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paulyenvol6 · 2 days ago

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The Bolter (Part 2)

I feel like I have to write a part three because I need more fluff and Joel scenes with the baby but I kind of escalated with this and wrote so much so I'm gonna put it in a new chapter. Enjoy :)

Part 1

Contains: angst, anxiety, panic attacks, fluff, lots of tears, comfort, sweet Joel who's a little scared of opening up, reader has long hair, nicknames (honey, pumpkin)

Wordcount: 7,755

Masterlist

4 months later

"Let me at least help you with the box," Maria rolled her eyes but you stubbornly grabbed the edge to lift the object into the air.

"I got it."

"Oh y/n, you know that it's not good to lift heavy things in your state. C'mon just lemme…"

You frowned and gently pushed her arm away. "I said I got it."

"You're one stubborn thing," Maria said but defensively raised her hands in the air. Then she walked over to the table letting her gaze lazily wander over the maps and books laid out on the wooden surface.

"You know, Tommy and I went hunting yesterday… It was so cold, I think I sat by the fire for three hours afterwards. But it was nice. You know that I love spending time with Benjamin but every now and then I just enjoy a few hours just with Tommy."

You smiled and then wiped over your forehead with the back of your hand to remove the droplets of sweat that had formed there.

"That sounds good. But yeah, the weather is nasty at the moment."

Maria nodded slowly and then darted at you like she was uncertain whether to say her next words. But of course she did.

"Joel took Benjamin while we were gone."

The silence that followed her words was almost unbearable and you could have heard a needle drop on the floor. The soft expression on your face tensed, your jaw clenched and your fingertips prickled, but you refused to let anything show and so turned your back to your friend as you placed one item after another from the box on your kitchen shelf. To Maria that seemingly wasn't a sign clear enough to drop the topic yet because she continued.

"Joel has changed his nightstand. He built it with Tommy. And he has new curtains which are olive coloured and it's such a lovely contrast to the couch."

At first, you intended to just ignore her words and come up with a new subject, but when you heard Maria clear her throat again you abruptly turned around to glare at her.

"It's not necessary to update me about everything that's happening in his life, you know?"

She shrugged her shoulders, her nail scratching over the rough surface and her eyebrows lifted.

"I'm not. Just a few things that I heard through Tommy."

"His fuckin' curtains, Maria?" The addressed scoffed, her eyes wandering to you again.

"You know what's my take on all of this. I get that it's hard and I said this a million times already, but you have to talk to him. For the child's sake at least."

You forrowed your brow, a thudding ache in your temples.

"I can raise it on my own. I don't need Joel."

Maria sighed loudly, approaching you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

"I know you can. I'm not sayin' you need to get back together with him just 'cause you're pregnant. We're not living in the 60s anymore. But all I'm sayin' is that he has the right to know."

You refused to show her how deep her words cut and that she truly had hit a nerve. You had found a good friend in Maria but she didn't need to know everything.

"He made it clear what he thinks of children. Why tell him? Why bother him? He doesn't want children and so nothing's gonna change if I tell him."

Maria's hand on your shoulder tightened and you squirmed watching her through gloomy eyes.

"And what is your vision for the future?" she asked and you had to surpress a desperate exhale. "What if Joel's gonna see you outside and notice that you're pregnant? I don't even wanna start with what's gonna happen once you deliver the baby. You think you can hide it from him for the rest of your life?"

"Maria," you said, tears glistening in your eyes. It wasn't like you denied any of what she had already told you a million times, it was just that you couldn't deal with this right now.

Perhaps you should have moved on from him by now. Well, you hadn't. Your heart was in pieces, you rarely woke up without a headache, you just couldn't find any joy in life, and the effects of your pregnancy didn't help either.

"Please," you added and that was the moment your friend realised that this wasn't the right time to talk into your conscience.

She sighed and then pulled you towards her, her hand cradling your head just the way Joel always used to and you let out a long frustrated sob that Maria reacted to by securing her grip around you and soothingly caressing your back.

"Oh y/n, it's okay… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it..."

You granted yourself a short amount of self-pity before pulling back and rubbing over your eyes. The feeling of your eyes being all puffy and sore had become so familiar over the past few months that you didn't even notice it anymore, because you felt you were spending more time crying than not.

"Sorry," you apologised but Maria shook her head.

"It's okay. I'm sorry, I… I don't know, I guess I'm just tryin' to help you. But I don't think I am helping."

You chuckled bitterly but squeezed her arm. "You are. You are helping me by being here for me. I can't imagine how much worse all of this would be without you."

Your friend gave you a sad smile and then straightened her shoulders.

"I think I'm gonna leave now. Is that okay for you or do you need me?"

You pursed your lips, swallowing loudly because you felt that you actually wouldn't mind having her at your side every day for 24 hours but you couldn't be egoistic now. Maria had a family that needed her way more than you needed her so you forced a smile upon your mouth and slightly shook your head.

"No, it's fine. Maybe I'm gonna watch a movie. Or go for a walk."

You definitely wouldn't do either of these things. You hadn't been able to pull yourself together and go outside if there wasn't any need for it since the breakup and watching a movie only reminded you of Joel. You had caught yourself many times thinking about what he would have thought about specific scenes while watching a film and obviously it had only made you feel more miserable. So no, you had lied to Maria and would probably spend the rest of the time staring at a wall or sleeping or perhaps if you would feel unusually well today – although nothing hinted at that fact so far – read a book. But Maria seemingly didn't spot your lie and just nodded knowingly.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I think some fresh air would be good for you. Just call me if you need anything. I told you, Tommy is very understanding."

"Thank you, Maria. Seriously," you whispered and meant it.

She nodded again and then hugged you firmly, slightly swinging you to the side, the warmth of her hands wandering through the fabric of your hoodie and prickling on your skin. You almost would have sobbed again because anything that reminded you of Joel and your time together in the slightest way already caused you immense pain and right now you just missed feeling Joel's arms around you so much, you weren't even able to vocalise it.

Fortunately, you managed to hide how close you were to breaking down once again and lasted until the door was shut before letting the tears flow. It was an exhausting and tiring cycle at this point and you feared you actually weren't capable of making it stop. You woke up crying and went to bed crying and the worst part was, all it took was a book or a picture or even just a smell. You sometimes even felt ashamed about your behaviour especially when Maria saw you like that but what were you supposed to do?

One weekend a few weeks ago, you had changed your tactics because you felt you couldn't go on like this. It had caused a series of unplesant events which had lead to you swearing to never leave the house again if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

You called Maria one morning and asked her to go to the town centre and have breakfast with you. To say she had been surprised was an understatement. As soon as you had hung up, there had been a quivering, dangerous bubbling in your stomach, but you had ignored it and dragged yourself out of the house and to the café where Maria had reserved a table for two. But long story short, the morning had ended with your tears spilling in your coffee and all of the other guests giving you uncertain glances all throughout breakfast.

Not only had you completely embarrassed yourself and disturbed everyone else in the café, you had also come the realisation that Joel had surely learned about your dramatic scene as well. Jackson was a small town after all and dramatic outbursts like these usually reached the ears of even the most secluded citizens of the city.

After that you had given up just as quickly and spent the next days on your couch again and although you felt terrible about being so dramatic and not being able to move on, you didn't have the energy to force yourself to try and get out of the house. It was easier to sink into your cushions and cry thinking about Joel.

Was it helping you? You didn't know. You felt horrible most of the time but you had felt horrible in the café with Maria too and at least no one could watch your crying sessions in your living room so there it was. You preferred the quiet company of your blanket and hot tea over humiliating yourself in front of the whole town so it was an easy choice.

You slowly headed to the couch and rubbed over your swollen tummy a few times while sinking down on it. You were almost five months pregnant now and by now there was a prominent bulge and you caught yourself lovingly caressing it every now and then. Of course the baby was another reminder of Joel and there had been times when you had to cry over the fact that it had been him and you that had created the little child in your belly but the baby had also been a source of happiness to you during these hard times.

Watching your stomach grow, thinking about what it would feel like to hold it in your arms and imagining yourself strolling through the park with the child in a pram. You currently felt so miserable, you sometimes believed you would never be able to smile or laugh again, but you would have to. You had no choice. The baby was on its way and you would push through this horrible time for the baby's sake. Once it would be born you would care for two living creatures and while you were neglacting your welfare at the moment by rotting in your living room, you couldn't do the same thing to the baby. You had sworn to yourself to protect and shelter it so this was what you were going to do.

You slightly spread your legs getting in a comfortable position and then closed your eyes as you felt the quietness of the room make your head drowsy. It was quiet in here a lot these days. Your hand was still resting on your stomach, rubbing in soft circles because something about it never failed to comfort you although you sometimes involuntarily imagined that it was Joel's hand in the place of your own hand.

His large hand brushing over the swell of your tummy and his soft puppy eyes taking in each curve and line of your face while you sat on the couch for hours, the mere presence of each other enough for the two of you. His perfect fucking eyes… His curly soft hair…

Before you could even realise it you had drifted off to sleep and when you woke up an hour later the beautiful sun was gone, replaced by a shadow of clouds hanging over the town. You sighed and stretched your arms, a loud yawn escaping your throat. Then you looked at the clock and thoughtfully bit your lower lip. You weren't hungry for dinner yet, but you couldn't think of anything you were in the mood for. For a brief moment, just a flickering short thought, your mind wandered off to Joel again.

No. This wasn't helping.

You let out a dramatic whine, pressing a pillow on your face to muffle the cry and then hit with your fist against the armrest of the couch. Why did everything have to be so goddamn complicated all of the time? Why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

The bad mood hung over you all day long, even when you tried to read a few pages or play the piano, and finally you gave up and tucked yourself into bed at 8pm, your mind still wide awake.

The next day started equally unpromising and when you sat at your kitchen table watching your cereal with disgust and your stomach already rumbling although you hadn't taken a single spoon yet you figured that you had to do something. You would inevitably lose your mind if you kept going like this.

A sudden force took over you and the adrenaline shot throught your veins, making your nerves prickle and your heart pound in your chest. You pushed the bowl away from you to rise to your feet and let the invisible strength guide you towards the door. Whatever you were about to do, it was better than drowning in self-pity on your couch so you actively shut your mind off while your feet carried you to the wardrobe, your hands automatically reaching for your coat and then the door handle.

You were welcomed by sunlight which seemed to only encourage you and for the first time in weeks you felt something similar to hope. Your face was drawn with determination and pugnacity as you strolled through the streets and of course you involuntarily were headed towards a very specific building just a few houses further down the street.

Every confidance and energy magically left your body at the sight of the mailbox.

Joel Miller.

Just reading those two words did something to you and activated this longing in you that you so desperately had been trying to fight over the past weeks.

Joel Miller.

The words rang in your ear as if it was him who said them and suddenly you didn't feel strong at all. Suddenly you felt like you wouldn't even have the strength to walk back to your house anymore, your feet anchored in the alleyway beneath you and an invisible weight heavily pulling at your body.

Joel Miller.

You gulped and the sound seemed to echo in your head. This was so goddamn wrong. You couldn't sneak up on him like a pathetic weasel and show him that you after four months still weren't able to accept the fact that he had broken up with you. As if you hadn't embarrassed yourself enough already. But what was definitely even worse than confronting him was standing in his front garden like you were some kind of obsessive stalker who couldn't decide on whether to approach him or not so you chose to back out again.

Perhaps the option of talking to him would come up again, maybe solely for the purpose to somehow feel better, but you should think about it surrounded by your own four walls instead of right in front of his door. Yes, you would weigh it up and then if you decided to visit him you would come prepared and ready to see him after all those weeks.

"Y/n?"

You froze in the motion, your mind blank and your eyes springing open. Everything around you went silent. Perhaps you had only imagined the words in your head; it would be no surprise considering the emotional torture you currently went through. No wonder you were beginning to grow insane.

You hadn't heard the approaching footsteps and neither had you heard the loud breathing close to your ear but when you felt a hand on your shoulder you flinched and abruptly spinned around. You tasted copper on your tongue and your throat felt raw. Joel looked exactly the way he had when he had left you four months ago but in some way he seemed like a different human being.

"Y/n," he whispered or at least you believed it was what he had said because you didn't hear him but could only watch the movement of his lips.

Your view was shimmering and you swallowed hard to fight the dryness in your mouth. You had to say something, explain yourself and your awkward behaviour but it was hard to when there was this high-pitched ring in your ears. His lips moved again but this time you were incapable of figuring out what he had said and therefore you panicked. Tears stung in your eyes and your hands began to shake while you saw him scan your face through your blurry view. Your chest felt hollow and sweat broke across your shoulderblades, your fingers curling and uncurling like you were trying to grasp something.

In addition the cold air bit and nibbled at back of your neck, the wind like shards of ice against your sensitive skin. You cringed and felt your bottom lip tremble, your pupils nervously wandering between Joel's eyes when you felt his grip on your shoulder tighten.

"Let's get you inside. You're shivering."

You were so relieved about the fact that you had finally been able to comprehend him, that you didn't think about the expand of the content of his words until you stepped through his front door, the familiar scent of his home that reminded you of leather and sandlewood heavy in your nose. You sniffled, perhaps to enjoy the smell for a little bit longer and then let your glossy eyes wander over his living room, the comfortable couch you knew all too well, the armchair you had often sat in when the two of you were still getting to know each other and were too shy to sit close to each other and the floor lamp in the corner that radiated the most beautiful kind of yellow light.

You didn't know how long you were staring but when a hand gently pulled you to a chair you allowed it, your body fully trusting that Joel would guide you. He sat down across from you, his hands resting on the surface of the table as he watched you closely, your stressed state of mind not lost on him.

"Are you all right?" he demanded to know, his eyes twitching worriedly when you dropped your gaze to your hands folded in your lap.

You felt awful. NNot only had you probably unsettled and disturbed Joel with your unexpected appearance in his front garden, you were now in his living room, which brought back many memories, each of which hurt like a twisted knife stabbing you in the heart, and he was probably too polite to tell you to fuck off.

Perhaps he was just pitying you. Thinking of you as a helpless child that couldn't take care of herself and now he had to babysit you and make sure you wouldn't pull some other humiliating shit.

