#I even went to school there when I was 14

[insomniactic-daydream]

Beside You...

Pro Hero Bakugo ♡ Pro Hero Reader

Friends to Lovers

Summary: Bakugo always held victory close to his heart, but he held you closer.

From being kids in the playground, to freshly new homeowners talking about marriage, and til you both took your last breaths with a smile... you were the thing he held closest.

(This is Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga's fault for cooking up Die With A Smile. Had me in my feels.🫠)

TW: ANGST !! and some suggestive writing but no smut. Read at own risk.

Age 6

Bakugo knew from a young age who he's supposed to be. Even as kids change their future occupation to astronauts to doctors, he never had doubt. He was meant to be a hero. He was meant to protect you.

"Hey! Stop pulling my hair it's not funny!"

The young blonde hears your cries from a mile away as two of the older kids from the playground tug your hair and take your toy away.

"Or what? you're just a pathetic weakling who can't even fight back." The two kids laugh as they continue to torment you.

Suddenly, a big explosion was directed at the two bullies sending them flying. Bakugo had never had such perfect precision with his quirk before. It was his first perfect and biggest shots he's had since his quirk manifestation.

"Die you extras! If you even think about bullying her again, I'll blow you to bits!" He barked like a high squeaking chihuahua standing in front of your body that was thrown down from the blast. Safe to say you never saw those bullies again.

"Get up. Your dress is going to get dirty." Bakugo huffs, sounding angry but still holding his hand out with a blush.

Your eyes widen as you take his hand to get up, and you give him a big hug, causing him to be taken aback.

"You're my hero!"

Bakugo never went to the park without you after that. Not if both of your parents wanted to deal with constant crying/yelling from the two of you...

Age 14

After the U.A. exams, you and Bakugo sit in his room as you hold your head in your hands in defeat.

"Stop sulking. You don't even know if you got rejected yet." He says in his usual huff but still holds your hair back.

You mailed your results to his house so you could open it together.

"Easy for you to say. You had the highest points. I swear it took me forever to get one robot when I was too busy saving others from getting mauled by theirs." Y/n sighs as she reflects on the exams.

"I don't know Kats, I think I did better in the Shiketsu exam than I did U.A. I'll probably only be getting the acceptance there." You groan as you wipe some tears from your face.

"Shut up. You don't know shit yet." He said earning a scoff.

"I know I did dog shit at the exam, and that's enough. Sorry to say, but I don't think we'll be in the same class, or even the same school."

"I'll go to Shiketsu then."

You let out an audible laugh before looking at his face, dropping you smile instantly.

"Holy shit. You're serious?" You say before shaking your head. "No, you can't. Your dream is UA. Don't be switching shit up just because of me." You say before turning your body towards him.

"I don't care where I get my license at. I'm still going to be number one. No matter what. Beside can't be training if your ass is getting into trouble the whole other side of town",He said, rolling his eyes as he looked away from your widened gaze.

"Katsuki-," you say before getting cut off.

"Don't make a big deal out of it, princess." He quips, signaling to you that's the end of the discussion. He's going where you go.

Silence falls between the two of you until the sound of a car is heard right after. You both rush to get the letters and begin to open them. Revealing two holograms of All Might congratulating them on their acceptances to Class 1-A.

You grab him and jump up and down from excitement.

"See you idiot. You were overreacting." He says with his usual smirk. You roll your eyes. Maybe you were being a bit dramatic.

"Yeah, but still.." You say before kissing his cheek, causing him to freeze up. You smile at him.

"Thank you for wanting to cheer me up and wanting to stay by me."

His stares at your beautiful smile before looking away.

"Tch. Always, you big baby." He says before pulling you into his arms as you laugh.

Your romantic relationship didn't wait long after that moment.

Age 22

"Last fucking box." Bakugo grunts putting down the box down in the empty living room filled with the rest of the labeled boxes. While your slumped body lays on the couch, you just assembled.

Something about wanting to make the house feel more homey for the time being or procrastination for unpacking Bakugo calls it. Still, he takes the opportunity to lay next to you.

"Why didn't we just keep our apartment." You groan as you look at him. He glares at you.

"You were the one that suggested buying the house in full, princess." He said. They both earned quite a bit the last year and had money to spare.

"Besides, that place was getting too cramped for all our shit. You know this already." He says before grabbing your face as you pout.

