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#“PLEASE STOP MAKING OUT AT THE DINNER TABLE”
ev3rgreenxtrees · 3 days
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Sub!Matt HC’s
-M.S
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▐ Sub!Matt who: can’t ever keep his hands to himself. No matter what you’re doing, or where you are. Not only in sex, but he’s just always got his hands on you.
▐ Sub!Matt who: acts all that— until he’s underneath you. Then he’s whimpering and whining, throwing out apologies, begging you to stop, knowing good as hell he doesn’t want you to.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves it when you ride him. Weather that be gentle or rough, he loves it when you bounce on him, slamming down onto his cock.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Hates to admit he’s a sub. Even though he and everyone else knows he is, he refuses to admit it.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Begs you to leave hickeys, but then pouts about it the next morning, claiming his fans would see, and his brothers would make fun of him.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves being bossed around. He acts like he hates it, but he loves it, and you know. That’s why you always boss him around. Telling him exactly what to do in a firm and demanding voice.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Always begs. Even when you don’t ask him to, he always does. “Please, please, please let me cum!” As if you denied him the privilege, knowing you didn’t.
▐ Sub!Matt who: is VERY vocal. He’s loud, he cries, he whines, anything to make noise. His moans are so loud, even his brothers occasionally make fun of him for it, like texting him ‘if ya gon moan at least be on top buckaroo. ur gross kid’
▐ Sub!Matt who: Tries to be punished. He likes it when you’re rough on him, but he’s scared to upright ask you, so he thinks that so long as he’s a brat, he’ll get punished- and he’s right.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Wants to please everyone. This kid takes subspace to a whole other level, wanting to accommodate to everyones’ needs, being touchy and whiny to the people he’s close with. You think it’s adorable.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Always wants to please you. You always claim he comes first, but he throws a fit and pouts. He always wants to make sure you feel good too, weather that be his cock, fingers, or mouth.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Is subconscious of cumming first. He’s not sure why, but he always insists you cum before him, no matter what.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Can’t sit still. You tie him down all the time to still his movements, but it doesn’t work. He always finds a way to jerk his hips when he’s overstimulated or needs more.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Hates to say it, but loves to be edged and overstimulated. He loves crying and withering under your touch, his body betraying his mind when he begs for more.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Always wants to go round for round. Its easier for him to say, since he’s not doing as much work as you, but the kid wants to go forever.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Always tells everyone how good his girlfriend is in bed. He never brings up the fact that he’s a sub, he just states she’s amazing and knows what she’s doing. You love it, but it can get embarrassing at times.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Acts dominant when others are around. Even going as far as grabbing your throat or slapping your ass when you don’t do as told, even though he know’s he’ll get punished for it later.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Is always needy. Watching a movie on the couch with his brothers? He’ll grind on your leg under the blanket. At a party? He’ll sit you on his lap, grinding your ass into his crotch, hiding his face in your neck. At dinner? Under the table. This man needs your touch anywhere.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Claims he hates public sex, knowing good as fuck it turns him on so fast. Trying on a new lingerie set? He gets fucked in the dressing room. Sees you in a bathing suit? He gets fucked in the water. Stressed after a meeting? Gets fucked in his car.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves making a mess. He hates cleaning it up, but seeing his- or your- cum all over the bed, his and your body, he loves it.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Pouts to you when Chris or Nick tease him for being a sub. ‘Ma! Tell ‘em to stop!’ He whines. ‘Matty, they were telling you to pipe down next time.’ You scold, but he whines again, shoving his body into yours.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Complains about you calling him pet names in public. “Baby, c’mon.” you urge the boy. “Hey! Shhh!” He shushes, covering your mouth with his hand. “What, hun?” You ask, pulling away from his hand. “No!” He growls, his cheeks turning red. “Matt!” You gasp.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Is so embarrassed when you compliment him. “You look very pretty today, pretty boy.” You hum in his ear, and his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Has a love-hate relationship with teasing. It depends on how bad he needs you, but sometimes you take too long for his liking, causing the boy to almost cum untouched.
▐ Sub!Matt who: Secretly loves it when you drag him around. “Matt. Come.” You demand, grabbing the boy’s collar on his shirt, and he allows you to drag him around. “Stand up, Matt!” Chris jokes.
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IM SORRY IF THIS ISNT GOOD THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HCS PLEASE GIMME FEEDBACK🙏🏻
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auteurdelabre · 2 days
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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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Text
the girl next door 5
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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As your mother waits in her chair, watching the window, dolled up in her nicest skirt, with her hair pressed and her eyes lined, you follow the directions on the containers of the premade grocer meals. Roast the potatoes, veggies too, and heat up the chicken. It’s very easy, even for you.
You set the table as the oven warms up and put out the nice plates you never touch. You fold napkins under the cutlery like you’ve seen on television and in restaurants, not that you ever go anywhere by the drive thru. It looks nice. Sort of.
You hear the recliner creak and your mother get up. The doorbell rings and you jump. You rush into the entry way as your mother looms in the front archway. You look at her and she sends back and expression with deadly venom. You go to the door and steady yourself, slowly turning the latch.
You pull it open and muster a smile which must appear closer to a cringe, “hello, uh, hi.”
“Hello,” Steve smiles, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. “How are you?”
“Mm, good,” you mumble.
“Great, I brought you ladies some flowers,” he looks between you and your mother as she steps into the hallway. “Something to brighten up the place.”
“Oh my, thank you, Steve,” your mother rushes forward, her left foot thumping a bit heavier than the other, “that is so sweet of you.”
As she snatches the bouquet, a petal flies loose from her tremor. She brings them to her nose, nearly crushing them into her face as her cheek quivers. She’s overexcited and her symptoms more obvious. You step aside as she beckons in your guest.
“You two look nice,” Steve comments as she stops to remove his shoes. His hair is combed tidy back and he wears an oceanic button-up with khakis. He is indiscernible from any other suburban dweller.
“Thank you,” your mother preens and you echo her softly. “Please, come in. I think dinner’s almost ready.”
She glances at you and you nod, “yes, uh, I’ll... go do that.”
You feel Steve watching you. You shrink down and cross your arm over your middle and back away. You turn and shuffle down to the kitchen. You feel how the skirt and sweater let in the breeze around your thighs and reach to tug the hem.
“Grab a vase for the flowers too, honey.”
You let her words trail after you. Honey. The epithet isn’t dripping in her usual poison. You go and open the stove, letting out the aroma of seasoning. It should be almost there.
You search under the sink and find an old mint green vase. You wash it out and fill it with cool water. You bring it out to the dining room and set it on the table. You can hear your mother and Steve in the next room.
She shoves the flowers at you before you can say a word. You take them as she keeps her attention on your guest.
“How’s the house coming along?” She asks in a singsong, “you’ve been doing so much work, I’m surprised you could make the time for us.”
“Of course. Nice to have a few friendly faces around. Not gonna lie though, I do have fridge full of casseroles already.”
You go back to place the stems in the vase. You linger there, safely away from their conversation. You have nothing to add anyway. You’re best to keep an eye on the food.
“Ugh, really? Let me warn you about this place, those bleach blondes aren’t as chipper as they put on,” your mother sneers as you wait for the gravy to simmer.
