the tension between you. His gaze flickered over your face for just a second longer than it should have, his eyes darkening with something unspoken before he quickly looked away.
You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. You cleared your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to greet him without giving anything away.
“H-hi, Joel,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look at him, even though your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of your shirt, desperate to find something—anything—to do with your hands.
Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours briefly, and you could see the hesitation there, the same uncertainty you were feeling. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his voice coming out low and gruff, but with a warmth that only made you blush harder.
“hello there,” he said, his tone casual, but the way his eyes softened when he looked at you made your stomach flip.
The awkwardness was palpable, like neither of you knew exactly what to say. You wanted to hide from the intensity of the moment, to avoid the feelings that had been swirling between you since that kiss. Your gaze darted down to your feet, your fingers still twisting the fabric of your shirt nervously.
Your husband’s voice suddenly bellowed from the living room, a loud demand for more beer, pulling both of you out of the charged moment. Joel winced slightly, his brow furrowing in mild annoyance at the sound, but you just gave a small, flustered nod.
“Uh, I’ll get that for him,” you mumbled quickly, stepping aside to let Joel in, your skin tingling with the awareness of how close he was as he brushed past you.
As Joel entered, you couldn’t help but glance at him one last time, your heart racing again when you saw the way his eyes lingered on you for a brief second before he turned toward the living room, where your husband was already half-immersed in the game.
“Thanks,” Joel murmured softly, his voice still gruff but gentle as he moved to sit beside your husband.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You knew tonight was going to be hard—being in the same room as Joel, pretending that nothing had changed. But the way your heart leapt every time you caught his eye made it clear that things were far from normal between you.
The night dragged on painfully, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Your husband’s drinking had started early, his excitement for the game quickly turning into something darker, something meaner as the alcohol took hold. It wasn’t unusual for him to drink during football, but tonight, it seemed worse than usual. Each beer drained away whatever patience he had left, and you could feel his mood souring with every sip.
“Get me another one,” he grunted, not bothering to look at you as he pointed at the empty bottle on the coffee table.
You moved quickly, not wanting to cause a scene, especially not with Joel sitting there. The last thing you needed was for Joel to witness the full extent of your husband’s irritability. But as you handed him the beer, your husband’s gaze flickered up to you, and his expression turned sour.
“Can’t you just do one damn thing right?” he muttered, snatching the bottle from your hand. His words were slurred but sharp, laced with frustration as if your mere presence irritated him.
Your cheeks flushed with humiliation, the familiar sting of his words settling deep inside you. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you from across the room, but you didn’t dare look at him. The embarrassment was too much. All you wanted was to get through the night, to make it out of this room with what little dignity you had left.
But it only got worse. As the game continued, your husband’s tone grew harsher, his demands more insistent.
“Get me some more chips,” he barked, barely glancing at you. You quickly obliged, fetching the bowl from the kitchen, trying to keep your hands steady as you placed it on the table in front of him.
Joel, always polite, nodded in your direction. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. The contrast between Joel’s quiet gratitude and your husband’s increasing belligerence was jarring, and it only made the ache in your chest worse.
As you turned to walk back to the kitchen, you felt it—your husband’s hand coming down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You froze in place, your entire body going rigid as the sting of his hand sent a wave of humiliation crashing over you.
“Good girl,” he slurred, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re real good at one thing at least, huh?”
The room felt like it was spinning, your face burning with shame. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, to even breathe for a moment. Joel was right there. He had seen it all.
Your heart pounded in your chest, the humiliation overwhelming, crushing. You had endured so much already—his cruelty, his indifference—but this? In front of Joel?
You couldn’t stay in the room any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly toward the stairs, your vision blurring as the tears threatened to spill. You could hear your husband muttering something under his breath, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get away.
As you reached the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as the tears finally came. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to hold it together, but it was no use. The humiliation, the shame—it was all too much.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection blurred by the tears that streamed down your face.
What had happened to you? How had things gotten this bad?
You had spent years trying to hold onto the marriage, trying to make things work, but now it felt like you were nothing more than an afterthought, a servant in your own home. The sting of his hand, the cruel way he had dismissed you—it was unbearable.
You didn’t know how long you had been standing there when you heard a soft knock at the bathroom door.
