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#i'm really tired but i wanna do something on here so
auteurdelabre · 8 hours
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PLEASE MISTER MILLER SEQUEL PART 7 - BFD!Joel x f!Reader
rating: 18+ (MAJOR FILTH IN THIS ONE)
pairings: Your Best Friends Dad Joel x f!Reader
warnings: FILTH, age gap, divorce, domestic bliss, public-ish sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, all the sex and all the fluff, slightly possessive Joel, love love love.
a/n: Y'all I had major writers block with this one. Took me a bit but I think I got us there. One more chapter after this to go and I'm unsure of how to end it. . . Dunno what these two idiots deserve.
masterlist here
There's something strange about entering into Joel's home after all these months that makes your heart pound.  Joel carries your bags for you, chatting animatedly that the place might look different. His voice fades into the back of your mind as you look around. It all feels so surreal to be back in this house. Bizarre to see how Joel has made the place more his own in the short time since his separation. 
For one thing the frames that contained photos of Tess are gone. The only ones that remain are of him and Sarah smiling toothily at the camera.  Its clear Tess has not been in the picture for some time, despite her last ditch effort to connect.
A bunch of the furniture seems new as well. The sofa he fucked you on last Christmas has been replaced by a smaller, more streamlined looking leather piece and most of the knick knacks and colorful items from the rooms have been removed. The TV is propped up on a plastic stand that looks garish amongst the more subdued and tasteful décor.
The place is definitely a bachelor pad. 
The bedroom has been painted not green, but a gentle blue and that makes your heart clench tightly. The bed is new, has grey sheets and plush looking pillows. A stationary bike is in the corner.  The dresser is adorned with coins, old receipts, CD’s, pencils and a variety of other things one would normally find in a carpenter’s pockets. No longer in wicker baskets or small decorative dishes.
“Now you don’t have to stay in here,” Joel says seriously, his hand still on your suitcase handle as you glance around his bedroom. “We can set you up in the guest room like before no problem. That way you’ll still have your own space.”
You frown at him. “You want me in the guest room?”
“Doesn’t matter what I want.”
“Joel.”
He sighs softly. “No, I don’t, not really.”
“So I can stay in here with you?”
“Only if you wa-“
You stop his rambling with a kiss before taking the handle from him and rolling it to the far side of the room. 
“Can I put my stuff in the closet? Or dresser?”
“Both.”
You start to unpack and Joel watches this with a soft little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Dinner is pizza sat on the glass coffee table, watching a movie you two could agree on. You spend most of it sneaking glances at Joel’s profile from the corner of your eye. You find yourself completely taken with everything about him – how his salt and pepper curls fall into his forehead, how his jaw clenches when he chews his pizza, how he huffs through his nose when he’s amused at something in the movie.
You’re pathetically in love with him.
Hours later the two of you collapse onto the bed side by side, too tired from the day’s travel to do anything other than sleep. Despite this, Joel takes great pleasure in watching you shimmy out of your jeans and shirt, pulling on your nightdress and climbing back into bed with him.
“Goodnight baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you into his arms, tucking you there underneath his chin after a soft kiss. “M’so glad you’re here.”
///
You've woken up next to Joel several times in hotel beds, but never his own. So when the sun lazily makes its way into the bedroom that first morning and you blink awake, you're almost startled to see him sleeping there next to you. You take in the grey of his bed sheets, the way his mouth parts slightly in his sleep, the way his hair is tousled from sleep and you feel your heart swell. 
"Morning, honey," you whisper. "You wanna get coffee?"
"Nuh uh," he mutters, eyes still closed. An arm slides over your waist, pulling you against him. "Want you."
Fucking in Joel's bed is just as delicious a fucking him in your dorm at college. Only now you don't have to rush or panic. You can just enjoy the way his skin looks in the morning sun as he buries his mouth between your legs with your thighs at his ears, his hands gripping your ass so he can devour you properly. 
"Right there!" You cry out, body arching for him. "M’so close, I just-"
You come with a shuddering cry, piercing the peaceful quiet of the bedroom.  Joel grins, mouth glistening with your arousal. He climbs up the length of your body, mouth ravishing yours before he urges you onto your belly. His body is heavy over yours, his mouth rasping against your ear.
“My turn.”
Joel gathers your hair into a ponytail, wrapping it around his palm and tugging you onto all fours for him. You give a soft whimper, delighted at the tugging sensation on your scalp. Joel grins, tugging you gently again by the hair as his free hand grips your thigh, urging you to arch ass in the air for him.
He sinks into you slowly, but when you whimper at the sensation and arch further the angle of your shifting hips allows his stroke to drive deeper. Already turned on out of his mind, Joel begins to thrust deep and fast, causing your eyes to roll back as you groan. 
"You like that?" Joel grunts, his hips snapping against your ass. 
"Uh huh." 
He continues on like this with his hand wrapped in your hair, tugging you gently as he fucks into you. He checks in with you every once in a while, a soft kiss to your shoulder and a husky ‘you still okay?’ before he continues with you groaning your desire for him to go harder and deeper.
He pounds into you with intensity, the rhythm of his fingers on your clit staying steady.You come with a shuddering cry, head lolled forward and Joel’s cock sawing in and out of you, his fingers dancing on your clit.
“Whose girl are you?”
“Yours,” you groan, flesh rippling as his hips slap against your ass in a frenzy.
"That's right," Joel growls before he nips at your earlobe. "Now prove it and soak my cock."
You cry out his name before thrusting yourself back against his cock.
“That’s it, that’s it,” he coos as you come down.
You hear his ragged grunts as you climax but notice that he begins to slow, his cock slowly dragging and plunging before tapering off. You look over your shoulder at him, your cheeks flushed. Joel is looking down at you with a strange look on his face. 
"What's wrong, baby?"
"Was thinking of tryin' somethin'," he murmurs, dark eyes sliding over your naked body as he gently pulls from you.  “You up for somethin’ a lil different?”
"Anything you want," you tell him honestly. And you mean it; Joel can use your body in any way he desires. You trust him absolutely. He’s never given you reason to doubt him. His face lights up almost boyishly as he grins down at you. 
"Yeah?"
You nod and he practically leaps off the bed. You grin, taking time to appreciate the sight of his deliciously taut ass twitching as his naked frame pads over to the dresser where he threw his jeans last night.  
You watch in quiet fascination as he un-loops the dark brown leather belt from the pair, sliding it around his palm as he looks over at you. 
"You've used a belt before," you remind him as he moves towards the bed, hard cock bobbing as you think of how he used a belt to bind your wrists once. 
"Not like this," Joel slides his tongue into his opposite cheek as he crawls back onto the bed behind you. His large palm slides over the curve of your ass, gripping a moment. You can feel his eyes on your naked body, heavy and hot. 
 "You trust me?" 
"Yes."
There's no hesitation, no balking. You simply rest there on your hands and knees, waiting. 
You feel Joel continue to watch you, no doubt observing the gathering slick of your cunt and the shine of it on your inner thighs. His hot and heavy breath is there at your ass, giving you a sharp nip on your left cheek that has you yelp and him chuckle. His warm hand soothes the sting immediately.
"So gorgeous," Joel murmurs as he kisses his way up your naked spine. You bow, wanting him to press his lips to every vertebra, to tattoo your body with his tongue and mouth. You feel him behind you, the warmth of his body curling over you as his mouth drags over your shoulder blade, slow and sensual. 
"You’re so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?"
His mouth is at your jaw as he asks this and by answer you tilt your head to capture his lips against yours. He makes a low noise, his hand going to curve around your throat, holding you there so that he can kiss you at his leisure, sucking your tongue into his mouth as your cunt weeps.
“Keep bein’ good, yeah?”
You feel him circle the leather around your waist, the sensation drawing a soft gasp from you. His eyes drift to your wait as he tightens the belt before notching it. It’s almost as if he expects you to wear it, only he keeps the tail end of it firmly gripped in his palm. 
"Tell me if it's too tight." 
"S'not," you purr, finding the sensation of leather biting into your hips and belly to be a turn on more than anything. 
He tugs gently, urging you back towards him before giving the belt some slack. His free hand is at your ass again, rubbing sweet circles over the mark he’s left. You feel him on his knees, bending back to look at you.
"Show me what's mine, baby."
You sigh contentedly, forcing your legs apart further, ass in the air, your face resting on the mattress. You know from where he kneels behind you be can see everything, including your puffy pussy completely drenched. 
You whimper slightly at the sound of Joel's groan. 
“Yeah, she’s all mine.”
Joel watches your muscles roll and skin prickle in anticipation and he can't stop himself from rubbing his palm up your spine, his fingers tracing where his mouth and tongue have travelled. 
You whimper again, cunt twitching as fresh arousal gathers there. Joel swallows a growl and you feel him notch himself at your entrance, guiding the head of his cock against your clit before sinking into your dripping cunt. 
“Joel!”
From this angle he feels so big, filling you so well. Your cunt almost stings from how big. When he begins to move you grip onto the bed sheets, body jolting as you let out little mewls of pleasure.
"So fuckin' good," Joel groans out between clenched teeth. He pulls out slowly, wanting to see his cock glossy with your slick before he’s sinking between your lips again.  He does it again and again, pulling out slowly, admiring how your pussy looks when its empty and then stuffed full of him.
He does this for several moments, working you up and making you cry out his name in broken little whispers. 
“Please, Joel.”
"I made you come twice already," Joel reminds you with a teasing edge to his voice. "Now you’re gonna lay there and let me fuck you full a' my come, pretty girl." 
All at once you feel him tug the belt back abruptly, sending you sliding back along his length as he thrusts forward and buries himself to the hilt. He does this over and over until you hear the squelching sounds of him fucking into you. It’s obscene and dirty and you fucking love it.
"You gonna do that?" You hear the smile in his voice as his hips start to pick up the pace. "Gonna let me fuck you full?"
The bite of the leather against your skin mixing with the feel of Joel's hips slapping against your thighs is making you quickly unravel. 
"Yes, Joel!" You cry out, not in pain but in pleasure. 
You surrender to his thrusts, sliding back as he pushes forward, using the belt to keep you at the perfect fucking distance. You hear his panting and the sound of your sweaty bodies smacking against one another. 
"What a bad fuckin' girl," Joel taunts as his hips slap your ass over and over at increasingly quicker intervals. "Came twice and she's so cock drunk she's gonna gimme another one."
"N-no Joel," you manage. "Gonna make you come." 
"Don't think you can," Joel rasps with a husky chuckle. "Think my bad girl needs to soak my cock again."
You cry out at the sensation of his length hitting you so deep. But the burning desire to do good, to pleasure him overrides this. 
"Wanna make you come, Joel. M'not a bad girl," you tell him almost petulantly as you move up the bed with a particularly aggressive thrust from Joel.  
"Oh no?" he grinds himself against your ass, tugging the belt again. "Show me how good you can be." 
You slide yourself back against the length of him, smiling into the pillow when you hear his shaky inhale. You do it again, slowly welcoming him deep before sliding off, the tip teasing your entrance before you feel the tug of his belt, forcing you back.