You don’t think the people around the neighbourhood are bad. They’re just different. Besides, you can’t blame them for their judgment. You might feel the same if you were like them. If you were pretty and perfect and rich.
You hover by the stove and stop the timer before it can buzz. You take out each pan and transfer the contents to thick porcelain serving dishes. You bring them to the table, one at a time.
“Mom, er, Steve?” You peer into the front room, “dinner is ready.”
“Oh, finally, I’m starving,” your mom sighs.
“Smells good. What are we having?” Steve gestures your mom ahead of him, waiting patiently as she moves stiffly. You can see the struggle in the stitch between the brows as how she stops herself from bracing her hip. She’s embarrassed.
“Roast chicken, potatoes, and grilled broccoli,” you explain, watching awkwardly as he pulls out the chair for your mom.
Your mom sits and Steve tucks the chair in. He surprises you as he rounds the table towards you and slides out another chair. You stare at him and your lips part.
“The gravy,” you squeak.
You quickly retreat to the kitchen. You pour the gravy into the spouted dish and balance it by the handle. You carry it carefully through the door and trip on the slightly crooked divider on the floor. The contents slosh and a splatter lands on your white sweater.
You frown and put the grave dish on the table. Steve lingers as he was. You look down at your sweater and he reaches for one of the spare napkins, holding it out to you. You thank him and sit, letting him push the chair in under you. You dab at your sweater but the brown stains remain.
As he sits, just by your mother, she was sure to sit where she would be next to him, you put the crumpled napkin by your plate. Your mother arches her brow at the front of your sweater. You raise your shoulders and give an apologetic look as you slip the cardigan off. You untangle your arms from the fabric and let it droop to the seat.
Steve smiles at you again. Your face is on fire, your chest too. The dress really doesn’t fit right.
“You made all this?” He asks.
“Heh, she bought it and put it in the oven,” your mom tuts. “She’s not the most gifted cook and... and my hands aren’t steady enough for that anymore.”
“Ah, well, food is food,” he shrugs, “regardless, it looks delicious.” He reaches for the plates of chicken and catches the tongs before the can fall, “may I?”
Your mother’s lips curl and she nods, “by all means.”
He puts a piece on her plate, then his own. He sets it back before he grabs the bowl of potatoes and scoops up a heap besides the marinated breast. Finally, he shovels on the broccoli.
You meekly fill your own plate, though you leave it sparse. Just a piece of chicken, a tiny bit of potatoes, and some broccoli. Your stomach is uneasy. You’re not used to company. You poke around with your fork.
“You know, Holly, I finally got all the furniture where I want it but I don’t know,” Steve begins, cutting into his chicken, “I think it needs something... a woman’s touch, maybe?”
“Mmm,” your mother nods and squints.
“I wouldn’t mind picking your brain. Maybe you have some suggestions. I got all these paintings but not really sure where to put them, you know?”
“Right,” she put a sliced potato in her mouth and chews thoughtfully. She swallows and takes her napkin, shakingly blotting around her coloured lips, “well, suppose I could give you a few tips.”
“Really?” He asks, “that would be amazing.”
“Not a problem at all,” she grins, “I could drop by tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that will be nice,” he agrees.
You sit quietly, keeping your face blank. You won’t mention how your mother complained when you tried to hang some of your drawings just in your same room. She always said art was a waste of time. No, you’ll say nothing. You’re better off that way.
“And uh, you’re welcome too,” Steve offers across the table and your eyes flick up to meet his, “if you want. Don’t want to leave you out.”
You glance at your mother. Her eyes narrow and you gulp, nearly choking on the potatoes. You take a breath and push your shoulders up, “actually, I was planning on... uh, I’m busy.”
You can’t even come up with a lie. Not a solid one. Just busy. Busy being alone. Busy hiding.
“Ah, that’s too bad. Well, how about once I get the barbecue fired up, you both come over for a cookout?”
“Lovely,” your mother chimes. “But tomorrow, I’ll swing by,” she squeezes her fork as it tings against the plate. Her tremor is getting bad. “Be nice to get out.”
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niqhtlord01 · 1 day
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Humans are weird: Family Drama
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
To Abarxsis one’s family was something sacred and meant to be treasured. It contained those who were with you from the first moments of your age and would join you along your journey through time longer than any friend or colleague could. It was a feeling he held onto greatly and shaped the foundation of who he was. It was a trait he was glad to see shared amongst many humans as they too sought out family to such an extreme that they would pack bond with anyone or anything to obtain that sense of unity. Yet it was with some great surprise that when he inquired about his human lovers’ family they would refuse to even mention them.
 Whenever the topic of family was brought up their mood would shift like a switch had been flipped and all the joy and expression of them would bleed away and be replaced with a cold chill. Abarxsis learned that it was unwise to bring up the topic, but he still could not let it go until he knew why they were so against their own kin.
One night, Abarxsis was watching human entertainment while his lover slept and saw a strange situation unfold. The protagonist, like his lover, also was estranged from their family and refused to meet them. So the other characters surprised them by inviting their family over without telling them so the two parties could reunite and make peace once more.
This notion of restoring unity gave Abarxsis the idea that he could do the same for his lover and so he set out to track them down himself. It took several months of messages and follow ups until finally he had tracked down their family. When he mentioned that he wished for them to reunite they were thrilled at the prospect and agreed to meet them for dinner.
The day finally came and Abarxsis had taken his lover out under the pretext of a romantic dinner. When the pair arrived the rest of the family was already waiting at the table. They stood and smiled as the pair approached and extended hands of friendship, but Abarxsis noticed his lover had remained frozen at the doorway.
A myriad of emotions went across their face as their eyes focused on the family. Their hands tightened into fists as they looked slowly from the table to Abarxsis, who was still smiling, and glared at him.
“You did this?” she asked through clenched teeth.
The smile quickly fell away from Abarxsis’s face as he realized something was very much wrong.
“Abarxsis did.” He confirmed. “Abarxsis saw how talking of family upset Kelly, so Abarxsis-“
Kelly turned and left the room without hearing out the rest of his reasoning. He turned back and saw Kelly’s family looking confused and went after his lover. She stood out in front of the restaurant pulling out her communicator to summon a hover cab.
“What is wrong?” Abarxsis asked as he came up behind her. Kelly’s head turned to him to see it now awash with rage and anger….and betrayal, much to Abarxsis’s surprise.
“I told you I didn’t want to talk about my family.” Kelly began, her fists still clenched tight. “I had made it perfectly clear that I had no desire to speak with them, or speak of them, or even be near them from the moment we met.”
“Abarxsis know’s this-“  Abarxsis began but Kelly held up a hand to forestall him.
“You don’t speak,” she remarked harshly, “just stand there and listen because I am about to be as fucking direct as I can possibly be.”
Kelly only swore to Abarxsis when she was truly angry so Abarxsis remained silent as she continued.
“My family……”,she stopped and collected her thoughts for a moment as if a torrent of words wished to flow all at the same time from her mouth, “are nothing but parasites; and I have not wanted them near them since the day I left their hellhole of a home.”
“They have leached off me financially, mentally, and emotionally all my life. I was the only one to hold a stable job and they expected me to pay for them while they sat around and did nothing. I was the one they came to when they were dumped by their lovers after they found out they were cheating on them. And when I told them I wanted no more part in their problems they berated me by telling me without them I would not even be here so “it was the least you can do to be grateful”.”