“Hey… it’s me,” Joel’s voice came from the other side, low and cautious, full of concern.
Your heart tightened in your chest. You weren’t sure if you could face him, not after what had just happened. Not after he had seen the way your husband had treated you. But Joel wasn’t like your husband. He had always been kind, always understanding. He had seen you—truly seen you—when no one else had.
“Can I come in?” he asked softly.
You hesitated for a moment, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you tried to compose yourself. Then, slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to let him in.
Joel stepped inside, his presence filling the small space, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. His eyes softened when he saw your tear-streaked face, his brow furrowing in concern.
“I’m sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean for things to get like that.”
You shook your head quickly, wiping at your eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “It’s just… this is how it is. I don’t know how to make it stop.”
Joel’s expression darkened slightly, but not with anger—just with sadness, frustration at the situation. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a tear from your cheek, his touch so different from the harshness you had just experienced. His fingers were warm, careful, like he was afraid to push you any further than you were ready for.
“You don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”
His words broke something inside you, and you felt your lip tremble as another sob escaped. You had been holding it in for so long—holding everything in, trying to be strong, trying to make it work. But now, standing here with Joel, it all came crashing down.
“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I feel so trapped.”
Joel didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, full of understanding. And then, quietly, he spoke again.
“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. Whatever you need… I’m here.”
The warmth in his words, the tenderness in his touch—it was more than you had felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt seen, felt valued. It stirred something deep inside you, something desperate and raw, a need that had been pushed down for so long.
Before you could even think about it, you lunged toward him, closing the small distance between you and crashing your lips into his. It wasn’t delicate or hesitant—it was a kiss born out of longing, out of months, maybe even years, of being unseen, unheard.
Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer as your body pressed against his, needing more, needing all of him.
Joel responded immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you back with a fierceness that matched your own. There was no hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours, no doubt in the way he held you tight.
His hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his mouth hungry, demanding.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire, igniting every nerve in your body. His kiss was rough, filled with a desperation that mirrored your own, like he had been holding back for too long and finally, finally, he could let go. The tension between you, all the unspoken words, all the stolen glances—it was exploding now in this moment, and neither of you could stop it.
Your heart raced as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him under your fingertips. The years of loneliness, of being ignored, melted away with every touch, every kiss. Joel’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he was afraid to let go.
He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against yours.
“I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with emotion, his lips still brushing against yours. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”
You couldn’t respond with words—you didn’t need to. Instead, you pulled him back into the kiss, your lips crashing together again, more desperate, more urgent. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the bathroom wall, pinning you there as he kissed you harder, deeper.
There was no space left between you, no room for doubt or hesitation. Your body responded to his in ways you hadn’t felt in years, every nerve alight with the intensity of it. His hands slid down your sides, rough and possessive, holding you tightly as if he couldn’t get enough of you.
You could feel the heat rising between you, the desperation building, as if all the longing, all the frustration had finally found an outlet. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, each touch making your breath hitch, your body arch into his.
“Joel…” you whispered, your voice breathless, barely able to get the words out.
But he already knew. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was even more intense, more consuming than before. You were lost in him, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Everything else—the hurt, the humiliation, the loneliness—faded away until there was only this moment, only Joel.
This was what you had been missing. This was what you had been longing for. And for the first time in so long, you felt alive.
Joel’s breath was hot against your skin as his lips moved along the curve of your neck, each kiss searing into you, grounding you in this moment, in him. His hands gripped you firmly, possessive yet tender, his touch a reassurance that you were more than what you had been made to feel for so long.
“God, you have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with need. “You’re everythin’. You deserve so much more than what he gives you. So much more.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the intensity in his tone, the sincerity. You could feel the heat between you building, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, kissing along your collarbone, your chest. You were lost in the sensation, the way his hands moved over you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin.
Joel's kisses became more urgent, more fervent, as he slowly knelt before you, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with an expression that was both filled with desire and a silent question—a request for permission, for trust.
“Let me worship you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his hands steady as he began to ease your pants down, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent sparks through you. “I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to feel everything.”
The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity as he pulled your pants away, his eyes dark with want as he drank in the sight of you.
Joel stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms, turning and pressing you gently but firmly against the wall. The coolness of the tile was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him, his body holding yours securely, every inch of your weight supported by his strength.