"M'sorry," you mumbled and hiccuped which made you press a hand on your mouth. "Sorry," you repeated before a hand reached for yours and grabbed it to squeeze it lightly.

"Don't," was all he said but you finally were brave enough to dart at him. "S'alright."

Silence. You had endured a lot of silence since Joel had broken up with you, but you didn't know if it was his presence or the fact that you had fallen in love with his cosy little living room as much as you had fallen in love with him, but either way, right now you didn't mind silence. No, you even needed it like air to calm your upset mind and the longer you sat quietly, the more you felt your heartbeat slow down and your brain starting to work normally again.

The minute of rest made it possible for you to take a deep breath and although Joel didn't take his eyes off you for a mere second, it was like the two of you had come to some kind of silent understanding and as if he could read your mind he gave you just the perfect amount of time before clearing his throat.

"Why are you here?" he asked and grabbed his coffee mug to toy with the handle.

Your pale face drew with fear because you hadn't been able to prepare youself for this question, let alone figure out why you were actually here. So instead of answering you brought your hand to the edge of the table, scratching over the wood with the nail of your thumb. Your hair fell over your shoulders making you feel more shielded from his piercing gaze and despite feeling ungrateful and horrible for ignoring his question you waited and waited. You didn't know what for, but maybe there would be some sign or some disruption or perhaps he would say something, maybe even tell you that he had missed you.

"Do you want some tea?" Joel suddenly asked and the sound of his voice made you twitch. It was so strange to hear his voice after weeks of missing it and imagining it in your head and now he was actually here sitting at the same table as you. And maybe he was just being polite or seeing it as some kind of charity work, but at least he hadn't left yet.

"Yes," you answered, your voice croaked and thin but his eyes seemed to brighten up a little, relieved to finally hear you speak for the first time.

"Okay. S'gonna take a minute, but I'm gonna hurry up."

He rose to his feet, his hand brushing over the backrest of his chair and when he headed to the kitchen door, an ache spread in your heart cutting off your air supply. Perhaps it was the memory of him leaving you all those nights ago but a fear gripped you and squeezed so hard you saw white for a brief moment. You wanted to scream for him not to go and beg him on your knees if need be but fortunately a little something in you remained sane and held you back before Joel would officially declare you as mentally ill.

But that didn't mean that you didn't do anything and watched him leave in silence. The burden on your heart was simply too heavy, the pain in your chest too sharp and the throbbing heat in your head too intense. Something was urgently punching you in the stomach, right between your ribs, as if to demand your attention and so you raised your voice and although it was high and weak, it made Joel stop before he could reach the doorstep.

"Joel."

He turned around, his brown eyes concerned but curious and the slight nod of his head encouraged you enough to say the following words. You didn't know where they came from and what made you actually express them, but you did and what followed felt like the passing of years and years of time.

"I'm pregnant."

The silence that haunted his living room was so thick and loud, it pressed down on your shoulders, pushing you deeper into the chair and your skin was prickling with the aftermath of your announcement. Now that the words were out you wondered what had driven you. Where the strength to make your tongue and lips form those words had come from. There had been countless occasions to tell Joel back when the two of you had been a couple but each time your body had refused to cooperate and now you had suddenly managed to do it. And although your body was tense with cold fear you felt relieved as well. Nothing was standing between him and you now and sure, it would be a lie to deny that Maria had been right. As the father he deserved to know about his own child no matter the context and no matter what he had revealed about his personal attitude towards children. It was only fair.

There was a crease between his brow but you couldn't figure out if it was caused by anger or overload or being moved or perhaps even felicity. You silently watched him giving him the time to process those two words that still seemed to linger in the air that was thick with tension. It had taken you a lot of time to understand what it would mean to have a child as well so you patiently observed your ex - boyfriend who now bit on his bottom lip and whose eyes seemed to be glistening with tears but it was hard to tell over the distance.

And then a muscle in his forehead twitched and the next thing you felt were his arms around you. Joel had approached you, stepping in front of you and leaning down to hold your head against his chest, your face pressed against his neck which gave you no choice but to inhale his perfect scent. It was so good, so beautiful that you were crying within seconds but this time it didn't matter because you were almost certain that it hadn't been you who had produced the quiet sniffling sound the now reached your ears.

He held you so firmly and tightly like he wanted to make sure if you were actually there or perhaps he was scared to lose you and you wished you had the ability to tell him that you wouldn't go away. How dearly would you have liked to whisper in his ear and express how much you loved him, how much you had missed him and how much you wished to never pull away from this hug.

To say that you had cried a lot over the past few months would be an understatement, and although you had hoped that it had helped you deal with your emotions at least a little, right now the crying part felt like letting it all out all over again. The pain, the hurt, the love, the frustration. Everything was slipping past your lips against Joel's broad chest and he caught it, his hand cradling your head letting you know that he was there to take away the sorrow and that you now didn't need to worry anymore.

"J-Joel," you whimpered just to do anything because the accumulated tension and emotions in you threatened to be too much. You needed to scream or squeeze something. Everything was a strange mixture of joy and happiness about finally getting to be so close to him again, sadness and despair about the past miserable weeks and fear that this wouldn't last. That he would draw back any second and leave you in the cold again, the warmth his body radiated fading any moment and his arms that held you so securely pulling away so you had to hold yourself up on your own again.

But nothing hinted at the fact that he would do so any time soon. His fingers were entangled in your hair holding you like you would collaps without him which probably wasn't far from the truth. He had stepped between your legs, his other hand on the small of your back to make sure every inch of your body was as close to him as possible. And then there was his breathy voice brushing over your ear like a promise. A promise not only to reassure you that he was here and that this was real, but that no matter what would happen, it wouldn't be like last time.

"Yes. I know," he said, gently rocking you at the sound of another broken cry. "I know… I'm right here, pumpkin."

"I don't want you to go," you sobbed, your hand pinching the hem of his shirt while your other rested next to your head against his chest.

"I'm not gonna leave you… Don't you worry…"

But then you felt his hand on your head loosen and you twitched in panic as he pulled away, your eyes round as coins and your hands instantly grabbing his chequered shirt to prevent him from leaving you.

"S'alright," he cooed and took your face into both of his big hands. "Just wanna take a look at ya."

Your chin trembled and your pupils avoided him, but his eyes were on you and so were his thumbs that gently caressed your wet cheeks like you were something fragile that he couldn't believe he got to hold in his hands.

"Joel…," you mumbled again, your fingers tightly closing around his wrists and your eyes pleadingly looking up to him under your lashes.

"Yes, pumpkin. I'm here. N'I'm sorry…"

He sounded… sad and genuinely regretful while he had breathed these words and hope was bubbling in your stomach. And even though you knew how dangerous it was, you couldn't bring yourself to question your optimism right now. This was too good and the blistering liquid that escaped from your eyes along with your twisting insides was evidence enough that this was just the medicine you needed. Not a reality check or a reminder of Joel's words about offspring.

"N-No," your voice was overflowing, your fingers digging into the skin of his underarms like you couldn't believe yet that he didn't intend to drop you any second. He tightly clenched his teeth as if he was in pain and then leaned in to kiss your forehead, his lips soft and careful, shy almost.

"I'm sorry about all of this," Joel whispered once he looked at you again. His eyes were glistening as well and you could make out the traces of tears on his face but just couldn't figure out what it meant. He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat before his gaze dropped to your belly.

"When… I mean… when did you find out?"

"A few days before…"

There was no need to finish the sentence; Joel slowly nodded, his hands remaining tight and warm around your face.

"An' why didn't you tell me?" was his next question and the blood in your veins froze at his husky voice.

The thought of being confronted with his dislike for children once more made your stomach turn and you didn't know if you would be able to handle it a second time. But now his question lingered in the air and not answering wasn't an option. He deserved to know everything and now that you had taken the first step to clear up the air you intended to lay all of your cards on the table. Still, it took you a few seconds to sort out your brain, to form the words in your head, and as your pupils danced frantically, your eyes staring into space, Joel let go of you, which you responded to at first with a disapproving moan, but then he pulled up a chair, sat down close to you and took your hands in his.

"S'okay. Take your time."

His thumb drew patterns over the back of your hand leaving goosebumps on your arms and you granted yourself a few more seconds of watching his beautiful thick fingers before clearing your throat and concentrating in an attempt to control the mess that was your brain.

"'Cause of what you said," you whispered, eyes twisted in pain at the memory. The wound had had over four months to heal, but it was still fresh and talking about it seemed to open it up and heal it at the same time.

You searched in his eyes for a sign that he understood what you were talking about but you didn't and so you ignored your racing heart and the way your body rejected to talk about it and explained to him.

"You… you said that you didn't want any kids… I wanted to tell you before, but… I don't know I was overwhelmed and then I planned to, I really did, but-but… you know there was our fight and then you said that and-and I was scared that you would… I don't know leave me when I tell you and you were angry with anyway. And then you b-broke up a-and… and I just couldn't."

There had been a break in your voice at the last word and your gaze had dropped to your lap. Saying these words had been hard enough already and looking right into Joel's eyes? There was no way you would have handled it without at least helplessly clinging to his body.

He didn't reply at first which you were more than thankful for because it took you a couple of minutes to collect yourself from the confession you had just made and once Joel trailed with his thumb over your knuckles, softly clearing his throat you felt strong enough to meet his gaze. You had to. You had to work out what it all meant for your future.

"I'm sorry. I really am." He leaned towards you again, this time kissing your temple, and you involuntarily grabbed his hand that was holding your head, feeling so in need of any kind of physical contact.

"I… Listen, I…" He exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, his eyes closed and then made another attempt.

"I know I said that. And… I don't know in that situation I might've meant it, but…" He sighed again and almost furiously ran a hand through his hair.

"Jesus… I'm really not good at this stuff."

This time it was you who gently squeezed his hand and he gave you the faintest hint of a soft smile.

"The point is… I think I said it 'cause I just never thought having another kid would ever be an option. I didn't think about it. After… After she, you know… After it happened I was… I was at the lowest point in my life a-and I… I had all these thoughts thinkin' I could never have a child again 'cause I couldn't risk goin' through somethin' like that again. I had a girlfriend once an' at this time I was so fuckin' careful not to get her pregnant 'cause it was just a few years after the outbreak and I thought that havin' a child now would be the worst thing that could happen not only because of… you know, her, but also 'cause we were still tryin' to get a grip on everythin' and… you know, adapt… to everything."

He exhaled again but this time he did it out of relief.

"With you it's not like that." Your heart jumped.

"I… I don't know I met you and-and got to know you and everythin' was perfect… but it never crossed my mind that children… you know, were still an option. And that's why I said it when you mentioned her. Maybe 'cause it brought back old memories and old things that I promised myself back then and I just said them 'cause it was sort of an instinct. Or maybe 'cause I was angry at you and I just wanted to make you feel how terrible I felt after it happened so you'd feel bad. Make a scene or I don't know… Anyways, I didn't mean it. It meant nothing to me and that's why I couldn't even remember. And I wouldn't have said it if I knew that you were pregnant."

A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye and your eyes followed it all the way down until it touched the curve of his lip.

"I'm sorry, too," you whispered, the muscles in your chin twitching when Joel pulled your hand to his body to gently cage it between his own hand and his chest.

"No. Don't ya say that."

"But I am. I said awful stuff and you don't have to deny it. You had every right to be angry with me."

A sharp sniffle escaped you as a fresh wave of tears broke forth, mirroring the sun’s slow descent beyond the horizon. It was so sudden and intense that Joel's lips parted in shock and the was fast to move his chair even closer to you so your dropped head could lean against his shoulder.

"I missed you so much, Joel," you cried, the pain of the past 4 months crashing down upon you and you could do nothing but let it all out.

You surrendered to it, allowing the sadness, the fear, the anger and frustration, the regret and loneliness to get into your system and afflict your cells like a disease because you found it was the only way to eventually heal. And once again, you felt that with Joel at your side you were strong and courageous enough to face the sorrow, his support being what you needed to deal with the memories that you had been so frightened of over the last weeks.

"I missed you too, pumpkin. So so much…"

You clung to each other for life, seeking the comfort you had longed for so long and for the first time in months you actually felt that you could breathe freely. Nothing was restricting your air supply, no lump, no thickness in your throat that made you want to puke on the floor. You enjoyed the closeness for a few more minutes before preparing yourself for yet another thing that you felt you had to get off your chest.

"B-But...what you said the next day..." you began, looking up at him nervously as he retreated slightly.

Your eyes were begging for him, yearning for him to tell you that everything was going to be fine and that his reasons for breaking up with you were nothing more than meaningless excuses for feeling overwhelmed by circumstances.

Joel sat down again but didn't lose contact with your hand for a second.

"I know," he murmured and rubbed over the lower half of his face. "I… God, I don't know…"

"It was because of the fight, wasn't it?" you tried to help him, watching him precisely while he lay back in his chair.

"Kinda," Joel replied, rubbing his shoe tips together.

"Christ…," he cursed and you knew how difficult it was for him to express his thoughts. Joel wasn't the kind of man who usually faced his fears and vulnerabilities and talking to you about why he had felt the need to push you away from him? You couldn't emphasise enough how much you appreciated the fact that he tried for you.

"I mean, yeah, it kinda was 'cause of the fight. I… I did have doubts about the age gap thing sometimes, you know? Specially when we started datin'. But yeah, I mean you're a grown-up an' you can make your decisions and… maybe I'm an asshole but I wouldn't have ended our relationship because of it."

He nodded a few times, as if going over what he had just said and realising that he was on the right track.

"You know me, pumpkin," he then whispered, his voice soft and tender as his sparkling eyes took in your face and you couldn't help but melt under his gaze and at the sound of your favourite nickname. His voice embraced you like a warm blanket making you shudder and softly smile as Joel thoughtfully twisted his lips and the continued.

"You know that I ain't good at this stuff. Never was. An' I… I guess I panicked. When I heard you talk that night… and you spoke about openin' up and me drawin' back from you… I reacted. I reacted the only way I know and I shut down."