Abarxsis had seen his lover angry before but this was something else. This was not just simple disdain or annoyance; this was a deep rooted hatred that ran through the core of Kelly’s being.
“I left,” she continued, “because it was the only way I could be free from their toxicity and now, despite me telling you otherwise, you have brought that toxicity back to me.”
“But..” Abarxsis spoke unsurely, “they are still Kelly’s family.”
“You were my new family.” Kelly laughed without joy and fixed him with a cold stare. “They stopped being my family the day I left them.”
A hover car slowly pulled up and the door popped open for Kelly. She started to enter when the rest of the family came out and started calling out to her.  Abarxsis watched Kelly look back at him and see her expression now one of disappointment and sorrow, before she entered the hover car and closed the door behind her.
The hover car pulled away as the family came up and began calling out Kelly’s name while shouting recent needs for money or how disappointed they were that she hadn’t spoken to them in so long. Once the hover car was out of sight the family then turned on Abarxsis making the same demands. Abarxsis looked at them with confusion as this was not what a family should be. The love and support he had felt from his was nowhere within the eyes of Kelly’s former family.
Abarxsis came to understand why Kelly did what she did and realized that despite their constant need to pack bonding and need for family, the human concept of family was something not as simple to define.  
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quitealotofsodapop · 23 hours
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Things Wukong has definitely said to his kids at some point:
"*child's name* you get that fuzzy little tail of yours back here before I climb up after you!"
"If I have to get up from my meditation you won't like what happens!"
"Now, why would you want to bite your own tail!"
"*screeches in shock* That's it! No more shadow portals in the house! Actually... no more shadow portals in general!"
"Kids, if you're gonna make a mess... at least try to keep it to one room. Please?"
"Don't make me call your other baba! One! Two..."
"*reaches hand out to scruff a kid* Sorry, they missed snack time. I'll be sure to reimburse you for all the food... and the expensive set of dishware..."
No matter the au (im assuming LMK), Wukong is the more authoritive parent. He's a worrier deep down. Macaque is more likely to let the cubs run wild for a bit and since he hears Everything its hard to hide mischief from him. So if Wukong has to call Macaque in, the kids know its *serious*.
So many chaos babies. So few hairs to make clones out of.
I love the idea of a few of the babies inheriting/learning shadow magic from Mac, and Wukong just has to deal with the occassional portal from the kids room-to-fridge.
One of my fave things about monkey parents irl, is that they will grab/hold a baby's tail to stop them from running off to cause mischief. You can see the tired frustration in the mom's eyes. XD
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First time the Celestial Realm invites Wukong and his mate to a fancy dinner, they quickly regret it. Mac brought the Eclipse twins and soon the banquet table was a massacre.
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jsprnt · 3 days
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you’re pretty upset when you spot your husband not wearing his ring in a recent video
andrew robertson x reader
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A/N: a tricky one, but I think I made it work ;) thank you for requesting!
W/C: 1.427
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a wedding ring
to some, it’s a tangible object that is meant to symbolize the unification of two people. to others, a ring wasn't that much of importance, even paper rings would suffice to signify the love two individuals have for each other.
you were part of the first group. you had never even dreamed of taking the rock off your finger. the only exception being when you needed to get your hands dirty when cooking up some delicious food.
of course, the glimmering diamond on your ring finger was absolutely breathtaking. carefully chosen by your husband. suited exactly to your personal style and taste.
it was something you also tried to do for him. you didn't want to gift him a boring, silver wedding band, bland and basic. so, you'd visited multiple different jewelers until you found the right one.
then, imagine how pissed off you are when you're scrolling on your phone, only to see a video of your husband not wearing his ring during a recent press conference concerning his upcoming match.
you glance down at your own wedding ring, getting more and more irritated by the second.
your husband wasn't even home from training yet, which allowed your anger to boil up ever more, because you couldn’t ask him about it immediately.
you finally turn your phone off, grumbling to yourself, and get up to do some last minute work around the house. it was your turn to make dinner tonight. safe to say those vegetables were chopped too finely due to the fury you couldn’t contain.
andrew usually came home right on time for dinner. so, you decide to eat dinner early, just to interact less with him.
you were being petty, but you felt like him not wearing his wedding ring shouldn't go unpunished.
the front door opens half an hour later, your husband calling out to you from the entrance.
you ignore him, too focused on washing the dishes you used, to answer him, knowing it would become a childish argument.
"sweetheart? are you home?" he calls out, the confusion in his voice audible. you can hear him zip his jacket off, and the jingling of his keys, which he hangs up on the little sculpture you bought to spruce up the entrance.
again, you refuse to answer. drying the washed dishes with the gray kitchen towel and placing them back in the cupboard.
"bonnie?"
you try to ignore the sweet scottish nickname he loved using, too focused on cleaning up.
you can hear some footsteps come closer, his shoes paddling against the gray floorboards.
you decide to turn around when you can feel how close he is. watching his arm reach over to bring you into a tight embrace. though, you move right on time to avoid his touch. escaping from underneath his arms.
he gasps, brows furrowing at your sudden behavior. you were fine this morning, happy as ever, only a little sad about him leaving so early for training.
so, why would you be avoiding his hugs, let alone his touch?
"love, what's wrong?" he asks, trying to analyze your facial expression.
"nothing.." you mumble, avoiding eye contact. your arms folded defensively.
"do you want a hug?" he asks, wondering if you need comfort. he inches closer, but you decide that to be petty - so you shake your head.
"that involves physical contact, and that's gross, so no." you deadpan, words harsh and stubborn.
‘gross?’ he thinks, frowning at your choice of words.
"eat dinner, table's set.." you add, voice quiet.
you immediately turn away, sulking when you catch glimpse of your ring again.
you can hear him call out to you, but you keep on walking up the stairs and step into your bedroom. maybe the comfort of the soft pillows and firm mattress will help instead.
"love, can you please tell me what's wrong?" he pleads, hand stopping you from closing the door.
you gnaw on your bottom lip, sighing while looking at him.
"just give me a moment.." you state, his eyes warm up, realizing you probably wanted a minute to yourself to sort your thoughts out.
"okay, I'll have dinner then..I’m going to come back later..." his voice is soft, just like how he speaks to you when you're crying over something or are feeling particularly down on dark, cloudy days.
guilt immediately creeps up on you. maybe you were being too petty and rude?
no, you always wear your ring- why wouldn't he?
you close the door in his face, shuffling to your bed and pulling the covers over your body.
all different types of thoughts go through your head. were you too dramatic, or were you rightfully upset? was this approach even a good one?
it doesn't take too much time, as you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you shift and turn, sitting up in bed.
"come in.." you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers.
andy steps inside slowly, his eyebrows raising at the sight of your defeated-looking figure.
"bonnie.." he begins, getting into the bed next to you.
"we're literally married. if you're angry at me, just tell me.." he says, hand reaching to carefully touch your hand. eyes on your face to detect any irritation or sadness on your face.
you look up at him when he grips your hand, his bigger hands entangled with yours. your eyes flicker around, finally making eye contact with him.
he can practically read all of the emotions you hold in your eyes after all these years together.
