#I WANT TO READ THIS FIC AGAIN SO BADLY 🥺

[mrsbrandoxxx]

I need some help finding this Bakugou x reader fic that I read a few years ago. All i remember from the fic is that we are married to Bakugou and we have 2 kids, and the reader has to pick them up from school because Bakugou had called in to work and when she arrived at school all the kids were trapped in the school bus because of a villain attack or smthg

[shellshocklove]

just crazy love | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: joel had hurt you badly, but can you forgive him?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), mentions and drinking of alcohol, misogyny (bc of the times™), readers uncle is a character in this but his name is not mentioned and there's no description of looks, angst, swearing, use of pet names, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), praise kink, some size kink (pornstar!joel has a big dick), soft!dom joel, no use of y/n

a/n: this is part three and the last part to my little 70s!pornstar!joel mini-series. i'm overwhelmed by the love i got on the previous part. i honestly thought everyone had forgotten about the orginal one shot as it had been so long 💀 i really appreciate all of you who's left a comment, reply or sent me an ask! makes my heart all mushy 🥺 thank you to @dustydaddyyy for all the help and for reading through it! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

On the way home from set, Joel started to think he’d fucked up.

You were so quiet, quieter than you usually were, and it made him worried. After wrapping his scene with Cheryl, he’d immediately looked for you, but your place in the corner where you’d stood watching was empty. He’d noticed you slip out during his scene but thought nothing of it as he knew being on set wasn’t your favorite, but then you came back, and Joel had found it hard to conceal his happiness behind his acting.

His head had been filled with memories and fantasies, memories and fantasies of you. The look you’d get in your eyes when he kissed you, blown out and wide. The feel of your soft hand wrapped around him this morning, the feel of your wet pussy tight around his cock. The sweet taste of you on his tongue. Shit. You were intoxicating. Joel couldn’t get you out of his head– and he didn’t want to try either. One look at you and those pretty eyes, and he came harder during a scene than he can remember ever doing – no need to fake any groans or moans.

It had been a long time since Joel had felt something so strongly for another woman. It must’ve been his high school sweetheart, he thought, that first teenage love, that all-consuming love that made that one special girl feel like the most important person in the world. And sure, after he moved to LA he’d dated, had a couple of girlfriends, but it never went anywhere, and his job, his job always made it complicated. Joel didn’t want complicated– so he stopped dating and got his fill of human touch through his work instead. It made his life easy, but then he’d seen you at the bar by yourself at Tommy’s club, and Joel didn’t want easy anymore.

Joel was a charming man; those southern manners had gotten him far in life, and especially with the ladies – it was no secret. And maybe he’d turned it up a few notches that night, he could admit that – hoping it would hook you in. He’d almost gone against his own rule. The rule he’d set for himself after one particularly nasty break-up a few years back: his rule of no sex outside work. He’d told himself he was protecting himself– protecting himself from getting involved into something complicated again, from getting hurt, or hurting someone he cared for. But then he’d met you, danced with you, talked to you, and Joel didn’t care about protecting himself anymore.

You weren’t someone to take home at the end of the night for a quick fuck. You were so sweet, and shy, he couldn’t help but want to get to know you better. Learn what made you smile, what books you liked, what music you listened to, but also what noises you made when you fell apart. In that dark dingy club, Joel had realized how special you were.

Maybe it was stupid what he did? He could’ve gotten your number a number of ways, but the alcohol was talking and suddenly he was offering you a job before really thinking it through – but at least he had a reason to see you again.

You were a good assistant, and he appreciated the work you did for him, his life had gotten much easier after hiring you. But you were so professional, and what Joel wanted to do to you was unprofessional. You kept on top of his schedule, took his phone calls, scheduled meetings, predicted what he needed before he even knew he wanted it. You were nothing short of a great assistant, but the more he worked with you it was clear that there were things about his job you weren’t as comfortable with – and Joel couldn’t blame you. From the outside his job was unusual, and fucking on camera wasn’t for everybody, but Joel had come to know – it especially wasn’t for you.

A couple of months in, Joel had started to think you were a virgin. At first, he thought it was just your steadfast professionalism, but your reactions to what he considered normal things in his line of work, made him wonder. Not that there was anything wrong with you being a virgin, he just couldn’t understand how anyone could look at you and not want you to be theirs. And maybe it was wrong, but it turned him on a little too, something possessive deep inside loving the thought of you being his, and only his.

He wanted you, wanted you to be his, and the more he got to know you, the more he had to fight to hold back his growing feelings. Joel could hide behind his personality, hide behind the way he loved to flirt, loving the way you squirmed from his compliments– from his teasing. It was cute, it was so goddamn cute, but it didn’t fix the ache he had inside only you could sooth.

After Pismo Beach, Joel knew he was fucked. In the car on the way back to LA he’d had trouble watching anything except your face; the beautiful glimmering sea you drove along might as well have been an oily puddle for all he cared. Nothing was sweeter than watching you hum along to the Joni Mitchell cassette you played on repeat. Joni’s mezzo-soprano clung in his ear like a warning. Yes, help me, he was falling in love too fast, but damn if it didn’t feel good.

Now a different song filled the space of his car, as he drove you home. Crosby, Stills & Nash’s melodic guitar picking hummed a low tune, their three-part harmonies flowing from his car speakers.

“Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams, he worries.”

So yeah, Joel was worried. That rosy hue that had been tinting his world when he looked at you, had now faded to a drab dirty pink. You didn’t even look at him, and hadn’t muttered as much as a word to him since he found you in his trailer – where you’d been flicking through his papers from the meeting – after the scene ended.

“’s everythin’ alright?” Joel spoke across the silence that had grown between you.

You didn’t move your head from where it rested against the window; your face bathed in red from the sea of brake lights on the freeway. You weren’t moving much, so Joel allowed himself a good look at you. He watched the way your body curled in on itself in the seat, your fingers picking at your nailbeds – it made him pull his brows in a tight frown.

“Did he hear a goodbye, or even hello?”

With a brave hand he reached out to touch you, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek. “Hey,” he said, “did ya hear me, my sweet girl?”

“They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.”

You pulled away from his touch immediately, shifting in your seat, and Joel felt his heart sink in his chest. “I’m fine,” you muttered, an unfamiliar sting in your voice.

A loud honk behind him released Joel from the shock from your tone, and his hand that had been previously dancing along your delicate skin, fell to the gear stick. Releasing the clutch slowly, Joel’s car rolled forward, following the slug traffic. You clearly weren’t fine.

“Stand by the stairway, you’ll see something certain to tell you, confusion has its cost.”

Joel let the music fill the space while you stayed quiet, a bubbling panic settling in his chest as the day played on repeat in his head. Everything had been so great earlier, until it wasn’t. He’d seen it in you after the meeting. Joel knew he should’ve said something, and he’d simmered with it all throughout the meeting, but Joel also knew better than to speak against Ronald in a setting like that.

Ronald was the best thing that had happened to Joel’s career. He was a big name in the porn industry, only managing the very best in the game. Eight years had passed since Ronald had discovered Joel.

It had been the summer of ‘67, his first year in LA already in the rear view. He’d come with a guitar case and a dream of making something of himself. Joel had chased that dream around in circles, and a year into it, he’d been free falling towards rock bottom. The gigs he’d dreamt would line up as soon as his feet touched the hot Californian sand, never came, and had it not been for Tommy, who’d made the move with him, he’d be homeless.

The whole exchange had been bizarre. Tommy was working as a busboy at a club on The Strip at the time, and as an employee, Tommy got a discount at the bar. Joel knew how to take advantage of his little brother’s benefits, and occupied a seat at the bar every weekend where he drank almost free booze, and flirted himself to a one night stand, or two, or three.

He’d sat by the bar one Saturday like usual when a man sat down in the seat next to him. Joel paid him no mind at first, continuing to smoke his cigarette and enjoy his whiskey. Then the man had started talking to him, asking if he knew this girl he’d slept with last week. He was about to deny ever having talked to someone matching this girl’s description, concerned that this man was a husband or a crazy ex-boyfriend of some sort, when the man started telling him that she dabbled in porn. Nothing crazy, just some nude photoshoots here and there, but she’d told him all about Joel and his impressive package.

Joel was about to tell the man to go fuck himself – the conversation twisting into something way too weird for Joel to navigate – when the man, Ronald, had offered to manage him. 

Sure, Joel was gifted, blessed, some might even say, but it had sounded too good to be true: getting paid the big bucks for just having sex? At the time, it had sounded like every man’s pipe dream but now, Joel owed Ronald everything.

If the movie deal with VCA went through, Joel’d owe him even more. It was a miracle he was this sought after in the first place. The top consumers of porn, Joel knew, and he supposed the entire porn industry knew, were predominantly men looking for big boobs and a willing woman, neither of which he was. But the tide was turning with the rise of the women’s movement, and Ronald had thrown his net into the pool of opportunity at the exact right moment.

The cynical part of Joel told him it paid his bills – he’d been so desperate in that club – but now, now he was living large as his popularity had continued to grow, and grow, and grow. He’d paved his path towards success, towards the success he’d dreamed about those eighth years ago. And sure, it felt good to be sought after and desired by women everywhere, but if he was being honest, the only woman he wanted to be desired by in this moment, was you.

He loved your gentle nature, that shy, almost timid, way you looked at him. No one had looked at him like that before. It felt so much more real, but it was like something was always holding you back, like you could never allow yourself to just be, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Joel recognized that feeling, he did. He was from the south after all, and as far as his family was concerned, Joel was a sinner. That guilt they instilled in him– he’d sat with that a long time, years spent learning not to hate himself for the choices he’d made, unlearning years of shame. To not feel guilty about his desires, to embrace all that life had to offer with open arms, to dream, to eat until he was full and still have room for dessert.

“Love isn’t lying, it’s loose in a lady who lingers.”

Clearing his throat, Joel spoke again, “Somethin’ ‘s clearly wrong, sweet girl.”

“Please don’t call me that,” you sighed, voice strained like you were close to crying. The broken sound of you shattered something inside him.

“Saying she is lost, and choking on hello.”

Finally, the traffic picked up its pace, and Joel changed gear, gaining speed for the first time since you got on the freeway.  

“My sweet girl?” he asked, “I thought you liked that?”

Crosby, Stills & Nash sang their last lines, before the song faded into some disco song Joel had never heard before. It was loud and obnoxious, and your answer drowned in the beat. Joel’s hand was on the volume button in less than a second, turning it down.

“I didn’t,” you repeated in a whisper, “I don’t.”

You shifted your body closer to the door, and Joel knew he had to do something to make you feel better.

“How about…” he started, his hand shifting from the gear stick to land on the thick of your thigh, “I’ll drive us back to my place, and we’ll pick up where we left of this mornin’, huh? Would that make ya feel better?”

You crossed your leg over the other, making his hand slip from your thigh. “I’m too tired, Joel– it’s been a long day… and I didn’t get enough sleep,” you sighed, eyes closed and defeated.

“You sure? Swe–” Joel cut himself off before he could say it, the sweetness turning bitter on his tongue.

You didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, didn’t let him touch you. Something tightened in his chest. You were slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Maybe this wasn’t about the meeting after all?

“’s this about Cheryl?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, to conceal the panic bubbling in his throat. “’s just for work– was just actin’.”

You took a deep breath, and held it before you spoke, like you were practicing what to say before you said it. “It’s fine, Joel– I’m not your girlfriend.”

Not his girlfriend. Not his. Never his.

This time he couldn’t look at you, his hand gripping tightly around the steering wheel as he glimpsed your apartment complex down at the next turn.

“I thought–” Shit. A breathless chuckle devoid of any joy left him. He was speechless. 

Pulling into the parking lot next to your car, Joel didn’t know what to do. He watched you gather your things, while the heaviness in his chest grew.

Was it over before it had even begun?

“I’m…” you drew a shaky breath, “I’ll see you at work.”

And then you were gone, slipping out the door and leaving Joel alone in the swollen silence of your absence. His heart hammered in his chest, his breathing growing shallower as he watched you hurry across the parking lot in the rear-view mirror.

Move you fucking idiot– run after her, his brain told him, but he couldn’t move an inch. Shit. Shit. Shit. His chest tightened, and tightened, his fingers clawing at the rough fabric of his jeans as he started gasping for air. He’d wanted you for so long, and now you were gone. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? With shaky hands he managed to roll down the window, the fresh evening air filled his lungs as he tried his best to calm down.

Joel had fucked up.

When Thursday rolled around, and Joel still hadn’t heard from you, he started to wonder if it was excessive to file a missing persons report. He’d tried to call you multiple times since Monday, but your phone was always off the hook. The hollow beeping of the busy signal doing nothing to calm the panic building in him since Monday.

He’d been so stupid, and he’d cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Embarrassment suffocating him at the fact that it hadn’t settled in until Ronald had shown him the first rough cut of his chemistry test with Cheryl yesterday.

It had been Cheryl’s idea, the whole innocence thing. She’d pitched it to him after the meeting ended, telling him how excited she was for this opportunity, and how much she was looking forward to finally filming later. Joel had played along; he was at work after all – it was his job. So, he turned on the charm, tested the chemistry waters, and agreed. She was new to the industry and young, it made sense.

What didn’t make sense was what he’d called her. Sweet girl. He’d called Cheryl that multiple times without even realizing it – too lost in his thoughts of you, and how he wished it was you with your lips wrapped around him.

Joel was fucking stupid.

He’d convinced you to watch him get a blowjob from another woman right after you’d confessed to never having given head before. He knew you were inexperienced, but that had never mattered to him. Joel thought it was kinda nice to explore sex with you – to find out what you liked, and what you didn’t. It made it exciting again – it wasn’t just work. But hearing himself praise Cheryl for making him feel good was the last straw for him – he needed to apologize to you.

How he wished he’d been able to convince you to stay in bed that morning– to forget about the stupid fucking meeting. Finally, he’d had you. Finally, he could kiss you, and hold you, and make you feel good. The sweetness of you, of having had you, now bitter as he realized he’d probably never get that back.

Wiping a sweaty palm on his jeans, he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for someone to buzz him into your apartment complex. He knew he shouldn’t be here, he could get you in trouble, but he needed to see you, to talk to you face to face.

“Hello?” a static voice croaked through the busted speakers of the rusting door buzzer.

“Pizza delivery,” Joel answered, and not a second later the door buzzed.

Trudging up the stairs the words he’d rehearsed played on a loop in his head: He know you probably don’t want to see him ever again, but he needed to apologize for what happened on Monday. He never meant to hurt you the way he did. He understands he was never your boyfriend, but that was what he wanted to be, and he’s sorry for the way he acted.

Stopping outside your apartment door he drew in a deep breath before he knocked. It felt like he stood there for hours waiting while nothing happened. That worry he’d felt for days now tugging harder at his neck. Joel knocked again, a little harder with the shout of your name, and added ‘It’s Joel’ for good measure. Again, nothing. When he repeated the action a third time, the door to the neighboring apartment flew open.

“She’s not home,” your neighbor told him, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She was dressed in a formless paisley patterned dress, hair thrown back in a low ponytail as she bounced a crying baby in her arms. When Joel’s eyes landed on the little girl in her arms, she told him, “You woke her up with all that banging.”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” he said earnestly, “I never meant to–” The baby screamed louder, face red from exertion.

“Sure, you didn’t,” she scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. She bounced her daughter, shifting her hold to hike her up over her shoulder, hand tap tapping at her back as she started to bounce her.

Sliding his hands into his jean pockets, Joel didn’t know what to do. Awkwardly he cleared his throat, tilting his head towards your door. “D’you–” Joel started, before your neighbor cut him off.

“No, but I saw her getting picked up by an older man about an hour ago.” Something about the judgement in her tone didn’t sit right with Joel.

He nodded at the information. Your uncle. Joel remembered now. Your uncle was coming to visit – taking you to dinner. What had you said on the phone again? An Italian place in Santa Monica?

Pulling his car keys from his pocket, he thanked your neighbor – making sure to apologize once again for the ruckus, before he hurried back down the stairs. He walked with long steps towards his car. The sun was setting on LA, turning the clouds and the city pink, but he paid the beautiful sight no mind, his eyes set on the Italian restaurant in Santa Monica where he knew Deborah worked.

“Well would you look at what the cat dragged in.”

Joel turned his head towards the source of the familiar voice, only to find himself eye to eye with Deborah, and her raised eyebrow.

The air smelled like garlic and basil, and the restaurant hummed with conversation over the sound of Dean Martin. She was adorning the restaurant’s waiter uniform, a short red dress over a white collared shirt, while balancing a tower of dirty plates in her hands. He almost didn’t recognize her, she looked so different from how he was used to seeing her – all dolled up at Tommy’s club.

“Deborah,” he acknowledged with a nod, plastering a polite smile on his face.

“Don’t you ‘Deborah’ me, Miller,” she told him with a scoff, placing the tower of dishes down on an empty table before crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m lookin’ for–”

“I bet you are,” Deborah replied, raising an unimpressed brow, “She ain’t here.”

Joel sighed, his face pulling into a defeated smile. “I know she’s with her uncle, Deborah. She told me she was takin’ him to an Italian restaurant in Santa Monica– As far as I’m concerned, that’s this place.”

Deborah shrugged nonchalantly, and Joel felt himself start to get annoyed. “Sorry, haven’t seen her in months.”

“Deb,” Joel let out through an exasperated sigh, a hand coming up to rub his eye, “Listen, I–... I just came to apologize, okay? I did somethin’ stupid that I shouldn’t have, and I need to apologize to her f’it.”

Deborah scoffed at Joel’s words, shaking her head with a bitter smile. “I bet you did something stupid... always the same thing with you Millers, hm? You always do first and think later.”

Confused, Deborah’s tone made Joel raise a single eyebrow, “Sure we still talkin’ about me?”

He hadn’t heard much from Tommy about what had gone on between him and Deborah, but he knew it hadn’t been very pretty. Tommy had just broken up Maria for the umpteenth time when they’d started going around. It was never going to last, Joel knew it the second he’d met Deb. Tommy always came back to Maria somehow, it didn’t matter how badly it had ended – like an endless figure eight they’d always meet again in the middle.

“Potato, potahto,” she said with a falsely sweet smile.

“Look, I ain’t my brother, okay? Never have been, never will be. Now I ain’t got a clue what went down between the two of you, and I’m damn near sure he deserves all the rage you’ve got to throw at ‘him, but it ain’t my business to sort out, so don’t go makin’ it my business...”

Deb tightened her arms over her chest, green eyes glaring at him, still, Joel could see a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes, too. “Apologize for what? You dock her pay or something?”

“No,” Joel let out with an annoyed breath.

“So what, you fired her?”

“No, Deb,” Joel said again, his voice heavy with exasperation.

Deborah quieted down for a second as she scrutinized him, her eyes boring into him. Then, her eyes cleared, and she shook her head.

“You got handsy, didn’t you?” she asked eventually, raising a questioning eyebrow. Joel couldn’t hide the guilt on his face, it told her all she needed to know. Her hands fell to her sides, “Jesus Christ, Miller... don’t you get laid enough at work?”

“Look, it ain’t like that,” he said, shaking his head as he felt his cheeks heat up, which only embarrassed him more.

Joel Miller doesn’t blush.

When Deb crossed her arms again, expression expectant as she looked silently at him, Joel sighed. “Deb… I really like her– and I know ya’ll are friends, and you want to protect her, but you gotta give me a fair shot, too... I never meant to hurt her, but I did, and if I have to spend the rest of my life apologizin’ to her every single day then that’s what I’mma do, but I promise you, you’re going to get sick of me real quick.”

There was a moment of silence in which the two of them looked at each other, before Deb raised a finger to point at Joel, taking a step forward.

“You listen here, Miller,” she said, wagging it under his nose, “Just this once, I’m going to be nice to you, for old times’ sake... but if I so much as hear a squeak from her you’re acting like a bastard, then you bet your ass I’m coming the hell after you.”

Joel nodded slowly, pulling in a deep breath through his nose as he pursed his lips.

“Anythin’ else?” he asked, raising a semi-impressed eyebrow, but Deborah only scoffed at his tone, poking him in the chest a final time.

“Yeah, tell your brother to stop calling,” she said, looking up at him, before nodding towards the back of the restaurant, “Unlike her, I don’t give second chances.”

“I’ll pass it on,” Joel said with a nod, but his voice was already absent as he finally spotted your familiar shape sitting in a booth at the very back of the restaurant.

Twirling your fork absentmindedly through your spaghetti, you listened to your uncle yap on and on about the boys at the garage, and the car he’d just driven down here.

“It’s a beaut,” your uncle said through a mouthful of his own pasta, “1971 C3 model, nice dark green color Ralphie repainted. You know I’m not a convertible guy myself, can’t give up my truck, but I could see myself in one of them cars out here– apparently, it’s being sold to some high-profile actor or something.”

“Really?” you asked, trying to steer this never-ending one-sided conversation towards something somewhat interesting.

“Yeah, you know I don’t keep up with them celebrities, but I’m pretty sure I was talking to the client’s manager on the phone.”

You nodded, letting your fork fall to take a sip of your water. Your uncle hadn’t let you order yourself a glass of wine, the impression that you were still that innocent little girl you were back when you worked in his garage shop hard to shake. Your uncle, on the other hand, nursed his beer.

“That’s exciting,” you said with a small smile.

“Oh yeah, we’ve got this bet going at the shop about who it is–” Your uncle cut himself off as a broad figure approached your table. Looking up from your plate your breath hitched when you saw the man before you.

“Joel?” His name fell from your lips before you had time to think, your brows pulling together in confusion, before something tugged at the hurt in your heart. What was he doing here?

“Hi, sweetheart.” His face wore a quiet smile, eyes scanning over your form.

“W-what are you doing here?” you stuttered out, a panic racing in your chest while a lump formed in your throat. You couldn’t do this here, especially not in front of your uncle.