“You’re everythin’,” he murmured again, his lips finding yours in a deep, lingering kiss before trailing down your neck. “You deserve the world. And I’m gonna it to you.”
Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you slightly, his hands gripping your thighs as he held you against the wall. His mouth moved lower, his lips, his tongue, trailing over your stomach, your hips, until he was kneeling before you again, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh.
The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, inching closer and closer to the center of your need. Every kiss, every touch felt like a promise—a promise that you were cherished, that you were seen.
Joel’s lips trembled against your skin as he kissed down your stomach, rough and hungry, his hands gripping your hips tightly as though he was afraid to let go.
His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and his breath came out hot against your bare thighs as he spread you open for him, his tongue flicking out to tease the edges of your soaked entrance.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growled, his voice deep and husky. "I've been waitin’ for this, waitin’ to taste this sweet pussy. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about it—about you."
You gasped as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue flat and wide as he dragged it through your folds, groaning like he was savoring every drop.
His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again, the vibration making you whimper.
"God, you're perfect," Joel mumbled against you, his voice muffled as he licked you with long, languid strokes. "This cunt is all mine tonight, yeah? You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."
He sucked noisily, deliberately making sure every stroke of his tongue was loud, wet, and filthy. You could hear the lewd slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment.
Your breath came out in ragged gasps, your whole body burning under his relentless attention.
“What if he hears?” you whispered, your voice shaky as your head fell back against the wall. “Joel… what if—”
“He won’t hear shit,” Joel cut you off, his voice rough with possessiveness. “That asshole’s passed out cold on the couch. Even if he could hear, I wouldn’t stop. He doesn’t deserve you. But I do.”
His tongue plunged into you, fucking you with wet, deep strokes, his nose brushing against your swollen clit as he grunted against you. “This pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby. All I want is to hear you moan for me. Let him fuckin’ hear it.”
You couldn’t help but whimper, your hips bucking against his face as he growled, his tongue thrusting deeper, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He pulled back for just a second, his breath heavy, his eyes wild as he looked up at you.
"Fuck, I could eat this pussy all night," he murmured, his voice almost a snarl as he gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you even closer. "I want to make you come on my tongue over and over, until you can't stand. You deserve to be worshipped like this. I’m not stoppin’ until you scream my name."
With that, he dove back in, his tongue swirling over your clit as he sucked you harder, his mouth relentless. You moaned louder, your fingers tugging at his hair as your body arched off the wall, pleasure crashing through you with every filthy stroke of his tongue.
He groaned again, louder this time, savoring every moment as he devoured you, his mouth hot and hungry, like he couldn’t get enough.
He alternated between sucking your clit hard, his lips tight around the sensitive bud, and sliding his tongue deep inside you, fucking your pussy with slow, torturous strokes.
Each time you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it felt like he was staking a claim.
"Yeah, that’s it," he murmured between licks, his voice raw. "I want to hear you scream for me. Let me hear how much you love it when I eat this sweet little cunt."
Your moans grew louder, filling the bathroom as Joel’s tongue worked you harder, faster, his groans matching your own as he lost himself in the taste of you.
His hands slid up your body, gripping your breasts roughly as he continued to feast on you, the pleasure so intense it was overwhelming. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—every nerve was on fire, your mind blank as you gave in completely to him.
"Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—" you gasped, your thighs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release.
"Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse as his tongue flicked over your clit again, harder, faster, relentless. "Cum on my tongue. I want to taste all of it."
With a final, devastating suck on your clit, you shattered. Pleasure slammed into you, your entire body shaking as you screamed his name, your nails digging into his scalp as he held you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of your orgasm.
Joel didn’t stop—he kept licking, kept sucking, devouring every drop as your body convulsed, the intensity of it making your legs shake.
He moaned against you, his tongue softening slightly but still teasing your swollen clit as you came down, his grip on your hips loosening just enough to let you catch your breath.
When he finally pulled back, his face was slick with your arousal, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you, his chest heaving.
"You taste like heaven," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction as he stood, pressing his body against yours again, his lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss.
You could taste yourself on his lips, feel the raw, aching desire still burning between you, and you knew this was only the beginning.