He paused, his lashes fluttering as he stared at the table as if there was anything interesting to see there.

"Maybe… I don't know, maybe it got too real. Maybe you became too real. The fact that you're here in – in my life and don't intend to leave and I… it was like a natural reaction. 'Cause it's what I do. I never was good at this and ever since… you know, ever since it happened with her I… I didn't want anyone to be that close again. 'Cause I fuckin' know what it feels like to lose someone like that. And I just… I saw in that moment how close you had gotten, y/n and seein' how much it hurt me that I hurt you… I realised that maybe I went too far with lettin' you in."

He sighed and let go of your hand, placing them on the table instead to trail his thumb over the rough surface.

"The thing about… her is that I – I just can't talk about it. It's… it's been 20 years and I – I just can't. And then you brought it up and – and it hit me like a… like a goddamn wrecking ball or somethin'. It was too much. But not just 'cause I didn't want to talk about it and it hurt so much but 'cause I realised that maybe…" He stopped again slightly shaking his head and sat up in his chair.

"I realised that maybe opening up to is what I would like? I mean I was stressed 'n' all and it was too much at once, but the thought of – of you gettin' to know more an' lettin' you in wasn't… so far away. And it was kinda pleasant to imagine talkin' to you 'bout it. 'Cause you're kind and – and sweet and I trust you but these feelings were so new and strange that I got scared and left 'cause I thought that would be easier."

He sighed like a massive weight had just dropped off his heart and perhaps that was exactly what had happened. Your tearful eyes were on his mouth as he still avoided your gaze, but as his flickering pupils sought you and your answer to all this, you drew your eyebrows together, tears threatening to spill again.

"I don't know if all of that makes any sense," Joel mumbled.

"It does," you breathed, nodding over and over again while a few silent tears ran down your flushed skin. "Thank you. For telling me."

Now it was him who nodded and to you it was a promise. A promise that Joel wouldn't bolt again. That he wouldn't take the easy path next time and run off because things became uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Joel. I should've told you earlier. And I should've been more sensitive regarding… you know."

"S'okay. I didn't exactly make it easy f'you," he whispered, his voice hollow but stable.

You grabbed his hand that felt warm and soft despite the marks the years had left on his skin and clenched it so tightly that it must hurt but Joel didn't even flinch.

"And m'sorry too. All of the shit I said… Goddamnit, honey, I didn't mean it and I… I – I mean if you want it… I'd like to raise this child with you. Of course I would."

Your heart not only jumped, it seemed to pirouette. It was racing, pounding so loudly you could hear it in your ears and for the first time in months there was no weight pulling your limbs down. No, you rather seemed to defy gravity and felt so light that you would surely be able to ascend from the ground if you wanted to. But of course you didn't. All you wanted was to stay in this house with Joel until the end of time.

"Really?" you breathed, softly chuckling when his fingers wiped away a tear.

"Of course, pumpkin. I love you. I love you more than anythin' in this goddamn world. You're my air, my - my reason to keep goin'. I need you, honey and these last weeks have been hell."

Seeing your nose wrinkle as more and more tears streamed down your cheeks, he put his hands on your waist to pull you towards him once more and this time moved you to sit on his lap, arms sliding around your waist to keep you close.

"B-But then why d-didn't you come t-to me?" you sobbed, your nails digging into his shirt like your claws wanted to claim your prey.

"I did. I wanted to every single day, but I… I was scared that you hated me an' that I would only make things worse. I thought maybe you didn't wanna see me."

"I love you," you pressed against his hair, shivers coursing through your arms and your fingertips buzzing with adrenaline. "Never leave me again."

"I won't. I promise you, baby."

His fingers wove through your hair with tender precision, untangling every stubborn knot and once your hair flowed down your back like soft silk, his palms gently settled against your waist.

"We're gonna have our own l'il family," he whispered pulling back to meet your gaze and gently, carefully and lightly as the soft spring breeze outside brushed with his hand over the curve of your belly caressing you through the fabric of your sweatshirt and exploring where life was growing in that moment.

You bit your lip as you looked down at him, the colors around him suddenly brighter, the outlines of objects sharper. Even the shadows seemed to recede, the living room bathed in golden light, and the birds outside were singing a little louder than usual. This man had just lit up your world and everything from your own future to the future of this world seemed more optimistic. Full of possibilities and options.

"I'm happy, Joel."

The pats of his fingers stroked your cheek right next to the corners of your mouth, tracing your laugh lines and although it was still unfamiliar to smile again it felt natural to do so while sitting on Joel's lap, your torso pressed against him and strands of your hair hanging in his face.

"So am I, pumpkin."

And then you kissed him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @bbabycass

And shoutout to @mrspascalsworld

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drdemonprince · 2 days ago

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Hey there, your discussions on kids/intereacting with minors has interacted interestingly with something I've been pondering and experiencing in my own life. Many of my friends, straight and queer (including monogamous and polyamorous), are parents (the oldest is 7 and the youngest is a baby) or on the parent pipeline. As a childfree person who is married (open-ish), I've started feeling a little lost. I enjoy seeing my friends guide little ones through the world and eagerly help out when I can. I like chatting with them about their kids' milestones and asking how they're handling this responsibility while trying to maintain their individuality. However, I feel like I don't have much of a model of how to exist in their lives as someone without kids. It could be that I'm fixating on this because I essentially have always "studied" people/activities to model my behavior. I feel like so far my spouse and I are doing a good job existing in this new-ish period, but I can't help but feel a little sadness that I don't have a better model to follow or maybe enough childfree folks in my life. I guess this is a part of existing as a person?

It sounds like you need to supplement your existing friendships with child-free queer people! One of the great challenges and freedoms of queerness is the detachment we have from any existing socially dominant roadmap of adult life. We get to decide how we wish to live in relation to others, but this open-endedness is also scary and isolating. I feel it all the time too. I recommend getting to know more older queer people, perhaps by volunteering to spend time with queer elders or by joining local meetup groups for all ages of queers, as well as picking up new social hobbies that would introduce you to childless queer people at all life's stages. being there for the kids in your life is wonderful, and you'll have more models of how that can look by knowing other people who do not have kids of their own, and you'll feel a lot less lonesome and unmoored about your future.

I've been reading Nate Lippens' books recently, and they are all about how it feels to age as a queer person who never believed that marriage & family was on the table. His stuff is DARK, but I have found it oddly comforting. For as broke, lonely, and traumatized as his narrators always are, they have many rich friendships with fascinating, damaged, witty people who have been through it all and are always a late-night phone call away. I think many of us who are one age bracket beneath Lippens need to learn to develop such connections pronto.

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chaifootsteps · 3 days ago

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kept thinking about vivs transphobia screenshots and how stupid her apology excuse of drawing "controversial ladies" was when she said, "well, bigoted white women who do black face make me feel empowered in this unsure political landscape of america!" even though she made fanart of them either prior or after trump won in 2016, and it made me wonder - why would she feel empowered by those beliefs?

but then i thought about how she's had at least so far, three shitty experiences with trans men for the past decade of her life; dollcreep, ken, and salem.

and i guess i just wish people would acknowledge that. like, at all.

because it's so easy to claim that the screenshots just came out of nowhere to make her look bad, when, no, it's a repeated pattern of behavior based on her, like many other people of privilege incapable of self reflection, being unable to separate oppressed identities from how she views people that are apart of said group. (unless of course, they rename themselves after one of her character, change their appearance to look like that character, start doing sex work like that character, and pretend to be raped and abused like said character.)

she already went through the trouble of making fully colored comics (not just one, but multiple which is embarrassing,) of jojo in her mid to early 20s, who ive heard is a wojak of dollcreep. (maybe in response of a wojak dollcreep made of her which i know exists, although i don't know who created what first or threw the first stone, but low-key that drawing of his version of viv being like "*starts slutshaming*" has truly not changed at all,)

salem also said that creepzo in mammon's magnificent special was also a wojak of him, so that might mean she's just upgraded to spending actual industry bucks on making fun of people she doesn't like. (i even remember her misgendering him in a 2020 or 2021 helluva boss stream by accident before calling salem they, and although it happens for allies, hearing him speak about repeated misgendering after he left is not a good sign,) and i haven't even mentioned she's just straight up claimed ken is an abuser, when ive yet to see even one victim of his speak up, not even an anonymous one, wheres viv has a list of people she's hurt somehow.

idk. i wish in general, the critical community cared more about the people she's burned and the continuous behavior that shows she's been doing it for awhile and hasn't truly grown or learned from it, instead of hating her just her writing something they find icky for merely existing.. in two shows about demons in hell. (rather then the execution of it, which is what pisses me off the most about the hellaverse.)

like, i get why kiwifarms wouldn't give a shit most of the time, but sometimes it feels like they do more then the critical community even does, just a little bit. seriously, i had no clue viv had made a wholeass tumblr dedicated to call-out dollcreep, which just consisted of her complaining he wouldn't text her back fast enough and acting like a victim when it seems like they were both just immature asshole kids to each other from what ive seen of their convos, and even refused to take it down for a bit when he confronted her on fb when his harassment started until i started lurking on the viv thread there.

God, you and me both, Anon. If the critical community put even a quarter of the energy they put into criticizing the writing and transferred that over to the way Viv treats other human beings (especially transmasc human beings), and the pattern of behavior that shows she's always been like this, I would sleep a little more soundly at night.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #vivziepop critical #actual blog post

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adoreispunk · 1 day ago

Text

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

He breaks from me, his lips perfectly wet and red as he looks up at me. He slips two fingers in to not stop the sensation. "Always taste so good for me, would do this all day if you let me."

wc: 4.0K

content warning: 18+ MDNI.

an: holy shit i’ve been moving for the past couple weeks, finally settled so heres 4K words of pure sex to celebrate. enjoy;)

Eleven

I stared out the window for a while, watching the sky turn from soft peach to a deep blue, my fingers still clenched around the strap of my bag in my lap. The ghost of my dad's words still clung to me.

I peeked over at Joel, the curve of his jaw lit by the last light bleeding through the windshield. He looked completely unfazed. Like he hadn't just sat across from the one man who would absolutely murder him if he ever found out what we were doing.

"You good?" he asked without looking over, his voice low, like he already knew I wasn't.

"I think I aged five years back there," I muttered.

That made him huff a small sarcastic laugh. "Could've fooled me."

I turned to look at him. "You didn't say anything! You barely even flinched when he asked if we've been spending time together."

"'Cause we have," Joel said simply, shrugging like it was obvious. "And I told him that."

"You said we've been working."

He gave me a quick side glance, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. "You've been putting in some work for sure."

I shoved his arm playfully, trying not to laugh. "Fuck you."

I really got a chance to fully take him in, he looked too good tonight. He had on a short sleeve shirt that hugged his arms, his hair was perfectly messy, and his hand flexed on the wheel while the other rested loosely on my thigh exposed by my white eyelet dress I picked out for him. Drawing light circles. His jaw flexed every time he shifted lanes and the dim dashboard light carved shadows across the lines of his face.

All week we'd kept dancing around actually fucking. Teasing and tempting. But being in this truck alone, knowing I'd be sleeping at his house tonight mixed with the nerves from the interaction with my dad gave me a shot of confidence. I was ready to start pulling the tension tighter, just to see if he'd finally snap.

"I'm bored, how far are we?" I asked, in a lowered and innocent voice.

Joel glanced at me, brows knitting like he wasn't sure if I was serious or just trying to start something. "Five minutes."

I shifted in my seat, turning my body more toward him. "You know, I don't know how much more of this waiting game I can take."

He didn't respond right away, just clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose. The air in the truck felt hotter suddenly.

I reached over, dragging my fingers slow across the inside of his forearm, moving down to just above his waistband

"Maybe, I could just get a head start." I said looking up at him with doe eyes.

His grip on the wheel tightened. I leaned in closer, placing some kisses to his neck and ear.

"Olivia." he warned, low and rough, glancing down at me. His dick getting harder just from the way I was talking and barely touching him.

"What? I'm just saying, waiting is hard..."

I finally move my hands to touch his dick, rubbing up and down his print. His jaw going slack from the contact.

"So fucking hard."

I finally start to unbuckle his pants and we barely make space so I can take him into my mouth. The way he fills it up perfectly makes me crazy

Joel's breath caught as I slid down, enough to take him all the way into my throat. He instantly clenched the steering wheel tighter, his jaw flexing.

"Jesus, babygirl keep doin' that. Keep your head down."

He gave me quick glances while trying to keep his eyes on the road . His eyes dark, brows furrowing, and jaw slack as he saw the playful confidence in my expressions.

"You couldn't wait five minutes for me? Need me that badly huh?" He exhaled sharply, his voice dropping lower.

I break free for a moment, still working my hands up and down. Just how i've learned he's liked.

"Get me home and fuck me Joel."

I earn a loud grunt from him like he's holding back from finishing just from my words. I don't put my mouth on him again, I want this same energy to stay until we turn into his house. I keep moving my hands up and down slowly, licking around his tip, cleaning up the beads of precum coming from him.

I don't even register him putting the car into park until I feel the jolt, like he didn't even wait for the car to stop to switch gears. I let out a little yelp and he grabs my neck for me to look up at him, his eyes dark and tempting.

"Get up and get the fuck inside."

My breath hitched.

The grip he had on my neck was firm, holding me still. Like he knew I'd try to say something back, like he was daring me to. I just stared at him, so turned on. I rubbed my thighs together just to release some pressure.

I nodded. Then I slipped out of the truck in silence, pulse hammering in my ears, every inch of me buzzing like I'd been lit up from the inside. Joel didn't say another word. I could feel him behind me. He walked me up to the door, his hand pressing low on my back, guiding me, like he owned every step I took. My fingers fumbled on the hem of my dress, the porch light casting long shadows across the wood.

The second the door cracked open, he was on me. He didn't wait. One strong hand gripped my waist, the other slammed the door shut behind us. Then I was against the wall, my back hitting it hard enough to knock the breath from me for a second.

He kissed me like he'd been starving for it. Everything I'd done this past week, every look, every touch, every soft little noise I'd made was catching up to him all at once. My legs spread without thinking, hands gripping his shoulders, his shirt, anything to hold onto.