“I was in the neighborhood– saw y’all through the window and wanted to…” he trailed off, finally noticing your uncle. “Sorry, sir,” he reached out his hand to your uncle in a greeting, “Joel Miller, I’m–”

“Joel’s an actor,” you cut him off, “he starred in one of Mr. Cooper’s commercials a few months ago,” you lied.

You could see the kink in Joel brow at your lie, that quiet surprise he then played off with a charming smile. “Yeah, that’s right– a beer commercial, wasn’t it?” He looked at you with one eyebrow raised. Biting down on your lip you confirmed the lie with a nod.

“You do look a little familiar,” you uncle said, dragging the words out like he’s pulling them from his memory, “they show your commercial on the TV?”

“Oh, I haven’t been payin’ attention, but somethin’ like that,” Joel shrugged, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his tight Levis, his signature western belt buckle glinting in the low light. “Y’all mind if I join y’all for a drink?”

“Not at all,” your uncle smiled before you could say anything. Joel lifted his hand to get Deborah’s attention to order himself a beer, before he squeezed himself into the booth next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he got comfortable.

Having lost your appetite, you shifted your plate to the side to make room for Joel. It was a tight squeeze in the booth, the warmth of his body flooding your senses, the familiar scent of cigarettes and of his cologne making your heart ache.

How could you miss him, and hate him all at the same time?

Deborah served Joel his drink quickly, checking in at your table at the same time. Her eyes were focused on you as she cleared the table, asking you a silent ‘You okay?’ which you quickly nodded at. You knew she’d make up some crazy excuse to get you out of any situation, but you didn’t know if you could handle it if she did. It was easier to just suffer through. You’d suffered enough this past week; you could handle another hour.

The days since you’d seen Joel last had been spent between your bed and your couch. Unfocused eyes rolling over reruns as you let a blanket of numbness fall over you as the hours passed you by. You felt so tired, that kind of tired that sits in your stomach, heavy and pulling you down, every step a drag and every breath a strain. You’d isolated yourself for days, hadn’t showered for days, you were too tired to do it, and what did it matter anyway?

You’d tried to cry, but you couldn’t make the tears fall. You wanted the release, and to feel sorry for yourself, but nothing came. And what good would it do? Nothing. You were nothing. Nothing to yourself, nothing to Joel, and nothing to this lonely city. Just some small-town girl who thought she could change who she was, who she was always destined to be.

After two whole days on your couch, you had to get up, you had no choice. You wanted to cancel, to tell your uncle that you’d come down with the flu, but you knew he was driving all day, and you wouldn’t have a clue where to call to reach him. So, you’d sat up, ate a piece of bread, and had a shower. Every minute you tried to not think of Joel, tried to not think about the way he’d kissed you hello in your hallway, the way he'd held you through the night as you slept soundly in his arms, how his gaze had felt over your features on your way back from Pismo Beach – it was all too much. Every nice memory ruined by the way his voice had echoed ‘Sweet girl’ to Cheryl.

Sweet girl. Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that. My sweet girl.

How stupid you’d felt hearing those words. You’d fooled yourself into thinking there was something more between you and Joel. You weren’t special, and that was the worst part, because he’d made you feel special. He’d made you feel desired– like he actually liked you. Or maybe that’s what hurt the most – to realize that to him you were just one girl among many.

You’d placed your phone back on the hook in the afternoon, anticipating your uncle’s call, and when it rang, you were relieved to hear his familiar voice down the line. It was all so complicated. The relief a strange mix with the suffocating memories of home. You were different now than when you worked at his shop. Still shy, but still different, more grown up and more independent. He didn’t know you anymore. No one knew you anymore– well except for one person.

You’d felt free with Joel– even before, when he was just your boss. He’d challenged you, made you come out of your shell, challenged your shame, and challenged your guilt. And watching Joel small talk with your uncle, you started to wonder if that was the reason why it had hit you so hard? Joel had let you be yourself, while still challenging you. He’d let you be shy, while still feeling sexy. He’d made you feel seen, until you’d been forgotten.

“You guys will have to excuse me, I need to take a leak,” your uncle said, pulling you from your thoughts, and getting up from his seat.

With his glass raised to his lips, Joel only gave him a short nod as he watched him walk away from your table. When your uncle was out of earshot, Joel dropped the act, shoulders relaxing as he gently placed his beer on the red and white gingham.

His face looked tired, eyes sparkling with melancholy. “I’m sorry for showin’ up here all unannounced,” he started, fingertips tapping lightly over the cloth, “you weren’t pickin’ up your phone and I need to talk to you.”

The lump on your throat grew larger as you tried to swallow around it, lost for words. “F-for what?” you said, voice hoarse and not louder than a whisper.

“I think we both know for what,” he sighed, “I fucked it up with you– never should’ve said those things to Cheryl– even if it was just actin’. I got so caught up in you, I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was too late, and I’m sorry.”

“I-I, J-Joel,” you stuttered, brows pulling together tightly as you searched for your words.

“You don’t need to say nothin’ right now, but I wanna drive you home ‘f that’s okay? Wanna have a proper talk with you.”

His hand was shaking as he placed it gently on your shoulder, the touch making your eyes fall shut as a hitching breath escaped you.

“Joel,” you whispered.

“Please,” his hand moved gently up your neck to cup your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending goosebumps down your spine. “Please, I need to explain myself.” His voice sounded pained and full of sorrow. “I’m beggin’ you, sweetheart.”

You opened your eyes slowly, breath shaky as you tried to hold back the tears pressing behind your eyes. His whole face shifted when you met his eyes, melancholy turning to worry, his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as he shifted closer.

“Hey,” he said it so softly, “Sweet girl, sweet sweet girl, please don’t cry.” His forehead fell against yours, his mustache tickling your skin as he pressed ‘I’m sorry’ into it.

“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out against your better judgment.

Joel lifted his head, brown warm eyes finding yours as his thumbs rubbed gently into your skin, “Yeah?”

Behind Joel, you noticed your uncle exit the men’s room, and you jerked out of Joel’s hold. His brows tightened together in a confused frown before you gave him a short nod in the direction of your uncle. Joel gathered his hands in his lap, his eyes tracing your uncle as he squeezed back into his seat. He gave Joel a look you couldn’t decipher, jaw locked tight and eyes piercing, before he turned to you with a plastered smile.

“Alright, what do you say, sweetie? You want some dessert?”

Your eyes flicked quickly from your uncle to Joel, and then back again, “No, I think I’m too full, and um… it’s getting late.”

Your uncle hummed, “Yeah, been a long day for sure.” Shifting in his seat your uncle fished his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s see if we can get a hold of that pretty friend of yours,” he said, turning his head to search for Deborah.

As he got her attention, Joel fished his pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his shirt. He lit himself a cigarette as you watched your uncle hold up his wallet and point. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel, watching the way his lips pursed around the cigarette as he inhaled.

“I think I’m also gonna use the restroom before we leave,” you peeped, getting to your feet before anyone could say anything. You felt Joel’s hands graze the back of your legs as you squeezed past him. The touch quick but gentle, but still leaving a burn of longing either way.

Pushing open the door to the restroom you took a deep breath. Joel was here. Joel was here and he wanted to apologize. Pacing to the end of the room, you discreetly dropped your head to check the stalls. No one. Good. Leaning your weight over the stone sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

What were you doing? One touch from Joel and you fall apart?

You released a breathless laugh and shook your head at yourself; you were in over your head, but at the same time a bubble of relief sat in your throat. He was here after all, he wanted to explain himself, and you knew that deep down you wanted to hear it.   

When you made your way back to the table, something in the air had changed. “There she is,” your uncle said, gathering his jacket, “Ready to go?”

“Um…” You looked to Joel, but something about him looked different. His shoulders looked tense, the cigarette pinched between his fingers were close to burning out, but it was his face when he looked at you that made you worried. The previous tenderness gone, replaced by a clenched jaw and eyes that wouldn’t meet yours.

“Actually, Joel said–”

He cut you off, “I’m gonna stay for another drink…”

His words dropped to the pit your stomach where they weighed you down, your feet frozen to the tiled floor. When Joel still didn’t look at you as he handed you your jacket and purse, you knew something was clearly wrong. Beside you your uncle crowded your space. His hand landed on your shoulder where it rubbed harshly into your skin, almost possessive as his eyes locked on Joel in a way that said, ‘good man’.

“I’ll drive you home, sweetie.”

With a hand resting at your back, your uncle guided you out the restaurant without as much as a mutter of goodbye to Joel. You looked back at him, not once but twice, but he still didn’t look at you – his eyes were glued to the foam of his beer as you vanished out the door.

Back inside your uncle’s rental car you were quiet, sitting with your thoughts as they swirled around your head. You’d been so close to believing Joel; that he was actually sorry, that he wanted to apologize. But once again you’d been a fool. Leaning your head against the window you felt so silly– silly for getting your hopes up.

“I– uh,” your uncle cleared his throat, “That Joel back there, sweetie, he’s not who he says he is.”

Lifting your head you turned to your uncle with a frown, “I don’t–”

Your uncle cut you off, “I don’t want to be telling you this– lord knows I don’t want your aunt knowing about this but…”

You watched how your uncle’s grip tightened around the steering wheel, his nervousness infecting you. What was he talking about?

“But what?” Your voice rose an octave, as you let out a nervous breath.

“Joel does porn,” your uncle revealed. He said it all dramatic, like he was in a movie and this scene was the turning point for your character. You had to restrain yourself to hide the laugh tickling your throat as he continued, “I thought he looked familiar, and– jesus, don’t you ever tell anybody about this but… he’s in a couple of movies I keep in the basement.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your eyes staring straight ahead down the road. You cringed at the new atmosphere settling in the car, stuffy with embarrassment and a picture of your uncle getting off to Joel stuck to your retinas. You wanted to hurl, this new picture not something you’d ever want to visualize. You were quiet as the revelation settled, your brain searching for words, but it was like they’d all fallen out your ears.

“Listen,” he cleared his throat of the discomfort, “I don’t know what he is to you, if he’s your boyfriend or what–”

“He’s not,” you squeaked, ready for this conversation to be over.

“I saw him kissing you when I stepped out of the toilets,” your uncle accused sternly, a biting lilt to his voice.

“Kiss me? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, confused about how he’d gotten it in his head that Joel had kissed you.

“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” he started to yell, “I saw it with my own two eyes, don’t you go lying to me.”

Your heart picked up its pace, all the blood in your body turning to ice in your veins. Pressing your lips together in a thin line, you fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

“I don’t want you seeing him anymore– that kinda filth he’s involved in…” he shook his head, “it’s sinful and I don’t want him getting you involved in that.” Your uncle’s voice was stern, words spat through gritted teeth.

You were frozen in your seat. Your heart beating so fast you thought it might burst through your ribcage. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. All too quickly you were transported back home, back to who you used to be. You drew a shaky breath as a single tear spilled down your cheek.

“What would your parents say if they knew what you were doing down here? Who your friends were? That Deborah? Did you see how short her dress was? The city of sin this is,” your uncle continued as he pulled into the parking lot outside your apartment complex.

With eyes glued to your hands, you couldn’t get a single word to come out of your mouth – like they were stuck to the back of your throat where they formed a painful lump. After parking the car, your uncle turned to you, a finger brushing over your cheek in a suffocating touch.

“Sweetie,” he started, voice gone softer, “I’m worried about you. You’re out here all alone– all alone with all this temptation. Wouldn’t it be nice if you came back home with me, hm? Get you back where you belong?”

"I–..."

The words stayed stuck in your throat, unable to rise over the anxiety that gripped you at the thought of returning home to your parents. How different your life would be, back to the way it used to be, an old prison you'd hoped you'd left far behind you. Yet you felt numb, finding yourself incapable of uttering a single word of protest as your uncle nodded self-righteously. 

"I think that's the best, sweetie," he told you, his tone sounding entirely too convinced, "Tell you what Hon. . . I'm gonna be driving back down tomorrow, and I'll be damned if you aren't sitting in this seat all safe right next to me, alright? So why don't you go and pack your stuff and a bag, and I'll be by in the afternoon to pick you up?"

You said nothing, the rising panic in your throat rendering you almost paralyzed. Your fingers desperately reached for the car door handle; you needed to get out of this car. 

Unaware of your distress, your uncle bid you a contented 'See you later' as you stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. 

Finally, he drove off. You watched him disappear with a knot in your stomach until he was just a tiny dot on the horizon, wishing he would stay that way as you tried desperately not to throw up your dinner in the parking lot.

“Hello?”

The electric static of your voice filled Joel with a deep sense of relief. His grip around the phone handset tightened as he forced out a clumsy, “It’s Joel.”

The sigh you sent down the phone tickled up his spine, but before you could say anything Joel continued, “I just wanted to apologize to you… for last night.”

He’d felt awful all through the night and into the morning. He’d fucked it up again. Letting you leave like that last night was the hardest thing he’d done in a long while. Had you not gone to the bathroom and left him with your uncle, none of this would’ve happened.

You sighed again, “All you do is apologize Joel, but do you ever mean it?”

Joel face contracted into a grimace, “I do, sweet girl, you don’t know how much I mean it,”

“Joel…” your voice sounded pained, and it shattered something inside him. He just wanted you to be happy, and loved, and taken care of, but all he’d done was hurt you, again and again.

“It doesn’t matter how much you mean it Joel… none of it matters anymore.” The tone of your voice scared him.

“What d’you mean, sweetheart?” he hurried.

“It’s just… you don’t need to worry about me anymore, Joel– I’m leaving LA tonight.”

Joel felt his heart drop to his stomach, a rising panic bubbling under his skin as he stumbled out, “What are you talkin’ about, sweet girl?”

“I’m going back home tonight. I-I don’t know when I’ll be back– if I’m coming back. Joel, I can’t be your assistant anymore.”

“Fuck being my assistant!” he spoke through gritted teeth, holding back from yelling out in panic, “What d’you mean you’re leavin’?” Joel’s voice faltered as his heart caught up with what was about to happen.

He was gonna lose you. You would never be his. He was losing the first girl he thought he could really love. The girl he wanted a future with. Hell, the girl he could see himself grow old with. Joel knew it was fast, way too fast to be feeling like this about you, but right now, all those shitty romance novels about finding ‘the one’, all those weeping love songs about love at first sight – after you, they didn’t seem so stupid anymore.

“Joel, it’s– it’s okay.” Your voice had gone soft, but he could still hear the strain of hurt in it.

“It’s not, sweet girl, nothin’ about this is okay.” Joel’s eyes fell shut, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t lose you. “I’m comin’ over– We can’t be doin’ this over the phone.”

“Joel,” you sighed.

“I’m comin’ over,” he reiterated, and hung up.

You were carrying a bag to your car when you saw Joel’s car pull into the parking lot. He must’ve noticed you right away as he’d hastily parked next to your own car – his wheels screeched against the asphalt. As you made your way across the parking lot, you watched how he almost jumped out the car like he was in a hurry, coming around the back to fill the space between your cars.

“Joel– you really didn’t have to come all the way out here,” you told him when you got close enough, stepping past him to place your last bag in your back seat. He leaned his hand on your door, holding it open for you, his broad form shielding you from the blazing afternoon sun.

Inside, your apartment was left half-empty. You’d left most of your things, only bringing your clothes, your pictures, your records and your record player, and your books. 

You didn’t need much more where you were going.

The thought still made your stomach turn in on itself, the dread of going back home had trickled down your back ever since last night. But what choice did you have? It was either your parents finding out about your job and Joel, or going back home. You knew your uncle; he’d never keep this a secret if you didn’t do as he said. If your parents found out it would be over for you. You didn’t even want to think about it; they’d disown you if they were feeling nice, or send you to an asylum if they were feeling extra nice. If you didn’t go now, they’d never let you come home again, and it scared you, you were already on thin ice for moving to LA in the first place.

“Are you just gonna pretend this isn’t your uncle’s idea?” Joel’s voice had a bite to it, and it caught you off guard. Standing to your full height you raised a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. His face wore none of the anger you’d heard in his voice, instead there was a veil of sadness coating his features.

“I– Why do you think that?” You tried to keep your voice steady, normal, you didn’t want him to hear how scared you were.

“’Cause of what he told me back at the restaurant,” he closed your car door, “told me he knew who I really was and to stay away from you– he didn’t want me taintin’ you with my filth.”

Your eyes fell shut as your hand came up to rub at your forehead. So that’s what happened yesterday? Letting your hand fall, your eyes fell over Joel’ face; over his neat mustache that tickled you in just the right way whenever he kissed you, over his soft curls he’d let grow out the last couple of months, and over his eyes. His brown eyes now swirling with something you hadn’t seen in them before. Shame?  

“I done fucked it up haven’t I– you associatin’ with me? He’s takin’ you back to your daddy, ‘s that it?” When he met your eyes they softened, a veil of his regular self now concealing that blink of insecurity.  

You shook your head as a lump grew at the back of your throat, “You just– you don’t understand Joel.” The words came out strained as you felt tears push behind your eyelids.

“Hey,” Joel softened immediately, his hand wrapping gently around your upper arm and sending a warmth through your body. “You’re okay, sweet girl, tell me what I don’t understand.”

He stepped a little closer, but not too close, his hand traveled up your arm in a soothing gesture. Your eyes fell shut again, squeezing them tight to stave off your tears. You’ve never talked about it before with anybody. Never talked about your family and how trapped you’d felt by their rules and their expectations; the guilt they’d instilled in you for never being able to live up to the person they wanted you to be.

You shook your head, “I don’t think I can,” you half-whispered.

“Sweetheart, I– I know I fucked it up with you, and I know I ain’t your boyfriend or nothin’, but I do care for you– I care for you more than you think. I wanna be there for you when somethin’s wrong. So please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Slowly opening your eyes, you looked at him. Those warm like whiskey eyes staring at you with concern and with a hint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Adoration? Fondness? Love?

“My uncle will be back soon,” you said, voice low, “he wants to get on the road before dark.”

“’s that really what you want?” he asked then, his hand slipping from your arm.

“It’s– it’s complicated, Joel.”

A sigh escaped him, as he ran a hand over his face, “Yeah… I just wish you weren’t leavin’– wish it didn’t have to end like this.”

He didn’t look like himself. Eyes shining with sadness, and that usual cocky lilt to his voice gone, exchanged by something low and strangled. His face contorted into a crooked smile, his shoulders shaking with an unhumorous breathy laugh as he shook his head.

“Shit–”, he snickered, “life’s cruel sometimes… you finally fall in love with a girl and then…” he shook his head.

You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Fall in love? In love with you? Joel didn’t look at you, his hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he started to walk away, rounding the tail of his car.

“Fall in love?” you asked, hands falling to your side in shock, “with me?”

Joel stopped at your voice, “Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged with a sad smile.

Those tears you’d fought so hard to stave off finally broke loose, a single tear running down your cheek – the tear in the dam of your sadness. Joel’s arms were around you in an instance, strong and steady. He held you so close to his broad chest, that familiar scent of cologne mixed with cigarettes making a sob escape you as you realized you’d never be able to be this close to him ever again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his shirt.

Joel’s grip around you tightened as he dipped his head against your cheek, “Why are you apologizin’, sweet girl? I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you whispered; your tears staining his shirt.

“Then don’t– stay,” Joel said, soothing a hand across your back.

“I-I can’t– they’ll… they’ll hate me if they find out.”

“Find out about what, sweet girl?”

“You… the porn… everything. He’ll tell them and I’ll never be able to come home again,” you cried into his shirt.

“Okay,” Joel sighed, loosening his grip around you, “let’s go back to my place– we should talk.”

“But my uncle–” you started to protest, but Joel cut you off.

“He doesn’t decide over you, sweet girl, you make your own decisions– you hear me?”

His hands found your face, his massive palms holding you gently as he rubbed his thumbs down your cheek, drying your tears. You could only nod.

You’d never been inside Joel’s house before, you realized, as you trailed after him up the steps to his front door. He lived in one of those houses at the top of a long hill where he had the most incredible view over LA. You knew porn paid him the big bucks, but he’d been sensible when it came to his home – well, sensible for LA. 

It was a one-story house in the shape of an U; inside, the hallway opened up to a living room where big glass doors framed his back yard and a kidney shaped pool. Warm, dark toned wood paneling clad his walls and made the space feel masculine, but inviting.

With a hand hovering over your back he guided you towards his couch. “D’you want a cup of tea?” Joel asked you as you sat down on his leather couch. He looked nervous where he stood, palms running down the side of his leg like he didn’t know what to do with them. It was contagious.

“Um, okay,” you nodded, shifting a little in your seat and folding your hands in your lap.

Waiting for Joel to come back from the kitchen you tried to steady your stuttering heart. You’d been mostly silent on the drive over, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Joel was in love with you – the fact never seeming to stick to your brain in the right way.

It felt ridiculous – Joel, a successful pornstar, being in love with you. But stacked on top of his confession was the fact that Joel was a pornstar – making a living out of having sex with other women. You didn’t understand how exactly it bothered you, but you knew that it did somewhere deep down – but then again did you have any right to be bothered by it if it paid your bills.

“Didn’t know if you took sugar or not so I brought the bowl.” Joel pulled you from your thoughts, placing a steaming cup of tea and a small crystal bowl filled with sugar on the coffee table in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, your hand finding the string to bop the teabag as you watched the steaming water turn darker.

You felt the cushion dip as Joel sat down, a seat of absence between you. 

The air felt loaded. Loaded with the week left behind you. Loaded with Joel’s lingering confession. Loaded with the uncertain future. Joel watched your hands, eyes fixed but far away.

“I… uh,” Joel cleared his throat as he searched for his words. “I wanna apologize to you for– for everythin’ that happened at work on Monday.”

You felt yourself not, drawing back your hands to rest them in your lap, a finger clumsily picking at your nailbed.

“There ain’t no excuse for how I was actin’– for the things I said… truth is, the way I feel about you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You make–” Joel tipped his head, a smile coating his lips, “you make everythin’ just brighter– like everythin’ will be alright as long as I have you… And I know this all feels fast, but I’ve been crazy ‘bout you since I first laid my eyes on you. I ain’t ever believed in that ‘love at first sight’ crap but,” Joel hesitated, like the words hung at the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t let go.