"Uh huh that's my good girl," Joel pants, surprising you by landing a quick slap to your ass with his free hand. "Yeah, that's it. Fuck yourself on it for me."
Your ass bounces as you bow your back for him, desperate for him to take what he wants. You urge him deeper, moaning as his hand gives you another swat on the other cheek.
"Deeper," you beg him, not just to make him feel good but because you're so fucking close. 
"You’re so goddam good," he tells you as he buries himself, sawing in and out of your slippery cunt. He tugs the belt, pulling you back along his cock over and over. You cry out loud from the dual sensations of Joel's cock and the leather belt. 
You feel as a few of his fingers slide under the waist of the belt, holding you more firmly in place as he begins to jackhammer his cock into your slot deeper than ever. It makes your whimpers come out in little huffs, your body shaking with each plunge of him between your thighs.
"Take... It.... Just... Like .. That." Each word is barked out with a pump of his cock into your cunt. "Good ... Girl."
You give out sharp little grunts with every thrust of him from behind you, your hands fisting in the sheets as your eyes roll back. He holds you firmly by the belt, head tilted back as his cock kisses your cervix.
"Stay right there," he pants, hips rolling aggressively now. "N'make me feel good."
"Yes," you promise, breasts shaking as he fucks harder and deeper into you. His hips slap loudly in against your ass, his cock so thick and so soaked as he slides between your swollen folds. You keen as his cock forces itself deeper and he starts grunting louder, punched out with each thrust.
“Fuck, fuck I  love yo-“
He can't finish the sentence. He's coming hard, pulsing into you as he grips your body, his lips pressed to your cheek, gasping as he thrusts. Your arm goes to bend around his neck, your flesh jolting as he uses you to finish. You smile through your mutual panting, finding his mouth as you tilt your head.
“I love you too, Joel.”
///
You wake up the first few days after staying with Joel with a coiled tension in your body.
There is a small part of you that is terrified that this is all going too good. That perhaps now that you know Joel is getting divorced and the forbidden aspect of the relationship is over that it will dampen your ardor for him. That his biggest fears he had about you will come true. 
But they don’t.
If anything your capacity for loving him grows. Doing crosswords together over coffee in the morning, going for walks hand-in-hand in the park near his house. Laughing over something stupid on the TV, playing cards late into the night.
He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He holds you in his arms when you drift off to sleep. You feel a safety and a contentment you’ve never experienced before. Always waiting for the shoe to drop, but it never does.
And of course there’s the fucking everywhere, almost as if Joel has a personal mission to make sure you come in every single room. You don’t mind at all. In fact you encourage it one morning by bringing out the snowflake skirt from Christmas that you packed at the bottom of your bag, giggling in your dorm.
You put it on over a tight white tank top and bend over in front of him to grab the milk from the fridge, giving a soft “morning baby.” You can feel his sleepy gaze from beside the coffee maker and you arch slightly, pretending to not see what you’re looking for. You’re just starting to wonder if he’s noticed you’re not wearing panties when you hear him fall to his knees behind you, turning you around and fucking you with his tongue.
Seems Joel isn’t bored either.
///
Bitch I miss u! [sadface.jpg]
Sarah attaches a sad-looking selfie to the text that makes you giggle. Your time in Austin is limited, only two weeks remain before you head back home, so you have to think to the future even if that’s the last thing you want to do.
I miss you more! How is Chile?
I love it! We went stargazing in the Atacama Desert last night! [desert.jpg]
Holy shit you look so hot!
(EMOJI) Must be all the Chilean sunshine. You should be out here enjoying with your guy.
You feel your throat tighten. You can’t tell her that things are going well with your ‘guy’. She’ll want a photo. And you know she’ll recognize her own fucking house in the background no matter where you stand. Same goes for any coffee shops or local hot spots. So you try to change the topic.
How's Charlie?
Not so good. He just got an email about the job he applied for. He didn't get it so he'll jobless in September. We’re both pretty upset.
I'm so sorry. 
You frown at your phone, reading your text from Sarah. She seems pretty down about the whole Charlie thing. Sarah’s always been a planner, so you know that changes like this can really set her off.  She and Charlie had planned on San Diego for their next steps and it had seemed like Charlie was a shoo in. Sarah was already talking about the cute apartment they were gonna get after their travels. Your heart breaks for your friend.
It’s okay. I just wanted to say I miss u. Hope ur having fun with your guy since you loooooooooooooove him so much. One day you’re gonna have to send me a photo for approval. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for u.
I promise he is.
The door to the bathroom opens just then and a waft of steam exits, along with the scent of bergamot and whatever else is in Joel’s shampoo. He’s wearing only his boxers and the towel is slung over his shoulder as he rubs at his damp curls.
“Mornin’ baby.”
You watch him go to the dresser and pull on his black Miller Construction t-shirt, biceps bulging.
You lay in bed, gazing up at a freshly showered Joel who looks and smells so fucking sexy your pussy throbs. His broad shoulders ripple under the strained t-shirt fabric as he drags a comb through his wet hair.
“Do you really have to go back to work today?”
It’s been two weeks of just existing in this blissful cocoon of eating and laughing and fucking. You don’t want it to end, but of course life has to intrude.
“F’raid so, baby. I’m the boss and I better show my face before they start likin’ Tommy better.”
“Not possible,” you tell him with a grin.
“But to make up for it, I’m takin’ you out tonight,” he tells you, his dark eyes staring at you in the mirror’s reflection.
“A date?” you’re on your knees now, hands excitedly clasped in your lap. “Where?”
He drops the comb on the dresser, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, dragging your mouth to his only to stop an inch from your mouth.
“S’a surprise pretty girl.”
“How should I dress?”
“However you want,” he shrugs before kissing you softly. You hold in an eye roll at this. Men just don’t understand fashion.
He prepares to stand but he smells so good and he looks even better. His curls are drying into soft little salt and pepper waves and you need to have him. You pull him back for another kiss, tongue’s dabbing.
“Do you really have to go right now?” you ask with a teasing lilt. Your hand drifts between his legs and you smirk when you see his eyelids flutter.
“Yes,” he says sternly, his hand covering yours.
“Just five minutes,” you urge, hands coming to unbuckle his jeans, drawing down the zipper and sighing when his warm cock comes alive in your palm.
“I-I have to go,” he breathes against your mouth. “I gotta-”
“Just lemme make you come,” you whisper, kissing his jaw. “I wanna make you come, Daddy.”
Joel tries so hard to regain his thoughts but you’ve started stroking and he’s powerless. It isn’t long before he’s driving you into the mattress, hips snapping against yours and moaning your name into your shoulder as he tells you time and time again that he’s late, that he has to go, that… oh fuck you feel amazing.
It’s an hour later when Joel finally rushes out of the house, still pulling down his t-shirt as he starts the truck.
///
You’re sitting on the couch, going through job applications for back home as you wait for Joel to arrive for your date night. You’ve only got a week or so left here in Austin before you have to go back to your depressing life. You need to have a plan, a place to rent. You can’t move back with your awful parents. Parents who haven’t sent you as much as an e-mail since your blow up at graduation.  
The doorbell rings, surprising you into dropping your phone. You wait a moment, eyes wide as you stare at the door. Joel has never told you one way or the other if you should answer it. What if it’s Tess? What if it’s a nosy neighbor?
Ding dong.
Fuck it. If it’s a neighbor you’ll tell them you’re a friend of the family. If it’s Tess…well… You don’t know what to do about that.
You straighten your dress, trying to look composed as you sail to the door, opening it a crack and peeking your head around.
Joel stands there on the front porch dressed in a pale blue button down and fresh jeans. He’s smiling widely at you and in his hands he holds a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Some yellow, some pink, but the ones that really call to you are the white sleepy looking ones.
“I’m here to pick you up for our date,” he rumbles, his eyes glittering. His eyes sail over your face and the sundress you’ve chosen. “Fuck you’re a knockout.”
You blush, taking the flowers from him as you open the door widely. “Thank you, they’re stunning.”
“The yellow ones are kerrias and those white ones? They’re called summer snowflakes,” he says as he watches you gazing at them.
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
You press a kiss to his eager mouth, his lips chasing yours when you pull off squealing.
“I’m gonna put them in water!”
You find a tall vase under the sink and arrange the bouquet inside, gazing at them with your cheeks hot. You’ve never been romanced like this. Conrad thought jewelry and expensive dinners were enough. Joel does those things but he does so much more. He remembers little things, he calls you beautiful, he cherishes you.
Joel is still standing by the front door as if this is a real date and you hurriedly rush back, pulling your purse over your shoulder. You take in his button down and jeans again, scrunching your nose in confusion.
“How-“
“Had the clothes in my car,” he tells you with a grin before offering his arm. “Ready to go, beautiful girl?”
///
He takes you to a food truck for dinner, not exactly what you were expecting, but certainly nothing to sneeze at. The streets are busy, lined with tourists all snapping photos, laughing, listening to the street musicians.
“They got the best tacos here,” he informs you as he passes you a carton holding several. “And there’s somewhere I wanted to show you.”
You follow him down the busy main streets of Austin, past the various folks that try to sell you trinkets. You come upon a group of people bustling around one specific site, a painted mural of a piece of toast saying “You’re my” and a dab of butter boating the words “Butter Half”. You grin at it.
“They did these murals all over Austin,” Joel explains as you approach it. “Some’ve been around for decades, some more recent. S’one of my favorite things about Austin. I look at ‘em all the time when I need a walk, or to clear my head. S’better than any art gallery, cheapter too.”
“Are there more?” you ask, taking a bite from your taco.
“Yep.”
As the two of you eat your dinner, Joel takes you through a walking tour of the neighborhood, pointing out the various murals that you pass. Some are funny, some political, some devastating.
Wherever you go people are posing in front of them, flashing peace signs and smiling broadly at phone cameras.  An especially popular one is the one on a green background with the red spray painted words: I love you so much. Compared to the rest of the colorful pieces its sweet in its simplicity.
“I like that one,” you muse.
“Me too,” Joel says, kissing your temple and taking your hand.  He grabs you an ice cream around the next block, watching as you grapple with not letting it drip down your palm in the summer heat.
You watch Joel’s face turn into a smile as you pass a woman with two children. One in her arms, the other tugging her towards one of the murals. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes get wistful, his mouth tight. You think of your conversation over spring break when he didn’t really answer your question.
"You really want more kids, don’t you?" You offer gently. 
"Uh, maybe, yeah," Joel shrugs, almost embarrassed at being caught out. "I mean, I had Sarah when I was nineteen goin' on twenty. Would be nice to be a dad when I'm not scrambling paycheck to paycheck with a wife who's got one foot out the door." 
You nod thoughtfully, your tongue coming to take a slow lick of your cone.
"Just so you know, it's not a deal breaker," Joel is quick to explain when you go quiet. "I mean if we... You know… You don’t need to want them." 
"But you just said you think you want another kid."
"I want you more." 