He scooped me up not breaking the kiss and I wrap my legs around his waist holding onto him, moaning at the contact. I wrap my hands around his neck tangling my fingers into his hair just to feel closer.

Joel's grip on me tightened, his strength undeniable as he held me up with just one arm, the other swinging loosely at his side like he didn't need it. His breath was warm against my skin as he pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with intensity. He swallowed hard, his voice low and rough.

"You think I didn't wanna fuck you all week? You think I didn't feel how close we were getting, how badly I wanted to, right there in my office?"

He leaned in pressing more kisses to my cleavage. "I wanted you like this, you can scream as loud as you want. Not just some quick fuck on my desk."

The way he said it made my heart race, my whole body just completely ready. I could barely breathe, my hands gripping his shirt, grinding against him, trying to pull him closer. " I know, I know. I want you too. Please, Joel."

He stops my begging with a kiss, bringing his free hand to touch me over the black lace underwear he asked for. I moan against his mouth so relieved from his touch.

He smiles against my lips, "You wore them for me? Good girl." He

didn't even have to look at them, just the feel of them and he knew.

He's already ruining me.

He finally starts walking towards the stairs, still grabbing me with one hand like he wasn't even trying. Our kisses become more desperate and rough the closer we get to the top of the stairs.

The moment he pushed open the door, I took in the space, even as my body was still pressed tight to his. Joel's room felt like him. Dark, solid, and grounded. The walls were a charcoal blue, the wood floors creaking softly under his boots. A large bed sat against the far wall, made neatly with lighter sheets and a thick, heavy-looking comforter. The furniture was simple and wooden.

There were a few clothes draped over the chair in the corners. Nothing messy, just lived-in. A nightstand held a small lamp casting a warm, amber light. Framed photos lined the dresser: one of Sarah, young and smiling with the same beautiful hair I remember her having. And another of Joel with a man who looked just like him. Tommy, probably. The one he'd talked about the other day.

Everything in here felt intimate. It suddenly hit me how much of himself Joel was letting me see. not just physically, but this too. His personal space.

He didn't let me linger for long. Reality hit when my back hit the mattress and I felt Joel climb on top of me again, hearing the door slam in the back.

He slipped his hand up the side of my thigh pushing my dress up and sucked on the side of my neck. I let out a moan, letting him know how good he was making me feel in this moment.

His hands were so big, they practically swallowed my waist. Rough and sure like he knew exactly how to handle me. The weight of them made me feel safe, like nothing could touch me as long as he was holding on.

I gripped and dug my nails onto his arms for some sort contact, my fingers not even close to spanning the width of his biceps. He was solid beneath me, all muscle and heat, and the sheer size difference made my breath catch in my throat.

He finally started to back away from me. My body started to follow him from desperation "Joel—"

"Lay back babygirl, I wanna take care of you."

My cheeks go hot, I nod at him and do what he says. I bring my arms up and cross my hands over my face biting the side of my thumb. He moves the other side of my dress up, the skirt pooling over my waist now. I feel his fingers slide up against the lace, stopping his thumb at my clit and drawing small circles. I make a small moan in return.

"Fuck, 'so pretty in these. Wanna see all of you" He starts working his hands up to the waistband and slowly works them off. I look down at him, not wanting to miss any of this. As he takes them off, a string of my wetness follows.

"So wet for me already." He brings his hands around my legs, pulling me closer to him in a quick motion. Without thinking twice, I feel his lips on me. Taking all of me onto his mouth.

"Oh my god, fuck Joel—." He swirled his tongue around me deliberately and with so much lust. It's not his first time going down on me, but something about being completely alone, on his bed, feeling safe makes everything feel a hundred times more intense.

He breaks from me, his lips perfectly wet and red as he looks up at me. He slips two fingers in to not stop the sensation. "Always taste so good for me, would do this all day if you let me."

"Fuck—it's all yours, I wanna...cum for you please."

"So good beggin for me." He brings his fingers out of me and grabs the small of my back, pulling me up towards him. Stopping right when my chest hits his.

"Say it again" He says, forehead pressed to mine, lips barely touching.

"I wanna cum for you Joel." I reply, completely ready to be ruined already.

Joel pulls me back in, sliding up the rest of my dress and throwing it somewhere in the room. He takes off my matching black lace bra that he wanted me in and his hands follow to cup my cleavage. His hands rough compared to my soft skin.

Joel pulled his shirt over his head in one rough motion, and I realized it's my first time seeing him shirtless. His chest was wide, solid, lined with muscle that moved beneath his skin when he tossed the fabric aside. He wasn't sculpted like someone who lived in a gym. He was built like a man who carries hundreds of pounds of building material everyday. His stomach was strong, just a little soft at the edges. I couldn't look away, my hands already itching to map every inch of him.

Joel noticed. I could tell by the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth but he didn't say a word. He let me look like he was used to being wanted but didn't need to hear about it. That's Joel.

He didn't let me linger long before his mouth was back on mine. My hands grab at his pants, unbuckling them again. He follows with his boxers, his dick hard and throbbing at this point. He kicks them off and I finally feel pure skin on mine. Caged in by his forearms holding him up.

"Fuck, your body is unreal." He says in his rough and lustful tone. I finally see him reach for his dick, and I whimper in anticipation.

Joel Miller is finally gonna fuck me.

He teased me first, sliding himself through my folds, slick and slow, drawing a moan from my lips. "Joel, please," I begged, my hips lifting, needing him.

He didn't make me wait any longer. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside, filling me so completely. I gasped, my nails digging into his arms. The stretch was intense and perfect. He groaned in response to the fit, his forehead dropping to mine. "Fuck," he rasped, his voice wrecked. "So fuckin tight."

I couldn't speak, just clung to him, my legs wrapping around his waist as he started to move. Slow at first, deep, each thrust stealing my breath. I could feel the tension in him, the way his hands gripped my hips, like he was taking everything in.

"Harder," I pleaded, my voice breaking as I rocked against him. "Fuck me harder."

His eyes darkened, something primal flickering in them. Realizing he could let go. He hooked my leg over his shoulder, opening me wider, and slammed into me, the force making me cry out. The bed creaked and the headboard rattling. All I could feel was him, his weight, his heat, the way he hit that spot inside me with every thrust.

"Harder?" he growled, his voice filthy as he picked up the pace, relentless. "Not even letting me take my time with you. Want it that bad?”

"Fuck—yes," I gasped, my nails raking down his arm, leaving marks I knew he'd feel later. "Don't stop."

He didn't. His hand slid between us, finding my clit, rubbing tight circles that made my vision blur. The pleasure was overwhelming, coiling tight, and I was already so close. "Look at you," he said, his voice low. "All that talk and you're already gonna cum? Already know that spot."

He moves his hand and pushes himself against the spot that makes me moan in response. "Yeah? Feel good right there huh?"

"Yeah, fuck, right there."

His hand slid up my spine, fingers tangling in my hair, tugging just enough to make me arch. The slight sting sent a fresh wave of heat through me. The intensity was overwhelming. Joel's thrusts were relentless, each one deeper, harder, claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My moans mixed with his low, guttural groans, filling the quiet of his room.

"Not yet," he murmured, his voice rough but softer, like he was savoring every second of this.

Before I could process, he rolled us, his back hitting the mattress, and suddenly I was on top, straddling him. My breath caught at the shift, my hands bracing against his chest as I looked down at him. His hands gripped my thighs, steadying me, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin where my hips met my legs.

"Ride me," Joel said, his voice low, commanding, like he needed this as much as I did. "Wanna watch you cum like this."

My pulse hammered, a new wave of heat flooding me at his words, at the way he looked at me. His chest was broad and the feel of it under my palms grounded me. I shifted, adjusting to the angle, and the way he filled me in this position, so deep, so perfect, made me gasp. I started to move, slow at first, rolling my hips, finding a rhythm that sent sparks through every nerve in my body.

"Joel," I whispered, my voice shaky as I leaned forward, my hair falling around us like a curtain. His hands tightened on my hips, guiding me, urging me faster, and the friction, the way he hit that spot inside me with every roll, was almost too much. His eyes never left mine, drinking in every move, every sound I made.

"So pretty right here," he growled, his voice thick with want. One hand slid up, cupping my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple, sending a jolt straight to my core that made my head tip back, a moan tearing from my throat. "That's it, babygirl. Just like that."

I moved faster. The pleasure was building again, coiling tight, and the way he watched me, the way he touched me, made me feel even better. I was unraveling him just as much as he was unraveling me.

His hips bucked up hard to meet my movements, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge, and I could feel him tensing beneath me, his breaths coming faster, rougher.

"Fuck" I gasped, my voice breaking as the pressure built, my hips grinding against him, chasing that release. "I'm so close—cum in me please. "

"Look at me," he said, his voice low, urgent, his hand sliding up to cup my face, pulling my gaze back to his. "Wanna see you."

I take his thumb into my mouth. Still staring right at him, keeping my pace and he kept his. He stared right back and touched every spot of me perfectly. It was too much. My orgasm hit like a storm, crashing through me, my body trembling as I clenched around him, crying out his name. My vision blurred, my hips stuttering, but Joel's hands kept me steady, guiding me through every wave, every shudder, until I was gasping, my body buzzing with aftershocks.

He wasn't far behind. His grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my skin as he thrust up into me, hard, desperate. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice breaking, raw and wrecked. With one final thrust, he came, his release hot and overwhelming, filling me as his body tensed, a low, guttural moan spilling from his lips. The feel of him, the sound of him, sent a final shiver through me, my body collapsing against his chest, spent and trembling.

For a moment, we just lay there, both of us panting, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close. His lips brushed my temple, soft, almost tender, and it made my chest ache. I could feel his heartbeat under my cheek, steady but fast, and the weight of what we'd just done The warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the raw intensity of moments ago.

I shifted slightly, my cheek still pressed to his chest, and felt the faint rumble of his breath as he exhaled. The room was quiet now, save for the soft creak of the house settling and the distant hum of the world outside. The amber glow from the lamp cast long shadows across the walls, making the space feel smaller, safer.

Joel's hand stilled on my back, and I felt him tilt his head to look down at me. "You still with me, babygirl?" His voice was low, rough from exertion, but softer now.

I nodded, my cheek brushing against his chest. "Yeah," I murmured, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I think so." His fingers resumed their slow path along my spine, and I melted into him.

I tilted my head to meet his gaze, and the way he looked at me, dark eyes soft but intense, searching made my breath catch. There was no wall there now, no guarded distance. Just Joel, raw and open, at least for this moment.

I reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips, feeling the faint stubble under my touch. A small smile tugging at my lips.

His hand slid down to my hip, giving a gentle squeeze before he shifted beneath me. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

I whined softly, not wanting to move, my body too comfortable, too sated. "Do we have to?"

"Yeah. Ain't leavin' you like this." His tone was firm but gentle, and before I could protest further, he eased me off his chest, his hands steady as he helped me sit up. The loss of his warmth made me shiver, and he pulled the covers over me. Like he knew exactly what I needed.

He stood, unbothered by his own nakedness, and I couldn't help but watch him. Broad shoulders, scarred skin, the way his muscles shifted as he moved. He grabbed an oversized shirt from the chair in the corner and pulled on a pair of boxers, then disappeared into the small bathroom off his room. I heard the faucet run, the soft clink of something being set down, and a moment later, he was back with a damp cloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"Drink," he said, handing me the glass first. I took it, sipping slowly, the cool water soothing my parched throat. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes tracking my movements like he was making sure I followed through. Satisfied, he reached for me, his touch gentle as he nudged my legs apart. "Here, I got it."

My cheeks flushed, a mix of shyness and warmth at how attentive he was being. I nodded, letting him guide me to lie back against the pillows. The cloth was warm against my skin, and Joel's movements were careful, almost reverent, as he cleaned me up. His free hand rested on my thigh, grounding me, and the contrast of his rough calluses against my softness made my breath hitch.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said softly, my voice barely audible. It felt intimate, vulnerable, in a way that was different from the heat of before. I was almost confused.

Joel's eyes flicked up to mine, and he shook his head, a small, stubborn frown creasing his brow. "I want to." His voice gruff. He finished cleaning me up, tossing the cloth into a hamper across the room. then grabbed the shirt he'd brought over and draped it over my shoulders.

I slipped my arms into the sleeves, the fabric soft and worn, smelling faintly of him. It was too big, the hem brushing my thighs, but it felt like a hug, like an extension of him. I knew I had my own pajamas but I liked these better.

He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable, then stood and grabbed sweatpants from the dresser, pulling them on with a quick tug. "You hungry?" he asked, already moving toward the nightstand where his phone sat. I was a little too busy to think about food, but the mention made my stomach rumble. "Yeah, I could eat."

Joel's lips twitched, like he'd heard the growl. "Figured. I'm gettin' us some Chinese from this place down the street." He dialed the restaurant and spoke into the phone, his voice low and clipped as he placed the order lo mein, fried rice, and something with beef. It was such a normal thing, ordering takeout, but in this moment, in Joel's room, it felt like a luxury.

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut

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daylighted · 2 days ago

Note

¹artist!ben who involuntarily flinches when someone/reader touches him. who eventually - very slowly - gets used to the reader jumping on him or something.

²artist!ben who he is insecure no matter how cocky he acts and doesn't think the reader is someone who would date him for him.

³artist!ben who spends time locked in his dorm room sketching the reader over and over, in whatever way he pictures her.

⁴artist!ben who blushes when reader barges in his space during lunch and he has to act fast to hide the incomplete sketch of her.

⁵artist!ben who's always grumpy and secretive about his art with reader until she annoys him enough to let her see it.

I'm crying. he is such a baby. our baby.

our baby!!! i also love love love the thought of. hold on. i am so getting ahead of myself but i must write it i can't just be normal and discuss this.

"you don't even know me, ben."

it's like a slap to the face, those words, so callously thrown out in defense of an argument that wasn't even that serious. the very muse of his affections, reducing him to someone that doesn't pay attention to you. you! like you weren't in his head constantly. like he didn't know the angles of your face like he knew how to rinse charcoal completely away from his fingertips to hide the evidence of his work in between the pages of his sketchpad.