“That’s what you deserve,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and loving all at once. “And I’m not done worshippin’ you.”
Joel’s hands moved up your body slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every second his fingers touched your skin. His breath was still ragged, and his lips were barely an inch from yours as he whispered against them, his voice rough but tender.
“If you were my woman, I’d never let you leave the house without makin’ you cum at least twice,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver through you. “And here he is, treatin’ you like garbage. Doesn’t he see? You’re a goddess.”
He paused, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but insistent as he slowly pulled it up, over your head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened with hunger as he gazed at your bare skin, his breath coming out in a heavy exhale as he traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, up to the clasp of your bra.
“You represent everything good in this world,” Joel continued, his voice deepening as his fingers worked to unhook your bra, his eyes locked on yours. “He should feel so damn lucky to have you. How can he not see what he has?”
Your bra fell away, and his eyes dropped to your breasts, the sight of them making him groan deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest. His hands cupped them reverently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as his lips curled into a smirk.
“These,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “prove my point exactly.”
Without another word, Joel dipped his head, his lips brushing against one of your nipples before he drew it into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.
The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, your back arching as you gasped, your hands instinctively finding his hair, pulling him closer.
He groaned again, his hand kneading your other breast as his mouth worked your nipple with expert precision, sucking harder, his tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh with just the right amount of pressure. Every movement of his mouth, every touch of his hands, felt like he was worshipping you, like you were something precious and sacred.
“I swear,” Joel mumbled against your skin, his lips trailing to your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth with the same intensity.
“If you were mine, I’d worship this body every damn day. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are, not some afterthought.”
His teeth grazed your nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you, making you whimper as he continued to suck and lick, his hands never leaving your body, constantly exploring, worshipping. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his mouth greedy, his hands possessive, but all of it wrapped in the tenderness that made your heart ache.
“Look at you,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin as he switched between your breasts, lavishing each one with the same amount of attention. “Every part of you is fuckin’ perfect.”
His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you, his erection hard and insistent through his jeans. The friction only added to the heat between you, the tension building with every kiss, every touch. Joel’s lips moved back up to your neck, his breath ragged as he pressed soft kisses along your jawline, his words spilling out between them.
“I could spend all night tastin’ you, touchin’ you,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw emotion. “You deserve to feel this good all the time. I’d make sure you never forgot it.”
Your mind was spinning, your body burning under his touch. Every word he spoke, every movement of his mouth, was like gasoline on a fire, and you were completely consumed by him, by the way he made you feel—seen, wanted, worshipped.
Joel’s hands slid back up to your breasts, kneading them as his lips claimed yours in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body radiating heat, his need for you palpable.
“Tell me,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how much you want this.”
Your breath hitched, your lips parting as his words hung in the air between you. The heat in his eyes, the intensity of his touch—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding.
“I want it so bad, Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need, your body arching into him. “Please… take your clothes off. I need to feel you.”
He groaned at your words, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his erection pressing harder against you.
“Yeah, baby,” he growled, his lips brushing yours, “you need to see a real man. Feel a real cock, not just someone who acts like one. I’ll show you the difference.”
With a swift movement, Joel pulled back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular chest that you’d only stolen glances at before. His skin glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing as he moved, and the sight of him made your mouth water. Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as you let out a soft moan of appreciation.
“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands wandered lower, desperate to feel every inch of him.
Joel smirked, his hands already working to unbuckle his jeans, his voice dropping to a rough, dirty whisper. “You want this cock, hm? You’ve been starving for it—starving for a man who knows how to take care of you, who knows how to make you cum like you deserve.”
Your heart pounded in your chest as he pushed his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his thick, hard cock springing free, already leaking with precum. It was big—thick and long, veins running down the shaft, the head swollen and glistening.
He gave it a slow stroke, his eyes locked on yours, the sight making your thighs clench with anticipation.
“See this?” he growled, tapping his cock against your thigh, making your breath hitch. “This is what you’ve been missin’. And I’m gonna make sure you never forget what a real man feels like.”
You whimpered in response, your hands reaching out to touch him, to wrap your fingers around his length, but he pulled back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“Not yet, baby,” he murmured, his voice full of filthy promise. “I want you to feel it everywhere first.”