"Ugh, but now we have to unpack all of this." You say as he smushes your cheeks. You wrap your arm around him.

You both lean in for a kiss, embracing the comfort of the couch. You both pull away and sit up, looking at all the boxes.

"Cmon, get your ass up and help me unpack." He says, trying to reach for a box before you blurt out.

"Let's get married today."

Just as he thinks you can never surprise him, you say shit like that.

He was planning on marrying you, like hell he would buy a house just for a girlfriend. You were his first and only, no doubt. But he didn't expect how this would play out.

"What?" He says in a shell-shocked tone.

"The court house doesn't close til 9. We still have time to make it over there. So what do you say." Going up to him with a sheepish smile.

"Fuck no." He says to you while you pause, smile dimming while thinking you misinterpreted his goals with you.

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, it was stupid ide - "You say before getting interrupted.

"Fuck that's not what I meant, Babe." He says before grabbing your pulling away figure.

"I wanna marry your ass, but I'm not doing it at a courthouse just because you're trying to avoid moving into our damn house." He says before peppering you with kisses. His grip on you tightening.

"I just needed to make sure that meant moving into a home meant what I thought it meant." You mumble between kisses. Wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Of course it does, dumbass." He says, deepening the kiss as he walks and pulls you down to the couch. Falling into each other's embrace.

It's definitely a creative way of getting comfortable in the new home.

Age 45

"Fucking shit" Bakugo groans after the building collapsed on the two of you by the villian you both were trying to stop for months now.

"Katsuki." You weakly groan beneath him as the raging headache ensued from the collision of the building.

Bakugo look around them, sighing in relief as he realizes his wife is okay, and so is he. He tries to get but stops when he hears you yelp in pain.

"Stop, don't move, Katsuki!" You breathe tiredly. Only then does Bakugo look down and see the large metal bar piercing the two of you together. It's shocking the two of you are still alive.

Bakugo looks into your eyes as you whimper in pain. His adrenaline is beginning to stop as he winces in pain, too. But he puts on a brave face.

"Shh.. Fuck. It's okay, baby. We're going to get out of here okay, rescue shouldn't take long." He now says breathlessly holding you close.

You smile weakly at him, grabbing caressing his face.

"You're no liar, Katsuki. It's okay." You say while your voice cracks with emotion. He grits his teeth as tears spill out of his eyes.

"I'm sorry... I can't save us this time, baby " He says, choking on tears and blood. Your tears beging to spill, too.

"There was still so much I wanted to do with you." He sobs out as you listen, sobbing too.

"Fuck, we should've stopped ages ago, our stubborn asses. Should've retired early, go on a vacation, fuck maybe even had a child or two." He huffs out in a sad laughter as you both realize just how different your lives could've been if you had stopped being heroes year before.

Maybe your guy's death would have been more peaceful; one with old gray hair and wrinkles.

You give out a weak laugh. Your vision starts to get smaller, so you try to soak up every last detail of your husband's face.

"I don't regret this." You say choking on your blood. He stares lovingly into your eyes. His vision too slowly giving out.

"I loved that I got to spend every moment with you, Kats. I fucking love you're annoying ass so much. I couldn't imagine breathing without you next to me." You say with a weak smile, gasping for air with each pause.

Bakugo weakly smiles back at you as he brushes the debris off your face. Taking your beauty in for the final time.

"Good thing we don't have to" He says his final comeback as he pulls you in and puts his lips on yours.

Taking each other's final breath...

[If] our time on Earth was through, I'd wanna hold you just for a while, and die with a smile.

If the world was ending, I wanna be next to you~♡

Shut up, I'm not crying you are 😭.

It's literally one of the most emotional pieces I've ever written in my life.