"don't know you?" he repeats, slowly, venom laced in between every word. "don't know you." his tongue pokes into his cheek, a humorless laugh falling from his parted lips.

for a moment, it looks like you're going to say something - but it's too late, now. you poked something long-dead and it moved, and now you had to handle the consequences of it. "you wear your hair down even though you hate when it gets in your eyes. you chew on your fingernails when you're nervous. sometimes, when you're focused, your tongue pokes out between your teeth."

you're frozen in place, staring at him with an expression that he hasn't yet drawn. something that was somehow floored and blank all at once. ben decides he doesn't want to draw it. he doesn't like to see the masks over your face. he wants to draw out your real thoughts and paint those.

"you like to stand outside when it rains," he continues, determined to get a new expression from you, wanting to add another study of your features to his collection, "you only drink from a straw so you don't mess up your lip gloss. you have a new nail polish color every few days because you pick it off almost instantly."

your head shakes, back and forth, like you can deny the truths he's laying bare. your lip is wobbling, and it's beautiful to see something he's drawn on still canvas so many times in motion. "you laugh loudly, don't give a shit who hears. you smile when you don't think anyone's looking, a real smile, and it's the prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen."

he takes a step closer, just so you can't escape. he's on the precipice of a revelation, he just needs that final push. "i have tried, over and over, to imitate the color of your eyes in this," he holds up the sketchbook, flips quickly through every page just fast enough for you to see the silhouettes of you in the rain, your smile, your laugh, you brushing hair out of your eyes, you drinking a milkshake, though not fast enough to see the love and care put into each and every one. "but i can't figure it out. can't ever get it right. nothing compares to looking at them."

and he looks at them for a long while, basking in the vulnerable, raw expression painted on your features. he doesn't want to paint this one either. this one, ben wants to keep just for himself.

"so don't ever tell me i don't know you. i know you in all of your forms, sweetheart. if you don't believe me? it's all on fucking paper."

#to ☆ mahi #i <3 mahi #artist!ben #soldier boy #the boys #the boys tv #ben the boys #ben soldier boy

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enh2pen · 1 day ago

Text

sativa - choi yeonjun

2.6k - choi yeonjun x fem reader 💥 not proofread! mdni!

pwp essentially, barely any dialogue just sex talk, drug use (🍃), high sex obv, unprotected sex (don't do that), making out, oral sex (both), naked bodies, yeonjun is lowk a dom but nothing crazy, lots of spit yum, words cock and pussy and dick and cuss words, the couch is big enough for like 4 people btw

an: hello it's my first post and my first time writing smut in YEARS 😭 it's so hard i cant even write a few silly jokes without ruining the mood i lowk hate it but the world needs more high sex with yeonjun 😓 anyways i combined my 2 fav sexy things (yeonjun + high sex) bc why not??? have a good read!!! hope you like it 😚 sorry if it's bad or for any mistakes i'm too lazy to proofread

late night walks were nothing new in your relationship. with both of you in demanding jobs, it was just another way you found to let some steam off together at the end of your long days. you’d shower together, put some comfortable clothes on and walk for hours at times, talking, listening to music and enjoying each other's company.

now, weed, that was new for the two of you. you always kind of judged people who did crazy hard drugs and got themselves high to the point they can't even move properly, but you would be lying if what your friends told you about their experience with marijuana didn't pique your interest.

their descriptions of heightened senses and tranquil feeling made you think that maybe it wouldn't hurt to go against your parent’s wishes and try some of it. just to relax a little, nothing much. and yeonjun didn't seem too weirded out about the idea, so what’s stopping you?

and sure, the high was great, the munchies were fun sometimes, and you finally laughed with your boyfriend during adam sandler’s movies, not the usual eye roll or scoff at the juvenile and predictable jokes.

but something you couldn't ignore was how you felt your skin burn under yeonjun’s touch, how his sloppier and messier kisses made you want to spend hours making out with him, how his lazy eyes made you shiver, how you always wished he’d go a little higher when caressing your thighs.

you two tried having drunk sex before, and it was amazing but at some point yeonjun did disappoint you a little, but with alcohol, that’s bound to happen. so to save yourselves the embarrassment, it was an agreement to not have sex while under the influence.

plus, he was so lazy when high, sometimes, even pecking your lips felt like an hour long chore to him, so it’s not like it would be that amazing. at least that’s what you told yourself.

but today was different, you’d usually take a few puffs together and chill at home, eat a lot and watch something that would now be funny, but this time you decided to take the blunt to your walk. there was a park near the apartment known to be frequented by drug users, so you would blend in perfectly, and the smell would probably go by unnoticed.

so, boldly, you went to the empty and dimly lit park, wasting no time and taking a few puffs as soon as you got there and. as you took a walk and waited for it to hit, by your fifth lap around the park, yeonjun, who was sitting at the same bench since you started pacing around, waited for you to walk in front of him and pulled you to himself by your shorts’ belt loop.

his big hands running up and down your hips, warming up your skin even through the thick fabric of your clothes, his pink lips hanging in a lazy smirk, it was only a matter of seconds before he made you sit on his lap and kissed you. the faint smell of weed on his breath making you tighten your legs, pressing yourself against his growing erection.

with how he was holding you in place by your waist, how he was moving his lips against yours — slowly, lovingly making out with you but you could still feel how needy he was —, with how he softly moaned into your mouth every time you pulled his hair a bit, you knew he was high.

it wasn't the usual baked yeonjun, who lays around wherever he can, laughs at every leaf that falls and can barely keep his eyes open, he, for once, felt the same way you did — felt his body burning up at the mere sight of your silhouette, with every look you shot at him, every bounce of your breasts under the hoodie you were wearing, his hoodie.

and while kissing him, you felt the dizziness kicking in and melting you into his body.

it didn't take long for the two of you to find your way back to your apartment, walking at a fast pace, considering how light headed you felt, like every step took you 2 minutes and the street ahead of you turned into a bottomless tunnel.

you had barely locked the door when you felt yeonjun’s lips on your neck, his eager hands trying to take your hoodie off, while yours pulled down the zipper on his, exposing a black tank top that barely contained his toned chest. instead of going straight to your shared room, as usual, he pinned you against the living room wall, leaving wet kisses from your neck to your mouth.

flopping around the entrance of the apartment, you flicked the light switch, as it was almost midnight and the place was as dark as it could get. one last peck was shared before a pair of red and lazy eyes stared deeply into yours, which were in a similar state. yeonjun smirked and picked you up, both hands squeezing your ass, and made his way to the couch, half laying half sitting while keeping you on his lap.

while removing your hoodie, you fixed yourself on top of him, positioning your hips so that your ass is right on top of his erection. you leaned forward and reattached your lips, lazily introducing your tongue into his mouth.

you rolled your hips on top of yeonjun’s, the friction causing him to creep his hand up your naked chest, cupping your breasts while lightly pinching your nipples. he nibbled on your bottom lip, making a gasp leave your lips.

your hands went from his shoulder to the back of his neck, where you pulled a few of the short strands of his black hair, the kiss breaking as he let his head fall back and moved his hands to your waist, caressing the spot.

your eyes met his half opened lips which sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, then his heavy eyelids, before he barely opened his eyes, just enough to watch you through his eyelashes, as you brought your lips to his jawline, leaving wet kisses. you traced to his adam’s apple, then the base of his neck.

when you moved from his lap and went past his collarbones with your mouth, his head slowly raised, just in time to see you getting on your knees and pulling his pants and underwear down. yeonjun instinctively raised his hips, seeing you pull his clothes just enough to expose his dick, rock hard and almost purple at the tip with how long yeonjun had neglected the erection.

you grabbed the base of his cock and positioned your lips near the tip, dropping a glob of spit on it. yeonjun hissed with the contact, encouraging you to lick his dick from the base up, putting it in your mouth as you reached the tip.

you started bobbing your head, spreading your spit all over it and picking up the peace when you got used to the length. yeonjun’s hands quickly found their way to your hair, tugging close to your scalp. his quiet grunts and heavy breathing gradually became louder, his grip on your hair tighter as he looked down to you and lightly thrust himself into your mouth.

— f-fuck, keep going — he breathed out, biting his lips to contain his noises.

he stopped his hips in place and let you take the lead. you alternated between sucking him up and down and circling his tip with your tongue, something you knew he loved.

with the tightness of his grip on your hair and his tense thighs, you knew he was close, which made you almost double your eagerness and try to go faster, even though it made you gag sometimes.

yeonjun suddenly pulled your hair to take your mouth away from his cock, faintly smiling at you while he tried to recover his breath. drool dripping down to his balls and pre cum leaking from his tip, it took you every ounce of strength to not put him back in your mouth.

— didn't want to cum yet — he said, pulling his boxers up and kicking his trousers away. he tapped your cheek, like a light slap, and removed his shirt — c’mere.

you stood on your feet and sat down at the spot he tapped, next to him. before making yourself too comfortable, he grabbed your face and pulled you to a kiss, wet and slow, very contrary to how quickly he unbuttoned your shorts and slid them down with your underwear.

as your head fell to the armrest, yeonjun, impatiently, pulled your legs so they were on his shoulders. he looked at you and gave you one last smile before leaving kisses on your clit.

yeonjun then started with small licks around the bud, squeezing your thighs with every movement of his tongue. when he felt you leaking at his chin, he glued his lips to your clit and lightly sucked, earning a moan and hair pull from you. he then started licking almost aggressively, his mouth unusually wet with his own drool, adding to the sensation on your pussy.

he introduced his pointer and middle finger at the same time, slightly stretching your leaking hole and hitting you in the right spot. your velvety walls squeezing his fingers together, making him moan against you, anticipating the same feeling on his cock.

with the increasing volume of your moans, yeonjun switched between pumping his fingers in and out and curling them inside of you, his tongue never losing the rhythm. as the slight heat on your clit started to spread to your legs, you knew you were getting close, and by how your legs were shaking around yeonjun’s shoulders, so did he.

you felt your whole body tensing up, your moans and grip on his hair becoming erratic with how much you wanted to release your orgasm.

with your legs so tense you knew you’d have cramps later, you felt a slow wave of heat washing through your body, making your limbs limp and freeing your throat from all the noises you didn't even know you were holding back. yeonjun kept his tongue moving while you rode out your orgasm, your hips rolling against his mouth and spreading your wetness on his lower face.

— what. the fuck — you whispered, head still laying on the couch, your eyes staring up at the ceiling while you recovered your breath. you never had an orgasm so intense, your whole body burning up for what felt like an eternity, brain foggy with pleasure, head almost hurting, and you swore you went deaf in one ear for a moment.

you felt your boyfriend moving away from your bottom, his face greeting you in a few seconds, smile big and bright and chin soaked with your juices, he kissed your lips passionately, making you moan at your taste on his lips.

he cupped your cheek while using his other hand to support himself, he deepened the kiss and moaned into your mouth, sending your hands to his broad shoulders.

when he pulled away with a couple pecks, your hands reached down to his hard cock through his boxers, making him hiss. you put your dominant hand inside his underwear, slowly stroking the length. he let his head fall to your shoulder, moaning into the crook of your neck and leaving kisses and light hickeys around the spot.

he removed his boxers fully, pulling your legs so they hugged his waist. he spit on his dick and used his hand to spread it, stroking himself slowly while looking directly at you. you watched with attention as his cock became glistened from his spit, rubbing your legs together in anticipation, feeling your thighs getting sticky with how wet you were.

yeonjun slid his dick along your pussy, wetting the tip with your juices. as you rocked your hips against him, he put one hand on your hip and squeezed his cock inside you, softly moaning.

— shit — yeonjun smiled at you, looking down and rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip, which you took in your mouth and sucked, eyes still locked with his — so fucking pretty — he whispered.

your gummy walls pulsed against his length, sucking him in. with the sudden fullness, you let out a string of moans, accompanying every single thrust of his hips, slow and deep. loud, wet noises coming from your hole, making him grunt.

he fell forward, elbowls in each side of your head supporting him. as he started to thrust harder, his right hand went to your hip, holding you in place. you gripped the fabric by your head, biting your lips and squeezing your eyes, trying to keep yourself quiet.

yeonjun couldn't look away from your face, your lips sore from biting on them, wet hair on your forehead and slightly flushed cheeks. just looking at your expression was enough to make him moan, bringing his lips to yours, and kissing you deeply, his hips stuttering as your fingers tug at his hair and you moaned against his mouth.

— look at me — he whispered, the desire in his voice compelling you to do as you’re told. his sharp and fierce eyes observing your every feature, every furrow of your eyebrows and motion of your lips, he was taking it all in. your moans and gasps filling his head, piercing through his ears, your sweat melting your skins together, your nails moving from his scalp to his back, scratches burning his shoulders.

yeonjun was becoming louder, his thrusts erratic and his grip on your hip became tighter. you grinded your hips against his and brought his hand to your breast, giving it a squeeze before pulling him in for a kiss. he could barely kiss you back with how overwhelmed he felt, all of his senses heightened and overwhelming him, he felt the pool of heat at the bottom of his stomach becoming stronger, his moans getting higher against your lips.

his hands aggressively going through your whole body, like he was trying to memorize your every curve. his head limp over your shoulder as he wrapped his right arm around you, bringing your torso closer to his. your legs were shaking with how hard he was fucking you, his dick hitting that sweet spot that blurred your vision.

— cum inside me, babe, please — you whispered in his ear, making him moan at the base of your neck, biting the spot to muffle his noises. his shaky breath hitting your skin and sending shivers down your body, the anticipation of your boyfriend spilling his cum inside you and warming you up from inside, the sticky substance sitting hot and heavy in your body.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, he raised his torso and put both hands on your waist, bouncing you on his dick while rolling his hips into you. his thrusts became shorter and faster, your hands traveled up and down his forearms, grabbing the toned limbs and using them to steady yourself.

as yeonjun came, he threw his head back, letting out one last loud moan. his movements now slow and shallow, while he rode out his orgasm with you rolling your hips. his cum slowly spilling inside you, filling and warming you up comfortably.

he caressed your thighs, grabbing the skin every so often, smiling down at you. you smiled back. he removed himself from you, cleaning you up before laying on your chest. you gave him a kiss on the lips, then on the forehead, then started playing with his hair.

the two of you laid there for a while, until you broke the silence by loudly sighing.