With that, Joel pressed his cock against your stomach, dragging it slowly across your skin, leaving a slick trail of precum in its wake. You moaned, the sensation driving you wild, your body arching into him as you felt the heat of his shaft sliding over your skin.
“Fuck, you look so good with my cock on you,” he groaned, his hand gripping his length as he slid it up between your breasts, over your chest, your neck, and then back down again. “You want this. You want to feel it inside you, stretchin’ you, fillin’ you up.”
“Yes, Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “I need it. I need you. I want your cock so bad, I can’t stand it.”
He chuckled darkly, his hand moving to tap the thick head of his cock against your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making you cry out.
“You want it here, yeah?” he growled, slapping his cock against your swollen clit again, harder this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You want to feel me inside this tight little pussy, fuckin’ you like you’ve never been fucked before.”
“Oh, God, yes,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body trembled with need. “Fuck me, Joel. I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to ruin me.”
His eyes flashed with pure desire as he tapped his cock against your clit again, the wet head of his cock throbbing as more precum leaked out, mixing with your own arousal.
He dragged his length through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, groaning as he teased you.
“I’m gonna make you scream for me,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll never even think about another man again. You’ll be mine, baby. This pussy will be mine.”
Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you, making you ache for him. Every word he spoke, every filthy promise he made, sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your body desperate for the release only he could give.
“Say it,” Joel demanded, his voice rough as he slid just the tip inside you, stretching you ever so slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Joel,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as you felt him start to push inside you. “I’m yours. Please, fuck me. Make me yours.”
With a deep, guttural groan, Joel thrust into you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching into his as he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he held you in place.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you in slow, deliberate strokes. “This pussy is mine now, baby. And I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll forget anyone else ever existed.”
Joel’s thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the delicious pressure only intensified the raw need coursing between you. His cock filled you so completely, stretching you to the point where you could barely think straight, only able to feel him.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with lust as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a force that made you gasp.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your ragged moans and the wet, lewd sounds of your pussy taking every inch of him.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “This is what you’d get with me all the time. Not that half-assed bullshit you’ve been settlin for. You’d get this—my cock fillin’ you up, my hands on your body, making you cum until you can’t even fuckin stand.”
He punctuated his words with rough, powerful thrusts, his cock driving deeper into you with each one. Your head fell back against the wall, your legs trembling as he held you up, completely at his mercy.
“You feel that?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as his hips snapped into you again and again. “You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you’re worthless.”
Joel’s mouth was everywhere—his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.
His tongue flicked out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with praise and hunger. “My perfect little good girl.”
He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower until he found your breasts again, groaning as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation of his mouth on your sensitive skin, combined with the relentless pace of his hips, had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking apart with pleasure.
“Fuck, ’could suck these tits all day,” Joel murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple as he switched to the other breast, sucking and licking, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucked you harder.
“So fuckin’ beautiful. You’d get this all the time with me, baby. You’re my good girl, hm?”
“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, your nipples aching under his relentless attention. “I’m your good girl. Please, don’t stop.”
Joel growled, a deep, primal sound that sent a shiver down your spine as he kissed his way back up to your mouth, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss.
His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and demanding, as he continued to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
You whimpered beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he pounded into you, his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.
The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you, and you could barely form coherent words. All you could do was moan his name, begging for more.
“That’s my good girl,” Joel rasped, his lips trailing down your neck as his hips snapped harder, faster. “You love this, baby? You love havin’ my cock so deep inside you, fuckin’ you the way you deserve. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you need it.”
“I need it,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as your head fell back against the wall, your body trembling with pleasure.
“I need you so bad, Joel. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me harder. I love it. Please, Joel, don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop,” he growled, his hands sliding up your body, cupping your breasts again as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over.
“I’ll never stop. You’ll never go a day without feelin’ this. Without knowing how fuckin’ perfect you are.”
His lips moved across your face, kissing your cheeks, your jaw, before finding your neck again, sucking and biting at your skin as he pounded into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed you closer to the brink of release.
His tongue claimed your mouth with the same intensity as his cock claimed your pussy, his hands still worshipping your body as if he couldn’t stop touching you.
“You feel so good,” he growled against your lips, his breath ragged as his hips continued to slam into you.