"won't you tell me, sweetheart? are you angry?"
he encourages, thumb running over your knuckles.
"yes, I’m angry- is that what you want to know?"
"about what?"
you sigh, a little embarrassed now.
"you love me, right?"
you notice the confusion and surprise on your husband's face, he starts nodding the moment the question leaves your mouth.
"of course, I love you.. with every part of my being.." he whispers, leaning in closer.
"then why did I see a video of you not wearing your ring?" you confront, facial expression hardening. 
"what are you talking about?"
you grab your phone off the nightstand, showing him the evidence that had you spiraling for the past hour or two.
"bonnie.." he begins, a chuckle leaving his lips.
you almost lash out at him when he laughs. was your sadness funny to him?
"come 'ere.." he urges, patting his lap. you eye him for a moment, but don’t fight back when he pulls you onto his lap.
"listen to me, ye?"
you nod, waiting to hear his explanation.
"remember when we talked about our wedding rings last month?"
you nod, tilting your head in confusion.
"and don't you remember me telling you I had to get mine cleaned?" he asks, thumb making soft and soothing circles on your knee.
you freeze, heat from embarrassment creeping up on your face. you groan, covering your face with your hands, moving your head away.
"hey, look at me, ye?" he says, trying to pry your hands away from your face.
"there's my love's precious face.." he coos, grinning softly at your cute behavior.
he raises his hand, showing off the wedding band that is clearly on his finger.
"you know, I wear it all the time except for training and during matches. if I was allowed to wear it I would..” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss your forehead tenderly.
"I wear mine constantly, just like you do. it's as important to me, as it is to you. you got that?" he asks, running his hand down your back.
you hum, feeling silly and stupid for fretting over something so easily explained away.
"I'm sorry, kind of stupid of me to assume.." you trail off, looking into his brown eyes.
"it's alright, I understand the confusion, but please just ask me about something that’s bothering you, before you start to ignore me?"
you nod, pressing your cheek against his chest.
"I will, I'll ask you before assuming.."
he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your head. the sound makes his chest rumble, in turn, you feel the vibrations on your cheek.
your husband would do anything to please his partner. so, don't you be surprised the next time he comes home with a tattoo on his ring finger.
yes, the needle pressing against the bone of his knuckle hurt like a bitch. but, if it meant he could ease your mind and wear a symbol of his love for you 24/7. he would do it without hesitation.
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thedeviltohisangel · 2 days
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I am obsessed with your writings - like they literally make my day! I’m a sucker for some angst, so is there anyway we can have some more Cass and John angst?
THANK YOU! I am so happy to share in all my little thoughts and the fact that you all respond in the way that you do makes me so happy.
Angst...how about a little post-war this isn't as easy as we thought musings...
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If there was any time for Cass to test the allegedly relaxing properties of cigarettes, it felt like now. John was looking at her with nothing behind his eyes. Like he was made of stone. Her hands were twitching at her sides and she thinks maybe a cigarette would help.
"Please don't speak to me like that." Her arms were crossed over her chest as she put physical distance between them.
"Like what? Like your emotions are invalid to me? Should be fucking familiar to you." Neither of them can really remember how this fight started. Maybe it was the martini or two she had dared to order with dinner. Maybe it was the glasses that had fallen from a waiter's tray and startled John into a cold sweat. Maybe it was the way the man who had shown them to their table looked at the skin of her thighs for an extra beat. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
"Oh? Yes, John, I'm such a cold person who never understands your heart." He lit his own cigarette and stood from where had been sitting on their bed.
"It's hard sometimes, Cass, to be with someone so capable of closing off their humanity." She felt nauseous at his words. They were a punch straight to her throat. "I'm sorry we can't all shut it off like you. I'm sorry I can't just forget it all and move on the way you have."
"I never asked you to do that." He scoffed as he looked at his shoes.
"You don't have to. It's there in the way you look at me every morning." John was having trouble getting the nightmares to stop. Cass looking at him like he would break was not helping.
"No, I don't want to force you into talking about something that you don't want to. I'm trying to meet you in the middle."
"It's fine. Just another thing we'll hopefully figure out before it ruins us, right? Add it to the fucking list." The tear rolled down her cheek as he walked past her and out the door.
Her hands were shaking.
She needed something stronger than a cigarette.
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jadedxhearts · 2 days
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"𝐈'𝐦 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮"
original ask: "Hi jadedrrose I COMPLETELY LOVE ❤️❤️❤️❤️ the Jealousy and The Experiment you wrote for Law!!!!! They are sooo good and addicting!!!! I was wondering if I can please request Law x female reader NSFW with Dialog Prompt 1. “I’m in love with you.” Thank you"
originally posted on July 25, 2022
Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!
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You’d honestly thought you’d never see this day come.
When you had began dating Law, you knew from the start that he would be very closed off at times, and it would take a lot of work to form a bond between the two of you, to trust and love one another.
Not that you doubted him, but you just didn’t expect to get this far. If anything, you doubted yourself.
Today marked the day that you’d been dating Law for a year. Really, you were quite pleased with how the last year had gone. He’d really opened up to you, and you were very happy with him. But he had yet to say those words;
“I love you.” Or something along those lines, at least.
It’s not like you were upset about that, though. Law wasn’t the most affectionate man, preferring to keep all that stuff private and only saying things when he truly meant it and was ready to say so.
So here you were, staring at yourself in the mirror of the women’s bathroom on the submarine (conveniently there were only two women, so you always had plenty of time to get ready).
You’d put on a nice dress, a satin blue one. You figured Law would like it, or at least you hoped he would.
Looking over your makeup one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and made your way up to the outside part of the submarine.
When you walked out, you noticed that there was a table with two chairs set up, Law sitting in one of the two, some fairy lights, and the guys all bothering Law, it seemed like.
“Tell her that she smells good?” Penguin suggested.
“Or that she’s the prettiest bear around!” Bepo chimed in.
“Bepo, you’re the only one who’s a bear…” Shachi reminded him.
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Enough! You guys are all idiots. No wonder none of you can get a girl to like you,” Law snapped.
The four then looked towards you with wide eyes upon hearing your laughter.
The three crew mates scurried away, leaving you and Law.
“We’re they giving you pointers? As if this was the first date?” You asked, still giggling.
“I guess,” Law answered. “I shouldn’t have asked them for any advice. They know nothing.”
You sat down across from him and smiled at the food laid out before you. A mix of both you and Law’s favorite dishes. Plus some wine.
“Aw, did you set this all up?”
“Most of it, yeah,” Law bashfully replied.
Your heart felt all warm and fuzzy, thinking about all the effort he went to just for you.
After the dinner, Law had taken you back to his room, and now you found yourself laid out on the bed, the skirt part of your dress pushed up as Law had a firm grip on your thighs, holding them apart as he licked at your soaked cunt.
“You taste better than that damn dinner those idiots made us,” Law muttered against you, moving his lips slightly up to suck at your clit.
“Mmm, Law… don’t stop,” you moaned.
“Not even to tell you how good you taste?”
“No!” You whined, pushing him back into your wetness, hands tangled in his hair.
As he continued sucking at your clit, he removed a hand from your plush thighs and began teasing you, touching your folds but not inserting his fingers at all.
“Sh-shit! Just finger me already!”
“Who’s in charge here?” Law asked, tone more stern now.