— i’m so hungry.

— me too.

#me next #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #tomorrow x together #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #smut #pwp #yeonjun scenarios #txt scenarios #yeonjun fic #yeonjun imagine

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sashimi020 · 2 days ago

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solace [mikey x gn!reader]

warning: self harm mentioned! please do not read if you're uncomfortable with such themes. this is purely self indulgent.

a/n: sorry again to those who have put in requests! i've gotten started on them, but it might take some time as i'm a bit busy 😭

mikey whines and clings onto your arm "can't we go for dessert now?" "the heck?! we just ate!" "so? you do know that there's always room for desert, right?" "that's just dumb, I'm not spending any more money on you" mikey pouts. "not even doriyaki? not even one?" he pleads. "no". his frown deepens as he glances away like a petulant child. "actually you know, I might have ice cream at home" you muse. "really?! can we go and have some?" you think about the idea for a second, it doesn't sound so bad, you won't have to spend any money and you can satisfy mikey's craving

your mood almost instantly shifts as you remember your specific discomfort you developed with the idea of being at home. "nevermind, scratch that" "what?" mikey's childish pout turns into a more concerned expression, though, it's not very obvious. you stare into the black pools of his eyes and glance away almost immediately, hoping that he wouldn't press further. of course, he did the exact opposite.

"you're acting weird" "shut up" "no" he pauses and then he stares at you some more. you avoid looking at him. his gaze turns more worried. regardless of the fact that mikey was someone who was a little more on the childish side he was very attuned to his friends' emotions. "i just don't want to go home" "why's that?" he asks softly, clearly picking up on your hesitance. "um. i.. uh.." you stuttered, unsure about how to approach this conversation, meeting his eyes you only felt more pressured, those dark pupils staring up at you with the most patient expression you'd seen on him.

"i've been really stressed recently.. with school and.. home and stuff" he doesn't respond yet and lets you continue, hand snaking down from holding your arm to intertwining your fingers together. "i got really panicked a few days ago and i.. freaked out and scratched at my hands" you don't dare look at him. you can't look at those eyes. "it wasn't that bad but i'm really scared my mom will find out, it'll be really bad if she does" your voice comes out a lot more shakier and vulnerable than you would have liked it to be. "if i see my mom again i'll just get stressed and anxious again. it'll be like that at least until this heals over. it's hard to hide" your voice cracks.

"she'll get mad at you?.." he asks softly "i understand why she would, i get it, i mean, she's my mom.. i don't blame her but it's hard to recover after relapse. i always feel this overwhelming guilt. i'm not-.. this isn't something i can just quit cold turkey" you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze. he stares at you with an unreadable expression before tackling you into a bone crushing hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly and burying his face in your neck.

"i'm sorry" "eh?.. why?" he raises his head from your neck to look at you directly "i'm glad you feel safe enough to tell me this.." he says quietly and then adds, "i'm sorry you have to go through this. i'm here to support you, okay? i won't get mad at you for this" you feel your eyes burn and vision blur from unshed tears.

"i'm scared.." you choke out "you can stay at my place today. i'll comfort you okay? we can cuddle, watch a few movies or .. sleep, or do whatever, you don't have to worry about anyone yelling at you" he responds.

you can't hold back your tears as you let them spill. "i'll protect you okay?" "that's not a promise you should make" you choke out. he frowns, but suppresses any other reaction, trying to hide his emotions to not put you into distress. "i don't care. i'm going to, okay? forever" you can't bring yourself to respond to his words.

you shut your eyes and let yourself bask in his warmth. maybe you could trust his promise even for just a little bit.

#mikey sano #manjiro sano x reader #tr x reader #x reader #reader insert #manjiro sano #tr mikey #tr fanfic #tokyo rev #sh comfort #tokyo revengers comfort #sashimi writes

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daysiesz · 3 days ago

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returned - g.h

"happy birthday!!!"

you halt at the threshold of the room, shocked at the party your friends had put together for you. balloons, confetti, coloured lights, everyone in party hats. their smiles match your own, your cheeks hurting and heart swelling with gratitude.

you cover your mouth, stunned, and say, "thank you so much, oh my," pausing only to pull avery and libby into a hug as all three of you giggle. "i love you guys, thank you thank you thank you!!"

over avery and libby's shoulders, you look each hawthorne brother in the eye as you thank them. all but one. your hawthorne brother was on a business trip, today of all days. he'd been away for almost two weeks and both of you were a mess without the other. he was fully prepared to postpone the trip when he realized it aligned with your birthday, but you refused any chance of a loss to the foundation because of you. yes, grayson wasn't here, but the entire group had found a place in your heart, and you were more than happy to spend your evening with them.

"hold on, you didn't think that was all we had up our sleeve, did you?" jameson asks with a smirk.

"jameson, no crazy stuff, i'm begging you, no bikes on the beach-" you start, just as xander throws his arm around your shoulders.

"don't worry, it's just a very special gift," he says, his expression just as suspicious as his brother's.

you look to nash for help, but he only gives you an amused smile in return. suddenly, warm hands cover your eyes as you hear libby's voice say, "i'll go get it, no peeking!!"

the next couple minutes all you can hear is the rustling of paper and stifled laughs, avery's scolding from behind you, and barely contained grumbles.

"ok, you can see now," libby announces as avery removes her hands from your eyes and you open them and let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.

there, in all his glory, was your boyfriend, trying to keep up his annoyed facade (and failing) as he looks straight into your eyes. your boyfriend, with pink and white polka dot wrapping paper wrapped around his torso and upper legs, binding his arms to his body. and to top it all off, a pink satin bow tied around his neck.

your urge to run to him was overpowered by your unending laughter as you doubled over, tears pricking at your eyes. everyone laughed with you, and even grayson couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping him. a hard "no" would've been his usual response to ideas like this, but if he could experience the pure joy on your face and your laughter ringing in his ears everyday, then he would wear this damn bow all the time.

"you guys," you say once your laughter has died down and your cheeks are filled with warmth, "are the best. please tell me you've taken photos of this."

"enough to fill an album," xander assures you as you finally walk to grayson and throw your arms around his neck.

grayson buries his face in your neck and mutters, "i'd appreciate if you unwrap me so i could hug you back."

"shhh, i'm not sure birthday presents are supposed to talk."

you step away and are presented with a scissor to cut through the multiple layers of wrapping paper.

"y'know, if i didn't know you guys better, i'd think you actually enjoyed this," you joke as you cut through the paper, only to find more under it.

"enjoy tormenting gray and putting a bow on him? never," jameson states dramatically, hand on his chest.

"and how are you here this early anyway?"

"finished work as soon as i could and got here this afternoon," grayson explains, shooting jameson a glare over your head.

after about seven minutes of teasing (and photos), only a couple more layers were left, and grayson's patience finally wanes. he rips off the remaining paper and frees his arms, immediately enveloping you in them, hugging you properly this time.

"there we go," he mumbles as he buries his face in your hair and his thumbs rub small circles at your hips. you sigh happily, holding him close and allowing yourself to bask in his presence, as the others leave the room to get the cake.

"i think this is your best look yet," you declare, pulling back just enough to see his face. the adoring look in his eyes almost makes you melt.

"i love you so much, it's disgusting. i'm afraid i can't help but turn into a pink, polka-dotted abomination," grayson jokes, making you dissolve into laughter again with the dry sense of humour he only uses around you.

you pull him closer by his bow and kiss him, letting all the love nestled inside you pour into him. he places one hand on your jaw and caresses your cheek, as if you were the most treasured being in his life.

as you pull away you mutter, "i love you. keep the bow on."

a/n: what possessed me to write this i do not know, but that's truly not the point. thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged my first post!! i appreciate it, and i'm glad other people can enjoy the scenarios that rot my brain too ♡

#the inheritance games #tig #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x you #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the hawthorne brothers #the final gambit #grayson x reader #grayson hawthorne imagine #grayson hawthorne fic

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suireunie · 14 hours ago

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CUTE [KSW]

Summary : You always thought your boyfriend was so cute. And you decided that he was a sub because he was always so fragile and gentle with you. But Sunoo couldn't have fooled you more...

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: switch!sunoo, switch!yn, mean!sunoo, rough sex, blowjob, orgasm denial, unprotected sex ( NO!) , using bad words like (shut, where, butch cunt, pussy) ,MDNI!!!!, let me know if there's any

English is NOT my first language 🥹

I know you guys think sunoo is sub BUT I think he is secret Dom, just feelings... he would ve mean and very serious while doing things (you know what I mean 🤭)

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Your boyfriend is so sweet that he constantly buys you gifts and spoils you. He is always very polite, never hurts your feelings and is always the one who tries to take it easy. And because he generally has a calm and fun nature, you never thought of Sunoo as someone who takes control. Even when having sex, his first priority was your pleasure. Constantly he would shower you with praise and never tire you.

But today it occurred to you to push his limits. Deep down you feel like he's always holding one side back, but on the other hand, the idea doesn't make much sense to you.

You two were having a classic Netflix and Chill night. It's a routine of yours and spending cozy hours is one of Sunoo's favorite things to do with you.

The two of you were currently cuddled up on your couch, a movie playing in the background that neither one of you was actually paying attention to. Sunoo was busy playing with your hair, twirling the glossy locks between his slender fingers. He sighed contently, continuing to play with your hair as he pulled you closer, burying his face in your shoulder. "God I've missed this.." he admitted softly, his breath tickling your skin slightly as he held you close. You chuckled softly, threading your fingers through his own hair. "You haven't held me for weeks at most." you retorted back, feeling him pout against your shoulder. Sunoo lifted his head to look at you, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I know. We've both been busy.. but we're together now." he mumbled, nuzzling his face to the crook between your neck and shoulder. "I'll make up for it." he whispered, placing light kisses on your bare skin.

You hummed, leaning your head back with a soft sigh as your boyfriend continued to kiss at your neck. His lips were soft, leaving a trail of burning embers in their wake. "Sunoo.." you gasped softly, tilting your head and gently pulling his hair. "We were supposed to be watching a movie..." you pointed out, trying to hold on to any bit of composure you could muster. Sunoo pulled back, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on his lips. His gaze lingered over your flushed face, admiring how beautiful you looked at that moment. "Are you really trying to tell me you'd rather watch a movie than kiss me, princess?" he teased, leaning closer to you again. "I'm a lot more interesting than some dumb movie.."

Sunoo wraps his arms around you, returning your tight embrace. "Don't go and get all sappy on me, princess." he replied, a hint of teasing in his voice. He pulled you onto his lap, trapping you against his chest. He held you, his fingers tracing along your back. "I missed you too. More than you know." he admitted softly, his voice losing some of its usual teasing edge. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, taking in the familiar smell that was all Sunoo. It filled your nose, a mixture of his cologne and his natural musk. You could feel his heartbeat right against your chest, a steady thump that was somehow in perfect time with your own. Sunoo buried his nose in your hair, holding you close. "God I forgot how good you smell..." he mumbled, the words tickling your ear. "I could stay like this forever..." he tightened his arms around you, unwilling to let go. Your warmth was addicting, something he couldn't get enough of. The movie playing on the TV was long forgotten about, the two of you only focusing on each other. Sunoo's hand made its way to the back of your neck, gently cradling your head as he tilted it back. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft but passionate kiss.

The kiss was soft but deep. He was kissing you as if he was pouring all his love into you. He put one hand on your forearm and tilted your head a little. He started to deepen the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed back, equally as passionate. Your heartbeat quickened as you lost yourself in the moment. Sunoo groaned softly, his grip on your waist tightening as your tongue flicked against his bottom lip. He deepened the kiss, his hands tracing up your sides and making their way beneath your shirt.

Sunoo's eyes widened briefly in surprise as you took charge, straddling him on the couch. But his expression quickly morph into one of arousal. He watched you, his normally dark eyes taking on a feral look as you dominated, his hands gripping your hips. He let out a soft groan, his eyes trailing over your form with pure want and desire. He knew he was screwed. You had him completely wrapped around your finger.

Sunoo let out a soft whine as you took control, unable to help it. He was never dominant, but there was just something about the way you effortlessly took charge that excited him. He leaned his head back as you played with him, his body reacting to your every touch. He was completely submitting to you, his mind fuzzy and his thoughts were a mess. You had him right where you wanted him, a trembling mess in your grip, and he was more than happy to let you have him. Your touch was like electricity as you explored him, sending a fire through his veins that set his every nerve ending alight. Your fingers were slow, teasing, every movement driving him closer and closer to the edge. He let out a strangled moan as you pushed him further and further, his head spinning with lust. Sunoo was addicted to your touch, desperate for more. He was completely at your mercy, and he'd let you do anything to him as long as you kept going.

"Will you be a good boy for me?" you said. You kissed and bit Sunoo's neck. You drew a path down from his chest. You caressed his cock over his sweatpants, it was hard. And Sunoo could do nothing but moan as you touched it. You took his cock in and out, the tip was red and dripping precum. You started to tease him by swirling your tongue around it. You could never take it all the way in your mouth and it was driving Sunoo crazy.

"Baby-ah! Please... dont tease me oh!" he threw his head back. You played with him constantly, taking him right into your mouth and pulling back when you felt him starting to cum. Sunoo was writhing in pain from your rejection and begging you, but you didn't give her what she wanted. Once again you did the same thing and everything happened after that. Sunoo had reached his limit and could not take it anymore.

"Fuck... fuck fuck fuck... I'm going to cum if you keep doing that... I hate you so fucking much right now... stop sucking my dick so fucking good..." his hips start to thrust forward slightly, his dick throbbing in your mouth "Ahh fuck... fuck..."