Blame Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga. 😭

[dukecollinsbf]

darlin's unempowered friend hcs :3 also masc darlin oc mentioned A LOT! (who's surprised)

his name is trevor o'connor. he's half korean (mom's side) and was born in northern ireland, belfast specifically, before moving to america around the same time that julius (darlin) came to Dahlia, so they quickly became friends because they were both new and had no clue what to do with themselves

he moved away because his mom abandoned him and his dad and his dad, tiernan, didn't really know what to do with himself and moved to america where his brother was. (tiernan is a triplet!) his dad eventually remarried to charlotte and is now extremely happy. trevor loves char!! he has younger siblings from her (that sounds weird? idk how else to word it) and she's overall just one of those mothers that radiate sunshine but does NOT play abt her kids

julius has a bunch of nicknames for him. It went from Trevor to Trev to T to TT (Tee-tee) then titty then Mr. Titty. It's like when you give your dog a nickname and then it escalates into something completely different 

neither of these dudes can walk straight. widawee. like they bump into each other or walk in front of each other and get mad like "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"

they were both losers... they were both pretty boys, but losers. like if they were extroverts and didn't have interests that were considered "weird" then they probably would've been more popular in school

before moving to america, trevor forgot to break up with the girl he was dating so it looked like he literally just disappeared. one time during lunch at school trevor did a big ol sigh like "SIGHH.... man i miss my gf.." and julius was like WHAT r u even talking about......

one time he buzzed and bleached his hair and julius called him eminem for a week and a half before trevor got mad and made julius dye it silver, and when it grew out he had those like tiny little spikes with dark roots and he thought he was the SHIT (he was.)

allergic to pineapple 

dyslexic

his favourite number is 8. julius' is 7. 

after being attacked by quinn, trevor never blamed julius

julius tried to cook for him when he got discharged from the hospital and trevor was like "what... even is this.." 

he didn't eat it. julius ordered him something and ate his creation himself cus he hates wasting food

monster lover, julius is a redbull lover

trevor is also a WHORE for a dr. pepper

one time when they were 14, they tried feeding a stray dog which lead to julius being bitten HARDDD like this dog held on for dear life. afterwards, they hopped on trevor's bike and went to marie's. halfway there trevor asked if julius was okay and julius was just like "are you serious."

they always argue over shit like soccer vs football, chips vs fries, scone vs biscuit, etc. all julius can say to defend himself is "im not from this country."

once he was caught in a lie and trevor replied with "i have an accent, you don't know what i said."

do not have a srs talk around these two. they'll make eye contact and lose their shit

julius wanted to start a band and trevor was like dude we have literally no friends what are you talking about

they used to cuddle platonically all the time, especially when all the quinn shit was going on

trevor has horrendous handwriting. julius makes fun of him when his own handwriting isnt any better, but he defends himself by saying you can read it and that's all that matters

julius : i made u a friendship bracelet :3

trev; thats gay

julius: ok fuck u damn give me it back

trev: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEAAAAAAAAAASE

trevor has a ginger little cat with one eye who's called pearce 

one time julius and trev's apartment building caught on fire cus of shitty wiring and julius had to sit outside in just baggy sweatpants and trevor was sitting out there on the curb in just underwear and a pair of slippers cus it was like 2am

julius: ur so annoyi-

trevor: UR APARTMENT BURNED DOWN!!!!!

even tho it was his apartment too and they literally lose half their shit to the fire

trevor's little sister made him mad one time and he told her the tooth fairy wasn't real

they worked together for a while and both got fired cus they both have anger issues and were also so unserious. like they'd end up on the floor with laughter mid shift.

he hated david for a long ass time. he'd refer to him as bitch boy. he loved asher tho and thought milo was a little too intimidated for a short guy (sassy man apocalypse.)

he has an eyebrow piercing and a few small tattoos, he's scared of needles but wanted to look cool

he didn't know about magic until he got attacked by quinn and was about to pass out from blood loss and he fully thought it was a hallucination. then julius came to him in the hospital like you'll never believe this...

EVER SINCE THEN, julius has no peace.

werewolf reaction pics. dog jokes. julius' birthday gift after trev found out was a squaky toy and on halloween he dressed up as the most cliche werewolf ever and said he was julius. (creds to aster). he used to call it transforming instead of shifting and julius would be like THATS NOT WHAT ITS CALLEDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

"man, im bored... wanna go play fetch?" "ur hairs getting long... i'll take u to the dog groomers." "do u want a pedigree??"

THIS IS KINDA WHAT TREV LOOKS LIKE!! (awooga booga *hearts pop out of my eyes and my tongue drops out of my mouth and rolls across the grounf like a red carpet)

also this pic (ik it doesn't look like my darlin oc or Trev) is so them

DAMN CAN I YAP!!!

tags - (i lurv u guys)

@achios @aurorialwolf @infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt @tgckceo @astrodude-87 @krashkitty @cozy-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @porters-fangs @n0r

cus u guys eat up my hcs.