“But?” you encouraged.

“I think I do now.”

His words tasted so bitter and so sweet. Tipping your head downwards your eyes found your hands.

“Joel…” you shook your head, trying to will the words to form. “This… I don’t understand.”

“What ain’t you understandin’, sweet girl?” He shifted his weight, leaning closer but still maintaining a respectful distance.

“Why me?” You looked up from your lap, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” He breathed out in shock.

“I mean, you’re Joel Packer– you can have any girl you want… and I guess you already do– at work.” You swallowed around the growing lump in your throat, tears pushing behind your eyelids.

“Well, I ain’t in love with all those other girls, am I?” His voice was gentle; the words escaping like they were the easiest words in the world.

Your tears pushed their way forward, trailing down your cheeks like curving rivers. Joel instantly moved closer, the familiar warmth of his body against your side made the tears run faster.

“Hey, my sweet girl, it’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” he cooed, pulling you into his embrace.

“It’s not, Joel… I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into his shoulder.

“Tell me and we’ll figure it out together,” he pulled away to cup your head in his hands, thumbs wiping away your tears, “just tell me, baby.”

You watched his face, your eyes dancing over his features, drinking him in. Drawing a deep breath, you told Joel everything. You told him about your parents and your upbringing, their rules and their expectations. How they’d wanted you to be the perfect student, the perfect daughter, and someday the perfect wife. You told him why you’d moved to LA in the first place – to run from it all, from the guilt and shame they instilled in you for never being what they wanted. Joel held you in his arms as you emptied your feelings. He let you speak, humming at the right moments and squeezing you tighter when it was extra emotional for you.

“And now my uncle’s gonna tell them about you and the porn and–” you spoke fast, stumbling over your words, “they’ll disown me– I know it or worse they’ll come and get me… send me somewhere,” you sobbed.

“Heyheyhey,” Joel shifted his hold on you. You’d sunk into the couch as he’d let you talk, your feet slung over his lap as he held you close. Now he sat up, turning your body to face him, eyes locked with yours. “Listen, baby– they ain’t takin’ you anywhere, you hear me? You’re an adult– you’re your own person now!”

“I know I’m askin’ a lot of you– you’re afraid of losin’ your family– I understand! Believe me I do.” His head tipped against your forehead, nose brushing gently against yours. “My folks, they—... well they ain’t talkin’ to me anymore. Don’t matter how famous I am, I’m a sinner to them.”

“Joel, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart aching for him.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about– it’s in the past and I got Tommy…” he trailed off, lifting his head, one large hand cupping your cheek. “Listen, my sweet girl, you’re the only girl I want. I want you to stay, but I want you to stay for your own sake. There ain’t nothin’ you owe your folks, okay? And I promise you I’ll always be there for you!”

For once you didn’t think.

Leaning closer you brushed your lips against Joel’s, and it made all the walls inside you break down. Humming in surprise he stalled before he relaxed against you, pulling you closer, his hand pressed into your cheek. There was no air, only Joel. His mustache tickled your upper lip and cupid’s bow in just the right way, and you realized just how much you’d missed him.

The kiss was languid like molasses, pulling you apart and putting you together again. Your hand found his neck, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck – tethering yourself to him. He broke away from your kiss, pressing soft tender kisses along your jaw, his hand brushing down the column of your neck.

“Come sit in my lap, sweet girl,” he whispered into your skin and a rush of electricity sped through your body. His hand fell to your waist while the other grabbed at the thick of your thigh – maneuvering you to straddle him.

“There you go, my good girl,” he praised, his hands rubbing it into your skin. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Joel leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the spot where your jaw met your neck.

“Joel, I– ah!” you gasped as he brushed his tongue over that sensitive spot behind your ear. You felt his smile against your skin, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin before his lips brushed over your drumming pulse. He kissed his way along your jaw, nose bumping into yours as he hovered before your lips – daring you to kiss him again.

You took the bait, eyes flicking down to his lips before you pressed your own against him. You didn’t have much experience with love but being this close to Joel felt so right. Maybe this was what love was, you thought. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” you mumbled against his lips, your words swallowed by his kiss. A wide smile blossomed across Joel’s face at your words, and soon you were kissing teeth.

“Whatchu sayin’, sweet girl?” he grinned, raising one eyebrow at you as he leaned back.

You had to fight not to roll your eyes at him, at how he always found a way to playfully tease you. You weren’t joking though – you meant it, you really did.

“I’m in love with you too,” you told him sincerely, “I don’t know how to be in love, so you’ll have to be patient with me, but I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always want you, sweet girl, always,” he promised, sealing it with a chaste kiss.

“I uh, I think I need to quit being your assistant too,” you said, biting your lip. “I can’t– I don’t really want to see you with other women… you can tell me about work, but I don’t want to see it.”

Joel squeezed your waist gently before rubbing soft circles over the spot. “That’s okay– thank you for tellin’ me,” he nodded, “I’ll talk to Ronald ‘n see if he knows if there’s any assistant jobs for you over in Hollywood.”

You slowly shook your head, “Ronald is a piece of shit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Joel chuckled, leaning his head against the back of the couch, “But he’s connected, and very convincin’.”

“He’d never do that for me,” you said.

“But he’ll do it for me– I’m his favorite client,” he grinned, leaning forward to cup your chin, before pulling his hand away.

“You just make him a lot of money,” you countered with a shrug, still sitting pretty in his lap.

“Do I now?” Joel asked, leaning closer with a cocky grin, “’n how do I do that, sweet girl?”

“Joel,” you sighed as his lips brushed over yours in another quick peck.

“Listen,” he started, “It’s been a long time since I’ve dated anyone ‘n I won’t lie, last time it got complicated ‘cause of my job. You know what the job entails, but I need you to talk to me– we need to be communicatin’, you need to tell me ‘f somethin’s wrong– just like you’re doing so well for me right now.”

“Ok, Joel,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your temple.

You stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, you didn’t know. But it felt nice to be so close, to just be in each other’s company, to enjoy being so in tune with another person without any ulterior motive. You didn’t know when, or who started it, but his lips were back over yours, moving in a perfect rhythm. Slow and drawn out, enjoying every second of being this close. When his tongue darted over your bottom lip, the kiss got messier, more passionate, like either of you couldn’t get enough of the other.

Under you, you felt Joel’s cock harden, the feel of what you did to him making your cunt ache for him. His capable hands had explored your clothed body, rubbing softly over the dips and curves before they’d landed on your ass. With a gentle rock, he’d moved you back and forth over him, catching your every moan with his mouth as your clit caught on his growing bulge.

It felt so good. Joel felt so good.

He moved you expertly over him, edging you closer to an edge you didn’t think you could reach this fast, your arousal soiling your panties with every grind. The kiss got sloppy, and you broke away, content little sighs escaping your mouth as you buried your face in Joel’s neck. He was everywhere. The scent of him, his warmth, his hard cock underneath you– it was all too much, and Joel knew it. Tightening his grip on your ass, he bucked his hips to meet your grinding, and you snapped. Mewling into his neck, you withered in his lap, legs shaking with your orgasm.

“Joel,” you managed to moan between the white hot ecstasy.

“There you go, baby– good girl, come for me, just like that,” he encouraged, rubbing his hand down your back in gentle strokes. His heavy hand rested over your back, pressing soft kisses to your temple as you came down, cooing at the aftershock.

With your mind somewhat back on earth you lifted your head from the home you’d made in his neck to place a soft kiss to his lips. Meanwhile your hands slipped between your bodies, clumsy fingers fiddling with the buttons on his jeans.

Joel broke your kiss, “Not here.” Confused, you pulled away, your eyebrows meeting in a furrow. “Let me fuck you properly… in my bed.”

Stumbling back into his hallway, your hands linked, he led you to his bedroom. His decorating was simple: a king-sized bed placed up against the back wall, paired with more of those large floor-to-ceiling windows gave him a view out into his backyard. An art piece hung above his bed, which looked suspiciously like a Warhol, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it with Joel’s hands on you.

He took his time undressing you– one painstaking item at a time, dotting kisses to each new piece of skin revealed. You were practically swimming in your arousal by the time he got to your panties. He had that look in his eyes, something dark and filled with lust as he sank to his knees before you. Never breaking eye contact, Joel leaned in, his lips brushing over the soft spot below your belly button – it made goosebumps prickle across your skin, and a hitch of breath to get stuck in your throat.  His lips skated downwards, running along the elastic of your panties, teeth nipping at the bow in the center.

It was like time stood still. Outside the setting sun filled Joel’s bedroom with a golden hue, and bathed him a soft warmth. The way he looked at you sent bolts of electricity through your body, into every nerve ending. He was everywhere, and you wanted him everywhere, wanted him inside.

His fingertips grazed the side of your thighs, finding the thin sides of your panties. His eyes locked with yours and you nodded along with a breathless, “Yes,” before he pulled them down. A smile filled with cocky happiness spread across his features when he hit a bit of a snag, your arousal and previous orgasm making the fabric stick to your cunt.

After helping you step out of your panties, Joel sat back on his heels as he admired you. His tight jeans clung to his thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but trail over him; over his strong muscles, his impressive bulge, his signature belt buckle and his scarlet red shirt with the deep V, straining against his shoulders. Naked and bare for him, he took in your body, those warm whiskey eyes memorizing every inch of it. The rough skin of his hand made you keen under his touch where it skated up your leg, following your form and parting your legs for him. Hooking his hand under your thigh, Joel placed it over his shoulder giving him a perfect view of your wet cunt, while your fingers found his curls to keep yourself steady.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he whispered almost to himself, “it’s all messy f’me ain’t it?” He dragged his lips along your inner thigh, dark eyes locked with yours.

“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out – your whole body alight under his touch.

“Yes, it is, baby,” he underlined his words with a finger swiping through your soaked folds, the sound filling the space between you. “You hear? Hear how messy?”

A heat traveled up your neck to your cheeks, making them burn under his playful teasing. “Joel,” you whined, your fingers tightening your grip on his curls. He continued his teasing, placing wet kisses to the inside of your other thigh. The coarse hair of his mustache brushing against the sensitive skin in just the right way. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, “you gonna let me take care of ya, sweet girl? Gonna let me show you I’m only yours?”

You were nodding even before he’d finished his sentence, “Yes,” you sighed. The ache between your legs burned so bright it almost hurt.

With your permission, Joel closed the teasing distance, and buried his face between your legs. He started with a kiss directly to your clit, before he dipped lower to taste you properly. Small and breathy sighs escaped your lips, your other hand not in his hair falling to his shoulder to keep you from keeling over.

The flat of his tongue lapped at the seam of your cunt, collecting your arousal on your tongue, as he hummed in contentment. It felt too good. He always made you feel so good. When the tip of his tongue teased your hole, you had to bite down on your bottom lip to fight back the moan about to escape you. Pressing your heel into his back, your body bucked by its own will, meeting the swipes and zigzags of his tongue.

“Joel,” you gasped when he found your clit again, a tense arousal building in your core. Spurred on by your noises, Joel sucked at your sensitive bud, laving his tongue over it in lazy strokes.

“Fuck,” you whispered, breath hitching in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut from the ecstasy. You were close now, your second orgasm approaching fast in Joel’s capable hands– or tongue.

“C’mon, baby,” he spoke between laps over your clit, urging you on, “come all over my tongue.”

A hand slid up to your ass, holding you flush to his face as you started to wither above him. His cheeks were warm from your soft thighs, his mustache slick with your arousal as he brought you closer and closer.

“There she goes, good girl,” he said with a ragged puff, encouraging you when the dam finally broke. His grip on your ass tightened, keeping you upright, as your whole body started to shake with your orgasm. Your grip on his hair was tight, tethering yourself to Joel, as you whimpered out breathy moans. Your hips bucked into his mouth, and the heel you dug into his back must’ve hurt, but your mind was entirely elsewhere, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

He pressed soft kisses to the fold where your thigh started as the aftershocks coursed through you, holding you steady while your chest heaved for breath as you tried to calm down.

“Joel,” you sighed contently, your hand brushing over his hair. He didn’t pull away like you thought he’d do, instead he placed another kiss to your sensitive clit. You jumped at the touch, a giggle catching in your throat.

“I’m not done witchu, sweet girl.” You could feel the smile against your skin, the way his lips smoothed the exposed surface, the sweetness of his smile practically dripping down your legs.

He helped you slide your leg off his shoulder, his big hands framing your waist as he rose from the floor with a restrained grunt. He looked a mess. Hair pulled in all directions, mustache glistening with your wetness and cheeks smeared with your arousal. Seeing what you’d done to him, you felt your cheeks heat up.

With his hands around your waist, he walked you backwards, until the back of your legs hit the end of the bed. He was crowding your space now, the familiar scent of him now mixed with you sent your brain into a mushy state. He pushed you forward gently, and you fell down on his bed, bouncing slightly.

Joel towered over you, still completely dressed. The thought of how bare you were for him, while he was still fully clothed, sent a tingle down your tummy to your core. He had the upper hand, and it felt good. It felt good to let him take control, to be able to shut your brain off for a while, to know he would take care of you.

Across his face, Joel wore his signature cocky grin as he stepped closer to the edge of the bed, the hardwood floor creaking slightly with ever step. You dipped your head to your shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes, and it made his smile wider. He stalked over you, his hand curling around your ankle before he playful yanked you towards him. A yelp fell from your lips, before a giggle broke lose.

“Oh, you ain’t gonna be gigglin’ like that when I’m done witchu,” he teased, lowering himself over your body.

“W-what are you gonna do to me?” you asked breathlessly as Joel dipped down to nip at the skin below your collarbone.

A deep chuckle rumbled across your skin between his kisses, “Gonna make you come, and come and come, sweet girl– wanna feel you squeezin’ around cock– make you forget your own name.”

“Shit, Joel,” you stuttered out as his lips closed around your nipple, “I-I haven’t–”

He cut you off, “That ain’t matter to me, sweet girl, I know you’ll be good f’me.”

And he was right; you wanted nothing more than to be good for him.

He kissed a trail down the valley of your breasts, across your tummy and the dip of your belly button until he reached your mound. Joel got comfortable on his knees, hooking his arms under your legs to manhandle you the way he wanted, spreading your thighs, and putting your wet cunt on display for him.

“Sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he pulled back and spat, and you felt the way his spit dripped down your clit, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

With his thumb he smeared his spit through your folds, not that you needed it, you were plenty wet from your two previous orgasms. You jumped under him when he brushed your clit, puffed and sensitive as it was, and it made him chuckle.

“You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, sweet girl?” he coaxed, putting more pressure on your clit with his thumb.

Your moan got caught in your throat as you hurried to answer him, “Y-yes, Joel, so sensitive.” Heat and arousal flushed through your body, traveling through your bloodstream, and shading the world in a rose-tinted hue.

Another chuckle escaped Joel before he ducked down and brought his lips to your clit, while two of his fingers teased down your folds to edge at your opening. You felt your hole clench in anticipation, as a whimpering moan fell from your lips.

“This hole is just drippin’ for me ain’t it?” he teased, voice muffled by his lips around your clit.

You couldn’t think, so consumed by his touch and the way he made you feel. You managed to nod and breathe out a “Yes.” Joel hummed around your clit, the vibrations edging you on as his fingers prodded at your entrance.

Pushing forward he thrusted his fingers inside. It was a snug fit, but your arousal dripping over his knuckles made it easy. He immediately curled his fingers, expertly prodding at that sensitive spot inside that made you squirm underneath him and buck your hips involuntarily.  

“Shh,” Joel soothed you, fingers still pushing up, hitting something that made your leg shake involuntarily as he circled them against the delicate flesh.

Shit. Fuck.

You mewled, whiny breaths falling from your lips as you hurled quickly towards the edge, again. Joel didn’t let up, thrusting his fingers expertly into that perfectly sensitive spot. When your right leg couldn’t stop shaking, he slung his other arm over your stomach, keeping you in place for him.

“That’s it, sweet girl, that’s your g-spot, honey,” he cooed between lapping and sucking at your clit, “Are you gonna come again, baby? You can let go– ‘s okay.”

The added pressure of his arm sent your hurling towards your release. Your back arched off his bed at a particular perfect thrust; your breath coming out panting and breathless.

“Joel–” you heaved, “J-Joel, I-I’m—,” you couldn’t finish your thought. You clenched around his fingers, a pressure building like you’d never felt before – you felt like you were about to explode.

Joel sucked hard on your clit before he moved his lips off with a soft pop, “C’mon, honey,” he coaxed, stopping his thrusting fingers to massage at your g-spot, “Be a good girl f’me and come all over my fingers.”

With his permission you came with a silent cry, eyes squeezed tight as your whole body arched off the bed, your head pressed tightly into the mattress as you let it wash over you. It was like your body clenched and released all at the same time. Small tears trickled down your temples, your body shaking from the force of your orgasm. You gushed over his fingers, and Joel pulled his fingers from your wasted hole at the exact right moment, right as a stream of liquid released.

You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a cloud of ecstasy you’d never felt before – the feeling so intense, it made your eyes roll back. Beside you, you felt the bed dip. Still shaking from your orgasm, you heaved for your breath, trying to come down. Joel’s arms snaked their way around you, pushing you against his body as he cooed and hushed you.

“You’re alright, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your temple, “squirting all over my hand like a good girl.”

“Joel, I–” You were still catching your breath, still reeling from the intensity.

“You’re ok, baby.” 

He held you close until you’d fully calmed down, and your heartbeat had steadied. You let yourself be held, to just be. Joel pressed absentminded kisses to your skin. One on your cheek, another to the pulse of your neck, a third to your collarbone. He was amazing. He was yours.

“Thank you, Joel,” you finally spoke, “I’ve– I’ve never done that before, it… it felt really good.”

Joel pressed another kiss to your cheek, “You’re welcome, baby– you looked so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that.” 

He pressed another kiss to your cheek before he pulled away. Standing to his feet he stretched his back with a groan. You watched how his muscles moved underneath his shirt. He must’ve felt you watching him as he sent you a cocky smile over his shoulder before he padded towards the door of his en suite.

You turned onto your stomach, your eyebrows pulling together in a furrow as you asked him, “Where are you going?”

“Just gonna getchu ya somethin’ to clean up with,” he explained, nodding his head towards his en suite.

“But…” you trailed off, eyes flicking sheepishly towards his bulge, his cock rock hard and straining against his jeans.

He caught your eye, his trademark cocky smirk spreading. Joel turned his body towards you, and let you ogle him as he crept towards you. “But, what?” he questioned, one teasing eyebrow raised.

“What about…” you bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks. He’d made you squirt for fucks sake, and you still couldn’t ask him for his cock.

“What about what?” he teased, standing at the end of the bed, his hard cock now eye level with how you were sitting. He watched you from above, how you flicked your eyes from his face to his cock, trying to tell him what you wanted without saying the words.

“You want more, greedy girl?” he questioned, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him, “You want my cock, don’t you?”

You nodded in his hand, big moony eyes looking up at him. Joel shifted his weight, his hand traveling from your cheek to your chin, letting his thumb run over it in a smooth motion.

“Take my clothes off,” he ordered.

Sitting up on your knees, your hands started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Above you, Joel watched you – warm eyes studying you. Unbuttoning the last button, you placed a nervous hand to his chest, right above his heart. Under your palm you felt it beat, fast paced, but steady. With a scrunch of your face, you looked to him.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, fitting his own hand over yours, “I’m crazy ‘bout you, sweet girl.” He dipped his head to fit a soft kiss to your lips.

He helped you with the rest of his clothes. His shirt hitting the floor first, then followed by his belt and his jeans, and lastly his socks. Clad only in his white briefs, you took him in. His handsome face, his neat mustache, his tanned skin and broad shoulders, but most importantly (at least in this moment), his aching cock.

“Take it out f’me,” he ordered.

Obeying his command, your fingers dug into the elastic. His rock hard cock strained desperately against the cotton, a wet spot had formed where the head was, turning the fabric translucent from precum. You pulled his briefs down his legs, his impressive cock springing free to bob in front of your face. Joel stepped out of his underwear, kicking them across the floor to the pile with his other clothes.

You moved up the bed as he crawled over you, parting your legs for him to fit between as you laid back against his fluffy pillows, the scent of him overwhelming. His cock rubbed against your cunt, the head catching on your clit as he adjusted himself over you.

“This whatchu wanted, sweet girl?” he asked, guiding the tip through your folds, and coating himself in your arousal.

“Y-yes, Joel, please,” you begged, “want you.”

Between your legs he jerked himself off, spreading your wetness all over his cock, a slick wet sound squelching from his fist. Joel’s eyes trailed over your body before he shook his head.

“Sit up,” he said.

Confused, you did as he said, sitting up on your knees before him. Joel shifted on the bed, leaning his back against the headrest, his impressive cock standing to attention in his lap.

“C’mon baby, come take what’s yours,” he said, reaching his hand out to you and helping you straddle his thighs.

Looking between your bodies, you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Each time you’d had sex, Joel was always the one in control, but now… Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, insecurity an uninvited guest in the home you’d made in Joel’s bed.

Warm hands cupped your cheeks then, lifting your head to meet his. “You’re alright, my sweet girl,” he told you, fitting his lips against yours, “wanna feel you squeezin’ my cock.”

With Joel’s guiding hands, you lifted yourself over him as he guided the head towards your entrance, the head of his cock pushing through your folds. “Take it slow ‘f ya need it,” he told you, reassuring you. With a timid nod, you shifted your weight slightly, steading yourself on your knees before you slowly sunk down on him.

Your mouth dropped open at the stretch, never really getting used to the size of him – even with the thorough prep he’d done to you. You took your time, easing yourself down on him one inch at a time till he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. He was so deep inside you in this position, you felt him in your tummy, too deep for a cock to reach.