“You, Law… fuck.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, a grin on his face as he returned to what he’d been doing, only this time he did put his fingers in you.
His long fingers moved at a fast pace, and the suckling at your now swollen clit was becoming harder and making you feel like you were going to pass out.
“Fuck, Law… I’m gonna cum, fuck. D-don’t stop.”
He tried pushing his fingers in further, not stopping for a second. And when he added a third…
You let out a loud, nearly pornographic moan and let go of his hair to lay back, throwing your arms around your face.
Law pulled away from your pussy, smirking as he pulled your head up and presented his fingers in front of your mouth.
“Suck,” he demanded.
You opened your mouth and let him slide his fingers inside. His eyes never left your lips, watching the way you sucked on and lapped up all the juices on his tattooed fingers.
Once he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers away and moved to get his jeans off. He then sat up against the pillows, motioning for you to come sit on his lap.
“Want you to ride me,” he told you, arms wrapping around you as you hovered over his cock.
He leaned forward and locked lips with you, kissing you passionately as he slid his length inside you. Unable to control your moans, you let out a long one that was muffled by his lips, but you could feel him smirking at the noise.
“That’s right, ride my cock like a good little slut,” he praised you, holding you tight and continuing to kiss you. “Moan into my mouth.”
So you moved your hips faster, and moaned with every thrust. You loved the way he stretched you.
“Shit, I’m already so close,” he muttered against your lips.
“Me too,” you cried. “Law, let me cum again, please- agh.”
He angled his hips and began rubbing circles on your overstimulated clit, telling you to cum on his cock and squeeze him nice and tight.
With another lewd moan, you came for a second time, followed by Law releasing his own cum inside you.
As you pulled away, you could feel your mixed juices spilling out of your cunt and down your thighs, dripping onto Law’s lap.
You collapsed, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently, too tired to fully go for his lips.
He held you close, rubbing your back and helping you relax after the intimate session. As he laid there doing so, he couldn’t help but feel… strange. His heart felt full, and the sight of you right now was simply so beautiful to him.
Law knew then, he was ready to say it.
“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out, interrupting the silence.
You blinked, eyes wide and you just couldn’t help but to start smiling from ear to ear.
“You… are?”
“Yes. I’m sorry it took me this long to say it, but I love you, (Name)-ya.”
So you hugged him tighter, this time planting a firm kiss onto his lips. “Don’t apologize. I don’t care if it would’ve taken you thirty years, I’d still be glad and feel the same. I love you too, Law.”
For the first time in a while, he smiled. A genuine smile. Law was glad that you’d been so patient with him. He wouldn’t regret this, loving you. Even if he was worried about losing you, he’d come to realize that it didn’t mean he couldn’t love you.
So, he decided from this moment onward that he’d always make sure to tell you how much he loves you, and to make sure you felt loved forever.
And you couldn’t be happier.
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spitinsideme · 5 months
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Kinger, Zooble and Jax make an intervention to Pomni and Raghata because they’re too horny and they’re tired of them making out everywhere. Like during the intervention.
yesss ... they are FED UP WITH THEM MAKING OUT !!! LIKE GIRLS STOP KISSING WITH INTENT TO EAT EACH OTHER OUT AND INSTEAD EAF YOUR FUCJING FOOD !!! pomni is pissed that theyve been disturbred
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zooble has just given uo at this point
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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mmmm thinkin abt mike struggling to be quiet when you’re fucking. SMUT 17+
you were watching abby that night, and as soon as mike got back from work he was on you. peppering kisses along your neck when you were around the corner just out of abby's line of sight, rubbing little circles in your thighs at the dinner table, sweetly asking you to stay longer even whenever the lights were off and abby was tucked in bed.
you knew his plea would result in the two of you in his bedroom, you slowly sinking yourself down onto him. you'd encouraged it, telling mike you'd give him wanted on one condition.
"anything," he'd said, eyes big and earnest.
"you gotta promise to be quiet." your pinkie hovered between you both, waiting for mike to interlink his. he did with a smile, as if it were something easy.
but mike couldn’t stop moaning. his sounds were cute, little gasps and whines. they were arousing. but they were entirely too loud for the low level of privacy you had within the four thin walls.
“mike, please. you gotta be quiet.” you plea through your own barely concealed moan.
he sighs, face scrunching. “i know. i’m sorry, baby. i’m trying.”
but apparently not hard enough as you’re forced to lodge your panties between his teeth, a muffler for his moans. he lets you do so, opening his mouth and even going so far as to make a show of sticking his tongue out for the blue cotton fabric. yet, his sounds still leak through, and you voice an idea as you’re bouncing on his cock, nails lightly scratching down his chest.
“still so loud, mikey. we might have to get a muzzle for nights like these. what’d you think?”
mike's groan practically echoes. he seems oblivious to his own noises, instead thinking with his dick that starts to piston up into you, mike's nails digging into your ass to provide him with leverage.
your hand slaps over his mouth, colliding with soft cotton and warm skin, and mike finally wrenches his eyes open. there's vibration against your hand, short and resembling the pattern of syllables, and you slowly peel your hand away, taking the panties with you, to hear him speak.
just a simple word, curt and quiet and whimpered.
"please."
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snoopyearss · 27 days
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
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Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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augustinewrites · 7 months
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“itadori, please respect his personal space—”
“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”
“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”
peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.
you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.
a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.
[satoru]: send nudes?
you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.
peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.
he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.
but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.
when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.
luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.
he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.
[satoru]: haha jk
[satoru]: unless…?
huffing, you quickly type back a response.
[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.
[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)
“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”
“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”
yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!
megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.
sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.
thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.
he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.
your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.
[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?
[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…
[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you
oh, that’s actually kind of—
[satoru]: nude, preferably
maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.
[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.
there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.
[satoru]: shit
[satoru]: is this a scene?
you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.
[you]: i hate you
he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.
you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.
once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—
you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.
he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.
you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.
“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”
“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”
“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.
you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”
“a nap does sound kind of nice…”
he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.
“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”
it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.
so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.
because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.
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saekkas · 11 months
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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
summary: in which someone flirts with them, but they're only looking at you.
includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.
notes: this one's shorter than the one before but still, go wild my loves <3
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐘 who values you very much. is the type to be very secure in the relationship; doesn't like any unnecessary drama and is definitely ready to move onto the next stage. wouldn't really care about the other person but will not tolerate having his boundaries crossed. especially when it's clear that he's yours and yours only.
isagi, yukimiya, bachira, nagi.
his eyes are on his phone, feet tapping against the tiles of the cafe. it's a hole in the wall that he's used to frequenting with you, so much that the staff know your orders by heart. the line is short, seats mostly empty, as the rush hour has passed. the rain is pouring against the window beside him, and he taps his finger on the table to their rhythm.
tilting his head, his eyes find you in the middle of the line. you're focused on the menu, your bottom lip between your teeth as you scan the list of food and beverages. it makes him smile, chuckling under his breath because he knows you'll end up getting what you usually do. he gets onto his feet, wallet in hand, when you're finally set to order.
"hi. good morning, how are you?" your sweet voice tickles his ear as he approaches, his heart warm and sated as you go through your usual routine.