[clarabowmp3]

omg also I have so much tea (?) to spill online cuz I can’t do it irl 😭😭😭

[livvyofthelake]

also. movie that takes place in virginiaaaaa <3 ok it only takes place in va because it was based on a true story but still. that's my state :)

[sampilled]

im going to get my hair dyed blonde!!!!!!!

[viktortittiforov]

the 2010s sure were a time in my life

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I am like 'boy I am So Normal' and other times I am like 'wow my grandmother sure did give me a lot of undergrad level art criticism to chew on when I was like 13'

[oldtvandcomics]

Happy Queer Media Monday!

Today: Cocoon (2020)

Yeah, not really my kind of story, but it sure made some memorable points.

(The last and most memorable picture from the movie, when Nora finds that her pet caterpillar has hatched.)

Summer 2018. Berlin is suffering under a heatwave. 14-year-old Nora’s life is changing, as she navigates everyday relationships, starts menstruating and discovers her sexuality. 

A low budget coming of age story set in Berlin, I feel like this movie really captured well what it’s like to be a teenager, when everything in your life seems so big and important. The title is fitting, as, instead of a complete story with a conclusion, this “just” captures a moment of transformation in Nora’s life.

I watched this in summer 2020, when I was in Köln for a weekend. It was a very memorable experience, as 1) small village girl in a big city, and 2) summer 2020, so the whole evening had this beautifully forbidden in-between feel to it. It was a small cinema, so that was nice, too. I cried during the Pride scene. None of this has any significance in regard to the movie itself, but it matters to me, so I’m telling you about it.

You can find a trailer with subtitles here.

Queer Media Monday is an action I started to talk about some important and/or interesting parts of our queer heritage, that people, especially young people who are only just beginning to discover the wealth of stories out there, should be aware of. Please feel free to join in on the fun and make your own posts about things you personally find important!

[windfighter]

Comfy clothes

Prompt: Clothing that doesn't fit

-----

Kouji woke up first. He always did. He stayed in his sleeping bag for a while, listened to the others. Tomoki was mumbling in his sleep, Kouichi was snoring lightly. Izumi turned around in her bag, hugged her pillow and kept sleeping. Kouji stretched. He sat up and yawned. Sunlight was starting to creep through the window. It would be a beautiful day and they’d probably go to the park when everyone had woken up. Which would take a few more hours, Kouichi always slept late when he didn’t have school.

Kouji reached for his clothes. He got someone elses, because apparently everyone had dumped their clothes in the same spot. Kouji grumbled a bit. His nightvision wasn’t good enough for him to search through the pile for his own, and he didn’t feel like turning on a light since it could wake up the others. He sighed.

Whatever. I’ll just roll with it.

He pulled them on, hoping it was Kouichi’s. Someone would get them confused if it was and it would be hilarious.

The clothes were big on him. Soft, but big. Very warm. Kouji pulled his hands into the sleeves and smiled. Junpei’s. Junpei was still sleeping soundly in his sleeping bag.

Kouji was starting to feel restless. He stood up, stretched again and snuck out from Takuya’s room. Takuya moved in the bed when Kouji opened the door, but didn’t wake up. Kouji went to the living room, sat down in the couch. The rest of Takuya’s family was still asleep.

There was a deck of cards on the couch table, left behind from the evening. Kouji briefly wondered how long the others had stayed up after he went to bed. He grabbed the deck, shuffled it and played solitaire.

The room got brighter as the sun rose. Tomoki woke up, greeted Kouji without looking at him and sat down to play a game on Takuya’s console. Shinya arrived next and didn’t even notice Kouji because there was a game he could join in on. Takuya ruffled Kouji’s hair before he disappeared to the kitchen to find breakfast. Kouji’s stomach growled, but he ignored it, prefered to wait until Kouichi woke up as well.

Izumi stopped when she noticed him. Tilted her head. At first he thought she was wondering why he had Junpei’s clothes, but there was too much worry in her eyes. Kouji frowned.

”What?” he asked.

”Are you… okay?” she asked. ”I didn’t notice it yesterday but…”

She gestured towards him. Tomoki turned around and Kouji felt blood rush to his cheeks.