You feel your heart hiccup at that. You have to turn away so he doesn’t see how your eyes have grown glossy. Sometimes Joel says the perfect, most amazing thing and he doesn’t even realize it.
The subject is dropped for the time being. It feels like too much too soon.
"S'funny I've never been a PDA person," Joel muses as he runs his fingers along your spine as the two of you continue to walk. "But I can't keep my hands off of you."
"Same here,” you admit. “I used to hate it when Conr- when my ex would hold me around the waist when we walked. It felt so… possessive.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” Joel muses with a smirk.
“That’s different,” you say quickly, eyes wide. “I… I wouldn’t mind it if you did it.”
“You like me bein’ a little possessive of you?” Joel murmurs, smirking down at your increasingly red face. You give an airy shrug, hoping it conveys a sense of indifference.
“Maybe.”
His hand wraps around your waist, holding you against him as you keep walking. And it doesn’t feel like possession, it feels like love. Everything Joel does feels like love.
With your ice cream gone but your hand still sticky you come to another mural, this one a black painted wall with writing all over. The closer you get the more you can the details. It’s like the wall of the building has been painted like a huge chalkboard. Stenciled on is the same question over and over ‘Before I die _________”.
You can see there are so many answers in chalk all over it.
 Before I die I want to visit Australia.
Before I die I want to see Harry Styles in concert.
Before I die I want to write a book.
“You ever answered this?” you ask as you read more of the various scripts.
Before I die I want to make a change in the world.
Before I die I want to win the lottery.
“Yeah. Once.”
You turn to him when he doesn’t elaborate. He’s got a funny little look on his face, staring at the mural.
“When?”
“Little bit after Christmas,” Joel mutters, almost embarrassed. He tries to keep walking but you hold him steady by the wrist. He looks back over at you, his cheeks stained pink at the cheekbones.
“C’mon, tell me,” you urge with a gentle tap of your hip against his. “No secrets, remember?”
The day is quickly turning to night and Joel’s silhouetted in the golden hour, making him look almost angelic as he stands there. The deliberation is clear in his expression before Joel huffs a soft sigh, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile as he leans forward, his mouth at your ear.
“Before I die, I want to hold Snowflake one more time.”
Your eyes fill with tears as he pulls his face back from yours, his own eyes damp. You know how he must have been feeling last year. The same way you had been, only you’d convinced yourself it was one-sided. A fleeting infatuation.
How wrong you had been.
///
You and Joel haven’t brought up the fact that you have to leave soon. Three days in fact until your unofficial time with him is over. Three days left of kissing and hugging and whispers of fidelity and love are shared. Three days left of fucking him over every imaginable surface.
You want to distract yourself from the oncoming misery so you send him a text with items you’ll need to make him a special dinner. At six promptly the front door to the house opens and Joel comes walking in, weighted down with grocery bags.
“You’re sure you needed all this stuff?”
“Mhm,” you jump up from the couch, padding after him into the kitchen. “I wanted to make something special to celebrate our time together.”
Joel grins over at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he drops the bags on the counter. He leans forward and presses a peck to your mouth. You feel his tongue dab against yours and you know exactly what he’s up to.
“Get outta here,” you say pushing him gently and going to stand at the counter. “I gotta start cooking.”
“I just wanna watch,” Joel insists, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. You want to deny him, but his hands are coming to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it free from your skirt.
“Joel-“
"Remember when you sucked my cock right there?" Joel groans into your hairline, pressing you into the counter with his hips.
"Yeah," you whimper, feeling his hand curling around your panties and tugging them down over your ass.
"Fuckin’ filthy girl."
“Mhmmm,” you murmur, hand going behind you to slide down his front. His cock is already hard when you squeeze it through his jeans. "Wanted you to fuck me against it."
"We can make that happen," Joel grins against the crown of your head, pulling himself from his jeans. "You want that, baby?"
"Yeah."
"C'mon now," he breathes as he sheaths himself in your dripping pussy. "You be good an' loud for me. You tell me how good it feels." 
You do. 
Subsequently dinner is late, but delicious.
“Holy shit you could cook all this time?” Joel whistles between bites of cornbread and steak amongst your other homemade items. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me.”
“Maybe I just like your cooking better.”
“Mhm.” Joel gives a roll of his eyes at that.
Despite the both of you being stuffed from dinner and dessert, you still want to fuck him later that night. It feels like urgency as you think of time ticking away, but as you roll towards him in bed Joel doesn’t quite seem himself.
He’s looking at the ceiling, brows scrunched together. It makes you nervous even as you lay curled in his arms.
“What’s going on?”
“Huh?” Joel turns his attention to. “Nothin’ baby.”
You both fall quiet, your fingers twisting in the duvet. Your mind goes home to a house that feels cold and empty. To a bed that won’t have Joel in it. You try not to feel too devastated. You don’t want to ruin what precious time you have left.
You tilt your head, seeing that Joel is staring up at the ceiling again.
You shuffle to balance your chin on his sternum, gazing up at him under sleepy lids. You want to memorize his face, the way his chest falls when he breathes or the sweet, gentle way he’s gazing at you.
"What do you think of stayin' here a bit longer?" Joel whispers, hand coming to rub the hair over your ear.
"In bed?"
"In Austin."
"Like, for the rest of the summer?"
The thought makes your pulse pick up. You are in absolutely no rush to head back home to your parent’s house.  In no rush to leave Joel's warm arms and warmer smile. 
"Longer 'n that," Joel murmurs. Your brows knit together. 
"You said you were plannin' on doing your courses online," Joel explains. "And you were lookin' for a part time job but you didn't have one yet. So why not just do it all here? I know lots of people; I could find you a job easy." 
You stare at him a moment as you digest this. Joel is asking you to move in with him. And instead of fear or unease you felt at the thought of doing so with Conrad, your face blooms into a beaming smile.
"You've really been thinking about this," you say both touched and amused by him. You crawl up the length of him, wrapping your arms around him.  
He goes quiet, looking embarrassed for a moment before his arms tighten around you, holding you to him as he kisses your neck. 
"I'd love to," you answer with a soft peck to his lips.
“Yeah?”
"Yeah,” you grin, blinking back the wet. “I never wanna leave Austin...Or you… Or this bed." 
Joel's mouth finds yours, hands pulling you more tightly to him as if his joy can be expressed better physically. 
"And if it's too much stress don't worry about the job," Joel assures you between kisses. "I'll take care of you."
"Joel, I'm not gonna sponge off of you," you insist with a frown. "I'm not gonna be a kept woman. I'm gonna get a part-time job while I finish school."
"Well until then I've got a job for you," Joel says with a crooked grin as he pulls your hand over the hardening cock in his sweatpants. "One I know you're more than qualified for." 
///
The sunrise feels different in Joel's bed. You can't quite explain it. It's like the colors are more vibrant peeking through his blinds, the warmth more gentle against your skin. 
Joel is always wrapped around you, legs twisted, your head buried in his neck, as if even sleeping he never wants to be without you. The serenity of these first moments of consciousness never fails to amaze you. 
One morning you can't help but marvel at how beautiful he is when he sleeps. Plush lips parted, eyes softly shut, dark lashes fanning over his cheek. His golden body muscled and warm from slumber.
And he’s yours.
The concept overwhelms you and you find yourself pushing your body from the bed, energy forcing you to the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee before padding into the living room. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the neighborhood yet. 
You sit on the window seat, shoulders loose and your head tilted to the side. Your hands are in your lap, loosely curled against your ankles, the percolating coffee forgotten as you take in the beauty of the morning.
You’ve never had things like this; quiet, peaceful mornings where the day stretches out before you full of sublime joy and possiblity. Always in school or at home with your parents or with Conrad. But with Joel you just exist, not beholden to anyone but yourself. 
This is what happiness is.
You hear footsteps pad slowly towards you and you glance up over your shoulder to see a mug of coffee extended in your direction, made just the way you like it. You take it along with the full lipped kiss he gives you. Joel’s eyes are sleepy small and his body is still warm from slumber.
"Watch the sunrise with me," you whisper. 
Joel nods before taking a seat next to you with your situating yourself in his lap, leaning back into his chest as the pink of the sky bleeds into blue. You sip your coffee slowly, reveling in the security of Joel's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, at the way his muscled arms wrap around you like a cloak. 
You're both silent as the gold of the morning breaks through, casting everything in that hazy romantic light. You don't even notice the tears until they plop onto your bare leg. Joel must notice too because he cranes his head to peer into your face. 
"What's the matter, baby?"
His voice is early morning rumble. You sniffle before gazing up at him with a watery smile. 
"I'm just so happy." 
///
In early July Austin goes through a heat wave that leaves everywhere absolutely sweltering. It has you and Joel resting on the living room floor, the air conditioner and fans whirring around you. Joel wears nothing but shorts and you nothing but a skimpy pair of cut offs and tank top. But neither of you is feeling amorous.
The heat carries into the rest of the work week leaving Joel sweaty and exhausted when he comes home. The air conditioner is working overtime but the sticky heat lingers. It makes doing much seem impossible. You’ve been stuck inside the last few days, eating cold meals and trying to do as little as possible.
Joel doesn’t always have bad days at work, but when he does you want nothing more than to take the weight from his shoulders. You can tell it’s an especially bad one today because he kicks off his shoes and drops the toolbox at the front door.
“Bad day?”
“Tommy thought it would be great to sign off on tile that we can’t fuckin’ afford on this latest remodel,” Joel all but snaps, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.
“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”
“Lower the price of fuckin’ tile?”
You don’t say anything to that. Suddenly you feel very small, as if this is somehow your fault. As if you do in fact control the price of tile. You glance around the house and see plates on tables, cups forgotten. You should’ve cleaned today instead of looking at jobs.
"Let’s go for ice cream after dinner," you offer, trying to rouse his spirits. “My treat.”
"S’too hot. It'll melt before we even get a lick in."
"Home Depot?" You suggest, knowing it’s one of Joel’s favorite spots to walk around.
"It'll be crowded and we might see some people I know."
It's a bit of a sore point between you two. Joel hasn't introduced you to anyone and you've made no effort to make him. You enjoy this little cocoon you've created and don't want anything to spoil it. The thing is you have an idea that Joel would like to start introducing you, but Sarah has to know first.
Neither of you is looking forward to that.
“Could make those boozy slush things we saw?”
“Nah,” Joel replies, sweat beading his forehead.
You’re feeling irritable from the heat and unhappy that Joel’s bad day has somehow translated into you feeling shitty.  
“Well you’ve shot down all my ideas why don’t you come up with one?”
“I just worked ten hours in the blistering sun. I’m sorry if I’m not in the mood to plan a fuckin’ date,” Joel snaps, sweat beading his forehead.  “Maybe if you gave me five fuckin’ minutes t-”
Whatever else Joel had been about to say is lost because you’re already striding from the room. Your legs feel like jelly and you are almost blind with tears. You rush to the guest room, slamming the door behind you. 
You throw yourself onto the bed; eyes squeezed shut as you try to even out your breathing. Your heart is pounding and you want to sob. But another part of you wants to tell Joel off, to tell him to go fuck himself.