“Shit,” you cursed with a whimper, feeling Joel’s thighs press against your bare ass.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, knew you could do it– takin’ all that cock f’me,” he praised as you tried to adjust to the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you. His hand landed on the small of your back, pushing you closer to his chest and making you rock forward in his lap.

“Y-you’re so deep like this,” you stuttered, draping your arms around his shoulder to steady yourself as his cock hit a new angle inside you, and making you see stars.

“I know, sweet girl, I know– feels good, don’t it?” he cooed, and rocked you in his lap again. Your clit caught in the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and it made a gush of arousal drip down his cock.

You nodded your head desperately. It felt good, it felt really good.

“Why don’t ya bounce on it f’me, honey– make yourself come.”

Again, you obeyed.

You started slow, inching upwards just a tad before grinding down on him again, working yourself up and down his length at your own pace. Below you, Joel watched you closely, a lazy smile spread across his face. His hand on your waist helped guide you, and soon you were bouncing on his cock like an eager little bunny.

“Fuck,” you cursed between moans.

The drag of his cock inside you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. Love and ecstasy and pleasure – all mixed up into one infatuated feeling. Under you, Joel groaned unabashedly. The noises he made, deep and rugged as he started to meet your bouncing with his own thrusts, building a rising rhythm of pleasure.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he groaned, “squeezin’ my cock so good.”

“Uh-uh,” you nodded, mind gone completely blank.

The feeling of him filling you just right with every thrust and hitting that special spot inside you, were almost too much to handle. Your thighs burned with the effort, and you didn’t know how much more you could take before he was hurling you over the edge for the fourth time.

“You gonna come again, sweet girl? Gonna be my good girl and give me ’nother? Give that big cock a nice squeeze?” he encouraged.

You were far too gone to say anything coherent and when his thumb found your clit, you knew you were in trouble. Your legs shook from pleasure and the strain of your bouncing, and you fell forward, your head finding a home in his neck as you gasped. Joel worked quickly and expertly, shifting your weight on his lap so he could thrust into you from below. Breathy whiny moans escaped you in quick succession, and then you were falling apart for him with a cry.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you through gritted teeth as you withered in his lap, squirming and gasping in his lap. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around his cock as you rode through your orgasm. Under you, Joel’s breath became shallower and his grunts more restrained, and even in your cloud of ecstasy you knew he was close.

“Fuck, ‘m comin’” he let out, quickly lifting you off his cock before he spilled hot cum onto your tummy and mound, his panting moan deep and guttural. It was hot and sticky and suffocating in a good way.

As the sun set over LA, you and Joel found refuge in each other under the pink and orange sky. Your panting breaths slowed to a still comforting silence as you held each other close, and you knew that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

You had been unable to see it before, or simply just unwilling to let yourself see it, but the answer had been on the tip of your tongue all along. Joel had been the missing piece of your puzzle, the part you'd never even known you'd needed until he'd slotted himself securely into that space, completing your life in a way your family had never been able to. Being with Joel felt right, and if there was one thing you did know, was that no matter what your uncle said or did, or what your parents would think, you were done making sacrifices.  And so you laid in Joel's arms, your chest unraveling with the relief of the knowledge that for maybe the first time in your life, you were making a choice entirely for yourself, and that, given the chance, you would choose Joel, every day, for the rest of your life.

and that's the end <3 if this was a movie we'd slowly fade to a drone shot of LA while cher's cover of "lay baby lay" starts playing as the credits roll over the cityscape.

i hope this was okay, and that the ending was satisfying and that you liked it? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[ponderingmoonlight]

hi lovely ! you asked for kny requests and i've just finished my kny volume 22 re-read, so thats perfect timing 💙

I was wondering if you could write something with Yoriichi — (tw for potential child loss)

Maybe a hurt/comfort fic where his pregnant wife actually survives the demon attack while he's away (but maybe she gets quite badly injured and their unborn child doesn't make it, if you want to add a little extra angst to it. If not then that's totally fine, this man deserves a happy ending after all 🥺)

Of course, you're the writer — feel free to take any creative direction you'd like or ignore this request if you're not comfortable with it. Have a lovely day/night! <3

Again, I'm beyond sorry you were forced to wait for this so long! But here you go honey, let me know what you think <3

Yoriichi saving his pregnant wife and unborn child just in time

Pairing: Yoriichi x pregnant!wife!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: You never expected to face a demon ever again, especially not when you are about to deliver your child while your beloved husband Yoriichi is in search for a midwife. Will you and your child be alright? Will your husband make it back on time?

Warnings: injury, horror, child birth, tortue, description of death, extreme angst to fluff, last part is not proofread

Notes: Since the first Yoriichi fic I wrote, I'm so deeply in love with his character that I adore writing him so much! Since this fic took a while, I would totally appreciate your support through liking, commenting and reblogging this fic - thank's a lot babes <3

He can’t get enough from simply looking at you. You with your head in the clouds, you with your hand mindlessly roaming around the soft grass underneath, the other one caressing your heavy pregnant belly, you when you give him those surprised eyes as soon as you notice his presence.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you’re already here”, you say in a small panicky voice.

You didn’t expect your beloved husband back this soon. If you would have known that he’ll be here by know you would have cleaned the whole house, made him something to eat and-

“I can only imagine what is going on inside your head again.”

His soft but at the same time rough hand touches your cheek gently, the loving gleam in his fuchsia eyes making you blush in an instant. All the voices in your head stop right in their track when he’s around.

Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Your savior, your best friend. And most importantly, your husband and father of your future child.

“How are you feeling, love? Did you enjoy your afternoon?”, he questions, eyes wandering down your body to your swollen belly.

It was hard leaving you alone in a state like this, but he wasn’t able to resist the urgent call from last night. He might be nothing but another simple man holding a sword, but it is his responsibility to save those who are in need. What else is he able to give to this world?

His hand lands on your belly, feels the tiniest kick of his unborn child against the palm of his hand. At least he was able to create a smaller version of you. Is it a boy, a girl maybe?

“I hope our child is a reflection of you”, he finally mutters into the silence, a small but somehow sad smile forming itself on his lips.

You suddenly forget how to breathe, glossy eyes fixated on his captivating sight. Oh, oh much you hate the stinging fact that your husband thinks so negatively about himself. Why can’t he see all the heroic things he has done so far, how respected he is in the demon slayer corps? Why can’t he see that every inch of his body is flawless? Out of instinct, you let your head rest against his broad chest, breathe in his strong scent. If you could only stay like this here forever, his hand resting against your body while the sun tickles your skin-

A violent moan escapes your lips when a sharp pain runs through your stomach. A kick. A really rough kick, to be exact.

“Are you alright, love? Did something hurt you? Is it the baby?”, your husband asks feverishly, his usual neutral face garbled by worry lines on his forehead.

“Just a kick”, you press out, still fighting to regain your composure.

“I will search for a mid-wife, (y/n).”

His words make your eyes widen in an instant, a wave of fear crushing down on you. Is it really time already? You look down at your swollen belly, so big that you aren’t even able to sit down properly anymore. This has to be the ninth month of your pregnancy.

Your heart sinks. The ninth month. If the books you’ve read are accurate, it really is time.

“I can’t do this, Yoriichi.”

Thick panic runs through your veins, forces your heart almost out of your chest. You aren’t ready to deliver a child, let alone to be a mother. All the things you haven’t read yet, the things you’ve probably never heard of…What if you mess it up? Until you met Yoriichi, all you were able to do was trying to survive. Your mother never had the chance to tell you about those things, isn’t here anymore to stay by your side.

You are…on your own.

“Look at me, (y/n). I will go out and search for a mid-wife and I’ll be back at sunset, you hear me? Just stay inside the house and nothing will happen. I promise to return as early as possible.”

Fuchsia eyes that radiate through your soul immediately. An angelic voice that calms down your tingling nerves with only four sentences. Strong arms that lift you off the ground and lead you back into the warmth of your home.

But know, it’s not the wooden cabin that feels like home. Your eyes wander to the neutral expression he wears on his face, only betrayed by a worried glow in his orbs. It’s him, your beloved husband.

“Are you feeling alright, love?”

You take a deep breath in, a deep breath out. Eyes focused exclusively on him until your mind finally silences. It’s just you and him. You and your beloved husband, the man you would trust with your life without battling an eyelid, the man who made you the person you are today.

“I do”, you breathe out.

Your heartbeat tames down as well as the kicks of your unborn baby, Yoriichi’s hands keeping you from falling over.

“Promise me to lock the doors and wait in bed until I return, (y/n).”

A seriousness you only know from him when he is forced to leave at night veils his calm eyes.

“But…you will be back before the sun sinks, right?”

He gifts you a small smile, hand caressing your cheek so gently that you almost forget about the worry lines decorating his face. The truth is that the next midwife lives miles away. Even if he gets to the village as soon as possible, the sun will be about to set when he returns. Yoriichi can’t help but clench his other hand into a fist next to your stomach. The sheer thought of not making it in time, that you’ll be defenceless.

“Don’t worry, love. Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”

But he cannot allow himself to fail you, to leave you alone in those oh so merciless nights. He will return, no matter what it costs.

He presses a soft kiss against your forehead before grabbing his sword tightly.

This. This is his fate, his family. You are his whole life.

And he’ll do everything to protect you.

-later that evening-

You are exhausted. Over the last few hours, your body was haunted by waves of pain coming and going like the seasons. Again, you dig your nail into the wooden floor, your heavy breaths hanging in the thick air. You definitely don’t need a midwife to tell you it’s time. Yes, your baby is on its way.

And your husband didn’t return yet.

Your glossy eyes dart towards the window, witness how the sky outside turns bright red in the down-going sun. Is Yoriichi alright? You know how cruel life can be. Maybe he met a person who needed to be saved on his way, maybe the midwife is too old to rush to your side in time.

“Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”

Those words. Even though he’s not yet by your side, you are able to feel his powerful presence around you, how he calms down your aching heart.

“Everything will turn out alright”, you mutter to yourself while caressing your tummy.

“Everything will be alight…”

You allow your lids to rest, body relaxing for the first time since your husband left. You will get through this, you will deliver your wonderful child tonight. A tiny bundle of joy, an image of its father. Is it a boy, a girl? As long as your child is healthy, you couldn’t care less.

Carefully, you curl up on your futon, snuggle yourself into the blanket that still holds his scent. Maybe you’ll be able to catch a few hours of sleep until he finally comes back. Sleep sure does sound very appealing at the moment.

But just when your breath begins to steady, a violent scratch forces you to sit straight up. It came from outside, without a doubt. Is it an animal, is it…

Your throat gets tight immediately, glossy eyes staring at the closed window in sheer horror. The trees bend back and forth peacefully in what looks like a tender night. But that scratch, it sounded exactly like claws digging into hard wood, sent shivers down your spine immediately. You know that sound all too well, experienced what it means to get slaughtered by a demon before. Just before your whole family died violently, this was exactly what you’ve heard.

Out of instinct, you bury yourself into the corner of the room, the blanket that holds Yoriichi’s scent still pressed against your now shivering body tightly. Please, let it be nothing but a wild animal, let your husband come back home soon. Maybe this is nothing but a nightmare and you’ll wake up any given minute-

A violent pain runs through your body so suddenly that a shriek escapes your lips. Suddenly all air escapes your lungs, the way your belly cramps making you see start. No, you know exactly what this means, that this is not the right time to deliver a baby. Isn’t there anything you can do to stop this? You still need to wait for your husband, the midwife, for this gut-turning feeling to vanish. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, sharp and fast breaths hanging in the thick atmosphere.

But it doesn’t stop there. As if this wasn’t enough already, you can only stare at the door that gets opened painfully slow, claws digging into the wooden frame.

Without any doubt, this is a demon.

You press your sweaty palm against your mouth, force yourself to stop screaming, to stop breathing.

“I know you’re here, human. You smell like a…woman.”

It’s like all life is drained from the dead shell of your body, widened orbs staring at the frightful creature that makes its way into your home. Get up, fight, defend yourself like you saw Yoriichi do countless times, use the knowledge you gained from him.

But you don’t move an inch, don’t dare to look away. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. Out of all the nights you’ve spent together with your husband, this is the first away from him, the first without his protection. Is all of this a dream, a hallucination to test your nerves?

The second the monster’s deadly red orbs meet yours, you get hit by reality. No, this isn’t a dream.

This will be your death.

“I knew you were here, lady. Let me help you up, okay?”

“N-no. Please d-don’t”, you whimper under your breath.

Your coward of a body doesn’t even fight back when he lifts you off the ground with ease, his nails digging into your soft flesh.

“Oh, you’re expecting a baby, don’t you? Well, does this count as a double kill, then?”

Your baby getting killed? If that thing ends your life, it means your unborn child will never experience dawn, will never get to see the face of its father, will never take in his scent. Your glossy eyes widen in sheer horror, tears now streaming down your face like waterfalls when a single frown form on your forehead.

You couldn’t care less about your own life. After all, you were lucky that Yoriichi saved you back then, didn’t even deserve to survive when your whole family had to die before you. But that oh so innocent child that might have the eyes of its father, the blessing of your life right after your husband. That innocent life cannot be taken.  

There is no way you will let this creature lay hands on it.

Your body reacts faster than your mind. With a surprisingly well-placed kick, you free yourself out of the monster’s casual grip. You need to get out of the house, out where you are able to find shelter, to run away. Your lungs feel like bursting any given minute, legs trembling underneath the weight of yourself and the unborn baby you still carry right under your heart. Even if it means you’ll die in vain, even if you won’t be able to see Yoriichi’s tender eyes ever again, you have to make sure your child is safe.

“I underestimated you, stupid woman. As it seems you didn’t give up on life yet”, the creature purrs what feels like right next to you.

A new nauseous wave of panic rises up your veins, makes you sprint even faster through the thick woods that surround your house. This has always been your favorite place to be. The calm trees waving back and forth in a soft breeze, your husband right by your side-

Your husband. Just the thought of never getting to see him again makes your heart ache. You didn’t even get the chance to thank him one last time, to let him know how much he truly means to you, that he’s way more than the man who saved your life back then.

He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed.

A sharp pain that radiates through your lower body sends you straight onto the ground immediately, figure cramping so violently that you can’t catch your breath. No, this is not the time labor, not when a demon is this close.

“Oh, there you are. Did you really think you can run away like that? You, a little human? You made me so man that I will kill you as painfully slow as possible.”

You try to lift your trembling figure off the ground, try to get back onto your feet, to sprint down the forest you know so well. But just when you’re about to get back onto your knees, a stinging pain in your right thigh paired with a contraction sends you straight back.

A violent scream escapes your lips.

Red. Everything around you is discoloured red. Is this your blood? Did this thing kill you already, are you going to die? Despite the way your guts start to turn when you follow the trail of blood, you can’t look away. And there it is indeed, a gaping hole in your leg, throbbing and bleeding.

All color that is left now drains from your face. With an injured leg, your chance to escape this demon’s claws is non-existent. Which means…

Your heart skips a beat, threatens to fail you any given second. What about your unborn child? A violent storm of anger and determination clouds your mind, makes all logical thoughts vanish into thin air.

“You can’t kill me”, you press out.

Since the day you first laid eyes on a demon, you accepted your own death. Your life is worthless anyway, compared to great warriors like your husband himself. But that oh so innocent child, that tiny life you were given to. You ball your hands into fists so tight your knuckles stand out white and lift your throbbing self off the ground. You cannot allow a demon to take the life of that unborn baby.

“I won’t allow you to touch me.”

You realize the stupidity of your words after they spill out of your mouth in rage. You, not allowing a demon to touch your puny figure? Another contraction makes your guts turn and vision almost go black.

As expected the frightful creature draws closer, its unpromising pair of razor-sharp teeth glittering in the dim moonlight. You never expected to see a demon this close again. Oh, how much you hoped you’d never find yourself in that situation again. But you have to get through this, have to make sure you will survive long enough for the mid wife to deliver your child to this world.

His child.

“I’m sorry Yoriichi. I never planned on leaving you alone like this”, you mumble to yourself, shaky lips tinted in salty tears.

“But this all I’m able to do.”

-Yoriichi’s POV-

Something seems off. Is it the way the trees bent back and forth in the soft breeze of the already set sun? Is it that distant smell that hangs in the air, the one that reminds him of fresh blood and lavender?

“We must make haste. I can sense that danger is ahead of us”, he speaks out with firm voice.

He promised you that he’ll be back before the sun goes down, that he will make it on time before demon are able to roam around freely. Are you feeling alright? Is the pain unbearable at this point? Do you still hold trust for him in your heart? His footsteps pick up instinctively, eyes set on the visibly stressed man behind him. In contrary to most people, Yoriichi doesn’t fear the night or the demons it brings. The only thing he fears at the moment is what you have to endure without your husband by your side.

With every he takes forward, the stinging smell of blood mixed with lavender becomes more urgent in his nose.

Lavender.

He always wondered how you did it. Even after washing, all your clothes kept that calming scent that surrounded you as if you were standing in a lavender bush. A smell so sweet that it caught his interest back then before he caught a glimpse of your fascinating orbs, a smell that always reminds him of home. Yoriichi’s home will always be where you are, where the sensation of lavender is the strongest.

Lavender, the stinging smell of blood that hangs in the air. His eyes widen when his mind starts to race. The smell, it radiates from the direction of your shared home, from the direction that usually fills him with excitement. Can it be…?

His heart starts racing uncontrollably while he dashes forward and draws his sword. Let it be nothing but coincidence, a cruel joke his thoughts play on him. But the stinging fragrance of lavender mixed with iron fills his heart with dread, makes his mind go numb. What if you got attacked by a demon, what if you are in great danger? All because he didn’t live up to his promise, because he didn’t make it on time. His eyes roam around the dark area, desperately searching for a sign.

And then his eyes find you.

Yoriichi’s heart stops.

There you lay, leaning against a nearby tree with a puddle of blood surrounding you, widened eyes starring straight into the face of a demon who hollers above you.

“No one is coming to save you, stupid girl.”

He doesn’t waste another second. With a swift motion of his sharp blade, Yoriichi beheads the demon on top of you while a toe-curling scream escapes your lips. Just one look at your sliced-up kimono reveals countless injuries, especially a gaping hole in your thigh. You hold onto your swollen belly for what looks like dear life, eyes still widened in nothing but shock.

“(y/n)”, he gently speaks out while letting himself fall down next to you.

You have to blink a few times. The demon, it was just about to dig its sharp teeth into your sensitive skin, to take the life of your unborn child in front of your eyes.

Maroon.

But those aren’t the deadly red orbs. No, those oh so gorgeous eyes look so familiar that your heart tames down in an instant. Could it really be, is it possible that it’s…him?

“Yoriichi.”

You breathe his name into the night like a prayer.

Maybe this is nothing but an illusion, a cruel trick your own brain plays on you.

“Words can’t express how sorry I am for arriving too late. I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone this long, for causing this to happen”, his oh so familiar voice blurts out.

Yoriichi’s usual so composed face twists in sheer agony, eyes filling with salty tears. All of this is his fault. He should have arrived sooner, he should have made hurry, he-

“We didn’t come this far to worry now. Please, help be delivering this child, let it all make sense”, you press out while grabbing his hand tightly.

It doesn’t matter that you’re severely injured, it doesn’t matter that your beloved husband took longer than expected to come back to you. All that matters now are you, him and your unborn child that waits to be delivered.

“Allow me to assist you.”

A foreign man suddenly speaks out with sweat dripping from his forehead in waterfalls. Just when another wave of nauseous pain hits you with full force, as if you got kicked into your stomach by a horse. You fail to breathe for a second, hands holding onto your husband for dear life.

“You are already close, it won’t be long now”, the man reassures you while gently opening your legs.

“You can do it, (y/n). After all the things you had to endure today, you will be able to get through this. With me by your side. I love you more than any words could ever say, darling.”

One more push.

One more wave of pain before your body goes numb, before you lose the ability to feel anything except for sweet nothingness.

Until a loud shriek finds its way to your ear.

A violent scream, almost frustrating. When you open your eyes again, you are greeted by a crying but alive bundle of joy, carefully wrapped into a white cloth and placed onto the arm of its father.

Those eyes.

“I prayed every night that he would have your eyes”, you whimper with tears running down your cheek uncontrollably.

You did it. You saved your beloved child who looks just like its father, you managed to somehow stay alive.

“She”, the midwife corrects you gently.

“She…”, you mumble with a small smile.

The last thing you see are the troubled maroon eyes of your husband before your world goes dark.

-the next day-

A foreign but still so familiar laughter fills the atmosphere around you with joy while you see nothing but black. When your stubborn lids finally open, you are greeted by the wooden ceiling you know so well. This is your home, without any doubt.

The home a demon invaded.

The home where you feared for your life while your husband rushed to the midwife in order to deliver your child.

Your child.

You get up way too quickly, glossy eyes darting around the room without a real aim. Is your baby okay? What happened after the delivery? All you can remember are those familiar maroon eyes that looked so much like the orbs of your beloved husband. Your husband…Where is Yoriichi?

“Don’t move too quickly, love. The doctor strictly forbids you to be in a haste”, his gentle voice speaks out next to you.

Just a few moments later, you get invited by the warmth of his arms swallowing you whole. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall against him, press your very own body into his despite the scorching pain that immediately takes over your whole self.

Right, you were attacked by a demon the night you gave birth. How did you manage to escape? Are your injuries critical.

But most important: How is your baby?

“Look what you have accomplished. A little wonder. Just like you, my love”, your husband murmurs, carefully lifting a little bundle off a blanket nearby.

Your heart nearly stops when you catch a glimpse of her. Those maroon eyes are the last thing you remember before everything goes black. With shaky hands, you start caressing her puffy cheek. This. This is what you fought for, what makes it all worth it in the end.

“She has your eyes”, you hush, tears now streaming down your face in waterfalls.

“And your hair”, Yoriichi replies with a soft smile towards you.