“This is what I’d do every single day if you were mine. I’d wake you up with my tongue on this perfect pussy, make you cum before breakfast, fuck you until you can’t even think straight.”
You moaned loudly, your body arching into his as his filthy words made your head spin, the pleasure building inside you with every thrust of his cock.
His hand slid down your body, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles as he fucked you, his touch sending sparks through your veins.
“I’m gonna make you cum, babygirl,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours. “I want you to cum all over my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you love it.”
You whimpered, your body trembling as the pleasure mounted, your mind going blank as Joel’s cock slammed into you harder, deeper. His hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours—it was too much, and you felt yourself spiraling toward release.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough as he felt you tighten around him. “Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”
With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.
Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as he groaned deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucked you through your orgasm.
Joel’s hips slowed, but his thrusts remained deep and deliberate, his cock throbbing inside you, the heat of him radiating against your skin. His breath came in hot, ragged bursts against your neck as his hands roamed possessively over your body, caressing every inch of your trembling form.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hips ground deeper, each thrust making your body arch against him. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. My good girl.”
His words sent another jolt of desire through you, your body still sensitive from your orgasm, but you could feel his need, the tension in his body as he held back. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was close—so close.
Joel’s pace slowed slightly, his cock throbbing deep inside you as he hovered over you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. His hand slid down your side, possessive, as if every inch of your body belonged to him now. He kissed along your jawline, his voice husky, thick with lust and something deeper.
“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his cock still twitching inside you.
“Tell me where you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
You felt a rush of heat, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Your voice came out shaky, but full of want as you gasped, “Inside, Joel. Please cum inside me.”
A guttural groan escaped his throat, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, the words hitting him like a spark to gasoline.
"God, I’ve been dreamin’ of hearing you say that," he growled, his hips bucking forward again, harder this time. "Pumpin’ you full of my seed. Fuck… the thought of you pregnant with my child?"
“The thought of you, round and swollen with my baby—fuck, sometimes I just cum from imaginin’ it,” he growled, his voice growing more desperate as his thrusts quickened, his cock hitting deep inside you with every movement.
“You’d be so beautiful, so perfect. And you’d be mine—all mine.”
His words sent a shock of pleasure straight through you, the intensity of his dirty talk igniting every nerve in your body. Joel’s hands gripped your hips harder as he thrust deeper, his cock filling you completely with each powerful stroke. His voice was raw, full of desperate hunger as he whispered in your ear.
“Imagine it,” he rasped, his breath hot against your neck, his cock pounding into you relentlessly.
“You, swollen with my baby. I’d make you cum again and again while my child grows inside you. I’d take care of you, worship you… make you feel like the goddess you are.”
The filthy images he painted, combined with the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, made your body tremble, your mind reeling with the intensity of it. Your fingers dug into his back as your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
His pace grew faster, more frantic as he chased his release, the idea of you full of his cum, of you carrying his child, driving him wild. You could feel him getting closer, his grip on your hips tightening as his cock swelled inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic.
“You’d be such a good mother,” he groaned, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. I’m gonna make sure every drop stays inside. ’ gonna be so full of my cum.”
You were lost in him, lost in the way his body felt against yours, the way his words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into the pleasure.
“Yes, Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your body trembled with anticipation. “Please, cum inside me. I want it so bad.”
“Take it, baby. Take all of it. I’m fillin’ you up. God, you feel so fucking good.”
With a deep, primal growl, Joel’s hips slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside as he came with a force that made his whole body shudder.
He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he groaned your name, his cum spilling inside you, filling you completely.
You could feel every twitch, every hot pulse of his release, the sensation sending you over the edge again, your body convulsing as a second wave of pleasure crashed through you.
His body shook with the force of his release, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants as he held you tightly, his cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself.
He stayed like that for a moment, his body pressed tightly against yours, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. His cock still twitched inside you, his cum warm and thick as it filled you completely. His hands caressed your sides, his touch tender and loving despite the roughness of what had just happened.
Joel’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, still trembling with the aftermath of his orgasm. “Fuck… you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion. “’ everything I’ve ever wanted.”
His cock still twitched inside you, the warmth of his cum spreading through your core as he slowly pulled back, pressing soft kisses along your neck, your shoulders.