You hear the door to the bathroom opening, then the shower running. You roll onto your back, eyes glaring up at the ceiling. Ten minutes pass before there’s a knock at the door. You pull yourself to a sitting position, holding your knees.
“Baby?”
You don’t answer. You don’t want to listen to him, to look at him. You’re furious at him for this and you’re terrified because this feels like your first real fight together.
When you don’t say anything he gently pushes the door open, dark eyes peeking around the door to see your tear-stained face glaring back at him. His brows saddle and he comes to the end of the bed, just looking down at you.
“So I guess that was our first real couple fight,” he offers guiltily.
“Yep.” You sniffle. "I don't like it."
"Me neither. I'm so sorry I snapped," he tells you earnestly, dropping to his knees beside the bed, but not touching you. "I know you were just trying to help. The stuff at work an’ the heat just got to me."
You shrug. “I didn’t give you space.”
“Space I’ve never asked for before? Nah, I was just bein’ an asshole," he says gently and you see the harshness leaving his handsome features. “Came home like a bear with a toothache. All you were tryin’ to do was make me happy.”
“Still.”
"I appreciated it,” Joel tells you gently. "Just maybe if I'm upset gimme time to cool off. I can have a bad temper at times an’ sometimes I just need to be in my head about it for a bit."
His hand grips your knee gently, squeezing to let you know all is well on his end. You allow it, feeling your animosity leaving you at the exchange.  
"Okay," you nod. "I can do that." 
"So I'm forgiven?"
"Always.”
You lift his hand from your knee and Joel smiles at you, accepting your gentle kiss to his palm without hesitation. He kisses you tenderly before pushing the sweaty hair from your face, his nose brushing yours.  
"I have an idea of how to cool off."
An hour later you're at the movies with its sweet, beautiful air conditioner and giant tubs of popcorn and sodas in your laps. You and Joel pick the next movie playing which turns out to be some superhero fair he enjoys. You smile when he laughs, watching out the corner of your eyes as he does, your heart light because everything with Joel feels possible. Fights seem manageable.
Life is beautiful. 
///
It’s the start of August when you start a part time job at a bookstore nearby. You and Joel discovered it during one of your lazy Sunday morning adventures where you try new coffee places.
 It’s a quick bus ride from your place, but Joel insists on driving you when he can. But today you’ve been let go early due to over-staffing. You don’t mind at all, taking advantage of the beautiful day.
You walk down the sun-dappled streets feeling buoyed. You walk past the strip mall, glancing at the stores that line it. You normally don’t pay attention, but today your gaze is drawn to the sultry photo of the model in the store window.
Where Sensuality meets Style.
You don’t know what you’re expecting to do when you go inside the shop. What you’re not expecting is to come out a half hour later with some of the most scandalous lingerie you’ve ever owned.  It’s black and strappy and shows more than it covers.
The second you get home you jump in the shower before primping. You take the lingerie out of the bag delicately, eyes wide with delight.
The lace black bra is completely see-through and the deep blush of your nipples are easily visible. There are decorative straps that hug the curves of your breasts. The panties match the fabric of the bra, low cut and barely covering your ass. Around your middle is a strappy black garter belt that matches the straps of the bra. You pull on the sheer black thigh-highs, attaching them before spinning, turning to see you from every angle in the bedroom mirror.
You look hot.
Your strappy high heels have been in the bottom of your bag, waiting for such an occasion. You tie them up, smiling to yourself. Joel is going to be very pleased. You pull on the black silk robe that came with your purchase, a thin little kimono-style that barely reaches your knees.
You’re just applying a deep shade of red to your lips when you hear Joel’s truck pull into the driveway. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly spritz yourself with the perfume Joel bought ages ago.
Showtime.
You hear the key starting in the lock and with a dramatic flourish you throw open the door as you undo your robe, letting your lingerie doing most of the talking for you. You strike a pose, hip jutting and tits out.
"Hope you're ready to get your cock sucked Mister Mill-" 
Your eyes blow wide when you see the man on the other side of the door isn't Joel at all. It's a younger man with similar eyes and curls, his hand raised and holding a key to the house that he was in the process of unlocking. 
The man averts his eyes to the ground politely before breaking into an embarrassed grin. You pull the robe around you tightly, cinching it and squeaking in humiliation.
"Now I see why my brother keeps rushin' home after work," the man says with an unsteady laugh. 
Brother. 
This is Tommy, Joel's brother that you've heard so much about. 
Fuck 
Sarah's uncle. 
Double fuck.
"I…uh..." You falter, terror running through you. 
Tommy looks immediately apologetic, his dark brows furrowed. 
"Hey now, there's no need to be embarrassed," Tommy assures you. "Joel's his own man. I ain't gonna tell him he's too old and ugly for a pretty young thing like yourself."
You wonder if you should make up a lie like you're the house cleaner. But no, you can't after you answered the door dressed like you are. 
Triple Fuck. 
"It's not just that," you say and suddenly you feel the blush heating your cheeks. "It's uh... "
"What the fuck is goin’ on?"
The two of you glance over to see Joel pulling his truck into the driveway beside Tommy’s. He nearly jumps out while it's still parking. His legs scissor quickly over the grass, nearing to you. 
You hear Tommy swear under his breath as his older brother advances. Joel sees you in the doorframe, your eyes wide. He glances down your body when he sees you’re wearing a robe before glaring at Tommy. 
"What the fuck are you doin' at my house?"
"Came to get those tools we talked about." Tommy tries to smother his smirk. "Didn't know you had company."
"You could've called." 
"Never had to before." 
“Well you do now.”
The two brothers stare at each other speaking through micro expressions. You worry that a fist fight is about to break out if you don't de-escalate the situation. 
“I’m gonna go change," you say with an awkward laugh.
"I'll grab the tools," Tommy mutters, wincing at the angered look from Joel. "Think they're in the back shed, yeah?"
"Or the garage. Can't remember."
The two continue talking lowly but you’re already in the bedroom with the door closed. Your cheeks are flushed and your heart is beating like mad as you go to the dresser to pull out some jeans and shirt, your hands trembling with anxiety.
What if Tommy tells Sarah?
She'll be devastated. She needs to hear it from you and Joel, not her uncle. 
You hear the bedroom door open behind you and you see Joel slip into the room, his dark eyes on you. 
"I'm so sorry," you say as he approaches you. "I thought it was you."
"Course you did," Joel murmurs, coming to stand next to you. "How could you have known my idiot brother would be breakin' in?"
"I'd hardly call it breaking in," you say with an eye roll. "He had a key."
"Not anymore." Joel frowns, his eyes noting the robe again. "Did you just wake up?"
"No," you say, suddenly shy. "I was... I was wanting to surprise you.”
Joel's gloomy mood is immediately broken. His mouth curves into a broad smile. 
"My girl," he coos, fingers pinching your chin softly. "So thoughtful." 
You want to say more but Joel's fingers are sliding down your neck, ghosting over your breasts and then at the sash untying quickly, eyes wide with anticipation. He practically tears it from you as you hold in a giggle. 
When Joel sees the lingerie underneath you feel his gaze turn ravenous. 
"This is what you were waitin’ to show me?" Joel murmurs, hands trailing down the front of your lingerie. 
"Yeah."
"Turn for me," Joel whispers. You spin gently in his arms, feeling flustered. He grips a handful of your ass, groaning at the sight as it falls. "Fuck baby. I don't deserve this." 
"You deserve more," you tell him, looking at him over your shoulder. 
You spin slowly in his grip, feeling his fingers drag along the sheer fabric. Joel casts an appreciative gaze at your breasts barely contained. He's groans feel the back of his throat, his hands cupping you through the fabric. He sees your nipples and latches his full mouth over one, sucking through the fabric. 
"Joel!" 
He does the same with the other, soaking the sheer fabric and leaving you panting. He twists you gently, his hand sliding over your covered mound. 
"Gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?"
"Now?" 
"Mhmm," Joel murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait when you look that good." 
"I guess I could show you what I had prepared," you tease. 
He watches you slide onto your knees in front of him, hands deftly coming to his belt and zipper. 
Joel watches this with his mouth parted and his gaze electric as he watches you pull his cock from his jeans. He's rock hard and when you swipe your tongue over the head he hisses. 
You kiss the head gently, feeling him twitch with every graze of your full mouth over him. Your tongue comes out to give long, wet licks to the shaft and you hear him groan above you. You place him against your lower lip, watching the red bloom on his cheeks. 
You look the very picture of debauchery on your knees with his cock resting against your lips. 
"Can I please suck your cock, Joel?"
A full-bodied shudder goes through him at your husky plea. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he gives you a soft shake of his head. You're surprised at this and when he tilts, bringing you to a stand in his arms you furrow your brow. 
"Need to feel your cunt, baby," he says grazing his lips against yours. 'S'that okay?" 
You pause, indecision flirting across your features. You're not exactly quiet when Joe is inside you.  He turns you, holding you from behind and urging you towards the bed. But you pause, your pulse thrumming.
"Tommy might hear."
"He never should have come here," Joel tells you as he nuzzles the back of your neck. "His own fault if he hears somethin'."
"Joel!"
"Mister Miller," Joel croons against the shell of your ear and suddenly you understand. The dynamic that started all of this, fucking when you could be caught. He's throbbing against your back and you smile, grinding back against him. 
"You're so bad, Mister Miller," you coo, feeling as delicious goose bumps prickle all over, whimpering when Joel's palm cups your pussy through the fabric.
"Must be what you like, cuz you're soaked," he reminds you, nipping the flesh of your lobe. "Get on the bed for me, bad girl."
His hand moves from your pussy to slap your ass playfully. You barely hesitate before you shoot him a smirk and go to unbuckle your heels but Joel stops you with a firm shake of his head.
“Leave ‘em on.”
You grin up at him before turning onto your stomach, sure to arch appealingly as you crawl on all fours to the center of the mattress. Joel watches this from under heavy eyelids, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. 
You throw yourself onto your back, giggling softly when Joel comes to bracket your thighs with his own. He looks down at you with a heat in his eyes that you can feel burning within you. He leans over your body, warm and heavy and his head drops, mouth coming to lick your hardened nipple through the gauzy black fabric. The other is pinched with his free hand, worrying them both into straining points. 
He does the same with the other, attentive as you sigh in exhilaration. Your thighs band around his waist, holding him nestled against you. His hands are tugging the front of your lingerie down, exposing you to him. 
"Gorgeous," he breathes, huffing along your sternum, kissing down your stomach. It twitches under the contact. 
You give a small gasp of surprise when Joel tugs you by the ankles until your ass is at the edge of the bed. His hands slide up your black thigh highs, inhaling as he looks you over. He brings your legs to either side, hooking your heels at his shoulder before kissing each ankle bone sweetly.
He begins subtly licking his lips in anticipation as he views you, eyes taking their time to see you pliant and waiting for him. His thumbs hook in the waist of your thong, tugging it off officiously over your ass as you squirm excitedly below him. He brings them off over your ankles and shoes, the heels at his ears.