“(y/n), I promise I’ll do anything in my power to protect you and her from something like this. I promise I will stand by your side no matter what. And I hope that someday, you will be able to forgive me for not being there for you when you needed me the most.”

The second your husband’s voice cracks, you can’t hold onto yourself any longer. You wrap your arms around him and your daughter longingly, take in the scent who gave you strength that night.

“There is nothing to forgive and nothing to feel sorry about. You did your very best and that is all that matters. I love you, Yoriichi. And I have to thank you for saving both of us just in time.”

“You are my greatest treasure on earth”, he mumbles against your lips while giving you a passionate kiss.

What a plot twist, what a happy end after all. Yesterday you were sure your life is over, that you won’t live onto the next day. And now you’re lying in your house, holding your giggling daughter while pressing your heavy head against your husband’s broad chest.

“Well, I fear I will have to share this special place by now”, you comment while gazing at your perfect little daughter.

“This might be true, love.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san

[james-is-here]

Babes, Okay, Cheat fic idea and guess what....I use my ex's actual name cause he was honestly a jerk on the brink of being a dick.

The plot twist is that this cheat fic is more like a revenge fic in a way cause- Well, just read it, it's better than explaining it 😅 the member I used is also a mystery and I gave Mn arm tats cause it's a weakness of mine.

Specifically for @succubus-hansol because filth. This smut is filthy and messy.

Blogs: @belladonna6-6-6 @heartbinn @leezanetheofficial @yongbokkk @michelle4eve @dontwannaexsist (Imk if I forgot you or you want to be added.

You were none the wiser about what your boyfriend was doing. You loved Shawn and he loved you, you trusted him and never saw him badly, he was the sweetest.

You didn't suspect the new cologne on him, the new hoodie, bruises, new necklaces, hiding his phone, elated attitude when he visited you, giving you vague answers when you ask where he's going....

Wait...

You didn't give him those things and his recent hiding from you is suspicious. How have you not looked into it sooner? Especially when he use to shrug when you took his phone, now he makes up excuses as to getting it out of your hand.

"Hey, where you going?" "Um...my mom needs my to help in her garden. I'll be back later." Okay, that's suspicious. "Isn't your car with your brother?" "Oh, I'm taking an uber." "Oh, okay. Love you!" You yell but he's already out the door. That's what tipped you off, first he was wearing an unbuttoned dress shirt and loose fitting slacks and boots. Second, he hates getting dirty, he doesn't do anything that gets him or his hands dirty.

When he came home hours later, he was tipsy, swaying everywhere and tripping over his feet before collapsing onto the couch and you watched from the dining table.

His phone ends up on the floor and you take the chance to check it. You two shouldn't hide things from each other but he does and you can't help but to listen to the devil on your shoulder, while your angel is trying to get you to trust Shawn but all you do is block it out.

You pick up his phone and unlock it, surprisingly it's the same passcode as always and yet he keeps it from you. Opening his app history, you see his messages and see that he's texting someone with the cliche contact name of "Doordash". Did he really think that you'd think the app itself was texting him?

Doordash: You just left and I already miss you 🥺

Doordash: When can we meet up again?

Doordash: I'm free tomorrow, wanna meet up at the convenience store next to my place?

Is he...seeing someone behind your back? Clearly this person doesn't know about you like you didn't know about him.

Scrolling through other messages, your chest tightens when you check a chat and realize that's it's yours and he fucking named you "Grubhub".

There's other contacts and fake names that haven't had any interactions in years, you and "Doordash" are the only ones minus his family members.

You pull out your phone and open your uber that you shared with him. Last ride on your account was surprisingly thirty minutes away. Closing out of the app and opening your contacts, you make a new one and save the "Doordash" number before going back to the other persons number.

After forever of texting Shawn, you know how to play the part.

You: Of course ❤️ I'm free as well, what time?

Doordash: Five okay with you? Wanna take you out before taking you to my bed. 😏

Damn, whoever this was is one smooth motherfucker.

You: Oh I can't wait 😩 See you then 😘

You delete the messages on your end then put the phone back with Shawn and leave yourself a reminder of what you just committed to.

What's shocking is you don't really feel hurt that he's been lying to you. Maybe a little but honestly you think you'll survive without Shawn.

When your reminder went off, Shawn was passed out in bed still. He woke up on the couch, hungover and in pain, so he was sleeping the previous night off.

"Mn, where you going?" He mumbled when he heard you digging through your closet. "Boss called me in for a little bit for a staff meeting and I need to pick up my paycheck. Won't be gone long." "Mmm okay." He hums as he stretches before settling and promptly passing out.

Leaving the bedroom with jeans and a grey t-shirt hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, showing the black ink chinese dragon wrapped around your right forearm and ivy vines wrapped around your left.

You grab a white cap and your keys, slipping on your shoes then heading out the door. The drive is short and you have to park across the street but looking around, you don't see anyone possibly looking for someone else until ten minutes after the set time.

A guy wearing all black walked to the door of the convenience store and leaned against the wall next to it, checking his phone and then turning his head back and forth, this has to be him.

Turning off your car, you get out quickly then cross the street, leaning on the other side of the door. You wait a couple minutes, glancing at him a couple times before the bell of the store rings. "Excuse me, you both are loitering. Either come in and get something or leave." The store owner scolds and you went to speak but the other spoke first. "Sorry, Ma'am, I'm just waiting for my boyfriend-" You quickly jump in, knowing she won't take that as an excuse. "No problem, Ma'am, we'll get out of your hair."

You give the other a tight lipped smile and walk over to him. "Sorry, come on." He surprisingly follows you to the side of the shop and you both find a bench. "Um, so why'd you do that? I was actually waiting for someone." "Sorry, again. Who were you waiting for?" "My boyfriend. His name is Shawn. I really should at least go back, at least nearby so he can find me."

He goes to stand but you stop him. "So you're Doordash?" "I- Excuse me?" Sighing, you rub your eyes and lean back. "Uh, okay...Shawn wasn't the one that messaged you to meet him here. It was me. He's also my boyfriend..." "What? No, Shawn wouldn't do that to me." "I thought the same thing. He told me last night he was going to help his mom in the garden." He sat up and looked at you almost in realization. "When he left my place he said he needed to get home to take care of his mom cause she was sick." "He came home tipsy last night." "We...We drank last night, how the fuck didn't I make that connection?" He berates himself and slouches back against the bench.

You both stare at the road ahead of you before you speak up. "Well...I'm Mn. What's your actually name Mister Doordash?" "Doordash?" You snicker at his confused face, thinking about it he is really cute. "Shawn named you Doordash in his phone. I was Grubhub." "That's so dumb." "That's what I said!" You laughed and a small smile graces his face. "I'm Chris or Chan. Guess it's...nice to meet you? I don't know." "I don't know either."

You both stare at the road again but you turn to look at Chan. He really did look cute, you guess Shawn can choose good men. He has a good looking face, fluffy hair peaking out of the beanie he wore, and you couldn't help but take in every detail, including how soft his lips looked, then you realized they were moving.

"Your ink looks cool." "Huh?" You blink, spaced out for a moment. "Your tats, they look really cool." "Oh, thanks." "So...Since we're both currently ghosting Shawn, wanna go get something to eat? It's better than sitting here and honestly I don't want to go home yet." You notice he's looking down at his fidgeting hands and glancing at your arms.

"Yeah, beats failing to try and get back at him and not coming up with anything." Honestly, since looking through his phone, the devil on your shoulder has taken the reins and you honestly wouldn't mind getting back at Shawn by using Chan.

"Can I be straight with you?" "Um, I think that'd still make you gay." You shake your head with a smirk as you laugh, throwing your head back. "Oh, you got jokes, huh?" He lets out a laugh and it's clear that the awkwardness is gone.

"I meant, smartass, can I be honest with you?" He giggles and nods. "Yeah." "We go get food, I pay, and then we get back at Shawn." "We?" You hum and stand up. "Food first, honestly I'm really hungry. I'll tell you then, yeah?" He sits up, looking up at you and then sighing and standing. "Yeah, okay. You will pay, right? Shawn makes me pay." "I always pay." "Okay then."

He actually takes you to Changbin's restaurant, his best friend. A homey bistro Chan helped him make a reality. "Who's this?" Changbin asked when Chan brought you to the bar in front of the open kitchen. "Funny story, actually. Mn, this is Changbin. Changbin, this is Mn, Shawn's boyfriend." Changbin choked on the water he was sipping and almost dropped his cup.

"You're joking." Chan sighs and sits down, you sitting next to him. "Nope. Apparently we were secrets, even in his phone." "Ooh, what were your names?" Changbin has heard of fast food contact names but has never heard it in person so he was eager to hear as he leaned on the bar in front of him. "Doordash." Chan answered and you followed with, "Grubhub."

Changbin grimaces and whistles lowly. "That's sucks. Anyways, whatcha want to eat?" Chan orders his and you get the same thing, not really sure what to get since his friend's menu looked really good.

When he delivered your food, Chan immediately started eating but you messed with your fries. "Hey, daydreamer, you okay?" Changbin teases when he returned from another customer. "Oh, yeah." "Thought you were super stunned by your food but you haven't even eaten anything." "Sorry, just never been cheated on and I feel like I should be upset. I mean I am but I also don't care." "People react differently. Honestly, if I was you I'd get revenge sex." Chan choked on his soda, couching and gasping and you reach over and pat his back.

"Ch-Changbin!" "What? That's just me." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I like you...funnily enough, I've actually been thinking the same thing." "Seriously?" Chan cleans up the soda he spilled and Changbin lowers his hands. "Yeah."

Chan didn't know how to answer, he just looked away and this time it was him staring at his fries. "Well, sleeping with other people wouldn't really be revenge but I guess-" "Dude, of course it's not revenge. I meant you and Mn. I-I mean if you want, y'know." Then he glances at you. "He's not bad looking, if you don't take him I will." You chuckle shyly while finally eating your fries. "Plus, you do have a thing for tat-" "Changbin! Please...I love you, mate, but shut up." "Dude, don't yell at me, you literally look like you brought him on a date."

He suddenly looks around, an older couple in a booth, a younger couple a couple seats down from you at the bar, and a teen on a laptop with headphones on at a table near the window. Looking at you, he smiles sheepishly. "Sorry." "It's okay. Also wouldn't mind getting revenge with you." "Really?" "Yeah." You smile, looking down at the counter, glancing at Chan's friend then back to Chan. "Shawn is good a picking the cute ones."

He sighs, a shy grin on his face as he rests his elbows on the counter and covers his face. "He flusters easily, doesn't he?" "He's usually confident and flirty, this is a first." "Oh really?" Changbin snickers when you lean over to Chan and he doesn't notice. "Chan?" He uncovers his face to look at Changbin but jumps when he sees your smirking face, dropping his hands onto the counter with a small slap as he leans away, hiding his smile in his shoulder as he completely blocks the two of you out.

"You both are jerks." You lean back to your seat with a soft chuckle and watch Chan straighten back up. "Are you serious though?" "I'm not usually one to sleep with people I just met but yeah, I am." Suddenly Changbin is harshly setting down his towel on the counter and leaving from behind the bar and coming over to Chan, pushing him out of his chair then pushing you out of yours.

"For two people who just met, there's a lot of tension so go take care of it, lunch is on me, go, go, go." "Wait, I said I'd pay though." "Don't fight with Changbin, if he says it's on him, it's on him, I've tried." Chan answers you as his friend shoves you out.

"Go, forget Shawn, have fun, I don't know." He pushes you out the door and then shrugs at the end of his sentence. "I swear, why am I friends with him?" "I heard that!" He yelled from the other side of the door.

Standing there awkwardly, you put your hands in your pockets and look down at the sidewalk. "Um, we don't have to at this moment...we could just watch a movie if that's okay." Maybe a movie could relax your nerves a little. "Yeah, that's okay." He smiles and steps away with you following, taking you to his place which is surprisingly a block away.

His apartment was cozy, not too many decorations but enough to show his personality and what he likes. "It not much but it's mine." is what he said when the both of you entered. "It's nice." You replied.

Now you sat on his couch, he sat cross legged on one side and you were stretched out on the other, arms crossed lazily on your stomach. It was a bit awkward, just sitting there in silence but it was okay.

Chan suddenly moved to sit closer to you and you glance at him from your peripheral. "How long had you been with Shawn?" "Mmm a year?" "Damn..." "What?" "He was with you before me. Six months." You shake your head, honestly astonished with this information.

Bringing up his knees, you saw his hand reach out to your leg before it stopped and his arm wrapped around his legs. Bringing a knee up, your thigh moved closer to him and you readjust, an arm going over the back of the couch, and he moved slowly to mess with the threads of your ripped jeans, turning his head only slightly but mostly hiding his face in his knees.

He slowly moves from the threads to the edge of the rip and then his fingers slip into the rips, fingers soft on the small exposure of your thigh.

Hesitantly, you take his hand into yours, just holding it but he tightens the hold slightly and pulls it towards him while crossing his legs and holding it in his lap, not even realizing he's practically encased himself with your arms in front of him and behind him.

His fingers are light while tracing over the head of your tattooed dragon, tracing its body and turning your arm to trace the lightning around its body. You stare at the side of his head, watching his eyes take in the details of the ink.

For a moment, you get lost in his beautiful features. You suddenly act on impulse, his hands moving from your arm when you raise your hand to his chin and turned him towards you. "You trapped yourself." You said softly and his eyes move around rapidly and suddenly realize where he is. "O-Oh, sorry." "You really do like people with ink, don't you?" "Yeah. I-I don't know why...just looks cool."

Tilting your head, you move forward and kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and when he doesn't pull away you move under his jaw, your kisses were soft and were barely there.

He inhaled sharply when you pressed your lips under his jaw, specifically under his ear, and you graze your teeth over the spot to get his reaction, a barely audible whine, before biting and sucking. Biting his lip, he lets out a soft moan and automatically tilts his head to give you more room and you move your hand from holding his chin to under the other side of his jaw and hold him where he was.

Attacking more of his neck, his noises were soft and held back as he kept his mouth shut, his hand moving to your knee, nails digging into your knees and causing a dull pain but your jeans lessen it.

Your hand moves to his thigh as you move back on the couch, getting closer and pulling his thigh towards you which makes the male move, uncrossing his legs and moving just as close.

Without thinking, your left hand still on the back of the couch moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his hair then pull him back. That finally got a noise out of him, his lips parting and letting out a soft moan as he turns his head slightly towards you, lips still parted as his chest heaves out the soft pants he's panting out. His eyes wide and glancing at your lips, shining with spit from your recent attack.

You lean forward slowly, tilting your head and your lips barely touch before one of your phones is ringing. Pulling away, you look towards the sound and find your phone on the coffee table, Shawn's contact on the screen.

Looking back to Chan, he nods his head and you let go of his hair, leaning forward and picking your phone up before answering it bringing it to your ear at the same time Chan sits up, pushing you against the back of the couch and you watch as he throws his leg over your spread legs and sits on your lap.

"Oh-" "Mn? You okay, you've been gone for ages." You put the phone on speaker and hold it away from yourself as Chan places his left hand on your neck and his right on your bicep then leans into your neck, returning the marks that you gave him. "Ah~ Yeah, I'm okay, did you need something?" "No, just miss you. Thought it was just a staff meeting and getting your check?" "I-It was, boss kept me longer. He promoted me." "That's amazing!" That promotion was two weeks ago. "So you'll be home soon?" "Yeah, I should be. M-Mom asked me to stop and pick up dog food for Brexit." "Okay...Well, hurt back, yeah?" "I will." "Okay. See you soon, Mn." "You too, bye Shawn."

You hang up, tossing your phone onto the floor softly before placing your hands on Chan's thighs and turning to the left, laying him down and hovering above him between his legs. "You are braver than you look." "Thank you?" He asks with a laugh which made you smile.

"Now, can I continue what I was doing before I was interrupted?" "Yes. Please." Smiling, you lean down, barely touching his lips before you change your mind and lean up slightly, lifting your hand and thumbing his bottom lip, parting his lips further apart, his eyes locked on yours that are on his lips. "So obedient even though you just met me." His eyes flutter as he whines. You gently push his bottom lip back up so he closes mouth around your thumb and it's like automatic as he start sucking it. "How did Shawn get a hold of you? He hates being dominate."

He moans around your thumb when you push into his tongue then slip your thumb from his lips. "I-I'm m-more of a switch...but I haven't really, um, switched...guess I could only find subs so I never was one." "Well, now you can be."

Finally, you lean down and connect your lips, firm and absolutely certain that this is what you want cause when your lips connected with his full, soft ones and they parted easily for you, you didn't want to stop as you slipped your tongue in and swipe it along his, pulling a proper moan out of him and he sounds so good you can't help but groan in return.

His arms drape around your neck and pull you closer. In return, you act on impulse and lower yourself onto him and he moans again when your pelvis meets his, grinding your clothed growing hard-on into his.

Breaking apart for air, you move to his neck again and his back arches closer to you. "H-Hyung- Fuck, sorry." His hand flys to his mouth as you pick your head up. "So you have a thing for tatted older men?" "Am I wrong? I'm sorry." "I'm two years older than Shawn." "Same age as him..." Smiling, you kiss the corner of his mouth. "Then no, you're not wrong."

You lean back down, pressing your lips firmly to his before a ring tone goes off again. "Are you fucking serious?" You groan as you look up and grab Chan's phone, he takes it and answers but his hips still jolt up to meet yours. "Hey." "Chan! I'm bored~ Can we hang out?" "Um, one sec, can you call me back in a few minutes, I'm busy at the current moment." "Oh, yeah, sure." Chan hangs up, putting his phone on the table and pushing you off him to switch spots with him straddling your lap.

He pushes your shirt out of the way and drags his nails down your toned stomach before he comes to your belt, fingers fiddling with your buckle in fake struggle, fingers nudging into your bulge below the accessory as he pulls it apart, the buckle clinking against itself while he unbuttons your pants then slowly dragging down the zipper.

"Chan...Baby, go faster." You pant out before throwing your head back against the cushion when his hand palms you and opens your pants wider to fully hold you. Hissing at the sensation before huff out a moan and look back down at Chan's movements. "Fuck." "Baby make Hyung feel good?" He asked, his eyes wide and wanting as he bit his lip, humping into his own hand. "Yeah, baby. Shit, making hyung feel so good." His hand squeezes your bulge slightly before he lets go and pulls down your boxers.

Hissing at the cold air, you grip his thighs, attempting to pull him closer. "Hyung so...big...and heavy..." He purposefully lets some of his spit drip onto your tip as he begins to stroke you. "Baby, remember, Shawn's calling you back soon." "I know. You answer when he does and switch it to video call." "You crazy?" "For you? I am now. You think I'd let a guy and dick like you go?"

You chuckle as he scoots back on the couch, pulling your jeans further down to your knees and only pulls your boxers down to mid-thigh. "Gonna suck me off, Baby?"

His answer is taking your tip between his lips, tongue lapping at your pre-cum and swirling around your tip. "Fuck, so good." He takes more of you into his mouth, tongue moving rapidly on the underside of your cock, he moans as he pulls off of you with a 'pop' and exhales heavily as he strokes you, licking the underside of your cock. His actions all messy and sticky with saliva and pre.

His phone goes off again and you look over, grabbing it then looking back down to Chan who nods with a dazed smile and blown pupils. Answering it, you change it to video chat and point it at the ceiling before switching the camera to face the floor. "Chan? Why are you showing your floor, silly?"

He taps your thigh as he takes your cock down his throat and you groan as your head falls back, temporarily distracted as his warm, wet mouth takes you all the way in. "Ooh, you jerking off babe? Why didn't you call me sooner?"

You sigh out a moan, lifting your head then facing the phone towards Chan. "Wha- What the fuck, Chan?! You're cheating on me?!" You groan as he pulls up, his tongue sticking out as he reaches your tip and lets it rest on the pink muscle, his eyes blown wide and crossed slightly as he looks up at you. Your hand brushing through his hair, tangling in the strands and scratching his scalp, his eyes close as he moans. "Wait, Mn?! I recognize that tattoo, what the actual fuck?!"

"You cheated on us first..." Chan closes his mouth and starts bobbing his head, slurping and sucking, completely focused on your cock that he's become drunk on. "So don't go yelling at us." "This isn't fair." "What i-isn't fair is y-you cheating on me s-six months after we got together...a-and ch-cheating on Chan with me after that..." You get out through stuttery breaths as Chan's mouth felt so fucking good.

"W-We also know you were hiding us from each other. Doordash and G-Grubhub, really?" Chan gags on your length and gasps as he pulls back, jerking you off quickly as he rests your tip on his tongue again. "Fuck, Baby, go faster...gonna cum, baby, I'm so close." With your words, a moan, and a quick "Oh fuck!" You cum on his tongue as he keeps stroking you, humming at your release shooting into his mouth and when you finish, panting heavily, he licks your tip with the tip of his tongue before pulling back and shows his tongue mainly to you but Shawn was still yelling at the both of you.

He closes his mouth, swallowing your cum then sticking his tongue out to show you it's gone. You push yourself up, flipping the camera around before kissing Chan messily, tongues tangling together and you taste yourself on his tongue.

"We're done Shawn." You lean away from Chan and look at the phone, the younger male moving to leave marks on your neck as well. "Fuck both of you. This isn't fair." He hangs up and you laugh, tossing the phone away gently.

"Isn't fair, is he for real?" You think aloud before Chan is turning your head and kissing you again, moaning into your mouth as he moves back onto your lap and your hands hold his hips. "Hyung, please fuck me, I need you so bad." "Here or your room?" "Fuck me right here, please." "You can beg better, can't you?" "Hyung, please stuff me full. I-I need your cock, need it so bad, please Hyung, please." His his rut into yours, grinding his clothed erection onto yours, moaning freely.

"Baby so needy for his cunt to be full, huh? Only needy for me, right? You'll be mine from now on, right? Always want my cock stuffing you, keeping you full?" "Fuck, Hyung, please~" His moan morphs into a whine as his hips move faster.