”You’ve lost weight”, Izumi finished.

Kouji rolled his eyes.

”I’m fine.”

”You know you can always talk to us, right?”

Kouji buried his face in his hands and shook his head. He was so close to laughter.

”Nothing’s wrong”, he said. ”I promise.”

”Okay…”

Izumi was clearly not convinced. Kouji wasn’t sure what to say to convince her.

”Hey, did anyone see my clothes?” Junpei asked as he came out of the bedroom.

He stopped when he noticed Kouji. Kouji’s cheeks were burning. Junpei’s cheeks got redder as well. Kouji pulled his hands into the sleeves again and buried himself in the sweater.

”Nevermind”, Junpei said. ”Found them.”

”I couldn’t find my own”, Kouji defended himself with. ”You want them back?”

Junpei scratched the back of his neck.

”I’m gonna need them if we’re heading outside later but uh… You can have them until then.”

Izumi glanced between them. Junpei looked away and Kouji pulled the sweater over his mouth to hide his smile.

”They’re comfy”, Kouji said. ”I can see why you like them so much.”

Izumi smiled. Kouji didn’t like that one bit. Junpei also smiled and Kouji liked that a lot more. Junpei sat down next to him in the couch and grabbed the deck of cards.

”I can show you were I got them later?”

Kouji shook his head. Junpei started shuffling the cards.

”No need to get my own, I’ll just borrow yours”, Kouji said with a laugh.

”Fair enough”, Junpei answered.

Izumi snuck away. Kouji could hear her whisper excitedly with Takuya and he feared for his and Junpei’s future.

”Up for a game of Canasta until Sleeping Beauty wakes up?”

Kouji laughed and nodded.

”Sounds fun. Betcha I’ll win.”

”Against the Card Master himself?” Junpei said and winked. ”We’ll see about that.”

[reasonsforhope]

"The first modern attempt at transferring a uterus from one human to another occurred at the turn of the millennium. But surgeons had to remove the organ, which had become necrotic, 99 days later. The first successful transplant was performed in 2011 — but even then, the recipient wasn’t immediately able to get pregnant and deliver a baby. It took three more years for the first person in the world with a transplanted uterus to give birth. 

More than 70 such babies have been born globally in the decade since. “It’s a complete new world,” said Giuliano Testa, chief of abdominal transplant at Baylor University Medical Center.

Almost a third of those babies — 22 and counting — have been born in Dallas at Baylor. On Thursday, Testa and his team published a major cohort study in JAMA analyzing the results from the program’s first 20 patients. All women were of reproductive age and had no uterus (most having been born without one), but had at least one functioning ovary. Most of the uteri came from living donors, but two came from deceased donors.

Fourteen women had successful transplants, all of whom were able to have at least one baby.  

“That success rate is extraordinary, and I want that to get out there,” said Liza Johannesson, the medical director of uterus transplants at Baylor, who works with Testa and co-authored the study. “We want this to be an option for all women out there that need it.”

Six patients had transplant failures, all within two weeks of the procedure. Part of the problem may have been a learning curve: The study initially included only 10 patients, and five of the six with failed transplants were in that first group. These were “technical” failures, Testa said, involving aspects of the surgery such as how surgeons connected the organ’s blood vessels, what material was used for sutures, and selecting a uterus that would work well in a transplant. 

The team saw only one transplant fail in the second group of 10 people, the researchers said. All 20 transplants took place between September 2016 and August 2019.

Only one other cohort study has previously been published on uterus transplants, in 2022. A Swedish team, which included Johannesson before she moved to Baylor, performed seven successful transplants out of nine attempts. Six women, including the first transplant recipient to ever deliver a baby back in 2014, gave birth.

“It’s hard to extract data from that, because they were the first ones that did it,” Johannesson said. “This is the first time we can actually see the safety and efficacy of this procedure properly.”

So far, the signs are good: High success rates for transplants and live births, safe and healthy children so far, and early signs that immunosuppressants — typically given to transplant recipients so their bodies don’t reject the new organ — may not cause long-term harm, the researchers said. (The uterine transplants are removed after recipients no longer need them to deliver children.) And the Baylor team has figured out how to identify the right uterus for transfer: It should be from a donor who has had a baby before, is premenopausal, and, of course, who matches the blood type of the recipient, Testa said...