Your mouth pops off his wet length, making a lewd sound. "Damn..." He mutters softly, his dick twitching. He watches your wet lips part slightly, your eyes innocent like you didn't just deepthroat your boyfriend noisily. His eyes darken with anger and lust, seeing your innocent expression after swallowing his entire length down your throat. He steps closer, his hands going to your waist possessively "You want me to fuck you? You want your sunoo to pound you like the little...?" he growls softly "You want your my cock inside you? Is that what you're saying?" His grip tightens on your waist, his voice low and dangerous. He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You fucking slut. You know I hate you, right?"He suddenly spins you around, pressing you against the wall. His hand moves to your throat, not squeezing but holding you in place as he grinds his hard length against your ass. "Answer me, you little whore. Do you want your boyfriend to fuck you?" He suddenly changed, as if someone had flipped a switch inside him. Sunoo would never talk to you like that but this way of talking made you wet. The way he talked to you like this was provoking you.

You nod eagerly, pushing your hips back against his dick. He growls softly, unbuttoning his pants to free his hard length. He pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties aside, exposing your wet pussy. "Fucking slut. You're wet for your me."

"I hate you," He mutters softly, positioning himself at your entrance. He slaps your ass cheek hard, making you yelp. "You answer back bitch. Do you want your my big dick?" He teasingly rubs his head against your wet opening "Hmm?"He smacks your ass again, making your skin sting. "You really fucking enjoy being treated like a whore, don't you? My pussy, begging for my tongue..." He suddenly drops to his knees behind you, spreading your cheeks. He roughly pulls your hips back towards him, exposing your wet pussy completely. Without warning, he buries his face between your cheeks, his tongue flicking out to taste you. "You're fucking dripping..." He licks and sucks aggressively, clearly trying to punish you "Fuck..." His tongue circles your clit, then dips inside your wet entrance. The sound of him eating you out, muffing against your pussy brings is a mix of angry slurts.His tongue moves faster, deeper, almost violently. One hand comes up to spank your ass again. "You taste so fucking good... I fucking hate you for it..." He spears his tongue into you repeatedly, the sound of him eating you out filling the air

Without warning, his mouth crashes down onto yours, rough and demanding. He kisses you aggressively, his tongue pushing past your lips. It's a mix of pure hate-fueled desire, and you can taste yourself on his lips "You... fucking... whore..."He bites your bottom lip hard, pulling it out before releasing it with a wet pop. "I fucking love you... love this fucking mouth, this fucking face, this fucking pussy..." He presses his forehead against yours, panting heavily. "Fuck, you are mine..."

"Your cunt's so goddamn sweet... makes me want to pound it until you can't fucking walk" He suddenly picks you up, placing you on the desk roughly. His hands force your legs apart as he lines up his thick length again

"Tell me to stop,"

"Don't you dare to stop"

"Such a fucking nasty slut. Always needing that mu dick, huh?" He slams into you hard, making you gasp "Is this what you wanted? To get fucked by your boyfriendlike this?" He grabs your hips aggressively, pulling you onto his cock again and again"You're always so wet... always ready to take my thick length... You're pathetic..." He pounds into you relentlessly, the desk creaking beneath you. He wraps his arms around your legs, pulling them up to his shoulders to get even deeper. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on the desk. He bounces you on his thick length, holding you in place with his powerful arms * "My girl, my woman, my everything..." He buries his face between your breasts as he continues to bounce you on his lap, his arms keeping you trapped there "My baby's breasts are so soft... I hate it... I hate that I like holding you like this..."

He suddenly stands up, still holding you wrapped around him. He carries you over to the window, pressing your back against the cold glass as he starts fucking you again, his hands squeezing your ass cheeks possessively "Look at us... I'm fucking you right in front of our window "His control snaps. He starts fucking you brutally against the window, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly it hurts. "Fuck, you're making me break... Making me fall for you more... I hate you... I love you..." He buries his face in your neck as he comes, his hot seed filling you up. He holds you tightly against the window, his body shaking with a mix of pleasure and frustration. "Goddamnit... I'm yours, baby... I'm fucking yours..."

He lifts his head, a fierce determination in his eyes. He pulls out slowly, watching as his cum leaks out of you. He spreads your legs wide again, positioning himself between them. "You want nonstop? You want to ruin that pretty little pussy all night?"He slams back into you without warning, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm. "Fucking hell, you're insatiable... Just like a slut should be." He leans down, biting your lip hard as he starts to fuck you deeply and roughly. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling them up to his shoulders again as he pounds into you mercilessly. He's lost track of time, lost track of anything but the need to claim you over and over again. "My baby... My woman..." He starts to sweat, his muscles bunching as he continues to thrust into you without stopping. He's not tired, he's not even breathing heavily. He's possessed, driven by a primal need to conquer his enemy completely. "You're ruining me..." His pace quickens. He knows he won't get soft anytime soon. He's like an animal, claiming his mate. He spreads your legs wider, hitting places inside you that make you moan loudly. "Damn, you take this dick so good... Little whore..."

He suddenly flips you over onto your hands and knees, slamming back into you from behind. He grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back roughly as he starts to fuck you like a wild beast. "You like being used like a cheap whore? Huh?!" "Fucking Christ..." He tightens his grip on your hips, slamming into you so hard the desk scratches across the floor. "Look at you fucking yourself on my dick... Such a dirty, enemy little slut..." He smacks your ass again, harder this time.

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he reaches around to grab your breasts roughly. He squeezes and kneads them as he continues to pound into you from behind. "You're going to come on my dick again, aren't you? My baby's pussy is so greedy..." He increases his pace, his hips moving like a piston as he fucks you harder and faster. He knows exactly how to hit that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. "Come on, slut. Come all over my cock again." He watches your body closely, sees your stomach tighten. He spreads your cheeks wider, going deeper as he finds that perfect rhythm. He knows you're going to come without him even touching your clit. "Goddamn... You're like a porn star..." He hits that spot again and again. He feels you squeeze around him, your pussy clenching as you come undone. He groans, his dick throbbing inside you. "Fucking hell..." He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're a shaking mess on the desk.He pulls out slowly, watching as your pussy tries to keep ahold of him. He smirks, pushing your legs open wider to see his thick, hard dick coated in your juices. "Look at that pretty little cunt all messed up by my dick." He leans down, running two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal mixed with his come. "You see this? This is what I do to you..." He holds his fingers up, then slowly licks them clean, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. "Tastes like victory..."

You were completely exhausted. He took you to the bathroom. He gave you both a warm, relaxing shower. He took the loofah and gently cleaned you. "I was too rough, I apologize. Did it hurt?" You should have known him. You smiled at him. "I'm fine, and actually... I can say that I like it better this way"

He raised his eyebrows. “Really? I.. I thought you were bad.” He looked into your eyes. There were still small traces of desire. He grinned at you. "But if you like it, then don't expect me to be softer than you, baby"

A wave of desire washed over you, seeing Sunoo like this from now on would cause butterflies to fly in your stomach. "I really like this Sunoo version but... I probably won't be able to walk again. My groin hurts," you whined to him. He smiled at you and kissed you on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you baby."

He picked you up and carried you to your bed, hugged you tightly and whispered loving words into your ear. You fell into a happy sleep with the warmth of Sunoo's body.

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traumacatholic · 18 hours ago

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I don’t believe God is love anymore. I’ve started thinking of him as some detached uncaring cosmic entity that’s going to delight in torturing me in hell if I don’t want to spend eternity doing nothing but worshipping him. Which I don’t, and I’m wondering if that makes me like a demon, because I thought their whole thing was that they didn’t want to worship God. But I’m scared to death of hell and now I’m scared of heaven too because I just don’t believe eternal happiness and contentedness is possible no matter what. I can’t fathom it, I can’t fathom existing without suffering. I’m angry that God created me just to be part of a cruel game with no good ending and I’m scared that there’s something evil in me that’s making me angry at God. I’m just so confused and angry and scared all the time I’ve ceased to be able to function in day to day life. On some level I’m aware it’s not normal to feel this way but I genuinely believe the conclusions I’ve come to are reasonable given what I’ve been told and what I’ve read.

There is a book called 'On Job: God-Talk and the Suffering of the Innocent' by Gustavo Gutiérrez that I think you would benefit from reading. Further to this, I think you should read the poem 'Dark Night of the Soul' by Saint John of the Cross and the two commentaries that he has written for that poem. Another book that would be beneficial for you is 'The Catholic Guide to Depression'.

On Job and The Catholic Guide to Depression both try to understand the meaning of pain, how there can be pain and a loving God. And I think that they both present their arguments very well in a deeply comforting way. And they both by far would do a much better way of talking about suffering than I could ever hope to do. The Dark Night of the Soul is a poem more or less about tangibly feeling the absence of God. That God has withdrawn from you. That separation from God. And what the soul goes through when it experiences it.

I think having books to read can be helpful because they can often stop our mind from spiralling into anxious circles. In order to progress through the book, we need to be focusing on the author. And when our mind wanders, we can draw ourselves back to the words of the page and for some people this can be very helpful at stopping mounting anxiety. These works should hopefully be able to offer you some fresh perspectives that you might not have come to, or that you might have heard from other people but not in a level of depth that was helpful enough to you.

Further to these works, I think it is very important that you speak to a doctor about this. As well as a Priest. Both of these people can help with your troubles, and both of these kinds of people should be consulted. If you are concerned about bringing up faith to your doctor, don't be. It is entirely normal for people to bring up in doctor's appointments how their faith is impacting them or how their mental or physical symptoms are impacting their relationship with their faith. Your doctor can work with you to address any physical or mental troubles that might be making you feel this way and your Priest can help with the spiritual side of things.

You are not a demon for being angry with God. Many great Saints have been angry with God. Have expressed frustration. Have been outraged at their circumstances. Demons are not upset about feeling angry at God, they do not feel guilty about being angry at God, they do not try to address their problems with God. Humans can not be demons. By the very fact that you are a human being, you are made in the image of God. You are a living Icon of Christ. And although sin may muddy that image at times, remember that repentance and confession washes that clean. And no matter how muddy the image might be or might feel, that does not change that you are made in the image of God.

If you were the only person on Earth at this moment in time, in the past Christ would have still chosen to be Incarnated, to suffer and to be Resurrected in order to redeem you and your relationship with God. To heal that wound that happened in the Garden of Eden. Christ suffered too. When we weep, God weeps. God freely and willingly enters into our pain, our suffering, our isolation. God went to the Cross for you. He suffered for you. Your pain and suffering is wrapped up in the mystery of the Cross. The Cross is above all a message of hope.

“How can Jesus say that those who mourn are fortunate? What does he mean? Leiva-Merikakis suggests that the disciple of Jesus who mourns is blessed because he is viewing death, the ultimate cause for sorrow, from God’s point of view. In a way, precisely on the path of mourning, he is stepping in to share God’s vision and life. The one who mourns is being faithful to a particular love and expressing the conviction that life is stronger than death and that death should not be. The mourner who perseveres in his non-acceptance of death as the ultimate reality becomes makarios — blessed. In other words, the follower of Jesus in the Beatitudes is hopeful within sorrow and grief, even if it feels like despair. He is hopeful because Jesus is there with him. The phrase “shall be comforted” literally means, “to be called to someone’s side.” The sorrowful are called close to Jesus’ side; they are not abandoned. Leiva-Merikakis comments, “God does not console us by abolishing our solitude but by entering it and sharing it.” The disciple of Christ has a hopeful sorrow because Jesus is with him. And this hopeful sorrow — this sorrow of love — is indeed a Christian virtue.” - The Catholic Guide to Depression

“On the Cross and in his agony, our Lord suffered not just our physical afflictions, but our mental anguish as well. Out of the depths we cry to him. And he reaches down into our depths to raise us up with him. God knows the depth of our suffering; he knows our fragile heart. And Christ’s own heart — a heart of flesh, a heart both human and divine — is merciful beyond measure. It is in this mercy that we place our hope.” - The Catholic Guide to Depression

“Even a cursory walk through the Gospels shows that the Lord experienced the range of human emotions, including profound sorrow and anguish of soul. This can be of great solace for those suffering depression. God is no distant figure. He enters fully into human life and redeems nature from the inside. […] These events [of suffering] in the life of Jesus take up the Old Testament themes about sorrow and anguish, expanding and concretizing them in the sorrow of the Incarnate God. Jesus willingly takes this suffering unto himself. Sorrow and mental pain is no longer something foreign to the life of Gd. The heart of the depressed person can find a connection with the profound sorrow found in the Heart of Jesus. When human suffering encounters the Sacred Heart of Christ, the result is life and hope: a withered hand is restored; an only son, a precious daughter, and a good friend are raised from he dead. Jesus points us to the future full of hope.” - The Catholic Guide to Depression

God is on your side. No matter how angry you are. No matter how scared you are. God calls you continually to Him. God does not want your suffering. He does not want your destruction. Fear of Hell, and uncertainty about Heaven can be very normal. Both are wrapped up in a fear of death. We may hate the life we are living, we may hate what events we have went through, but those things are still known to us. It is equally hard to wrap our minds and hearts around Heaven as it is to wrap our minds and hearts around Hell. But when these feelings overwhelm us, it is better to speak with a Priest. Even if we feel silly. Even if we feel that we know the answers. God does not want our despair. But the adversary that wants us to tempt us away from God, does. The adversary does not want us to bring our sufferings to God for love and comforting. He wants us to fall further away into despair and that despair leading to outright anger. Where we do not want repentance, where we do not want a relationship.

But it is important to note that even if we ever do get to that stage, God still loves us. God still calls us back. No matter how far gone you are, as long as you are still living and breathing there is hope. There is repentance. We are always called to repent and come back. Speak with your Priest, and speak with your doctor. And know always, that God loves you. There is nothing you can do to take away God's love for you. God loves you even when you don't want Him to. I will be praying for you.

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession, was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother. To thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen.

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lettertoelxse · 1 day ago

Text

"Wishes Don't Come True (Except When They Do)" — a bkdk oneshot

Katsuki doesn't really believe in birthday wishes or maybe he does… but he's greedy when he makes them either way.

Available to read on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64999198

CW: 🔞 making out, frottage

Birthdays are kinda strange.