"hey." he presses a kiss to your head, wrapping a hand around your waist. his lips trail down, stopping at your cheek, a smile pressed against the skin as he hears you giggle. "what's taking so long?"
the cashier smiles, amused at the sight. "mornin' i'm great. how about you two lovebirds?"
"we're good," he answers for you both, an easy-going expression on his face. he looks down, scrunching his nose at you while you giggle at his answer. "just waiting for this angel to finish ordering."
"we'll have matcha latte, caramel macchiato, and a blueberry cheesecake please. the usual." he tilts his head, looking for your confirmation. he smiles proudly, chest puffing when you nod your head.
"i'll pay," you say as you show your card to the cashier, smiling at her. he chuckles, letting you take the bill this time. "how much will it be?"
the drinks are out in a second, the green and brown a contrast against each other. there are two pairs of utensils on the plate, and he thanks the staff for their work, taking the tray into his hand. "i'll take these to our table first, okay?" he looks over his shoulder, a gentle look in his eye as he processes just how... domestic this all feels.
"yeah, i'll be there in a minute. i need to go to the bathroom." you smile at the cashier one last time, tucking your purse into your bag. you glare playfully, poking your tongue at him. "don't you dare finish the cheesecake before i'm back."
he pokes his tongue back, a laugh breaking loose from his chest. "no promises."
he sits back down, placing the food on the table as he goes back to drumming his fingers. the rain doesn't look as if it'll be stopping any time soon, wind combining with water to shower the earth clean. he looks at his watch, mentally thinking about making dinner later with you. a smile grows at the thought.
there's a shadow in the corner of his eye that he assumes is you. he smiles, ready to lean over and press a kiss, only to stop when his eyes meet a stranger instead. "sorry." he backs away, a furrow in his eyebrow as he looks around, searching for you. "you've got the wrong table."
"no. it's okay. i've definitely got the right table." the stranger lays it thick with a high-pitched tone, and fluttering eyelashes. "hi, handsome. here's my number."
he watches as she slips a piece of paper onto the table, confusion blending into annoyance when she leans over to take his hand. "look," he says with a frown, pushing his hands into his pockets. he's very obviously looking in the direction you went off in. "you've got the wrong table and i'm already with someone."
"ah but i don't see this someone?" the smile on her face is pushing at his limits. his jaw ticks when she moves to sit beside him. "c'mon, handsome. give me a chance."
the bathroom door by the end opens with a creak, and his head snaps at the sound. before she has time to reach over once again, he's quick to swerve away to your side. you're already eyeing the girl at your table with curiosity, your head tilted in question. "hey, who's that? one of your frien-"
he doesn't let you finish. he's quick to reach for your waist, tugging you into a kiss with a hand cupping your cheek. all negative feelings drain from his limbs, turning him into a puddle of love as you thread your fingers into his hair.
"as much as i love your kisses," you say with a gasp of breath as you look up into his eyes, finding love looking back at you through the orbs. "that was a bit sudden. did something happen?"
"not at all." he shakes his head, nuzzling into your nose. his hands are on the side of your neck, lovingly stroking the skin. "not now that you're here."
you look back at your table, seeing it empty, and the girl from before nowhere in sight.
"shall we enjoy our drinks?" he pushes you with the hand he has on your waist. he sits down first before pulling you to sit right beside him, your hands intertwined under the table. "can't wait to eat dinner with you later."
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. he won't say no to playful flirting since it feeds his ego but will only respond if you're somewhere near or in his field of vision. he won't give the other person any of his attention if you aren't. will think it's funny that they're trying their best but will either shoot them down in a way that crushes their pride or brush them off as if they don't exist.
reo, aiku, karasu, kaiser.
the bass is thrumming against his skull, a tune that doesn't fit the mall's calm and serene energy. he's sitting on one of those plush sofas in a clothing store outlet, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waits for you to finish changing. he feels the warning glare the manager's sending, and he snorts as if trying to go into the dressing room with you is a crime. he would be so much more satisfied with you between four cramped walls than in the wide space where people are obviously gawking at him.
"excuse me." someone calls his name timidly, and he cocks his head towards them, wanting to see where this goes. they send him a smile, one that's too teethy and falsely sweet but hey he can't fault them for not flashing his favorite smile; they aren't you after all.
"yes?" his reply is short and blunt, but he sighs when the girl flinches away. you've always said that his resting face looked too mean. he chuckles at the thought.
shaking himself out of his daydream, he shows his best smile. he leans back, arm stretched out against the back of the couch as he adjusts his pose, manspreading. a peacock, you'd once muse when he first did it in front of you. he watches with thinly veiled boredom in his eyes, a juxtaposition to the sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. "can i help you with something?"
the girl flushes, biting her lip and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. being coy, he realizes with an amused scoff.
"sorry to bother you. it's just- you looked so bored. i thought i could entertain you."
his eyebrow quirks at the word entertain, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "and how would you do that, hm?" he takes her in, taking in her choice of clothing and hairstyle. cute he'd give that much to her. nothing like you, though. she couldn't compare.
he realizes belatedly that the once over was seen differently than what he meant for it to come across. amusement flickers in his eyes when she flushes a bright red, fidgeting on her spot. "you do this often?" he tilts his head, eyes half-lidded, trying to gauge her reaction. "flirting with random strangers in the mall of a hobby, eh?"
"just the handsome ones," she says with a giggle. he watches as she points a finger to the row of clothes, her interest clear as day. "how about we look around? buy some clothes or jewelry so we match."
he chuckles, shaking his head at the thought. he can't wait to tell you about this. right on cue, the door to your dressing room opens, and you step out. his breath gets stuck in his throat, his eyes widening, and a grin making its way to his lips.
the black dress you have on is nothing short of stunning. it tapers off to your knees, the material hugging your curves. he sends you an eager look, one which you giggle at. you turn, showing him the back of the dress, keeping eye contact as you do. his mouth falls and thoughts short circuit as his eyes rake down your bare back, stopping just before your bum.
oh the things he'll do to you in that dress. no wonder the manager was so adamant on not letting him join in on the fun.
"nah," he says distractedly at the girl still waiting for his response. he sends you a wink and a flirty smile, mouthing one moment, before turning back to her. "see that gorgeous specimen right there? yeah i'm hers."
"she and i, we match." his eyes are filled with mischief as he tugs his shirt down, showing off the collection of marks you left on him last night. the skin around his collarbone is red, purple, and bruised. littered with love bites. a symbol of your love he thinks smugly. "see?"
there's pride blooming in his chest, a smug smile forming on his face the moment her eyes widen and the color drains from her face. "i'm not interested in anyone who's not her. so scram." he's quick to wave her away, skipping over to tug you back into the fitting room, this time with him in it.
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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐂𝐄, the type to literally not care at all. will not give them time of day and will appear hostile if necessary. but he'll mostly just look at them, expressionless with dead eyes.
sae, rin, kunigami
there are so many options to choose from, he frowns, glaring at the row of refrigerators stacked next to each other as if they've done something wrong. the supermarket is relatively busy, customers ranging from middle schoolers to elderly. he's in the drink section, passing one fridge to another, looking for your favorite drink from outside the glass, his frowning reflection looking back at him.
you're somewhere in the dairy section, picking out pints of ice cream, and who knows what else. he checks his phone, checking for any new messages from you. i'll head over soon, after i find the popcorn, it reads along with multiple hearts and photos of you smiling beside the ice cream. he shakes his head, tapping a finger against the screen to save the photos.
he pockets his phone, ready to move on to the next isle when he bumps into someone. he huffs, his eyes looking at the girl that's staring right back at him.