You lay him down, sliding off your pants and boxers before pulling of Chan's sweats, finding him wearing only the sweats as his cock slips from the sweats and lays on his stomach, hard and leaking. "Commando, huh?" "I-I always was when I met up with him...now only for you." "Shit, you're so fucking cute." You toss his sweats next to your jeans before taking off your shirt.

"So hot..." His hands find your body as you hover over him and lick into his mouth. Your hand slips under his hoodie, hands smoothing over his skin and pushing up his hoodie. "W-Wait, I want to k-keep this on." "Okay." Your hand squeezes his peck before you move your fingers to pinch his nipple. "Ah~ Shi- S-Sensitive." He moans, arching his back and throwing his head back.

"I'm not removing it, just lifting it up." You say as you push the hoodie out of the way before leaning down and biting his tit. His hands, now covered by the sleeves of the hoodie, find your hair, gripping it when you move to bite and suck his nipple. His moans were music to your ears as you let go of his nipple and kiss up to his neck, biting and sucking under his ear.

"Hyung, please." He takes your cock into his hand, stroking you lazily. "I need to prep you though." "No, please." "Have you bottomed before?" He nods. "Please, I-I want...I need it, Please. I want the stretch...please, Hyung." He begs and you kiss him, your cock still covered in spit as you prop yourself up next to his hip, his legs folding next to your waist and spreading wider.

"Fuck." He wanted to watch but you are way bigger than he anticipated as you pushed yourself in, moving your hand to the side of his other hip. "Hngh~ Ah fuck~" His voice became higher, whinier as he lets out choked moans. "S'good, S'big. Hyungie s'big, ah~" He whines softly as he brings his hands up, clad with sweater paws as he hides his face.

"Yeah? Baby feel good? I haven't started fucking you and you're cock drunk. Has it been that long since you've been fucked?" "Y-Yes." "Then I will give you all I have." "Please, Hyung." "Don't worry, baby, I will."

You push yourself up, sitting back with your hands on his knees, holding him open. "Fuuuck Channie Baby...." Your left hand slides down his thighs and splayed itself on his toned stomach. "You look so fucking good. Such a good looking body, how did I not find you sooner?" Leaning back more only slightly, you gather quite a bit of saliva and let it fall off your tongue, landing on his hole and your length before you push in more.

Your right hand joins your left before holding his waist tightly and pushing forward at the same time you pull him towards you until you're finally all the way inside him. "Fuck~ S-S'full...S'big, fu-hgnh~" He squirms, body restless as he adjusts and his chest heaving heavily as it felt like the air was punched out of his lungs, his hands wanting to push him up to see but they let him go and his back arches.

You move your hands next to his head, mouth attaching to his and you swallow his moans, licking along his tongue, his teeth, the roof of his mouth. You claimed his mouth feverishly as you pull your hips back, leaning on your arm without pulling away to bring his leg up to his chest and hook it over your shoulder, leaning onto the other arm and bringing his other leg up and pushing it out.

"Hyung! Fuck, Fuck, right th-there!" "Already?" "Y-Yes, Yes, please move. Please fuck me, fuck...fuck me a-as if w-we d-didn't just meet each other, please." "Shit, you're gonna be the death of me now."

You push back in hard and he yelps, back arching the furthest so far as the moan he lets out is practically pornagrahic, you immediately thrust into him quick and hard, hitting his prostate dead on and drawing a moan with every harsh thrust into him.

"Fuck, you're so tight, Baby. So warm, so good. Such a good boy, practically letting a stranger fuck you." As he looks at you, his mouth is wide open, moans falling past his lips, and his eyes are blown wide and glassy with want, need, and lust. "M-Mn, F-Fu-uck, Hyung-" He gasps at the harsh thrust, your tip punching into his prostate. "I-I..." He whines, closing his eyes and looking away, covering his face with his right hand.

"You what, baby?" "I-I...I-I can't s-say it...just met you..." "We're w-well past that, Baby, just say it." "Fuck, I'm sorry...I-I l-love you, Hyung...I'm sorry." Leaning down, you give him a kiss, biting his bottom lip before letting it go and returning to hover over him. "It's okay, Baby. It's okay. I love you, too. Gonna take you out after this, screw Shawn, your mine n-now. G-Gonna treat you s-so well, g-gonna spoil my baby."

"Hyung, Fuck!" He arches into your chest, head thrown back. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, faster, faster, AH FUCK!" Your hand wraps around his length, helping him closer to his high before he's cumming hard, shooting up to where his hoodie is bunched up on his chest and he squeezes hard around your length.

He whines in overstimulation as you keep thrusting into him. "Just a little longer, s'close, gonna fill you up, fuck it deep into your cunt." He clenches around you, making you moan softly at the feeling. "You like that? Wanna be bred? Want my cum deep inside you, have my babies?" He moans as his dick twitches slightly. "Fuck, gonna cum, fill you full, Shit~" You cum with a moan, groaning a moment later as you thrust into him deeply, barely moving your hips as he moans at the feeling of your warm seed fills him up.

"Don't...Don't pull out..." You chuckle tiredly, collapsing onto him with your face in his neck. "U-Unless you c-can carry me t-to m-my room, we're laying here." You gently let his legs go, moving your own legs in order to sit up and take him with you. He yelps in shock as your dick shifts but still stays inside him.

"Think you can lean back and grab your pants?" "No, I sleep naked." "Okay then." You grab his thighs and stand up, he wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face in the side of your neck and leaving small kisses before he nuzzles his nose into your neck, cuddling into your arms.

"Do you have a plug?" "I'm hugging it." He mutters and you physically have to stop and laugh. "That's not...Really?" He giggles as you enter his room, closing the door behind you then moving to sit on his bed. "No, hold on." He detaches himself from you and leans to his right slightly to the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a plug.

"Want me to put it in?" "Obviously." You take the object from him and he places his hand on your shoulder as yours move to his ass, squeezing the soft skin and spread him before lifting him up, you slip out of him with a slight squelch noise then replace yourself with the toy. "Fuck..." "You okay?" He whines, shifting on your lap as your hands stay on his ass. "S'empty..." You chuckle, kissing his temple. "I'll get you a bigger toy so you'll always be full."

He pulls back, meeting your eyes. "Really? Y-You don't h-have to, I-I was just saying that stuff to...get off." "Were you really? I was serious, going to take you out tomorrow and spoil the hell out of you. Sounded like you were serious too, remember? Can't let a good guy and dick like me go." "I-I did...Shit..."

"Do you want to be something with me?" "I do. You're so much better than everyone else." "Then from now on you're my baby, my sweet baby boy, okay?" He nods shyly, leaning forward to hide his blushing face in your neck. "I'm your baby boy, Hyung. I..." He hesitates and you kiss his shoulder. "I love you, baby." He whines, tightening his hold around your neck. "Mmm...I love you too, Hyung."

Taking him with you, you lay down under his covers before covering you both up, he snuggles under his blankets and closer to you, wrapping his arms around your middle as he tucks himself under your chin, nose nuzzling at your neck and taking in your scent as your arms wrap around his shoulders and hug him close.

"Good night, Channie Baby."

"Good night, Mn-Hyung."

[dairy-farmer]

Would love to read about Tim Nanny McPhee-ing the Wayne family. And by that I mean Tim leaving when he's no longer needed although the Waynes want him to stay, a stark contrast to how he was treated when he first came to the Waynes. The only thing that seems close to this premise was that fic where Tim can see the future but died before he could warn the Waynes about Jason's death so he stuck around until Jason came back then had Damian come home early and when he asked the Waynes if they still need him for things like integrating Jason and Damian to the family, they answered no so he asked for one request and that is to bury his body elsewhere.

The angst is just so good in this premise. And I just want the Waynes to be inconsolable for days after Tim leaves

i googled the movie and!!!!🥺🥺🥺🥺that end quote!!!

the idea of tim being something that comes to them because the need for his presence is so strong. he's there just to help, to fix no matter how badly they might treat him and try to get him to go away. and he's so happy when they get better, when they heal and fuse all those broken ends. and in the end, even though he may not want to, he knows its time for him to go and move onto the next family who needs him.

and!!! just!!! the pain of all that!!!

of the family trying to convince him to stay that they love tim, they want him to stay and tim having to tell them that they may be true but they no longer need him and he needs to go.

imagine them crossing paths again and having to be pained by the sight of tim with another family, acting as another man's son, a different set of siblings' brother 🥺!

[mrghostrat]

So, first off, I can't express how talented I think you are. Your fanfics and art are phenomenal and I can't get enough. I just read Postcards from Paris, which I absolutely loved and laughed throughout the entire thing.

My question: I kept expecting a rating for the wine that Crowley had originally mentioned that Aziraphale hadn't found. Was this a conscientious thing to never mention this again? I also wanted so badly for other things mentioned throughout the Postcards to come full circle, such as Crowleys cooking and the crepes mentioned. Is there a possibility of bringing these things around full circle in the future?

Again, I love your work, keep it up.

thank you!! 🥺 honestly whenever i reread postcards i'm frustrated by that toooooo. it's such a perfect opportunity for a callback, but it was only my second gomens fic and i hadn't quite figured out my ~narrative voice~ yet and missed a lot of cool ideas haha.

if i wrote it now, i would've loved for crowley to bring a bottle with him when he goes to the bookshop, or for him to find one there at aziraphale's desk, unopened and waiting.

edit: forgot to mention the crepes and cooking etc! these ones were intentionally left unfinished, like little pictures and ideas of what their relationship has to look forward to now that they've found each other 🥰

[waywardangel-wilds]

Reading Mockingjay as someone who adores Katniss, is so heartbreaking. Babygirl is going through it. Like I legitimately believe once Peeta’s doing better he cries when he realizes everything she went through. His phrasing at the end of the book makes it sound like he wanted to get to her as soon as possible. I just get so emotional that they reach a point where they can take care of each other again 🥺

Oh my god thank you for sending this because I completely agree!!! I think about this a lot because during Mockingjay Peeta was out of it. He had no real clue just how badly Katniss was doing! And just reading that bit, where he comes back with the Primroses!!!! I just know he feels so remorseful like he should have done more (which he obviously couldn't have) because he knows that in many ways she was on her own and they've been a team for 3 years at that point and he wasn't there!!!

This is why I am eternally looking for the perfect growing back together fic that explores this because: !!!!!!!!!!!!!! That would be such an emotionally raw time for them!!!! Just UGHHH!! Knowing how Katniss is, and how she hates feeling weak, but also knowing that they trust each other a lot, but there's so much pain and baggage to work through and OMGGGG. I keep trying to write my perfect version of this for me but tbh I never will because I just can't seem to be able to deal with all the emotions this makes me feel!! AH!

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Uncle Wayne comforts you after a nightmare (e.m. x gn!reader, Y/N thinks of Uncle Wayne as their dad)

A/N: I had a night of nightmares, the first of which left me sweaty and shaking for about an hour before I felt brave enough to try sleeping again. And then I had another nightmare. And then I had to go to work. I was writing this in my head all day until I finally got to come home and type it up. I should be studying right now but I haven't written in WEEKS and it's slowly rotting me from the inside out, so here we go.

Dedicated this fic to @badgirlforeddiemunson because she left me a note from Uncle Wayne in my inbox which was exactly what I needed, it made me cry and I wanted to leave this little dedication as a thank you to her! 🙏❤️

A massive thank you as well to @fandomohana for helping me with Uncle Wayne's characterisation in this; this fic wouldn't be what it is without you!💗😍🙏

Aaaand a big big thank you to @ilovecupcakesandtea , who stopped me from deleting this fic because I felt like I'd forgotten how to write our beloved and bestest dad Uncle Wayne buuuut it turns out I was just being mean towards myself... There's a surprise😂💀thank you for reading this for me and validating my characterisation choices!💕💕💕

Tw; nightmare (not described so it can fit any nightmare you may have had), crying (reader), reader wakes up afraid, general anxiety (not wanting to wake a sleeping Munson and then feeling guilty for doing it accidentally despite best efforts not to), Uncle Wayne and Eddie are both absolute sweethearts, as aforementioned, Y/N sees Uncle Wayne as being like a parent to them & this is explicit in the narrative (totally not me showing my own feelings👀🥺), brief allusion to marrying Eddie one day throuhg Uncle Wayne's narration.

People who asked to be tagged in this: @pandawithprobs @arianatheangel-girl @ali-r3n @sagaonpandora @digital-charlie @tracymbcm @cherrycolas-things @simping-over-boys-with-trauma @stevesmunsons @esme-viridian @eddiemunsonsgf2 @browneyes8288 @allthefandomstogether @robinsbuckleys

Word count: 4, 197 (this took TWO MONTHS of grabbing ten minutes here and there every day where I could🥺🥺🥺)

(SEEING THEM SIDE BY SIDE LIKE THIS IS KILLING MEEEE ~ OMG PLEASEEEEE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔)

You awake with a start, your heart pounding in your head, nerves ablaze, body trembling. Sweat drenches your body. You feel cold, sticky. Disgusting.

The remnants of your nightmare cling to you as surely as the twisted sheets beneath you, your body writhing uncontrollably in the face of your terror.

You lay there in the dark, trying desperately to reorient yourself.

You can see Eddie’s beautiful guitar, looking like she was made for another dimension, hanging up on the mirror. You can see Eddie’s handmade Corroded Coffin banner (and you know what the secret is; that Uncle Wayne had stencilled the logo on prior to Eddie painting his band’s name on the old bedsheet - Eddie had been so excited that his hands were shaking too badly for him to do it on his own), you can see the way Eddie’s blinds never close all the way, letting the moonlight spill into the room.

You turn your head, your breathing still erratic, that lump in your throat growing more pronounced as the seconds tick past, and you see the one person in the world who fills your lungs with oxygen, your heart with rainbows, and your soul with reminders of all your reasons why.

Eddie.

Eddie.

You want so very badly to wake up the sleeping man, but you feel guilty at even the thought of doing that. Why should you disturb his sleep just because you had a nightmare? It would have been more than fine if the shoe was on the other foot, you would have wanted Eddie to wake you up so that he didn’t have to calm himself down alone, but for you to wake him up in the same situation, even knowing as you do that Eddie would want to be woken up so he could comfort you? No way, you won’t do that to him.

In the end, this thought is what breaks you: you're suffering but you're not allowing yourself Eddie because you want him to rest.

A sob rips out of your throat and you quickly muffle it with a hand, not wanting to accidentally wake him up either, stumbling out of Eddie's bed. You make your way down the narrow hall to come into the living room, eyes darting around nervously, looking for something to ground you; something to make you finally and fully realise that you're awake, you're safe, it's over. And then your eyes land on something - someone - which makes all the bad stuff not seem so scary anymore.

You see dearest Uncle Wayne asleep on the pullout bed.

And then you cry harder.

On shaky legs do you come to stand beside the bed, looking down at the human sized lump underneath the worn duvet. You bend down at the waist and lightly shake Uncle Wayne. In reality, you don't even shake him, you just half-heartedly wiggle your hand back and forth across the soft expanse of duvet. It is too gentle a movement for Uncle Wayne to be able to feel it, especially through the duvet. You don't want to wake him up, not really, but you also don't want to be alone in your fear, you want someone to comfort you.

But you don't want to wake anyone up just because you had a nightmare. You are a person grown, you can handle a nightmare without waking someone, right?

Wrong.

You wince against the tiny voice in your head, and partially give yourself what you want by sitting down on the floor beside Uncle Wayne's bed, leaning your head against what you figure is his shoulder. Your tears fall easily, your bottom lip starting to become sore with how hard you are biting down on it to keep yourself from making a sound. You are surprised that even walking into the living room hasn't woken Uncle Wayne up; he's a heavy sleeper unless one of his kids need him, unless you or Eddie need him.

"Uncle Wayne," you whisper as quietly as possible, one of your hands creeping under the duvet as you search for one of his; you know how he lays, you know roughly where his hands are basing on how he's laying, and indeed do you find one of his hands. You curl your fingers loosely around his as slowly and as carefully as you can, trying so hard not to wake him up even though you're desperately looking for comfort. "I'm really sorry. I had a nightmare and I - I need you but I don't wanna wake you up because you'll get mad at me." At this thought do you cry harder still, and the secretly awake Uncle Wayne's heart bleeds at all of the pain in your voice, barely audible even in the stillness of the room. "That's why I'm out here, I didn't even wanna wake up our Eddie but you're both all I want right now... but I can't because I'm an adult and I shouldn't be crying here over a nightmare and you're - you don't need me waking you up and - "

The only reason Uncle Wayne can still make your words out is because he knows you, he knows you, but as tears drip sore with audible plinks on the duvet and as you bend over his hand, pressing your forehead against his palm, you're practically incoherent. Uncle Wayne decides that it is time to come clean and 'wake up'.

When you start to repeat yourself, it means that your cycle of anxiety is starting, and he wants to quell it immediately. One of his kids need him, so who the fuck cares that he's just worked a twelve hour shift?

One of his kids needs him.

The hand which is pressing against your forehead twitches as Uncle Wayne splays his fingers, the pads rubbing lightly against your hairline. You start, not expecting the 'sleepy' touch of a man who has actually been awake since the moment you woke up; you had almost screamed. He knows you well enough to know that you don't ever want to bother him, and that's why you haven't woken him up this night, so he had decided to feign sleep so that he could pretend to wake up on his own; hoping to alleviate the guilt if you had woken him up. Uncle Wayne doesn't know if you know about this, but that's a conversation for when you're calmer and he is more 'awake'.

Fingers slide further across your scalp and begin to lightly smooth over your hair, the rustling of bedsheets tells you that your Uncle Wayne is rolling over, bringing himself closer to you as he gives up the game.

"Hey now, sweetpea," Uncle Wayne's voice is deeper than usual with sleep but just as gruff, and it is at perfect odds with the sheer kindness you see in his eyes, all the little night lights and lamps around the trailer creating a warm ambience in an already warm and loving home. "What monsters you been tryna' fight, darlin'?"

All at once, you feel like a small child standing at the foot of your parents’ bed. Distantly, you realise that you are, and tears drip anew down your face, faster and harder than before. You woke him up you woke him up stupid stupid you woke him up - you inhale shakily and two words rip out of your throat like they are terrified they'll be swallowed if they don't jump off the tip of your tongue right now.

Uncle Wayne always manages to make you realise how not okay you are; you fool the world easily and sometimes even Eddie has to squint at you to decide for himself, but Uncle Wayne? No wool fits over his eyes, no matter how well it's knitted.

“Nightmare. Bad.”

The hand on your hair stills at the tremble in your voice and the way your bottom lip wobbles. You bite down on it hard to keep from making a sound, feeling awful about the fact that you have woken Uncle Wayne up. The pullout bed is small but Uncle Wayne shuffles back as far as he can and pats the slim vacant space.

"C'mon, in y'get."

At your blank expression, Uncle Wayne smiles with all the patience of the world. He has been through so much and he carries daily with him a great deal of anger due to how the world has treated him his whole damn life, not to mention what it's doing to his boy, and yet he's still so kind. You never fail to be able to draw strength from the inspiration he gives you. "You really think my boy hasn't crawled into bed with me after a nightmare? He might be twenty, but he's still my baby. You don't have to, darlin', but I know that look on your face. I seen it on my boy's so many times right before he crawls in." A pause, a wry smile as if he knows how to really convince you, then, "he did it just last week, last I can remember."

Uncle Wayne sees the second he manages to coax you into it, and it makes him smile. You're careful as you ease into his bed, not wanting to get in his way or be intrusive, but Uncle Wayne makes no fuss about it and simply lays there until you're comfortable. He lets you wrap an arm around him, he lets you nuzzle into that red and blue flannel you love so well, and then he holds you too, his grip tight, firm, his hands hot on your upper arm. He wonders where his baby is, but he knows that you haven't woken him up. The chainsaw snore coming from just down the hall gives you away and you and Uncle Wayne laugh quietly together. Somewhere in the back of your mind, your brain presses record on the sound, wanting to cherish it forevermore.

"Do you think if we ripped an actual chainsaw next to his window he'd sleep through it?"

Uncle Wayne chuckles, fondness saturating his voice, "Far as I know, he still can. Did it when he was fourteen; had to cut a tree back near his window. Was worried I'd wake him, but he slept right through." A smile soaked Uncle Wayne's next words in sunshine, "My boy's grown into himself but his nature ain't changed back from when he was a kid." My Eddie's forever, he thinks.

The humour, always in the serious if one tilts their head, fades away and you're once again left with the fact that Uncle Wayne has selflessly stepped up for someone yet again. You wonder who steps up for him when the time comes. Between you and Eddie, Uncle Wayne's chances are golden.

"You never answered my question, sweetpea," Uncle Wayne dropped a kiss to your forehead. It was more like the press of facial hair to your skin than anything else, but it warmed you from the inside out all the same. "What monsters you been tryna' fight'?" Despite the way he words it, you hear the underlying message immediately:

Talk to me.

You draw in a shuddering breath but Uncle Wayne, who is secretly more of a parental figure to you than either of your parents put together, doesn't try to soothe you beyond how he already is. He lets you cry, he lets you curl into him like he's your protection from the world (he is, even when everything is okay), he lets you take your time in telling him everything, and the entire time he has you wrapped in his arms, pressed tight into his chest. When the nightmare is relived and you're still crying, he addresses his main concern.

"You wanna go back to Eddie, darlin'?" You freeze, thinking that perhaps this is Uncle Wayne's gentle attempt to get rid of you, but he shakes his head when he feels you tense up. "Easy, sweetpea, I ain't meanin' it like that," He squeezes his arms around you and drops a proper kiss to your forehead. "But my boy is gonna' be missin' you. You know he wakes up at the drop of a hat if either of us ain't there with him."