"Wrists together," he murmurs, the black edging out the remaining brown of his eyes.  
You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flush going through your body. You hold out your wrists to him, your own eyes bright. 
Joel smirks down at you before binding your wrists securely with your panties. The fabric is taut around your wrists as you raise your arms above your head, letting them fall back on the mattress.  
"We shouldn't be doing this," you tell him, playing into it as you gaze at him through hooded eyes. "Shouldn't fuck me when he could hear, Mister Miller."
"Maybe I want him to hear," Joel replies smoothly, surprising you. "Maybe I need him to know why he doesn't come bargin' into my house." 
You giggle up at Joel, watching him bring his cock from his pants. He's remarkably hard, the head weeping as he guides it to your entrance. You’re practically folding in half, your legs against his chest, his cock teasing your clit.
"Spread those legs for me," Joel murmurs with adoration in his eyes. "Lemme see how wet she is." 
"Yes, Mister Miller."
Your thighs part and he gives a heavy sigh at the sight, his hands holding your ankles against his shoulders. You lay there bound and exposed to him and you've never felt safer. You exist in the harbor of his love, protected.
Joel's one hand goes to your inner thigh, sliding until it reaches the seam of your cunt. You give a soft whimper as his fingers drive forward, grazing your clit.
"Fuckin' perfect."
Those same fingers begin to curl, coaxing more delicious whimpers from you. Joel watches this all with eager interest, his cock weeping at the sight of you restrained and spread wantonly for him. When he adds a third finger you feel your thighs begin to quake. 
"Don't make me wait anymore," you beg needfully through moans. "I need your cock. Please." 
Joel slowly removes his fingers, slipping them from you to wrap around the base of his cock, drenching it in your arousal before he leads it between your trembling thighs. 
"Anythin' you want, baby," Joel grins down at you. "Anythin' you want."
Joel slides into you with ease. It's not shocking; you're already dripping for him. He lets out a groan before his hands go to your thighs, parting them further, allowing him to thrust deeply, his ass clenching as he bottoms out in you. The two of you give a soft gasp at the sensation. 
“Never felt this good,” he tells you, eyes heavy. “Not with anyone.”
His palms slide down your thighs, grazing over your calves until they come to stop at your ankles. Joel takes one in each hand, pressing a kiss to the delicate anklebones before he's parting your legs obscenely until you’re almost doing the splits below him, your pussy glossy and pink and full of his cock. He holds you open like this, eyes ravenous as he continues to sink into you.
“Attagirl,” he croons as his head tilts back. The sensation is divine and you let him guide your movements, your hands on the bed and your legs held spread by Joel. From this angle you can see him enter you slowly, shaft glistening as he strokes in… and pulls out, grazing your clit.  
"So full," you whimper, eyes rolling and back arching off the bed. He feels so good, so perfectly thick between your legs when he does it again. "So good."
He grips your ankles tightly, dark eyes peering down as he stands next to the bed. Your tits bounce with every drive of his hips into you. 
"Take it all, baby" Joel grunts down at you. "Make me proud." 
He’s still standing, still slightly tilted over you beside the bed. It’s impossible to touch him, only to lay there, spread-eagle with Joel’s cock driving into you over and over, deeper and deeper.  Sweat begins to shine along his shoulders as he fucks into you, little groans escaping him as he watches your body ripple under him.
"J-Joel!" You groan out, hands groping the sheets.
"Not my name," Joel grunts, his hips slamming into your ass. 
"M-Mister m-M-ah-Miller!"
He's going faster, his soaked cock pistoning in and out of your cunt as your body rocks against him. Your hands are in the blanket, gripping there tightly as Joel holds you wider as his pace quickens. Your hips burn, your thighs strain but you crave more. You glance down again, watching as he saws in and out of you, his cock dripping with you arousal.
"Takin' it so well," Joel grunts out loudly when he sees you watching. "Pussy is just fucking milkin' my cock today, pretty girl."
At the sound of your groan in response he fucks into you furiously, balls slapping your ass and making sharp smacking noises in the quiet bedroom. It’s this sound which brings you back to yourself, recalling that Tommy is likely in the house at this very moment, tools in hand.
"You gotta be q-quiet!" You whimper between his deep thrusts. Joel may be fine with his brother hearing the two of you fuck but you certainly aren't. 
"Nuh uh," Joel grins almost ferally. "Not in my house... Wanna hear my bad girl scream my name."
It’s so fucking wrong.
"Say my name," Joel urges. "Wanna hear it when you come."
You're brain goes fuzzy, knowing what Joel requested. But a pleasure is building between your legs and drifting into your veins. It makes your mind work sluggish, unable to form the right words.
“I’m gonna come-“
“For who baby? Say it?” Joel demands, and now he fucks you hard, his balls tightening when you bounce on his cock.
"Daddy!"
Both sets of eyes blow wide at this. Neither of you were expecting that to be the honorific you groaned loud enough for Tommy to hear. But the sound of it is potent and Joel grips your hips tightly in his hands and fucks you deep.
"Fuck yeah you are," Joel grunts out obscenely. "Give it to Daddy."
You try to cover your mouth but Joel is thrusting so quickly, so deep your hands fly to gain purchase on the mattress. 
"You're so deep," you moan, your breasts rolling as he pumps into you. "It's so good!"
You know that if Tommy is still in the house he's heard everything. But you don't care, all you can do is look where Joel has you spread lasciviously, his soaked cock pumping in and out of you. 
"Come on my cock, come on Daddy's cock," Joel chants in a hush, sweat shining on his brow. "Need it baby, Daddy needs it now." 
Joel's collar and neck are pink, his cheekbones red. His teeth are clenched and bared as he watches himself fuck into you. His biceps are curled, holding your thighs widely open for him. 
He's magnificent. 
His eyes roll back a moment, his hips stuttering a moment. He's getting close. 
"Come for me," Joel groans out, his eyes stuck on yours. "Be a good girl and come for Daddy."
And suddenly you can't stop yourself. Your hands are clutching the blankets and your body is arching off the bed violently as your orgasm takes you over. 
"Fuck, Daddy! I'm coming!" 
Joel gives a broad grin before grunting your name as he spills inside you with your trembling legs still spread wide, ankles held by Joel's large palms. 
Finally he comes down, his panting heavy as he collapses into the bed next to you. He brings you over to him, wrapping you in his arms and grinning in your hair. 
"That'll teach Tommy to come over unannounced."
///
The two of you are on the sofa; your head is resting on a pillow in his lap. He's watching the news on TV while you scroll through your text messages. The two of you were out in the backyard today, Joel mowing the grass while you did some sunbathing. The two of you are sunburned and sleepy from it.
Sarah and Charlie are in a club. The lights are low and colorful. The image is slightly fuzzy. Sarah is being held in Charlie's arms and she holds up a glass of something alcoholic judging by the way she's peering into the camera, mouth in a sloppy smile.
Looks like you're having fun!
Chapter c ch jjj JG da
Hah yeah, Sarah's drunk. Luckily Charlie looks in control of his faculties in the photo. 
"Is that Sarah?" Joel asks his eyes catching the edge of your phone. 
"Yeah."
"Lemme see," Joel says reaching for the phone. "She didn't send me a photo today, just a message about some museum."
He's fake pouting, irked that you've received something from Sarah while all he's had this week are texts. His brows rise when you pull your phone out of his reach, holding it against your chest.
"She's... This isn't a photo she'd want her dad seeing."
Joel's face immediately contorts into disgust and you burst into laughter. 
"Not like that," you say between wheezes. "She's at a club with Charlie and they're both drunk. I don't know if she'd want her dad seeing her wasted."
"Yeah probably not," Joel relents after some thought. 
It's the first time you've been the bridge between them. A spy working on both sides. It makes you feel funny, like its wrong that you love both of them. While your love for each is not the same in nature, they have both carved parts for themselves within your heart. 
“Baby?” Joel murmurs from above you.
“Yeah?”
“I need you to know that I’m serious about you n’ me.”
You glance up to his face before pulling yourself into a sitting position next to him. Your heart melts as he gazes at you.
“Me too.”
“So I wanna tell Sarah about us,” Joel says quietly. “I don’t like lying to her.”
He must see the terror in your face because his hand falls over yours.
“Doesn’t need to be while she’s off havin’ an adventure. Don’t wanna spoil that for her. But she gets home soon and when she does, I wanna tell her. If nothing else about this relationship, we're at least gonna do this part right." 
"It's too soon," you tell him with a flutter in your chest. 
"I wanna hold you in my arms out in the open," Joel murmurs against your temple. "I'm tired of keepin' you a secret, like we’re doin’ something wrong. I love you and that ain’t wrong.”
You feel yourself turn to a puddle at his feet when he tells you that. 
"I love you too." 
"Sarah talked about coming back here before her job starts up," Joel explains. "Just for the weekend. I think I need to tell her then."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'll invite her over for dinner and we'll talk."
"What if she's upset?"
"She probably will be," Joel says, sighing heavily. The thought of his daughter being upset with him churns his guts. They've been through so much together, but that's why keeping you a secret is so hard. 
"But I can't keep lying to her."
"I know." 
“So it’s decided,” Joel tells you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “When Sarah comes home next week we’re gonna tell her.”
“Yeah,” you nod resolutely. “We’ll tell her then.”
///
There are few people in this world that Sarah Miller can depend on. 
After her mother left when she was a toddler Sarah’s always had a feel of being forgotten. Of being left behind.
Her dad is someone she can depend on.  Always there if she needs to talk, helping her set up furniture, there when her heart has been broken, there when she needed money or someone to help her buy a car.
He's a good dad. A good man.
And so when the taxi pulls into the driveway on Rancher Street Sarah breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar windows and freshly varnished front porch. A classic Joel move that he does every summer.
She’s several days early since she caught the earlier flight to surprise him. She can’t wait to see him after all these months away. She’s missed him and his silly jokes, his dumb DVD’s and the way he always listens as if she’s the most interesting person in the world.
One the few phone calls she’s made home he’s seemed different as of late. More spring in his step, more smiles, quicker to laugh. She figures it must be the divorce from Tess. The woman had never really understood Joel, even if she was perfectly kind.
Sarah throws her bag over her shoulder, heading into the house.
It’s not just the excitement of being home that has her almost three days early. It’s also because she just got the news that she was hired here at a clinic in Austin. One that pays well and offers benefits and makes her really really happy just at the thought. 
Unfortunately during their time this week Charlie was offered a temporary position over in Santa Fe. An equally amazing opportunity and one that he couldn’t possibly refuse considering his other job fell through. Both of them had been glassy eyed as they realized their time apart would stretch well over six months. 
"It'll go fast," Charlie insisted over dinner one night that Sarah was feeling especially down. "Six months is nothing. And then I'll be back in Austin and ... I think we should move in together." 
Sarah thinks of her dad living in the house by himself and it breaks her heart.
No Tess and eventually, no her. 