"really?" she says with a flirty giggle after she gets a clear look at his face. he remains stoic, hands in his pocket, even as she nudges him on the shoulder as if a longtime friend. "you're handsome but if you don't say sorry when you bump into someone, they'll lose interest. but maybe that's your charm."
he moves to slight past her, not at all caring about her presence, but before he knows it, she's stuck a hand into his back pocket, sending a kiss playfully before bounding over somewhere he doesn't give a damn about. the frown on his lips deepens, but before he has the chance to look into his pocket, you pop up right beside him.
"hey, i can't find the drinks but i've got everything else." he hears you say as you show him your basket full of things, smiling up at him. there are all kinds of things in the basket, ranging from chocolate, popcorn, ice cream, sausages, and many more. tonight is monthly movie night and he tries to shake off the weird encounter from his mind, not wanting to dampen the mood.
he smiles back, leaning down to take the basket from you. the hoodie you have on is his, and it dwarves you. the hem reaches your knees, and he can't see your hands which makes him chuckle all the while more. you told him that you were cold, he knows it's just another excuse to wear his hoodie.
"let's go home." he ruffles a hand through your hair, affection getting the best of him, before taking your hand with his other.
he drops the basket on the self-checkout counter, and helps you scan all the necessary items. he eyes the chupa-chups by the counter and grabs two, strawberry and cola, scanning both and handing them for you to choose. he chuckles when you brighten, choosing the strawberry for yourself.
"i'll take the bags." he takes both bags into his left hand, the other placing itself on your back. he leads you out, shaking his head in amusement when he feels you slip your hand into his back pocket.
"hey what's this?" the tone of your voice has him frowning. "i didn't know you smoke. it's bad for you, ya know?"
looking down at the cigarette in your hand, he eyes the scribble of numbers surrounding the stick. ah that's what she slipped in, he sighs. taking the cigarette from you, he's quick to throw it to the ground, crushing it with his foot.
"i don't," he chuckles at the look of disbelief on your face. leaning in, he plucks the candy from your mouth, pressing a kiss and pushing his tongue in. you taste sweet from the candy he notes, you smell like ice cream too. he's quick to pull back, chuckling when he realizes just how flustered you've become.
"i prefer sweets," he says with a smug smile before popping the candy into his own mouth.
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hoshigray · 6 months
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𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 | fushiguro tōji
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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Toji being a pxssy-eating menace man idk, we all watched the same episode, ykw scene I'm talking about!! like sir put that tongue away before i suck on it :/ @ramonathinks ahemmm, I did it (,,>﹏<,,)
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (f! receiving) - biting/nibbling (ankle, inner thigh) - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - overstimulation - impact play (pussy slaps) - pet names (baby, mama, princess) - heavy depiction of receiving oral.
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“—Hahhhn! Uhhhn!! T–Toji, stop—Ehhkk!!”
It all happened in a flash, way too fast for you to comprehend. The man hadn’t said a single word to you when he came home; you greeted him sweetly when you saw him from the other side of the kitchen island. You were just about to get ready to cook dinner for the night. Next thing you know, the man brings his lips to yours, surprising you with a squeak when he sweeps you off the floor. 
He brings you to the dinner table, immediately having you lie on your back. His kiss continues to become more passionate, drowning your moans with the thrust of his tongue in your mouth, and his hands prop your legs apart after pulling your bottoms off of your legs. Exposing your panties, you break the kiss with a bashful tone. “Toji, wait! Don’t look at—Nnnmph!”
“Heh, well, look at this,” the older man whistles, noticing the lacy designs of your undergarment. “What’s the occasion, lookin’ all sexy fr’ me, mama?” He doesn’t even give you time to respond to his rhetoric. Toji’s fingers press into the crotch panel of your underwear, teasing and sinking between your folds. To and fro motions of his digits evoke whimpers past your control, and it only takes seconds for a wet spot to come to fruition on the material.
He slips one finger inside your leaky entrance, and a sharp gasp is released from your pretty lips. Toji notices your legs quiver and his touch, bringing one to rest on your shoulder. The space between you two is soon filled with erotic noises coming from your lower region, coating his digit with your wetness as it brushes the gummy walls of your chasm. 
“Ohhhh, ohoooo, Tojiiiii, yourrr fingersss,” You try to say something to him, but it’s to no avail as he slips in his middle finger. The addition of another thick digit has your body jolt upward. He snickers, kissing and licking your ankle as his emerald eyes scan your reaction. 
“Hmm? What about my fingers, baby?” Oh, he knows; he just loves to tease. His hand pulls your lace material off and has it meet the wooden floor, your bare cunt finally freed and wet for him. His fingers slide back easily, his fingertips scraping your velvety texture with precision. The heat on your face makes your ears ring, along with the noises from Toji playing with your pussy. 
Then suddenly, you choke on your spit when you feel his thumb on your clitoris. Oh, it has you seeing stars as he presses the delicate bud down. “Ahhhck!! Ahhaann!! T–Toji, nooo!! I’ll cum, I’ll—OhJesussss…” 
His thumb then swipes your clit, and it has your back curving up to him. “What’s that, princess? Wanna cum for Daddy, huh?” He bends down to observe your blissful expressions fully, massaging your thigh with his free hand.
“—Yessss, please, lemme cummm..” You sound real pathetic with your words slurring out like that, but your brain is gradually evolving to mush. It’s embarrassing, yet worrying about your responses is the last thing on your mind now.
However, he doesn’t use his fingers. No, no. He withdraws them from your slit, and the whine you let out only feeds his ego. Instead, he kisses from your ankle to your inner thigh, nipping and nibbling your skin as he ventures down. And when he approaches your bare cunt, he tantalizing licks your folds and clit, his hands keeping your hips in his stronghold to prevent you from removing yourself.
You can squirm all you want, but it won’t stop him from having his lips stuffed into your swollen lips. His tongue circled and lapped around your folds and clitoris with a vigor that could shut you down. And if you keep trying to escape his feasting, Toji won’t hesitate to correct you with a slap to your cunt, a sharp and choked sob comes along with the quick pain before he returns to lapping your essence. Your climax climbs up tenfold – it hits you before you can even prepare yourself. 
With shaky legs and an elated wail, you come into this man’s mouth. Your eyes begin to water as your body experiences the electrifying shocks crawling up your spine, your chasm contracting through the high. And Toji happily takes it all in, his nose buried close to your clit while drinking your release. It’s all too much to bear, your mind stuck in a haze, staring aimlessly at the dining room ceiling. 
Finally, when your body stops shivering, Toji removes his lips and fingers from you, licking access from his scarred lips and digits. Here, you can finally get some grounding, your breathing falling into a fixed tempo and the fog that clouds your brain up— “Eyaahhhh!!”
Or so you thought. Because Toji then gives your sensitive folds another smack, your cries dialing to screams when his thumb and forefinger return to pinch your clitoris. Tears form and threaten to fall as the man grins hard.