"No," your bottom lip wobbles and more tears drip down your face. Uncle Wayne's calloused thumb wipes them away gently. "I mean... I want Eddie but... Don't wanna leave you." The last four words are quieter than the rest, broken, your bottom lip and chin trembling. You feel sick at the thought of having to pull away from Uncle Wayne, even though you really want Eddie too. But you want Uncle Wayne. "Please don't make me go, please. Don't wanna leave you." You hold onto Uncle Wayne even tighter, crying harder now than you have done ever since you jolted awake, and Uncle Wayne is quick to soothe you.

"Hey, now," Uncle Wayne hushed, hugging you somehow even more securely to him so that you can feel his heart, slow and steady, thumping deep within his chest. It's in the Munson Doctrine that if Uncle Wayne isn't worrying, then everything is okay. His heart is steady, he is okay, and so shall you be. You take an instinctive deep breath and melt. "I said nothin' about leavin'. But you need Eddie, sweetheart. C'mon, I'll go too."

You shake your head again, "N-no, I woke you up. You need sleep. M'okay." Your cheeks burn as Uncle Wayne gives you The Look™️, which always brings you and Eddie to a grinding halt. This is in the Munson Doctrine too; never tell Uncle Wayne that you're fine if you're not. He knows. He always knows.

"I'm coming with you, darlin'. I ain't sleepin' 'til I know you're okay. It ain't a discussion, Y/N."

He pats your shoulder gently and you very reluctantly untangle yourself from him, the urge to cry still very much with you even as your tears start to slow. Uncle Wayne sees your face begin to crumple, ready are you to cry anew, and he stands up with an exaggerated groan, making you giggle. Only a Munson could make you smile while you're crying. Already can you feel the remnants of the nightmare beginning to dissipate and you lean into Uncle Wayne's side as he slots your hands together, walking with you through the trailer into Eddie's bedroom.

Your home away from home.

Uncle Wayne raises a hand and raps on the door three times with the knuckle of his littlest finger and there's a sleepy groan from within which is so perfectly Eddie that it makes the two of you huff laughter. "Y'decent, boy?"

A louder, slightly more exaggerated groan has Uncle Wayne's shoulders shaking with laughter as he pushes the door open, stepping into Eddie's room and pulling you along behind him. You keep your hand tight in his, eyes roaming over the bed as you try to figure out if three adults could fit comfortably onto one bed.

You do not want to let go of Uncle Wayne.

You don't know why. You don't care why. You just want him to stay.

"E-Eddie?" Your voice is thick with all the tears you have shed thus far, and all the tears you have yet to let go of. He doesn't answer you right away and you whimper, which makes both Munsons freeze.

Eddie sits upright like he's on a spring, arms already reaching for you just as Uncle Wayne walks with you across the room, making a beeline for his son and the love of your life.

"Whoa whoa, hey,"

"Hush now, darlin',"

The Munsons simultaneously speak at a level volume to each other so it's a symphony of empathy and love and it triggers a third crying spell within you.

"Get up on the bed, sweetpea, that's it," Uncle Wayne guides you through glassy vision to sit beside Eddie on the bed. Eddie is brushing sleep out of his gorgeous chocolate brown eyes with one hand and he reaches for you with the other, trying to physically wake himself up and comfort you at the same time. "You got 'em, Eddie?"

"Always."

He speaks the word like a vow and it makes you smile.

The expression on your face dies as quickly as it is born, for Uncle Wayne slides his fingers out from between yours and pats your shoulder in a parting gesture. Panic seizes your heart and you grab at him, your fingers finding purchase in the sleeve of that flannel you love so much. "No!!!!" Yet again, the noise you make causes both Munsons to freeze. "No, please don't go! Please don't leave me, Uncle Wayne. Please stay, pl - " You're incoherent in your physical exhaustion and in the remnants of your fear, as well as your physical need for Uncle Wayne.

You're wrapped up in Eddie's arms, his lips at your hairline and his hands rubbing up and down wherever he can reach but even here, you are still shaking like a leaf, one hand holding Eddie in a death grip and the other still holding onto Uncle Wayne's sleeve. When he doesn't move away, your fingers spider down to grip onto his fingers, locking your hands together like you did before. Uncle Wayne blinks hard - a gesture Eddie recognises as his trying not to cry - and something slides into place for the younger Munson.

All at once, around his horrified curiosity about what you had been dreaming about to render you into a shaking crying wreck, Eddie knows exactly what you need to get you feeling safe and secure.

"Dad." His voice is quiet, more serious than you've heard him in a long time, "Can't you stay, just for tonight?"

The thought of this makes you smile even as a few more tears slip down your cheeks, and tender blues and chocolate browns zero in on the expression.

"Is that - "

"Did you just - "

" - a smile?"

The Munson men almost speak over each other in exaggerated tones of surprise and it makes you giggle, a wet yet very welcome sound. In turn, this makes Eddie smile, and seeing both of his kids at once expressing happiness? Why, how can Uncle Wayne deny either of you anything, even when he's tired as all hell from his twelve hour shift and interrupted night of sleep? There are many things lacking in the Munson household but the one thing they have always had in abundance is love. And if what you both want right now is for him to stay with you, then who is he to say no? The fact that something as simple as his presence is enough to chase your fears away warms Uncle Wayne's heart right to its centre, and he feels deep within him that you're gonna be an official Munson one day. You're honourary for now, but he knows what's coming, and he's so excited.

"I think it is, son, clear as day after all them tears," Uncle Wayne carefully pulls his hand away from you as Eddie scoots across the bed towards the side closest to the window. "I ain't gonna say no to that."

You push up closer to Eddie as Uncle Wayne sits down and then eases himself down onto the mattress, getting comfortable. You have a playfully wriggly Munson either side of you and you know they're playing up to make you feel better, to keep you smiling, but you also see now where Eddie gets his dramatics from. All of Eddie really has come from Uncle Wayne, hasn't it?

Eddie wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight into him, and Uncle Wayne remains where he is on the side of the bed closest to the door; he doesn't move much in his sleep, his body used to the slim pull-out bed he's been sleeping on since he legally adoped Eddie well over a decade ago.

"Aren't you gonna come closer to us, dad?"

"How close is closer?" Uncle Wayne tilts his head at Eddie, who only grins and looks at you, effectively putting you on the spot as they allow you to decide what kind of cuddle you want.

You pause and listen to yourself, your eyes closing as you try to get that little voice in the back of your head to tell you what you want. One word drifts across the front of your mind and it jumps off the tip of your tongue, as if it's afraid it will be swallowed if it doesn't voice itself now.

"Sandwich." A pause and then, "wait, no. Toastie." Your words are strange but you are understood; hold me so tight that if you are bread and I am cheese, I will melt between you.

Uncle Wayne smiles and scoots closer to you and to Eddie, wrapping an arm around you. His hand rests on Eddie's wrist as the two of them surround you. "Come on, then, butter up."

His chuckle punctuates Eddie's drawn out groan; only a good pun is met with that kind of reaction. "Of all the puns available, you go with butter? Really?"

Uncle Wayne shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It makes him look younger and you melt; the Munsons have both had such difficult lives, and where Uncle Wayne is full of anger, he is only ever kind... life lessons he has imparted onto Eddie, whom makes his dad proud every single day. You had told Eddie once that he was living up to the Munson name, and before that flash of indignation and confusion turned into hurt, you had listed all the ways you see Uncle Wayne in him, and Eddie had lit up like a Christmas tree. It is one of your most treasured memories.

You take advantage of the rare moment offered to you by the world after such an awful nightmare and cuddle into Uncle Wayne, pressing your face into that red and blue flannel you love so well. He hums and presses his lips to your forehead, not exactly giving you a kiss but the sentiment is the same. Eddie rolls so that he is cuddled into your back, his nose pressed into the nape of your neck. Uncle Wayne's hand spiders across Eddie's wrist more firmly, grasping his boy to him, and Eddie tilts that same hand palm up so that he can hold his Uncle's wrist, too. The Munsons feel each other's heartbeats pounding firmly underneath skin and it soothes the both of them more than anything else in the world ever will.

You smile into the articial darkness afforded to you by Uncle Wayne's chest. "Ask your dad when I'm asleep, Eddie. Don't wanna relive a third time."

"Wh - how did - I didn't even say anything, sweetheart." Eddie's voice was bemused and you grin, somehow managing to cuddle into Uncle Wayne and pull backwards into Eddie at the same time.

"Didn't have to - I can hear you thinking over there."

"Wondered what that burning smell was," Uncle Wayne playfully wrinkles his nose and the three of you share quiet laughter, marvelling at the power of being able to laugh even when one of you is coming down from an experience of visceral terror.

You burrow down once more, nosing into Uncle Wayne's flannel to get as close to him as you physically can, and Eddie follows you across the minute space left between you so that you become the cheese toastie you have mentioned wanting to become this night and, truthfully, every night. The two people you love most of all surround you now, keep you safe from harm even and especially from your own mind, and you fall asleep to the persistent but gentle vibration of Uncle Wayne's voice through his chest as he begins to tell Eddie all about your nightmare, four arms tightly around you. The scruff of Uncle Wayne's facial hair tickles the top of your head and you feel Eddie pressed tightly against your neck, his heart pounding there. You feel Uncle Wayne's slower and steadier one against your front and you emit a sleepy sound which gives both Munsons pause, one look of fondness and one look of nothing but love on their faces as they look down at you.

Uncle Wayne finishes relaying your nightmare to Eddie and the younger Munson winces with a muttered, "jesus christ" as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, "no wonder they couldn't calm down."

"Sure as hell seems like they found peace now, son," Uncle Wayne's tone is gruff, his words, tender heart and eyes kind, "how about we join 'em?"

Eddie nods and squeezes Uncle Wayne's hand; this is not the first night the two Munsons have fallen asleep holding hands and it sure as shit won't be the last. Oceanic blues and chocolate browns blink tiredly at one another and then close as all three Munsons find comfort, safety, security and love with one another.

Just as it's meant to be; the three Munsons against the rest of the world.

POSTING THIS LINE OF TEXT BECAUSE TUMBLR KEEPS EATING ENDINGS???

[sentientgolfball]

Hello! Sorry to do this on anon 😅 I had a fic request!! I’ve been going through a really really rough time recently and all I’ve been needing is a Mountain/GN!Reader/Rain comfort fic with a reader with chronic pain 🥺 I appreciate you reading and, no matter what, thank you for your time!!

aw I am very sorry to hear that :(( I hope this can make you feel just a lil bit better <3

Enjoy some soft Mountain and Rain

My requests are open !

You crack open your eyes and immediately know what kind of day it’s going to be. You can feel the chill of the room on your face. You can hear the rain pouring down outside. You can feel the deep ache of your joints and you haven’t even moved yet. You thought maybe if you just laid in bed a little bit longer then the pain would go away, that you were just sore from sleeping in a weird position. When the pain persists you completely flipped your thinking, maybe you actually needed to get up and stretch. Yea that was definitely it. You sit up and quickly realize that was a mistake. It feels like there are a million tiny shards of glass trying to worm their way into your brain. 

You clutch your head and groan, screwing your eyes shut at the pain. You lay back down and bury your head under the pillows. You breathe deeply through your nose waiting for the pain to dull down. While you wait you do the only thing you can. You get upset. At everything. You curse the summer for dying away into autumn. You hate the feeling of the cold seeping deep within your body. You hate the rain for deciding to come now that the warm weather is over. You curse your body for reacting this way. You hate that you can’t enjoy the changing of the season because with every change in temperature comes days like these. Days where it’s too hard for you to move, to think, to just be able to function. 

A sharp throb pulses through your whole body and you whine realizing you definitely weren’t going to be able to work today. You blindly reach for your phone, not even bothering to remove your head from the pillows. You look at the screen when you grab it and it hurts. You quickly text the head librarian your situation and throw your phone back on your nightstand not even bothering to wait for a response. The longer you looked at the screen the more sick you felt. 

You laid like that for hours. You didn’t have the energy to even attempt to get up and do anything that might help with the ache. There were a couple times you tried to move when the ache seemed to die down, but doing so only made it flare right back up. So you stayed there with your head buried under pillows barely able to think. And then you heard your phone buzz. You ignored it the first time, but then it kept going off. You were starting to get annoyed at the noise. You reached up and grabbed it with the intent to put it on do not disturb. That was until you saw who was blowing up your phone. It was Rain. 

Did you stay up too late lol you weren’t here to greet me

Decided to skip work? Can’t blame you it’s nice outside

Are you alive?

…No seriously I’m worried are you ok? 

You wanted to reply but just as you tapped on the messages your head exploded in a thumping ache. You cursed and threw your phone day willing to settle just long enough to type a coherent sentence back to the water ghoul. You crack your eyes open when you feel your phone buzz again. 

I’m on my way. 

You slump back down and groan. You hated making him worry. You hated making any of the Siblings or ghouls worry. You wanted so badly to be able to just push all the pain away and get through your day with a smile. But the logical side of you screamed and begged to let them help you, let them worry and care for you. 

That side ended up winning when you heard a soft knock at your door. You mumbled a half hearted ‘come in’ and hissed when the light were turned on. 

“Shit sorry.” You heard Rain say before the lights were flicked off once more. 

You hear him walk over before the mattress dips with his added weight. You feel his hand start to rub firm but soothing circles into your back.

“Bad day?” 

“You have no idea.” 

“Have you eaten?”

You shake your head

“Drank?” 

You shake your head 

“Moved at all?” 

You shake your head 

He sighs and there's a moment of silence as he pulls out his phone and quickly types something. When he’s done he sits it on the nightstand next to yours before standing. He carefully removes the pillow from your head and peels the blankets off of you. He gently hooks his arms under you and picks you up with ease holding you close to him. He carries you to the bathroom and puts you down on the edge of the tub. He makes sure you're stable enough before pulling away and gently placing a kiss on your forehead. 

He quickly lights a few non-scented candles before gathering various soaps and other care products. He begins to fill the tub adding a few cups of bath salts to the water. You can already feel the heat coming off the water as Rain crouches in front of you. He slowly brings his hands to the bottom of your shirt and waits for your permission. You run a hand through his hair and nod. He smiles affectionately at you as he carefully undresses you and then himself. 

He dips into the tub first, settling back against the tile before gently pulling you in with him. You sigh heavily, feeling the hot water envelop you as you lean against Rain’s chest. You sit heavily against him putting all your weight on him as he begins to slowly massage your shoulders, working his way down your arms. You feel his tail squeeze around one of your legs and the pressure feels amazing. 

After a while of just sitting there, letting the water cradle you as Rain works his hands over every joint, he eventually scoops some water to pour over your hair. He gently runs his claws against your scalp when he’s satisfied before grabbing your favorite shampoo and lathering it into your hair. You hum in gratitude as he works his hands through, being sure to rub some gentle circles against your temples. When he’s finished he once again scoops some water into his hands to rinse the soap out. 

As he’s doing this you hear a knock on the bathroom door. 

“Right on time.” Rain says repositioning you so he can hop out of the bath. 

You watch bleary eyed as he wraps a towel around his waist and cracks open the door. He whispers something you can’t make out and nods his head with a slight smile. When he turns around after closing the door he has some clothes. One bundle is lounge wear you’ve seen the water ghoul wear hundreds of times, but the other is a massive sweatshirt and an extra pair of Rain’s sweatpants. Rain sets them down on the counter before walking over to the bath and hoisting you up. 

“Mountains waiting for us” he whispers and presses a kiss to your cheek “he brought something special for you.” 

You allow Rain to dry you off before you get dressed in the clothes brought for you. Moutain’s sweater and Rain’s sweatpants. When you’re ready he takes your hand and walks with you back to your bedroom. You’re greeted to the sight of Mounatin sitting on your bed smiling softly. There’s a tray on your nightstand with three mugs, steam rolling off of them. You can smell the herbaceous scent from where you stand. You notice there’s an added blanket on your bed and you nearly cry when you realize it’s heated. 

You practically slump against the earth ghoul who carefully pulls you against him as he leans back and against the headboard. He pulls the blanket over you as Rain hands you and Mountain your respective mugs. He takes his own before walking around to the other side of the bed to get under the covers. He slides in right next to Mountain who pulls him closer to you two, wrapping a massive arm around his shoulders. 

You take a sip of the tea and practically moan at the taste. Mountain chuckles and takes a sip from his own mug. 

“Like it? It’s a new blend I’m testing. Rain said it helped him so I thought you’d want some.” 

“It’s perfect Mounty.” You hum taking another long drink. 

When you finish Mountain takes the empty mug from you and lays off to the side. He holds you close to him letting the pressure of his arms wrap around you. The combination of the tea, the heated blanket, and two ghouls happily purring away make your eyes feel heavy. 

“Tired?” Rain says snuggling in closer, giving you a few soft kisses before nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. 

You nod, pulling Mountain’s arm tighter around you, resting your head on his chest. He kisses the top of your head. 

“Go to sleep, wildflower. Rain and I will stay as long as you need us.” 

You and mutter an incoherent form of ‘thank you’ before closing your eyes. The two ghouls laugh and twine their tails together, resting them on top of you. 

“Sleep well.”

“We’ll be right here whenever you need us.” 

[pensbridgrton]

I promise I don't mean to insult you or any ill intent, but I read your post about Colin being Penelope's prize and just wanted to say that the moment I saw the S3 plot, I thought it would be a Regency retelling of your fic dress (which I adore and read daily) 🙈 🙈 I know that when Nicola speaks about Polin it might seem that way, but Luke's interviews have me hopeful for good Colin development, and if it's even half like a Regency version of your story I'll be THRILLED. I hope the season leaves us happy :)

Follow up - I know the plot of dress isn't Pen needing lessons to find suitors but anyway okay maybe you're right and my hope for S3 was wistful thinking 🥺 🙈

Now listen - the moment the plot summary was revealed for S3, I kept saying to myself... wait, this is regency Dress! So yes, I do want that to happen really badly.

My problem is, after two seasons of this show, I know what they prioritize and how they tend to structure their writing, and it doesn't align with what I prefer and would like to see. And that's fine, the show has a different tone and purpose and narration that they want to tell. I'm pretty sure it'll be a decent season of television, casuals will eat it up, and I'll have a good time turning off my brain and watch Nicola and Newts kill it.

But I won't love Colin and Penelope in the show as much as their characters in the books (they're already so different and while they have potential to be absolutely excellent, I don't think they will reach that potential for me... especially since it'll require retconning a lot of Colin - or at least providing sneaky flashbacks of him actually being a matchmaker - and a more character-driven arc for Penelope that the show would never do because they are plot-driven). I do think I'll enjoy the show! I just have a gut feeling that Colin's development won't reach nearly the depth of the books (because if they actually kept the jealousy of Pen's legacy plot I would SCREAM in excitement but I doubt it) because again, the show prioritizes scandal and plot - and all of that means focusing on Colin groveling and Penelope being LW.

Having said all of this - I try to keep my expectations very low because both S1 and S2 disappointed me in regards to Penelope/Colin and them as individuals, so it's hard for me to have hope (except when Nic and Newts talk... they're what's keeping me here). But I would LOVE to be wrong and absolutely love everything about S3 and its direction and the depth and care of the arcs presented. But I've accepted that my Modern AU fic is probably gonna be WAY more in character than the show's out-of-character fanfic that emphasizes groveling, spice, and scandal over the growth and imperfections of the book.

But if S3 really is just regency "Dress" I expect royalties.

[dayseternal-blog]

Okies, here's my NaruHina Fair wrap-up bingo card 😭💝 The month went by way too quickly. THANK YOU everyone who participated for all the wonderful NaruHina fics and art and moodboards and other stuff!!! Even if it's not on this list, I enjoyed everything I saw and read 💖 I loved reflecting on NH Fair last year, and this Bingo card gave me a way to think more deeply about everyone's work again this year 🔎

This SHOULD NOT be opened in public *opens it anyway* - @iamdslr's nsfw art that she surprised us all with on discord 🔥🤯 absolutely gorgeous depiction of one of my fave positions 🙈 sorry tmi

Flooding this artist with tons of notifications - @shirii My fave was definitely the Evil AU!!! So cute, so evil. A perfect art to match madglow's "A New Dawn" fic! Also I love how saturated the colors are in shirii's art.

I've lost count to how many times I've seen/read this. AND I'LL DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN - "Cruel Angel" by @sessakag The horror and the smut is just soooo Sessakag-style. Like no one else could have possibly written this. Also I don't know who suggested "the world's ending and you're far from your love," but I thought the prompt sounded impossible, and you know what, Sessakag can write the impossible.

Had a bad day but seeing this made it better - "For Ruin and the World's Ending" by @badluckbrebis thank u for reposting this because it seems like I completely missed/forgot about this, it seemed new to me 😓 I love it so much, the description of their world is so vibrant, and yeah, an update from you makes life so much better 🥺💕 !!!

THIS IS WHAT TRUE LOVE LOOKS LIKE - @diyas-diaries-98 All of the short stories in "NaruHina Month 2023" are so cute and stars-in-their-eyes in love, but my fave is "Me in Your Eyes"!! The prompt is already a foundation for the fandom, but you took it to the next level in describing how they see each other🤩

THIS DESERVES TO BE SEEN BY ALL *shares work multiple times* - I have recommended @wickermayne's "Chicken Ramen for the Pervert's Soul" several times, and I will do it again!!! Actually I think "Hinata (Light Femdom)" is the first fic I read/commented on for you....anyway, I love, love, love it. Will always love it.

This is so silly. I LOVE IT! - "Things that Moan in the Night" is just....wow. honestly it was a toss-up between the cold shower and this bingo square, but in the end, it's a really fun smutty fic for me that's experimental in a way most smut fics aren't. I love the writing challenge of switching pov's, especially to 2nd pov.