Joel's breathing was still heavy, his chest pressed against yours as he held you tightly, his cock still buried inside you. He kissed your neck softly, murmuring between deep breaths.
“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” he rasped, his voice low and raw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been savin’ this for you, baby. No one else could ever do it for me. You’re the only one… the only woman I want. I’m full of it, every drop of cum was meant for you.”
His words were tender but possessive, the weight of what he was saying wrapping around you. His hand slid up your side gently, still exploring, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice took on a pleading tone.
“Please, baby,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening around your waist. “Leave him. You deserve more. You deserve to be worshipped, loved, the way I’ll love you every single day. You’re mine now. You know that, don’t you?”
You felt your heart pound at the weight of his words, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment.
As the intensity of the moment began to fade, the weight of Joel's words hung in the air between you. You felt the warmth of his body still pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he held you close, but now, the frantic passion had simmered into something deeper. Something certain.
For the first time in what felt like forever, clarity washed over you. Joel had peeled back all the layers of doubt, of shame, of loneliness, and left you with the undeniable truth—you deserved this. You deserved more.
You shifted slightly in his arms, and he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was soft, no longer driven by raw desire, but by something far more profound. There was a silent question there, one he didn’t have to ask out loud. He had already said it all.
You smiled softly, your fingers tracing over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. You didn’t need to say anything right now. You didn’t need to make promises or decisions this second. But for the first time, you knew. You knew what you wanted, who you wanted.
And Joel knew it too.
“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple, the tenderness of the moment grounding you both. “Whenever you’re ready.”
You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in years. You weren’t just his now—you were finally yours.
As the room grew quiet, the weight of your choices settled in, but it wasn’t daunting anymore. It felt like freedom. Like the start of something new.
The beginning of everything you’d been missing.
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retiredteabag · 2 months ago
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Too hot to cuddle!!
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this is part one of my dual-fic based on this fanart read about winter!Toji here :]
synopsis: Toji becomes jealous of your pillow…
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
You and Toji cuddle often. It wasn't something you guys ever spoke about or needed to ask for but it wasn't uncommon for the man to come home from a job and find you spread across the couch, only to come over and lay his entire body over yours until you complained about "needing air".
This was the perfect dynamic for winter, Toji's body heat seemed to always be in supply but in the summer, the man could be nude, without a blanket in sight, prone before an oscillating fan, and still sweating.
It was the unfortunate truth that Toji would overheat, even if you were particularly chilly. So when the summer months came around, you were blessed with the entire comforter to yourself.
Too hot for him, you would pull your arms into the blanket so he would have his side of the bed to sprawl while you could rest, enwraptured in warmth.
It was a dynamic that worked for both of you- until it didn't
One night, mid-summer, you unconsciously had yourself tucked tightly within the comforter. Shifting in your sleep, you exhaustedly unraveled enough to reach out for Toji's form. Subconsciously, you felt for him, and in your sleepy state, tucked yourself around his torso, legs tied with his own. The groan he let out did little to rouse you or waive your hold on him.
In the heat of the moment (no pun intended) he shook your arm from his waist, grunting whilst turning to face your sleeping figure. With little but a sleepy hum in reply, he made more of an effort to push you and your warm blanket away from him.
“s too hot” He grumbled.
Your unconscious mind took no offense, soon finding comfort again by flipping over, wrapped in the blanket, to throw yourself around one of your many pillows.
Toji rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he watched this occur. After moving you from his form, he witnessed as you practically spooned the pillow in your grasp. Face smooshed in, like you did with his chest, leg lifted over the side, arms surrounding his replacement.
Seeing as you chose the blanket over him, he couldn't help but be peeved. Even exhausted and hot, he wants you to choose him, even if he had just pushed you away.
At least tell him you’re mad. But it seems you’re too tired for that... shouldn’t you be able to pick him, conscious or not? With a sigh he yanks the blanket from your tucked grasp. A whine sounded in the room.
"to-ji..."
"c'mon." He pulled until you finally were awake enough to see him. Ignoring the words he had just spoken, his aforementioned grunts of it being "too hot" he lifted you from your spot onto his chest, your side of the bed soon baren as he swung his leg to kick your pillow off the edge, only to lean onto his side, locking you in his embrace.
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