People say they’re special but they’re mostly just weird because you do a bunch of shit that you don’t normally do.

When he's little they’re loud and filled with family members he knows well and not-so-well. Cousins and the neighborhood kids come to play. Izuku hangs the closest (that part isn’t strange at least), holds onto his arm excitedly when they bring out a cake on fucking fire. Then there’s the weirdest part.

They say to blow out the candles and make a wish. Well a wish is supposed to be something you want. So he wishes to be a hero. He’s greedy though, so he also throws that his parents got him that All Might action figure he asked for into the wish.

He’s a kid so he can’t be a hero yet, and his parents got him a different All Might figure than the one he asked for (which he still likes), but obviously wishes don’t work.

…

In middle school they’re still fucking loud, even though he fights his parents on the idea of a party.

He pushes away family members that want to pinch his cheeks and scoffs at others who complain about his crappy attitude. Some people from school come over. They just eat cake and play games.

Izuku isn’t there, but he mutters a quiet, “Happy birthday,” to him in the hall. He does it every year, long after the term ‘friend’ becomes a silly title to describe something that never existed long enough to actually be anything tangible. He doesn’t realize he’ll miss the words when they’re gone.

When they tell him to make a wish this time, he knows they're useless. Wishing will never get him anything that he could work for, and it can't bring someone something that they weren't born with. So he doesn't wish when he blows out the candles.

…

In high school it becomes the complete opposite. He spends his birthday at the beginning of what's technically his second year in the quiet of his dark room, flipping through news articles on his phone and jotting down coordinates. He doesn't even have any idea what the date is besides the red numbers on a piece of paper counting how many days it's been since Izuku left.

How many days Izuku has been on his own.

There are papers with scratchy notes of all the things he wants to say. They're crumpled and scribbled on and some divulge into mean and angry ramblings. The rain outside makes him hate this time of year. Especially when he knows there’s someone out there wandering in the cold all alone. He tugs at his hair and throws written letters at the wall. It's dreary and silent. And his birthday passes.

He wishes to find Izuku safe.

…

He thinks his third year will be the same.

He expects it to be quiet but in a different way this time. His classmates revel living in a world where they’re not waiting for something to jump out of the shadows at them. In some ways he feels the same, there’s a part of him that is grateful to be alive for another birthday. Another part of him is greedy, feels a gnawing in his gut for something more. Not for his birthday though.

His parents call him and make him promise to come home to celebrate on the weekend and that’s fine. It’s nice. He doesn’t expect a knock on his dorm room door and teary eyes that sparkle like emeralds.

Izuku blubbers a mess of sad nothings, “I didn’t want to bother you, I thought you might’ve left, I missed it last year. I’m so sorry. Happy birthday, Kacchan…”

He does his best to soothe him, but it’s not really his strong suit. All he can do is pat the other’s shoulder and try to convince him that everything’s fine. But broken words make him buckle to Izuku’s outpour of emotions.

“I’m just glad you’re still here Kacchan.”

The wetness in his own eyes catches him off guard, has him pulling Izuku to his chest. He holds Izuku close with his one arm in working condition and hugs him for the first time in who knows how fucking long, because he knows exactly how he feels. To just be grateful to have the other. “I’m glad you’re here too, Nerd.”

His birthday is quiet, but in a gentle way.

In a whispered promise between two people who have been friends—or something else that doesn’t really have a name—for their entire life. Two people who have been together for so long, it’s hard to imagine any other possibility.

He wishes that he can be good to Izuku this time.

…

He learns that birthdays can be different no matter what point of life you’re in.

His next one is loud and lively, like they were when he was a kid. His classmates make him come to a get-together now that they've graduated. They have dinner and sing to him. He finds that he actually doesn’t really mind it that much, especially when Izuku is by his side and holds onto his arm while he blows out his candles.

He doesn’t hate the idea of making a wish anymore, but he also can’t think of anything grand to ask the universe to grant to him. So he wishes to have another moment like this again.

…

The following year his birthday is on a weekday.

He makes plans to meet some friends on the weekend and to go to dinner with his parents, but he spends the day working a long patrol shift. He thinks he’ll go home and rest, and the day will come and go. Instead, when he finishes his shift and exits the agency building he finds a familiar head of fluffy green hair waiting outside.

Izuku nearly drops the bag he’s holding on the sidewalk covered with cherry blossoms when he sees him. “Kacchan, happy birthday!”

Katsuki leans close to peer in the bag. “What’re you doing here, Nerd?”

“Um well, Kirishima told me you were working. I thought you’d maybe be busy with them or something, but he said you weren’t doing anything." Izuku snaps his mouth shut mid ramble and looks at him with hopeful eyes. He says softer, "So I figured it was late and you probably didn’t have dinner yet… Or cake.” He held up the bag with a shy smile.

“Didn’t ya have classes today?”

Izuku shrugs and nods. “Well yeah, I did.”

No sense of self preservation as always, forever putting everyone else first. Katsuki sighs, “I figured you would be busy.”

“Not too busy for your birthday!”

Katsuki knows better than to argue with him on something like this (and he’s maybe a little bit happy that he came) so they go back to his small apartment together, spend most of their night eating and watching a movie. The comfort of his company is soothing. Katsuki savors it.

At some point Izuku gets up to bring him the small cake with a candle burning on the top. He laughs when Katsuki begs him to not make him sit there while he sings the entire song, but he does agree and tells him to just make a wish then.

Katsuki searches bright eyes that watch him patiently. He’s a little too far away even though there’s not much space between them on the loveseat sofa.

There are things Katsuki wants.

He wants to be a hero, wants to be a hero with Iuku, wants to own an agency alongside him, wants to finish this damn suit he’s been working on even though the end seems so far out of reach. He wants all of it and then some.

He’s greedy.

But Katsuki has plans for these things, some long and with no finish line in sight, but plans nonetheless. Hard work can get him all of them. He’s certain of it. And a wish won’t change that.

But there’s one thing that maybe he wishes for. That he longs for. He feels a little dirty asking the universe to grant it to him, but it’s the one thing in his life he’s not exactly sure how to work for. One thing that he hopes, if only a little bit, would for once just naturally sway in his favor.

So he looks into green eyes with freckles and plush lips. And he wishes.

The room is only lit by the dim lamp beside the couch. “What did you wish for, Kacchan?”

He keeps his gaze locked with the other’s. “You know the rules, I can’t tell ya.”

Izuku leans closer, with a curious glint sparking in his expression. “You think it won’t come true?”

He shrugs, honestly thinks it probably won’t either way. His hands twist together in his lap.

Scarred hands set the cake aside on the coffee table without looking away. “C’mon, please tell me? I wanna know what Kacchan wants more than anything.”

He shrinks away when Izuku presses closer. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Everyone wants something,” Izuku reasons.

Izuku leans so close that Katsuki can feel the heat from his body, and his walls crack a little. He lifts his head again to look at him. He doesn’t think he can say it out loud even if he wanted to.

Surprise washes over Izuku’s expression and then something else he can’t read.

He whispers into the small space between them with an alternative, “I’m glad you came, Izuku.”

His gaze narrows but he nods. “Me too.” His fingers brush over Katsuki’s wrist, slow and gentle. “I wanna spend more birthdays with you.”

He swallows the words rising in his throat.

Me too, more than anything.

His breath is warm when he leans closer still, other hand sliding over Katsuki’s shoulder. “What do you want, Kacchan?”

He threads his fingers into the front of Izuku’s university sweatshirt and tugs him a smidge closer.

You. You. You.

Fuck he wants—no needs—Izuku more than he needs air to breathe right now. (He's pretty sure he's not getting oxygen anyway.)

Izuku moves like he can read his mind, inches closer until their chests touch as he pushes Katsuki back against the couch.

The sound that escapes from his throat is way closer to a whine than he'd like to admit, but Izuku basks in it, a smile playing on his lips. “Can I grant your wish, Kacchan?”

His voice is small, not certain that he really wants Izuku to hear it. “Please.”

He does hear him though, and it's all the confirmation he needs. Izuku closes the distance between them to press their lips together. It's soft and sweet like the icing on the forgotten cake.

It's gentle and exciting like small hands on his arm while singing happy birthday. It's like a promise to show up every year, every day no matter what happens. It's like relief to know Izuku is here with him and not anywhere else. It's comforting and safe like being enveloped in a long overdue embrace.

It's hopeful and exciting because he wants this, wants Izuku to stay close and keep being by his side. And after all these years Izuku wants to be close to him too.

It’s like coming home.

His lips move against Katsuki's like silk. They touch and brush against every inch of them like he's tracing the shape and curves and making a permanent imprint of them. Katsuki chases them when they stray too far to the corner of his mouth or when the touch becomes too featherlight, unwilling to let go of this feeling.

His heart flutters like strong beating wings in chest at the closeness and the absurdity that this is all really happening.

When Izuku moves above him, his body is pliant, just for him. He shifts to straddle Katsuki with his knees on either side of his hips and hands gripping his waist—adjusts him so they both fit. He still clings to the front of Izuku's shirt to make sure their lips stay together. He nips and pulls when he tries to separate for a moment. There’s a soft, amused huff against Katsuki's lips once he’s situated, then he licks once. Twice.

Katsuki meets him the third time with parted lips and a twisting pull at his shirt to get him closer. Like the sweetheart he is, Izuku complies, explores and tastes Katsuki like he might disappear if he doesn't do it right this second.

And he moves in closer, closer, closer.

Katsuki gasps when Izuku's hips press to his own. A piece of the puzzle he didn't really realize was missing. His heart hammers in his chest like it means to break through his ribs. It feels like a lot. Izuku covers every inch of him like waves crashing over his body in the ocean. Sparks crack on his palms without warning.

He retreats his hands from the front of Izuku top with a fearful coil in his gut, but Izuku only laughs breathily against his lips, thinks it's a lighthearted threat instead of an involuntary reaction.

He looks so good, so hot, with his eyes half lidded and a string of spit connecting their lips. From the way Izuku's eyes search his face, he thinks he must look as dazed as he feels. “Kacchan is so pretty.”

He doesn't get to voice his surprise because Izuku kisses him again like his life depends on it, tongue pressing to his and teeth biting at his lips. His hands are still held limply in the space between them. A warning to Izuku sits unsaid in his throat, so he just clenches them into fists, but he doesn't expect the drag of Izuku rolling his hips down against him, slow and purposeful.

His breath stutters and his hips buck forward to press closer. There's sparks popping in his closed palms but it feels like his whole body is going to ignite from the way his ribs creak and give into the pressure from his heart.

Beep.

Izuku's entire body freezes at the familiar notification sound for Katsuki's heart alarm. His eyes are wide in shock when he grabs the forgotten phone on the table urgently.

“Izuku.”

There's already tears brimming in green eyes as he looks at the notification. Katsuki is certain that it's a heart rate warning, which isn't really that big of a deal. At least not anymore, not like when it was imperative for him to keep his heart steady until he was fully recovered. It always freaked Izuku out though, especially when he was the one reminding Katsuki to calm down when he got too worked up.

“Hey, I'm fine.”

His fingers grip the phone tighter, not listening.

Katsuki grabs Izuku's wrist holding the phone to get his attention. “Come back, please.”

Finally green eyes lift to meet his again and it only takes a moment before relief covers his features. He looks over Katsuki’s face and then his hands, watches the rise and fall of his chest. A realization dawns on him. “I did this to you.”

He's is ready to assure him that he did nothing wrong until he catches the smirk pulling at Izuku’s lips.

“I make Kacchan’s heart race,” there’s a teasing mock to his tone.

He presses his palm to his eyes. “On second thought, you can go.”

Izuku whines, “No…” There’s a pause before he speaks a little more seriously, sincere. “What did you really wish for?”

Katsuki risks a peek at him through his fingers. “What do you mean?”

“When you blew out your candle.”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose. “You, Nerd. Where the hell have you been for the last seven minutes?”

Izuku blinks like he wasn’t expecting that. “I just didn’t think that was really… You couldn’t think of something more—I dunno.”

“It’s the only thing I don’t know how to work for.” He has to avert his gaze when he forces out the truth.

A chaste kiss presses to his lips suddenly and Izuku whispers against them, “That’s because I’m already yours. Always have been.”

His throat is too tight to form any coherent words.

“I guess that means you wasted your wish.

What an absurd thought, an awful notion to even consider.

Fingers card through Izuku’s hair and slide to the back of his neck to tug him closer into another soft kiss. “Never. I’ll keep wishing for this for the rest of my life if I have to.”

“Hm. This.” Izuku presses his lips to Katsuki’s and then to his jaw, cheek, temple, nose, peppering kisses all over his face. He only pulls back when Katsuki gets antsy and shakes his head a little to stop him.

They’re silent for a long moment, just rejoicing in each other. The warmth shared between them. All the moments, good and bad, that led to this one. The way the world seems to have spun for how ever many fucking billions of years, just so they could be together right now.

The feeling swells to something overwhelming in Katsuki. He has to say it or it’ll rip him open by force to lay the truth bare. The silence is broken, “I love you, Izuku.”

Tears finally fall from green eyes that have been shimmering in the dull light. Always such a fucking cry baby. But Katsuki’s vision blurs as Izuku cups his cheek and whispers a vow back to him, “I love you so much.” He wipes at the wet falling on Katsuki’s cheek with the back of his hand and then kisses it like he’s going to make the pain of a wound go away. “Happy birthday, Kacchan.”

He’s so happy and feels so content beneath Izuku’s gentle loving touches.

But he’s greedy.

He leans up to kiss one of Izuku’s tears away and he makes another wish on it. It’s not a birthday candle but he knows it’s at least twice as special. So he asks whatever wish granter apparently exists out there to grant him one more. Just this once.

He wishes for every birthday to feel like this for the rest of his life. To have the most special person in the world’s eyes on only him. To feel loved. To feel like coming home.

Because maybe wishes come true sometimes.

#my works #dkbk #bkdk #bkdk fic #fanfic #bakudeku #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #mha #oneshot #bkdk fanfic #ao3 fanfic #izuku never misses another birthday again

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