///
Your favorite thing about Sunday is that you and Joel take full advantage of it being his day off. You sleep in, tangled in each other's arms. You usually wake up to Joel's mouth on your neck, kissing gently before whispering your name and a raspy "you up, baby?"
He never does anything more until you confirm you're awake, and then he waits for you to take the lead. Sometimes it's a kiss to his cheek and the announcement that you want to go out for croissants at that new coffee shop you both discovered.
Sometimes you press your hips to his and urge him inside you, both of you rocking to a slow and sleepy orgasm. He holds you against his slumber-warmed body as he murmurs how good you are for him, how perfect you feel. 
On Sunday afternoons you lay with your legs over his on the couch. He usually has a book in one hand, the other gently resting on your calf, tracing absently. You’re usually reading your Kindle, eyes wide when you come upon something surprising. Your breathing elevates and Joel always hears it. 
"What's goin' on now?"
"She just found out she has to stab three faeries in the heart with wood daggers."
"Shit, really? Here I thought the whole puzzle-lever thing was bad."
There's something about his focus on you, the intense desire to learn everything you have to share. This support, this focus, it makes you fall even harder for him. It makes your eyes go glassy and unfocused. 
He knows the look. It makes him close his book with a muted slap, dropping it beside the couch before he's tugging your pants down and burying his face between your thighs until you cry out, fingers twisted in his curls. 
In the evening you cook together, something your parents never did. It’s usually something easy like chicken or pasta as the radio hums behind you. On nice nights Joel BBQs with you bringing him a beer as he smiles at you, commenting that he's spoiled rotten. 
Then it's TV or a movie and then to bed where more often than not, Joel urges you onto his lap where he lathers praise all over your body as your hips roll over his. 
Or if you're both tired he simply drags you into his arms and whispers how he can't believe he got this lucky, how happy he is, how beautiful you are. He touches you with affection and care and you repeat much the same, feeling as if your heart could burst. 
It's perfect and quiet and peaceful and you've never felt like this. So safe in his arms, so protected. 
This Sunday however is different. You wake up to an empty bed. You frown, sad not to feel the warmth of his body against yours. 
Maybe he's making breakfast, you think. He does this sometimes, waking you with strawberry waffles. But there's no noise from downstairs, no lingering aroma of sugar and syrup.  Its possible he’s working on emails for the business.
So you stretch languidly before pulling yourself from the warm nest of the bed. You brush your teeth, before padding downstairs. You hear shuffling in the kitchen and smile as you enter. 
"Baby, let's go to that bakery, again" you croon sleepily sauntering into the kitchen wearing nothing but Joel's oversized Miller Construction t-shirt and your panties. "I wanna see if they have those cro-“
The second you see a figure standing by the sink the words die on your tongue.
“Sarah?”
At first Sarah doesn't connect the dots. She's confused to see you here at her house, her mind trying to connect the dots of why her college roommate is here at her house wearing her dad's clothes. For an insane moment she’s actually excited you’re here, thinking that you must have come here for her and she steps towards you, her smile bright.
Then she sees the look of absolute terror crossing your features and Sarah looks to the counter to see two emptied wine glasses probably from last night. She sees the small touches around the home like your jacket slung over the dining chair, a lipstick tube by the microwave.
She takes in how your hair is mussed, like you just woke up here. And then suddenly, belatedly, Sarah puts two and two together. She steps back from you as if you're a stranger who's broken into her home. 
"What the fuck?"
"Sarah I can explain-"
Like some terrible farce, the front door is unlocked and pushed open at that very moment and Joel's voice rings out. 
"I got coffees but they didn't have any of those croissants you liked from last time," Joel calls out to you, his voice turning teasing. "Maybe tomorrow if you're a good girl-"
Joel enters the kitchen with a smile on his face that immediately drains when he sees Sarah standing beside you looking horrified. 
"Sarah?"
He drops the coffees he was holding, letting the steaming contents fall to the ground where no one attempts to pick them up. The drinks just seep it into the tile floor as the three of you cast eyes to one another. 
Everything in you wants to run to Joel, to have him hold you during this awful moment. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be prepared and respectful, not in the middle of some domestic fantasy with the scent of sex still clinging to the both of you. 
And when you see the pure anguish in Joel's eyes when he looks at his daughter you want to vomit. In this moment you would take it all back. The fucking, the kissing, the loving, you'd erase it all if it means Joel never has to experience this pain. 
He takes a tentative step forward to Sarah, blinking furiously for a moment as he steadies his breathing.
"Sarah-"
"What the fuck is going on, Dad?" 
Joel's lower lip trembles as he thinks of how to explain this. But how can he without hurting her? 
"Sarah I can explain," you stay, shrinking when she turns her suddenly furious eyes on you. 
"Well, someone'd better."
You've known Sarah for years. She's been pressed, angry, frustrated. But you've never seen her like this. With the kind of fury that makes you shrink back from her. The kind of anger that radiates off of her and causes you to lose your courage momentarily. 
"Y-your dad... Joel and I are seeing each other," you say wincing at how pathetic that sounds. "We're together."
Seeing each other? You're in love with him. He asked you to live with him. You want to build a life together. You want to marry him one day, even though you’ve never voiced it.
"You're seeing my dad," she repeats slowly giving a mirthless laugh. "You don't even know my dad."
"Honey," Joel says and you both glance up at him. You cringe as Sarah realizes this the same time you do. 
"This is disgusting," she utters with a shudder. She looks at Joel with a look of absolute disbelief. "She's my age, Dad."
"I didn't-" Joel falters and he casts a desperate look in your direction before he's looking back at his daughter. "It's not an age thing."
"Right."
"S'not," Joel insists honestly. 
She stops and you feel your stomach sink when recognition flashes across her anguished face. She looks over at you, grimacing.
"Joe," she says barely above a whisper. "That night I heard you at the bar you weren't saying Joe. You were saying Joel."
"Sarah-"
"How long has this been going on?" Sarah’s voice is up two octaves. "How long?"
"Christmas." 
"Christmas?" Sarah looks ill. "You've been fucking my roommate in secret for almost nine months?" 
"Sarah," Joel warns. "I know you're angry but-"
"I'm not angry!" Sarah insists. "I'm disgusted. You're like twenty years older than her, dad."
"Eighteen," you offer quietly. The dark looks they both give you assure you that your addition was unnecessary. And suddenly Sarah’s attention is on you, her fury focused on the woman wearing her dad’s clothes.
"I brought you here to my house after Conrad dumped you because you said you were so heartbroken and you fuck my dad?" Sarah seethes. "You make it so he gets divorced?"
"Tess and I were headin' that way for a while babygirl," Joel interjects. "Long before Christmas."
"Who made the first move?"
Joel and you exchange a look and it's your cheeks that heat and your eyes that drop to the floor. 
"Me," Joel lies. You don't want to argue with him right now, but you both know it sure as hell wasn't Joel who started things. 
It was you who forced yourself into his room. You who begged him to let you suck his cock. You who rode him, demanding his come. Joel had come around eventually, but there was no question on who initiated things. 
"It was me," you insist. "I pursued him."
Sarah is staring at you with glassy eyes, chin wobbling and the sight of it devastates you. "I thought we were friends."
Now you feel your eyes growing damp. "We are-"
"Friends don't sleep with their friends dads!" Sarah insists and before you can answer she's whirled around to face Joel. "And what the fuck dad? Since when are you one of those midlife crisis guys?"
"S'not a midlife crisis," Joel explains. 
"No?"
"No," Joel says sharply. "This ain't some casual fling. I'm in love with her."
Even though he's told it to you so many times, hearing him say it out loud to someone else has your eyes spilling over with tears. Fuck you wish you were holding him right now. 
"In love," Sarah scoffs with a tremor in her voice. "Bullshit."
She spins quickly and before either of you can reply she's jogged out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The tears are in Joel's eyes along with a heavy dose of panic shot your way.  
"I have to-"
"Don't have to explain," you urge him. "Go."
Joel nods and before he leaves he turns briefly, eyes cast to you. He marches to you and kisses gently and all too briefly. 
"I love you."
And then he's gone, his body striding from the room after Sarah. Only once the door is closed behind him do you allow the sobs to escape.
///
Joel returns hours later to find you sitting on the couch, dressed and looking into space. You’ve packed all your things in your suitcase and duffle. Your clothes are clean and you try your best not to cry when you see him.
He looks exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. You can tell he’s been crying, or trying not to, all day. He looks at you sitting there waiting and you see his brows saddle. You don’t go to him, don’t approach him. You wait for him to sit next to you on the couch.
“Come here.”
Only then do you launch into his waiting arms, letting him bring you into his lap. You straddle him, but it’s not sexual. You do it so that you can hug him tightly, your chests pressed together, hearts beating in tandem.
"She was coming home cuz she got a job out here," Joel explains, your head tucked under his chin. "She uh, she's wanting to move back home for a few months. Til Charlie’s back from Santa Fe.”  
“Makes sense.”
You feel Joel swallow and you pull back, still seated on his lap facing him. He looks so lost when you gaze at him, hand coming to cup his cheek.
“What is it, baby?”
"She says she's not gonna come in the house until you're gone," he says with a tremor in his voice. You see the sheen begin in his eyes, the way he blinks it back rapidly.  
"I don't know what to do," Joel murmurs. 
"You know exactly what you have to do," you answer for him, sounding stronger than you actually feel. "She's your daughter Joel. She had your heart long before I did." 
You both know that this is it. This is the end of your story. For Joel, Sarah's welfare will always be his top priority and if you're honest, you wouldn't respect any other choice. 
"It's okay, I already packed my bags," you answer. Joel looks struck dumb, his brows knitted together.
"You did?"
"After I saw Sarah's reaction I just knew," you say sniffling, your fingers going to a stray thread in the collar of his t-shirt. You twist it around your finger, watching the blood pool in your fingertip. "There’s no way for this to go on without hurting her.”
"I think maybe ... Maybe if we give it a few weeks," Joel tries to reason, but you stop him with your fingers gently coming to press against his full lips.  
"Joel."
You both know it won't be a few weeks. The damage done to Sarah is deep. You both know that just from seeing her reaction. You know that your continued presence here will only increase the divide between them and you know you can't do that to the man you love. 
If she’d come home when she was originally planned there was a maybe it could work. If they’d presented it confidently, holding hands, a united front. If they’d explained it calmly instead of being found out and acting guiltily maybe there was a chance she would have come around. But now? After what she stumbled upon? You can’t say that you would be any different.
Your hand moves from his mouth to cup his cheek once more. The rasp of his beard tickles your palm as you hold him, gazes stuck on one another.
"It can't be over," Joel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't give you up. I just found you."
Your heart breaks at those words coming from the man who wants nothing more than to take care of you, to love you. 
"You have to," you say, sniffling. "I never want you to choose between me and Sarah. It's an unfair ask."
You also know that he will always pick Sarah. He has to, he's a father first, your boyfriend second. You see it in the resigned way he clenches his jaw. It’s why you love him – that devotion, that love.