It's not enough for me to see/read it. I NEED TO EAT IT TO BECOME A PART OF ME! - @lavvdil's "devouring you" for the beauty and the beast prompt!! Hinata's just gorgeous!! I would so love to write that kind of NaruHina, the Naruto who's so close to the demon itself, the Hinata who's so precious to the demon... reminds me of utsu's fic "Monster of the Tales". then @avbocetos's "Kiss the byakugan princess!" art is so, so lovely, the blank period/The Last NaruHina kiss is soooo passionate, and mmmmmm I want to write that so badly. That kind of heart-pounding kiss!

it's sooooo FLUFFY! - "My #1 Supporter" by shineofdawn, ohhh my gosh, so I'm already a sucker for pianist Hinata. But just the way shineofdawn was able to have Hinata's piano music be a support for badminton player Naruto, the connection is so wonderful 😭 and "Promise Rings" by @powerful-niya has gotta be the fluffiest thing Niya has ever written. It's sooo...ugh, love!!! They're in love and promising themselves to each other for forever and it's perfect!!!

FREE - @bornonthebreakofdawn's tanka for "Me in Your Eyes" prompt. I love born's poetry, but this one hit it out of the ballpark for me. In such few words, born touched on how sensitive Naruto must be in the way people look at him, and how different and special it must've been when he saw how Hinata looks at him. Something to ruminate on.

You've already left a kudos/like - @cherpring's "Marriage (Thai Culture)" art!!!! I love seeing NaruHina in different cultures, and then on top of that, this art has so many interesting details, the cushions (?), Naruto's pants, the flowers, their pins... I love their little blushes!!! Definitely one of my fave arts of this month.

I need a cold shower - "Another Baby" by Its_Levioooosaa got me invested, I loved how excited they were 😳 and "Dark Circles" by @bunny-hoodlum ahhhhhhh how exhausted but turned on Naruto was, like, yes, I love that energy!!!

IT WAS NOT FINE - What Is This Heartbreak in "Don't Deny Me" by Imanga 😭💔 "Oh, I can't handle angst" she says, "I don't know how you guys can read so much angst" she says. What a liar lol

OMG they replied to my comment!!! - So by far, the longest comment I left this month was for @nightowl27-writer's "Weird Hinata" because imo it was really just the tightest and most skillful writing all month. There was so much to analyze in every line, the relationship between them was so complex, nightowl developed their characters so well!!! I was so happy that nightowl read and replied to my comment 🙈

This fic is incomplete and I shall never rest again - "Free Day!" by @opttagoyeo was the one that got me in a chokehold. What does Kurama MEAN that Hinata might be one of them??? The other fics in "NH Month 2023" are great, too, but there's a little bit more of a closure for the "Red Strings of Fate" and "Time Travel." Priest!Naruto is like 2 more meetings away from seductress!Hinata pulling his pants down and giving him the time of his life, but also what is the mystery behind them??? I must know.

Why is this a one-shot? I need 6 seasons and a movie! - "A New Dawn" by madglow and "ready or not" by @secrettastemakerland, I am so impressed at how they crammed entire gigantic plots that could SERIOUSLY be 2 hour long movies into short fics. How. Just how did they do that. I'm left wanting more!! And also, I'm terribly jealous, like, I wish I could write my ideas that well. "A New Dawn" is the Akatsuki!NaruHina the fandom's been waiting for and "ready or not" AHHHH fox!Naruto!!!!! I just, love fox Naruto. So does Hinata.

How do I ask for an update without asking for an update? - Bunny!!!!! BunnyHoodlum wrote yoga!Hinata and yet another, new troubled!Naruto unlike one we've ever seen before in "Handsy" and I'm so in love with Bunny's writing ughhhhhhhhh, how Naruto is a yes man, how he's so all-over-the-place, and then Hinata, the good girl, rich girl, out-of-his-reach girl!!! This fic hits soo many things for me!

I am drowning in tears and may never recover - @golubhat's "Goodbye Naruto-kun..." art for war and love... you know NaruHina month had barely started, and golubhat just throws this at us from the get-go. That lost look in Naruto's eyes...jeez louise my gosh....the tears...the way he's gripping her head... on the flipside, my fave golubhat art this month was the Soviet high school students au!!!!!!, like, tell me more about that!!!!

11pm is a great time to start a 100k slow burn - I know Powerful_Niya's "Reckless Love" 2-shot probably isn't 100k, but it's definitely on the longer side of fics posted this month, and I did start reading it around 11:00. Anyway, delinquent!Naruto and angelic!Hinata are to-die-for in this fic. They are both down bad for each other and practically in denial about it!!

I don't think I'll be able to sleep well after that - @spaciousignatius posts NaruHina fanfics like...maaaybe once a year, and "Taken" is so terribly melancholy yet so worth the wait 😭 I love it and just hope that Naruto and/or Hinata somehow gets even against these military guys.

Wow, that might haunt me in my dreams - and I mean this in a good way. Just like born's tanka, @opal-chan's "Rage Room" got me thinking... on family, forgiveness, internalizing feelings versus externalization. Opal-chan does a fantastic job with portraying the Hyuuga clan in such a raw way.

[oceisastar]

surprise, it's kaveh,,,

,,, again!

a/n reader has some typa vision loll

the existence of mehrak makes me think so hard,,, like what else is kaveh capable of,,, i know he likely found her in the desert, and she's some ancient tech, but he's not an idiot... surely he has studied mehrak, knows what makes her tick,,,

just like how you know the best spots to touch him at and the right words to make him melt<33

nngh but kaveh is so smart!!,,, i know he could make himself his own toy!! maybe it's even almost it's own entity, kind of like mehrak but minus the sentience, where he can control if it vibrates or if it fucks him with only a flick of his wrist,,,

but ofc he can't make himself cum as well as you do!! no artifical object can call him your good boy like you do, or hold him hand as you fuck him, or kiss him as tenderly as you move your hips...

and oh imagine kaveh teaching you how to use the toy. he teaches you how to use your vision to make it float, to make it vibrate at different speeds and intensities, to even teleport from hand to hand,,,

but eventually he almost regrets teaching you,,,

keyword: almost.

you have learned to use kaveh's toy and you've learned to use it well. he melts beneath you, shivering and moaning and reaching out for you—hugs that you always, always return—when you run the vibe along his dick... the obscene sounds of the vibe fade away to the background as all kaveh can hear is you whispering sweet, loving things in his ear between each hickey you tenderly suck into his neck!! as you coax him to his orgasm, he pleads you to do the trick he showed you—one where you rhythmically tap the toy as it vibrates—,,,

except your beloved forgot to consider how your voice alone, often paired with love declarations and always tender love, could make him cum on the spot<33 so when you begin tapping the vibe between each syllable of "c'mon, come for me, songbird, my kaveh," he comes immediately and so intensely and beautifully<333

and if he looks at you after, a gorgeous wreck still shivering from aftershocks, and begs you, "one more?," one more time to say "my kaveh?," who are you to say no?;]

kaveh one chance pls

also out of morbid curiosity, are there any kinks beyond like praise or smth that ur into? thirst-wise. like uhhh tentacles. a/b/o stuff. bondage!! overstim. sensory deprivation. so on. it's rlly not that hard to make so many of these soft and tender lmao so it does upset me sometimes that there's so little like loving bandage or wtv 🤧

MDNI

I’m picturing reader w an anemo vision for this. like making the toy float in the air

I love this 😭😭 him needing u bc it’s u that makes him feel good. your presence and words and just you. not just the toy

hugging him 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I’m crying. I love this so much

cumming from someone’s voice alone 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥵

so much delightful softness. I enjoy this dynamic a lot. it’s refreshing. I love how loving it is. fills my heart with adoration.

~

tw ??? discussion of some intense kinks

I’m gonna be so straight w u I don’t really understand a/b/o but I do enjoy the concept of heat. I think it’s very sexy. (don’t explain a/b/o to me further I don’t want to know lmao) just the idea of not being in control of yourself and needing so badly is so hot to me. abt the desperation and need (and usually yearning) that ensues in the fics I’ve read w/ it. I don’t care much for the alpha/omega aspect of it tho. it’s more abt the need and desire than that power dynamic.

I’m into other stuff too but I won’t give too much away. bondage and tentacles etc aren’t my thing — I’m not a fan of restrictive stuff. I can see what u mean abt there not being enough tender stuff w it! it’s usually really centered around degradation etc which is not great.

I really have a strong fixation on tiddies tbh I want to suck on them soooooo bad (esp women <3). not bite them but suck on them bc didkskskal

this one is pretty specific but smth abt sniffing undies is so <3 it’s sooooo sexy and naughty to me. like the character just burying their face in a pair of mc’s underwear and getting off is soooooo hot to me.

I also (depending on my mood) like somnophilia. again, back to the desperation piece — just needing ur partner so bad u can’t wait to eat them out and they wake up moaning and grinding in ur face. even better if they cum while asleep 🤤

[tadpolesonalgae]

Before I start yapping about CBMTHY, I just read On the Wrong Side of History and why does nobody talk about it??😧😧

IT WAS SO GOOD? the miscarriage part is what made me actually read it and the fact that the reader is from hybern! I NEVER see a reader from. Hybern and I guess no body writes about it because well we don’t know anything about the island expect that the king was pure evil and his people were also that way? (I mean because of the King ofc, we have a saying in my language that is basically like ‘a person changes because of they company they stay with’ it’s very roughly translated so I apologise 😶)

BUT, what I basically want to say is the whole plot is so interesting! I do not know if you’d continue the series (with all the series you have ongoing I don’t even know if you think about this one that often 😭😭)

also with it being a azriel x reader fic.. I’m kinda sad because that means that the reader will stay in Prythain 🥺 (if they have a happy ending, I hope they don’t and the reader chooses to go back to her own country after opening trade relations with prythian again)

like I love a strong reader who is not easily influenced by others opinions and that’s the kind of vibe that ‘On the wrong side of history’s mc gives?? (Yes I concluded that after see a glimpse of what she is like 👍🏻)

BUT FROM THE TITLE , It’s obvious that the reader is supposed to be queen of hybern?? Is she😃

and the other thing is that if you do decide to continue this fic and if it does go the way it’s going in my head then it would probably be too long and it would be like writing a book 😭😭

Is it very obvious that I have my brain rotting over this fic and it’s plot ??😵‍💫😵‍💫

I’m going to send another ask in about CBMTHY because this ended up longer than I thought it would be lmao

🧍‍♀️

‘and the fact that the reader is from hybern! I NEVER see a reader from. Hybern and I guess no body writes about it because well we don’t know anything about the island expect that the king was pure evil and his people were also that way?’

Babes I want so badly to write more stuff from unusual perspectives? Like what would it be like to be a faerie in the Autumn Court that seems so hierarchical and elitist? Being an Illyrian from the deeper parts of Illyria and what it’s like further inside their land? A reader from the continent and how Prythian might seem kind of quaint compared to the expanse of Rask? I also dearly want to explore more ‘folklore’ themes? Like the Spring Court was so magical in the first book??? And also more Hybern stuff I think would be so fun and i’m so so so happy you enjoyed On The Wrong Side Of History!!!

‘(I mean because of the King ofc, we have a saying in my language that is basically like ‘a person changes because of they company they stay with’ it’s very roughly translated so I apologise 😶)’

I’m not sure if ours is a saying but I know there’s that whole ‘there are no bad dogs, just bad owners’ thing which I think might be in a similar vein? Also I’m pretty sure Rhys or someone mentions how the King of Hybern made no effort to establish trade routes so implies he intentionally allowed unrest to gather and for the feeling of injustice to fester so when war came, everybody would be ready and eager for it?

‘BUT, what I basically want to say is the whole plot is so interesting! I do not know if you’d continue the series (with all the series you have ongoing I don’t even know if you think about this one that often 😭😭)’

Honestly the series I think most about is The Other Woman/CoLCoV? Then it’s cbmthy—admittedly I think of OTWSOH from time to time but I haven’t thought out a whole plot or anything like that so it’s relatively underdeveloped in that sense? If I can think of a way to further the story, of course I’ll write it, but I’ll only do a part two if I have a solid outline?

‘also with it being a azriel x reader fic.. I’m kinda sad because that means that the reader will stay in Prythain 🥺’

Uhhh, who said Reader couldn’t return to Hybern and still be with Az? Certainly not me 👀

‘like I love a strong reader who is not easily influenced by others opinions and that’s the kind of vibe that ‘On the wrong side of history’s mc gives??’

Oh did you like The Other Woman? (I did, in a complicated way) My memory is a bit poor in places so I’m sorry if it wasn’t you but I remember someone saying that they particularly enjoyed her abrasive personality and how she was a bit more anti-IC than what’s usual in fanfiction?

‘BUT FROM THE TITLE , It’s obvious that the reader is supposed to be queen of hybern?? Is she😃’

Well it’s kind of ambiguous since Hybern kind of implies that he would make her his queen despite her having no magic if she won the war? So I suppose in that sense she is? Like Hybern basically already accepted her as his Queen so kind of unofficially? But nobody else knows about that, and they also didn’t end up winning, so I suppose it’s more symbolic than legal 😭

‘and the other thing is that if you do decide to continue this fic and if it does go the way it’s going in my head then it would probably be too long and it would be like writing a book 😭😭’

If it did turn into a series I would definitely go about it in the way I’m doing CoLCoV, with limiting it to five/six chapters so I have to pick and choose and be more meticulous over what the plot is how things unfold? I think cbmthy is getting long because in the beginning there were parts I was still unsure about so probably added in scenes that were’t entirely necessary? I’m glad I wrote them but I did take a lot of time and effort 😭

‘Is it very obvious that I have my brain rotting over this fic and its plot ??😵‍💫😵‍💫’

Babes I’m so flattered that you liked it so much!!! I was really excited with the idea so it would be nice to continue it if I come up with a plot 🧡💛

[jackwolfes]

hi! thank you so much for all the fics you write and share i don’t think i’ve ever read one i didn’t completely love!!! I have a request, if you’re open to it: wesper are now making out after lots of pining-as-friends, and jesper can’t shut up about how hot he thinks wylan is, how excited he is, he realizes he’s maybe over sharing or coming on too strong but he cannot help it!!!

you're very sweet darling 🥺 also this was very cute ty for requesting it!!

“Saints,” Jesper whispers. 

Wylan nods, hands still scrambling over the soft fabric covering Jesper’s chest. He’s still half-reclined over the end of the sofa Jesper found him on an hour ago. The one where it all finally came out, that little crush Jesper’s been hiding for weeks — months, maybe a year, he isn’t sure — bitten back by a boy that didn’t want to risk this friendship he had except it all just burst — 

It doesn’t matter, apparently. He’d blurted it all out with a mortifying amount of honesty and Wylan, wide eyed, had just… 

His lips part, firm enough that Jesper’s do the same against his guiding touch. They both groan into each other’s mouths, terribly uncivilised and absolutely wonderful. Wylan had done exactly what he’s doing now, yanking him close to kiss him stupid. It was an answer in itself that Jesper is now cherishing. 

He really, really likes it.

“Saints,” Jesper repeats, “You’re— mm—"

Wylan hums, nodding again. His hands have stopped their frenetic dance, deciding instead to grip tight to Jesper’s sweater. He uses his grip to pull him closer, and Jesper does not mind. 

“I’ve— shit, Wy— mm—”

Wylan pulls away. Jesper blinks. That is the opposite of what he wanted to happen. “What?” 

Jesper swallows. Is his face hot? He thinks so. Wylan’s is flushed a beautiful bright pink. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for months,” he admits. 

Slowly, Wylan nods. “Okay,” he says, “then kiss me.” 

Jesper does. 

He leans down, still mostly hovering over Wylan, eagerly sinking into the feeling of his best friend’s soft hands on his chest. He grazes his teeth over Wylan’s bottom lip, relishing the little gasp he gets for his trouble and using the opportunity to sink his tongue into his mouth. Wylan squirms beneath Jesper. His body is so warm. His lips, kissing Jeper back like he’s starving, are even warmer. Jesper wants to pull away and just appreciate the sight of him, knowing that his lips will be slick and his body will be flushed, ust like he knows that he’s wanted to see Wylan like this for weeks. Months. Maybe even a year. 

“Saints,” Jesper gasps, “you’re so— so—“

Wylan lifts his hands and settles them around Jesper’s neck, linking his fingers together and yanking Jesper close. It makes Jesper gasp, a muffled noise swallowed by Wylan’s kiss. It’s unsubtle, that eager request for more, and Jesper wants so badly to indulge him. He thinks now that he has wanted this for over a year. For decades. For his entire life, perhaps, because how can anyone not want Wylan? Gorgeous Wylan, funny Wylan, excellent kisser Wylan—  

“Wylan,” he sighs, still thinking about how he could possibly finish that sentence. You’re gorgeous, or perhaps, how are you such a good kisser, or even— “Saints, you’re so— mm— hot.”

Quietly, he hears Wylan chuckle. “Says you,” he murmurs. 

“Yeah, says me. You’re—” 

Wylan cuts him off with another kiss, muffling his words and making Jesper hum. Maybe he’s moaning. He doesn’t care. From the feeling of it, Wylan doesn’t either. 

“Wy—”

“Jes,” Wylan whispers, “stop talking.” 

Jesper nods. A good, sensible idea. 

He kisses Wylan one more time and gets a low moan for his trouble, something delicious and beautiful. Jesper sinks into the feeling of his lips sliding over Wylan’s. They’re so soft.  They’re so— perfect. They’re indicative of every wonderful thing Jesper loves about Wylan, this beautiful boy that against all odds wants to kiss him too. Jesper can’t make sense of the fact Wylan wants to kiss him back but he does, evidenced by the hot press of his tongue against the seam of Jesper’s mouth, pressing between his lips and running along the line of his teeth. 

“Fuck,” Jesper breathes out, “I can’t get over how fucking hot you—“

Wylan’s hands against his shoulder are insistent and, before Jesper can make sense of it, he’s being shoved backwards to sit on his heels. He goes, breathing heavily, taking in the heady sight of Wylan spit-slicked and blushing. 

“What are—”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for months,” Wylan blurts. “Oh, Ghezen, I want to kiss you so badly I can’t think. Please stop talking so I can kiss you.” 

Jesper’s face heats, gently mortified. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Wylan says. “Saints, you’re— such a good kisser.” 

“Even though I keep talking?” Jesper asks. 

Wylan nods, eyes still a little wide. “I can’t think straight with you looking like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like that.” Fruitlessly, Wylan gestures at all of Jesper’s body. He shuts his eyes, flush still blooming like a rose on his pale skin. “Ghezen help me, I can’t believe you want to kiss me.” 

Jesper smiles softly, terribly pleased. “Course I do,” he murmurs. “Have you seen yourself?” 

Softly, Wylan groans. “Ghezen help me,” he mutters, voice weak and wonderfully him. It makes Jesper laugh. 

“Want to kiss me again?” Jesper asks, feeling bold.

Wylan sits up, crawling forward till Jesper gets the hint and settles back. He allows Wylan to take the lead, watching him clamber up till he’s sitting on Jesper’s lap. It is a very, very good position to be in. The weight of him straddling Jesper’s thighs, the warmth, the closeness. Jesper adores it all. How lucky he is.

Softly, Wylan kisses his lips once more.  

“I never want to stop kissing you,” he whispers. 

Jesper is very okay with that, too.

[gendervapor14]

i wish SO badly i could join your one piece rarepear server it sounds so amazing, but sadly i dont meet the age requirements yet </3 once i do though i'd absolutely love to be a part of it! and thank you again for that lovely comment you left on my belldoll fic, ive thought about it daily since i saw it <3 im on my way right now to read yours, expect an enthusiastic comment on it soon :3

aAAAAA hello!! i woke up to your lovely comments this morning and almost cried i swear. sorry about the rare pear age requirement, BUT i can send you an invite to our little tumblr community if you want :D it's pretty quiet rn. i think we're all still figuring out how communities work lmao. but yeah. god. you've got me soooo addicted to bell/doll. my brain chemistry changed. i already have another wip in mind for them. this is the start of a new era (kidding) (or am i?) THANK YOUUU for the ask you are so sweet 🥺♥

[emsuemsu]

@hprecfest day 29: post-canon

I had such a hard time to come up with recs for this! I feel like I say that about each and every one of these prompts 🥵 Like I could've had a field day with some good drarry content, but I wanted to talk about some of my favorite next gen/cross gen fics! These are not Cursed Child complaint I guess, since I don't really regard that as canon. Does anyone??? I don't read next gen as much as I'd want to, but these stories have a piece of my heart with them:

oh, i'm gonna let the future in by @thealmostrhetoricalquestion 🩵 41,480 words, scorpius/albus

Al doesn’t know what he’s doing. Not just with the new apartment, but with his life in general, and it doesn't help that his family quietly looks down on him. It feels as if they’re always waiting for him to do something spectacular, but without actually expecting it of him. They’ve given up on expecting anything of him. Al only speaks English, and he sings in the shower, badly. He likes tea, and he cleans when he’s stressed. He sees a therapist. He has a total of two friends, and one of them is his cousin. He isn’t smart; he’s simple. He wishes that could be enough.

🥹 it's been a while since I've related this much to a character in any form of media as I relate to Albus in this fic. And reading the comments to this story it seems like I'm definitely not the only one. That makes me personally feel pretty warm, like okay I'm not the only one who feels like a walking human dumpster fire at times. This is one of my all time favorite fics, I always come back to it for some comfort. It's so real and touching, the first time I read this I had to throw my phone away and sob just finishing the first part of the first chapter. It’s serving some certified middle child vibes. Lovelovelove this.

Brighter Than the Sun by @goldentruth813 🩵 12,842 words, draco/james sirius

James Sirius Potter is gorgeous. He's also half Draco's age. Getting emotionally involved with him would be a complete and utter disaster. Fortunately for Draco, he's had a lifetime of practice compartmentalizing his feelings. Draco can definitely handle fucking James—young, beautiful, rash James Sirius Potter—with no strings attached.

Now when I said I've read smut so good I've cried this is one example of that. This fic is so fucking hot in all the ways and more, I adore both Draco and James in this so much. And it’s not only the smut that gets you good in this fic – it’s the feels also. I’m absolutely wrecked by this fic. Now unfortunately the goorrggeeoouuusss art by @mzuul is no longer available for some reason, I have some hazy memories of the pieces and I’d give my hypothetical first born child to see them again 🥺