“They’ve really embraced the idea of practicing improvement as you go along, to understand how to make this safer or more effective. And that’s reflected in the results,” said Jessica Walter, an assistant professor of reproductive endocrinology and infertility at Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine, who co-authored an editorial on the research in JAMA...

Walter was a skeptic herself when she first learned about uterine transplants. The procedure seemed invasive and complicated. But she did her fellowship training at Penn Medicine, home to one of just four programs in the U.S. doing uterine transplants. 

“The firsts — the first time the patient received a transplant, the first time she got her period after the transplant, the positive pregnancy test,” Walter said. “Immersing myself in the science, the patients, the practitioners, and researchers — it really changed my opinion that this is science, and this is an innovation like anything else.” ...

Many transgender women are hopeful that uterine transplants might someday be available for them, but it’s likely a far-off possibility. Scientists need to rewind and do animal studies on how a uterus might fare in a different “hormonal milieu” before doing any clinical trials of the procedure with trans people, Wagner said.

Among cisgender women, more long-term research is still needed on the donors, recipients, and the children they have, experts said.

“We want other centers to start up,” Johannesson said. “Our main goal is to publish all of our data, as much as we can.”"

-via Stat, August 16, 2024

[seilon]

it takes about 45 minutes to get to school via walking + busses with about 25 of that being walking/waiting outside. it takes about 10 minutes by car. it’s 108 degrees. should i get a lyft? probably. but. hgsgghhhhh

[gothamcityneedsme]

god im still thinking about how everyone goes on about how terry ''has a record" and like. HE WAS 14!!!! GOD!!

[katya-goncharov]

i wonder if it's weird that i still bear a grudge against my friend from primary school for unfriending me on facebook over a decade ago

[it-was-yxu]

Was going through some suuuper old notebooks from when I was in 8th grade (12-14) and hoooollly shit I am.. so glad I got therapy??

PSA don't let your kids have unsupervised internet access at 11-14, it definitely damaged me like a LOT lmfao Also wouldn't recommend letting your kids under 12 watch horror movies 🫡

I had so much anger and trauma in me and I didn't know why and despite all of my art and writing being frankly disturbing back then, it's all just really sad to look back on tbh cuz I didn't know why I was so angry a(nd sad) all the time and I hated it and myself so much :( Like I didn't remember my trauma at the time, had no idea just how mentally ill I was, still figuring out my sexuality and gender all while being screamed at or neglected at home and bullied by my peers and harassed by teachers who didn't understand me and why I couldn't pay attention even when I didn't have a phone or anything to doodle on in front of me because it was my thoughts that were the distraction, the doodling actually helped me focus uggghhhh

Idk it's 3 am and I'm thinking sooo much about teenage me, wanna hug that lil fucker it's not they're fault they acted the way they did, they didn't know any better and so much shit was normalized by the fandom spaces they were in and soooo many people took advantage of them or treated them like shit because of it :(

[hiroyildiz]

Claim: Tim Drake could be spiderman.

Evidence 1: interested in photography (of vigilantes in particular)

Evidence 2: good at science stuff/ deadly smart

Evidence 3: bisexual

Evidence 4: selfless acts (bruh do I even need to give examples?)

Evidence 5: dead parents/father figures

Evidence 6: cool/funny inner monologue (The whole Red Robin comic y'all)

Reasoning: it is absolutely possible that Tim Drake went on a school trip to Lexcorp when he was 14 and got bitten by a radioactive spider resulting in a terrible fever but he wouldn't say anything to anyone because he is emotionally stupid and wake up next day with spider powers and say, and i quote,: "cool"

Conclusion: NOW I HAVE TO WRITE SPIDER-TIM

AND MAKE IT TIMKON OBV...

[coquettepascal]

texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying. 

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes. 

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones. 

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does. 

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you. 

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to. 

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job. 

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together. 

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point. 

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there. 

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats. 

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute? 

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel. 

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable. 

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing. 

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird. 

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone. 

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars. 

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice. 

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath. 

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. 

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer. 

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him. 

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself. 

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years. 

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing. 

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this. 

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks. 

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock. 

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him. 

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?” 

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either. 

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers. 

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering. 

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay. 

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you. 

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough. 

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.” 

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out. 

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.