Joel falls silent a moment, his fingers tracing the small snowflake pendant you haven’t taken off since he gave it to you.
"But she has no right to be upset," Joel insists after a moment. "You're grown, I'm grown, we're both single-"
"You're in the middle of getting divorced and I'm your daughter's best friend," you tell him flatly. "And she found out completely by surprise that we've been together for months and that we'd been having an affair when you were married to Tess."
Joel is solemn. Hearing it all out loud sounds so harsh, so vulgar. But it's the truth and you won't hide from it.  Your head is on his shoulder, cheek pressed against the soft fabric.
"She has every right to be upset. I would be if I were her."
And while it's true, it doesn't stop the hurt. It doesn't stop Joel from trying to think of an alternative.
"I could put you up in an apartment in town and-"
"And drain your bank account? Make you sneak around and lie to Sarah?" You shake your head gently. "I won't let you do that, Joel. And I won’t hide away like a dirty secret, terrified of being found out." 
Joel’s eyes are shut tightly, as if he's trying to block out this entire day. 
"We had months of happiness and love together and maybe we have to just be thankful for that." Your voice is quivering.
"S'not enough," Joel insists, his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "I want you here with me. I need you." 
Tears are falling down his cheeks at the same rate as yours. Even as your lips tremble and your view of him becomes a watercolor blur, you press on.
"Maybe this is what we have to live with after what we did, Joel. Maybe we don't deserve a happy ending."
This is what breaks Joel and you see the light fade from his dark eyes. You see the way his face sobers as you both realize there's no coming back from this. 
You don't want to prolong this heartache. You want to go and cry somewhere private. You want to regroup. 
"I'm gonna call a taxi to the airport hotel."
"I'm drivin' you."
"No Joel," you say, shaking your head. "I... It'll be too hard. I need us to say goodbye here and now." 
You know that if he drives you you'll invite him into the hotel room. You'll fuck all night, making sorrowful promises, extending the pain. You need to sever it quickly. 
Joel sniffles softly before nodding. His eyes are wounded, large and imploring. 
"Can I call you?"
"I don't think it's a good idea." Even as you say it you feel your heart crumbling. "Not for a little while anyway. If Sarah found out..."
"Right."
You see the mixture of pain and frustration in his dark eyes. Your hands go to either side of his face, holding him, thumbs grazing his stubbled cheeks. 
"Don't be upset with her," you urge. "She's done nothing wrong. And she loves you more than anything."
"I know." His voice is soft and you know that nothing in this world could make him care less for his daughter. It's one of the things you love most about him. You lower your hands from his face. 
The two of you lapse into silence and finally Joel brings out his phone and presses it a few times. You crawl out of his lap and the two of you stand beside the couch. Joel murmurs a few things into the phone before hanging up.
"Taxi'll be here in ten minutes."
Joel brings you into his arms, holding you tightly to him and rocking back and forth. For the next ten minutes you hold one another, your face buried in his the crook of his neck. 
"I'm never gonna stop lovin you," Joel tells you plainly, mouth against your temple. "Even if I never get to see you again. I need you to know that." 
You want to say so much to him but your throat has closed up entirely. You want to thank him for loving you. Want to thank him for showing you what real love looks like. 
He kisses you with the regret of years of his love unfulfilled. He kisses you with the desperation of a man who knows his time is up. He kisses you with all he has and then he releases you and now you find the words 
"I'll love you forever, Joel."
Because you will.
He follows you onto the sun baked driveway, the two of you walking past Sarah in Joel's truck. You see her swollen, tearstained face and feel guilt start anew. You never wanted to hurt your friend like this. The only real friend you've ever had in your life. The loss of her friendship is its own kind of pain that burns deep.
Joel fights the urge to touch you, to kiss you again; you can sense it in the way he stands so close to you as the driver loads your suitcase into the trunk of the taxi. 
"Goodbye."
He can't help himself. His hands go to either side of your face, holding you there as he moves his lips over yours, kissing you fiercely. You let him, your hands gripping his waist as he tastes you one last time. 
When the driver gives a loud cough Joel pulls back, his eyes wet again. There are no words left. Only the sorrow of your dual gazes as his thumb strokes your cheek. 
"Promise me you'll find someone who makes you happy," you tell him in a rushed whisper, holding him tightly. "Someone who makes you laugh and feel good and wants to have babies with you."
"I'm not-"
"Promise me Joel," you tell him firmly. 
"Only if you promise me you're gonna find someone who treats you right," Joel all but begs. "No more fucking Conrad’s. No more boys that don't appreciate how fucking perfect you are." 
"No one could ever love me like you do," you tell him through broken sobs and Joel wraps his arms around you. You go to wrap your arms around his waist until you see that Sarah is watching the two of you from the truck with a disgusted look on her face. You pull back from him, trying to summon all your composure.
Maybe it was always meant to end like this. Maybe it's exactly what you deserve for selfishly starting this all last Christmas. Part of you thinks that it’s not fair. That your love should overcome this. But then a larger part feels like it's what you deserve.
Happiness this wonderful doesn't deserve to last. 
“Goodbye, Joel.”
Shielding your eyes from the sun you cast one last look at Sarah over your shoulder, hoing she sees that this isn’t some fling. Praying that she sees the love you and Joel have for one another as she bursts out of the truck and forgives you both.
But instead she glares furiously at you, making your stomach sink as you accept that this is the only possible decision. 
You crawl into the taxi, pulling the door shut and give him the address for the airport hotel. You can't look at Joel but know that he's standing there staring into the cab. 
As the taxi pulls away from the curb you finally tilt your eyes and watch as Joel's form grows smaller and smaller in the back window until he's nothing but a mirage. His voice stays with you though, even and tender and husky.
I’m never gonna stop lovin’ you. 
You absently finger the silver pendant around your neck, musing darkly that snowflakes never last that long.
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imyourbratzdoll · 3 days
Note
I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.
hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.
summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.
warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 
You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.
“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)
“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.
“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.
“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”
Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 
It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 
“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 
He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 
You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 
“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”
“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 
Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?
A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 
He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.
“Do you mean…?!”
Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.
“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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alexxncl · 2 days
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‼️NIGHTBRINGER HDD CH. 4 SPOILERS‼️
masterlist | events | ch. 3
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do we really not get to kiss them ??? not even during hdd???
...i'm in here complaining like i'm not a lesbian but MY POINT STILL STANDS ‼️
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ofc asmo has something with "aphrodisiac" in the name. like what if it was actually an aphrodisiac ???
ik he wouldn't do anything like that against mc's will but however, in the instance that it was consensual, would your nails even dry fast enough before the shit started to kick in ?? like what if you're too horny to function before the polish dries ??? then what
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imagine being such a bad cook that you fuck up sandwiches. LUNCH. MEAT. SANDWICHES. are you not embarrassed?
also how is mc getting from place to place to place so fast ??? teleportation ???? bc in the og timeline it kinda makes sense, though i feel like they'd be more tired than they are rn. in nb though? it makes no sense at all considering the fact that their powers are consistently weakening. which makes me think that this is either the og timeline or some undisclosed au
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uncontrollably sobs. curls up into a ball and dies. implodes into a black hole.
i love sappy sentimental satan I LOVE CHARACTER GROWTH. the thing is, this can be said about the satan from either timeline. nb satan was more mentally and emotionally unstable, but that doesn't mean satan from the og timeline(s) didn't feel just as isolated as this satan did, if not even more so
imagine still not feeling like you belong after living with your "brothers" for millenia? having to act like you're ok and fine with constant isolation and ostracization from the people you want to love, the people which want to love you, but being unable to find common ground and pushing each other away even more than before
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THEN SAY I LOVE YOU BACK 😐 i hate this man but i also love him but i also hate him but i also. more on this here bc i rambled too much
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i couldn't NOT add my man like c'mon
maybe he clings to them so much because he knows they won't judge him offhandedly like his brothers do? bc they won't assume the worst of him at first glance? idk i feel like, other than the obvious reasons, there's more behind why he busts into mc's room unannounced all the time. being alone with self-deprecating thoughts is hard, and having someone else to fill the silence and the negative space with something positive does help
or maybe i'm reading too far into this and being biased bc thats my man
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even if the throne wasn't based around bloodline, unless they become immortal, they wouldn't be able to be next in line anyways 😭 mc is nawt passing those trials diavolo went through either. no ma'am
the king's crucible ?? is that what it was called ???
honestly i can't lie, mc being the center of the world bc they're the center of the boys' world is cute. corny, but cute
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damn they're that sexy ??? bringing everyone who meets them to their knees
minus luke obv
i wanna meet michael...i'm tryna see sum
and bring god and the demon king down while you're at it too...🫣
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daz4i · 3 months
Text
how and why is there discourse about whether or not certain queer identities exist/if people should be allowed(???) to use them. why is "people know their own identity better than you ever could, and they're the only one who get a say on what they are" such a tough concept to grasp
i think if you find yourself offended by the label someone uses (especially if they're a stranger) or think it invalidates your own, it's a good idea to look inside yourself and question why that may be. more often than not, it's a result of insecurity or uncertainty of your own identity (or many other things, but i won't make a whole list here). whatever reason it is, until you resolve it, you shouldn't take it out on people for having an identity you don't understand
many have said it before but it's worth saying over and over. infighting only helps our oppressors. conservatives don't care if you're a cis gay or a xenogender aegosexual aplatonic lesbian, they hate all of us either way. trying to fit in by going for people who are easier targets for them isn't gonna help you, it'll just alienate you from your own community, and you're never gonna please them. the momentary rush you get from hearing you're not like "one of /those/ gay people" is not worth it and is gonna do more harm in the long run, i assure you
also, it is important to me to say this, but having some less than nice kneejerk reaction caused by confusion about an identity you don't understand doesn't mean you're a bad person or anything. as long as you aren't mean to that person, and you take a second to think smth along the lines of "wait a minute, this isn't any of my business" after having said reaction, you're good 👍 a lot of reflexive reactions we have to things are ingrained into us simply by. well. living in a society 🤡 and you're not terrible for having those thoughts. it's your actions that matter, and your second thought (the "wait, why did i just think that?") is more defining of your actual character and morals than your reflex. i know that having thoughts like this, even tho they're unwanted, can very easily make one spiral, so it's important to me that whoever needs to hear this knows this doesn't make you a bad person 🙏 you're good, keep taking actions to be good, accept other people even if you don't understand them, and you're on the right track :)
#i considered adding that last part in the tags but i figured it'll be too long for that 😭#i noticed i'm posting a lot of rants lately. sorry. but i do wanna make sure no one's actually feeling bad over them#if i complain about something that you do or call it mean and such. that doesn't make you a bad person#you can always work to change and grow 👍 it's not easy but it starts with smaller steps than you'd expect#and now i just switched to a whole other topic from my original point. oops#i do firmly believe that any discourse about someone's identity is dumb as fuck#seeing it in poll blogs always makes me 😐😬 like how is it any business for any of us. why is this up for debate#if a person says they're queer then they are. they don't need to pass some test or go through initiation to be accepted#if they feel comfortable with a certain word that's awesome. why does it matter to *you* which word they use#'they're only using this microlabel to feel special' so? is there anything wrong with that?#'this label contradicts [insert other identity that falls under the same umbrella]' ok. but does that hurt anyone in any way#a lot of identities can even be self contradictory. does it matter tho? does it affect anyone in any way?#'they might realize that label is wrong later' again. what's the harm in that.#i don't blame anyone for these thoughts bc like. this is how cishets view a lot of the even more common labels#so you're basically taught to think this way from day one. that doesn't mean you need to stick to that thought process#you might have these reflexes forever no matter how hard you try. but you'll get quicker about moving on from them#but you do have to try. you do have to realize that other people's identities aren't about you#anyway. this post feels like batting at a hornets nest. really hope i don't get some bad faith readers here lol#(i noticed a lot of places one could apply bad faith but like it's 3:30 am i'm too tired to add this many disclaimer.#so i'm gonna trust you to not jump to conclusions and to approach this in good faith okay? mwah 🖤)#also my whole ramble abt morality (in the tags too) is relevant to. any topic really#i may just make a separate post about it really. .....tomorrow tho.