“C’mon, mama. I know ya can cum fr’ me more than that. Be a good girl and keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty, ‘kay? 
Oh, poor you. It’s a good thing you didn’t leave anything cooking yet.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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heytheredelulu · 23 days
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Temptation
Bucky Barnes x Reader
18+
Word count: 1.5k
POV: You text your boyfriend a nude selfie while he’s working and now he can’t stop thinking about it.
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“You ain’t even touched your dinner, Sarge.” You said with a frown, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.
Bucky set his fork down and raised an eyebrow at you. “Sorry doll, but it’s hard to think about anything other than bending you over this table after that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He replied, a smile playing on his lips.
Your mouth fell open and you uncrossed your arms, shifting slightly in your chair. “Oh.” You breathed out.
He nodded slowly, pushing his chair back and standing up. “You thought you could send me picture of those pretty tits of yours while I was in a briefing and I wouldn’t wanna come home and watch ‘em bounce while I fucked you stupid?” He asked.
Your cheeks grew hot and you looked away, chewing your bottom lip, his words sending a wave of arousal crashing over you.
“No, you’re not gonna play shy, doll.” He said, his voice taking on an almost menacing tone. “You weren’t too shy to make my dick hard when I was workin’. I gotta say, I was pretty disappointed when I came home and found you settin’ the table for dinner instead of laying up on it with your pussy spread open and waiting for me.”
Bucky reached out and snatched your wrist, pulling you to your feet. He tilted his head as he waited for you to respond but as your eyes drifted downwards and landed on his cock, hard and straining against his jeans, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Without a moment of hesitation, he grabs you roughly by your hips and forces your jeans down, splaying his large hand across your back to push your chest forward to meet the table. He takes a step back, admiring your bare ass bent over the kitchen table like a full meal on display that he couldn’t wait a moment longer to devour. He reaches out and kneads your ass cheek, his fingers digging into the flesh just enough to make you squirm before he releases you to free his cock. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor was the only warning you received before he kicked your feet apart and sunk himself into you.
“Fuck.”
He bottomed out, his hands gripping your hips and holding you flush against his pelvis as he readjusted his stance.
You let out a whine more akin to a moan at the torture of him remaining painfully still while buried balls deep inside you. “Move.” You begged, your hands curling into fists against the table on each side of your head. You knew he was intentionally drawing this out, punishing you for sending him that damn selfie.
Your plea was met with a sharp slap to your ass and you tensed before the cool metal of his left palm soothed the sting. “Buc-“ You begin to plead again but your words are lost in a gasp as he draws his hips back withdrawing almost completely before thrusting forward deep enough to kiss your cervix.
“Use your words.” He demanded in a low voice, stilling once again.
“God damnit.” You hissed, sucking in a deep breath. “Move. Please.”
A chuckle rose up from his throat and you knew that if you’d be facing him you could see his beautiful mouth twisted into a smug smirk.
“Was that so hard?” He crooned, snapping his hips forward and drawing a moan from you in response.
You shook your head, unable to respond as he slammed into you relentlessly, the legs of the table scraping against the floor from the force of his thrusts, the dishes sliding off and shattering as they hit the floor.
Your breath catches in your chest as heat blooms deep in your abdomen at the sensation of his thick cock dragging along your walls.
Bucky’s hand slides up your back gathering your hair in his fist, pulling it hard and forcing your back to arch as he yanks you up towards him so he can see the look on your face as he fucks you. Your eyes connect with his over your shoulder and the sight of his pupils blown, his brows knitted together and his mouth agape as he relishes in the feeling of your pussy milking his cock does you in. You choke out a cry and tremble beneath him, white hot pleasure crawling up your spine as you fall apart. He fucks you through it with his eyes half lidded and jaw clenching while he watches you crumble, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk.
“Fuck, baby.. I love you so much.” You whimper out in a breathless daze.
He inhales sharply and releases his grip on your hair. Your head nearly drops to the table before he catches your jaw firmly in his hand, his eyes wild and intense. “Goddamn, say it again.” He growls through gritted teeth, rutting into you at a renewed pace.
You groan in satisfaction as his hand tightens on your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together. Your voice comes out broken and hoarse as you whimper repeatedly, “I fucking love you. I love you. God I-“ Your words fall short as you cry out, your pussy clenching and fluttering around him as another orgasm rips through you. His grip slackens and he slides his hand to your cheek, his thumb caressing your flushed skin.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” He mumbles. “So fucking beautiful when you come all over my cock.”
Bucky’s words of praise send a shiver up your spine but disappointment washes over you when without warning he’s pulling out and leaving your pussy aching and empty. You look back at him with furrowed brows and a pout, confusion written across your face. He chuckles softly and leans forward to press a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t give me that, doll.” He murmurs against your hair, his arms coming around you to move you onto your back. “You were twistin’ that pretty little neck of yours to keep your eyes on me.” He gives a gentle squeeze to your throat for emphasis as his breath fans across your cheek. Your eyelids slip shut as his hand leaves your neck and he places his large hands on your inner thighs, spreading you open again. The weeping tip of his cock presses against your thoroughly fucked hole and he bites back a moan as he watches himself disappear into your cunt inch by inch.
“Look at me.” He demands, picking up rhythm. He dips down to press his forehead to yours, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as you flick your eyes up to meet his gaze. “I’m not pullin’ out.” He growls, nipping at your bottom lip. “Eyes on me, doll. I’ll be damned if you don’t watch when I fill you.”
You groan in response and meet his mouth with your own, kissing him deeply and carding your hands in his hair. He chuckles softly into the kiss and breaks it momentarily to slide his hands under your shirt and cup your breasts. “Oh?” He let out a low chuckle. “You want that, baby?” He asked, brushing his thumb roughly across your nipple. “You want me to fuck you full of my cum?”
“Yes, please. Fuck.” You whimpered, using your grip on his hair to pull him back to you. Your mouth parts on contact, your tongue slipping past his lips to taste his in a sloppy and desperate kiss that only spurred him to drive into you even harder. Every violent thrust drew a moan deep from your throat that he swallowed as his tongue fought yours for dominance. You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged, eliciting a growl from him in response and he broke the kiss, rearing back and looking down at you with primal need. He reached to wrap his hand around your throat again, pulling you up to crash his mouth against yours, groaning into it as his movements begin to stutter and lose rhythm.
“Fuck. Baby, I’m gonna come.” He breathed out in between kisses. Your hands curled around his shoulders fingers into the flesh and leaving bloody crescent moons as you whimpered in response. “Please!” You cry out, tipping your head back against the table. Bucky grunts and leans down, your extended neck a welcome invitation that he takes, biting, kissing and sucking along the tender flesh. “Eyes on me.” He says firmly, slipping his hand from your neck to your jaw and forcing your head back down.
“Fuck!” He shouts with a final thrust, his hands flying to your hips and bringing you flush to him as his head tips back and your name falls from his lips among a string of curses. He tenses and stills, his cock twitching inside you as he pumps you full of his hot, sticky essence.
“Jesus..” He mumbles, reaching to lazily palm your breast before cupping your cheek in his hand and looking down at you with affection while he remains seated inside you.
You laugh softly, bringing your hand up to rest over his and hold it to your face. “Damn.” You whisper, a smirk spreading across your face. “Remind me to start sending you pictures more often.”
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