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uselessnbee · 1 year
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so when i project my mental illnesses, neurodivergency and queernes on Mike Wheeler i'm the bad guy but when yall project your own hatred for Mike on other characters (Max, Hopper, Jonathan...literally anyone) then that's fine?🤨🤨
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biff-adventurer · 2 years
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FFXIV COMMUNITY WIDE FYI
-no one expects you to be perfect at rping a non-western character
-however, when rping a non-western character, you shouldn't be doing cursory research by itself
-it is not a high standard for people expect you to take ownership for writing racist tropes by accident. accept your mistakes and move on.
-it is not offensive if someone calls out an action as racist. that person respects you enough to tell you the truth. honor their respect.
-it is not ok to tell people not to feel offended by the mistakes you might make on this journey
-people will inevitably cringe when you get things wrong. it is a part of life. it happens when you learn languages not native to you.
-grow a thick skin. be humble when people offer their corrections.
-it's on you to learn how your character thinks and breathes through the lens of their culture, and how that cultural influence affects them as a person. take care not to literalize this, though.
-ffxiv does not present great examples of cultural knowledge. don't consider it gospel, but inspiration.
-read between the lines of cultural references in regions. be gentle with your assumptions. tread carefully on subjects you write.
-try to learn the irl history, what the irl people think of their own history, and how people talk about their own culture now. watch television, read books, look at philosophies in depth.
-i promise, the real world IS always relevant to the game world. you can't actually escape reality. sorry to be the one to tell you.
-if you don't know what a word means, try to find a different way to write about the thing. 100% of the time, you will find you have avoided doing The Racisms. speaking as an ex doer of The Racisms.
-don't be afraid to ask questions. you look dumber when you assume shit. you might look like a genius if you happen on the right questions.
-have pride in the fact that you are trying. every day, you're getting a little bit better. i'm proud of you for trying your best.
-if you aren't up for the challenge of straying from your comfort zone to learn new things, consider more familiar areas of interest.
-reblog to potentially save other fans of color from future discomfort
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gentlethorns · 11 months
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fuck dude i have got to find a job where i can be self-employed and creative. i cannot be in fucking retail hell anymore
#she bork#tbd#like now i don't deal w customers which is cool but now that i work at like a big retail store and not a little mall outlet the pressure is#insane. and i have bosses who never say good job or thank you and who have set me up to fail by throwing a department on me that i was not#hired to run or trained for and frankly don't have time to run properly either. so every week just starts w me in our weekly meeting being a#fucking piñata like 'why didn't you get this done 🤨 you need to manage your time better 🤨 you're losing sales 🤨' and i'm like i'm trying!!!!#what more can i do!!!!!! and then the side of it i actually kind of enjoy (which is what i was originally hired to do) is very very hard on#my body bc it's a very physical job (i run the team that unloads the trucks every day and like i'm usually helping unload bc i'm not just#gonna stand there and watch while my team busts their asses lol) and now i'm finding out that it's actually not normal to wake up every day#w your joints screaming and stiff and that i might have a chronic condition (doctor is thinking some sort of chronic inflammatory arthritis#but i won't know if my imaging and blood tests showed anything until like mid-june) and i'm like. so even the part of my job that i don't#mind as much is not good bc it's like actively destroying my body. okay sick 🤠 and i don't wanna quit bc i've only been there for like#eight months and this job would be really valuable on a resume but i don't want it to look like i'm a job hopper or like i'm fickle or#unreliable. so i'm stuck here for a while i think. but the pressure is destroying me mentally and i know i need to find a position somewhere#else that is 1. not fucking goddamn retail bc retail will always be hell and 2. not management bc i don't see myself ever really getting#into upper management but lower/middle management gets shit on the most so if i go somewhere else and end up in middle management i'll be#right back to wanting to kill myself in a matter of months. basically i'm tired of expectations and pressure and stress and i'm tired of#waking up at fucking 2:30 every morning just to go in and get shit on and destroy my body all over something that in the end i do not fuckin#care about. i need to make art and be held accountable by only myself. idk i've been toying w the idea of learning how to tattoo and trying#to start establishing some artistic skill so maybe eventually i can do that? not now bc the economy sucks and that's scary lol and anyway i#have to give myself some time to actually learn the skill and perfect a style. but it makes decent money (at least before the expense of#supplies and taxes) and allows you to travel and still work and also it would be fun. and i could tattoo myself so it would cut some#expenses for me since i cannot stay away from the damn needle. idk lol i need to save some money before i buy a tattoo gun or anything but#i'm considering it bc i am going fucking crazy rn and ik this feeling will leave me eventually but i also know it will come back bc it#always does. and i'm tired of just surviving and just making it through every day and every week like i want to be happy and this is just#not doing it for me anymore#ugh fuck why couldn't i have been born w a brain that likes numbers and code and technology. i love being an artist but it makes finding a#sustainable career really difficult bc i feel so restless and miserable when i'm stuck in a passionless job but my passions are not#particularly profitable. hate it here why wasn't i born a capybara no job no responsibility just squint and squeak and sun
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salsflore · 1 year
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#going back to school tmrw and i obviously have Feelings™️ abt that#warning this is a vent? post? idk not really cuz i'm not sad nor do i need comfort and theres nothing for me to really vent about but#well! i suppose you can just call it a way for me to talk about my feelings a little. but the way i am right now? i'm actually fine so if#anyone reads this then don't worry! ya know but. anyways this morning i woke up and overheard something i shouldntve#and for a moment (and what feels like the veryyy first time in my life) i considered if it was worth it to kms LOL a bit overdramatic right#to clarify i WOULD NEVER. i do not want to die but just! very briefly‚ i thought it’d be better if i did#(only for that short short short moment) did i consider if it was truly the best thing to do. like there was a possibility i really would#but i know i would never actually#and now i just wonder what i should do! i guess. like where do i go from here? what am i supposed to do to cope?#how do i get better? very obviously i don’t wanna get stuck in the same sad loop of self pity or anything!#so when therapy isn’t an option‚ and school (an unavoidable) seems to be 85% of the problem‚ what CAN i do if not just tolerate it?#what option is there for me? reach out to my friends? i feel like talking it out doesn’t do anything for me anymore#my calendar is littered with small events and reminders just so i can get by. when does it get better? where do i go from here because it#very much feels like i'm going to be stuck in this cycle forever. i know theres good intentions but i am Very tired of hearing#people say they're there for me and articles telling me to go outside and touch the flowers i!#i don't know what to do with myself anymore. i think i'm going to have to live with this feeling forever actually#but i really do want to get better. i suppose i just don’t know how#⠀mika’s chatroom !⠀
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sexybabystevie · 2 years
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no really. someone tell me why i'm at college
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mxbitters · 2 years
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im gay im tired it’s 2:37 am and i have the overwhelming urge to fold my partner’s socks
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catboyolli · 2 years
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🌠
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sensitivegoblin · 3 months
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Vent
Tw: suicide
#I need a hug#I've got heavy shit on the mind#I'm hypersexual n need sex but at the same time I'm tired of whoring myself out for attention#there's people I keep around even tho I'm 90% sure they're just using me#just seems funny that im suddenly popular when I get the energy to send spicy pics#this is about several people still here and not#I know it's my fault for letting myself be used#but at this point?.....I hate myself so much and I want the attention more than I wanna be safe#I don't see vaule in myself unless it's sexual.....but even then#im seriously feeling broken#my life wasn't horrible I have no excuse to be this much of a loser#but no matter how hard I try nothing changes#I don't think I'll ever feel loved n safe#I wanna fall asleep in arms that are 110% safe#I'm not being used everything's equal and I'm confident I won't be dumped#why am I broken in these ways when I had a good life that people who are actually abused envy#I wish something solid happened in my life so I wouldn't feel like a fake loser#what if God tells me I was subconsciously lazy the whole time#IM NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING but; I'm just really feeling like I'm a bad person who needs to be exterminated#but what if subconsciously I'm just saying that because I want attention?#what if I'm subconsciously making every problem up and I'm just lazy and bad and evil#I really feel like the world would be better off without me even if it makes my loved ones sad#I know this one's far fetched but it's a real anxiety I have and I need to get it off my chest in hopes I'll forget it;#what if in my effort to make everyone happy I'm subconsciously following the devil's deeds cus I'm the antichrist?#right now logically I'm not 100% there#but there are times during anxiety attacks where it feels more than 100% possible that I'm that evil...#I just feel like I'm desperately trying to scrub my subconscious clean and I can't reach these really dark places#I can't see everything and it scares me what if there's stuff I don't agreee with there#I wish someone could understand these feelings but I just think I'm so fucked up m twisted#:( I don't wanna be a bad person
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watercolor-hearts · 4 months
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UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.
1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.
2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.
So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.
Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.
He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.
Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.
Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.
I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.
He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.
I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.
OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.
Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world
PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox
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luveline · 6 months
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hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure
hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k
cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain
Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 
There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 
You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 
"Not this time, Pete." 
"Too bad," he laments. 
You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 
"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 
"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 
"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 
"You want me to wash your hair." 
"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 
You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 
"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 
"Anything else?" 
He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 
He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 
"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 
He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 
"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 
"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 
Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.
It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 
"Wait–" 
He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 
"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 
"About what?" 
You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 
He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, a little." 
He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 
"It doesn't suit me–" 
"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 
"Even when I was thinner?" 
"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 
"No, but you have to say that." 
"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 
You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 
"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 
"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 
"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."
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cow-smells · 7 months
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Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader
Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D
The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25
Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: none
A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)
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“Don't you ever take a break?”
Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.
Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”
You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.
When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.
You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.
The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.
The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.
The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.
The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.
You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.
You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.
So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.
You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”
You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”
You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”
Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.
The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.
You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.
The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.
The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.
In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.
"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.
"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"
It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"
Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."
Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."
You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."
Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."
You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"
You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.
The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"
Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.
The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."
Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."
On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.
From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."
Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.
"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."
And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.
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