#<- both not really oh welp
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Something something sailor having no fish back home (there’s fish in the water it’s just hard to tell, sorry)
When i posted this i said I don’t like it but I think I was just feeling down, this isn’t that bad haha (I think the fish didn’t turn out how I wanted them which was irritating me)
Also won’t be doing Linktober prompts any time soon bc I feel so so bad for all the spam posting (might finish them next month ^.^)
#art#sailor#wolf#bunny#links meet au#<- imagine#legend of zelda#drawing#link#zelda fanart#digital art#fanart#zelda#link fanart#my art#wind waker link#the wind waker#ww link#loz ww#loz#the legend of zelda#water#loz comic#Zelda comic#<- both not really oh welp#tp link#alttp link#la link#link twilight princess#link design
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You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)
#moe talks a lot#i was shaking earlier and despite the fact i sound like im gonna cry#and the fact that my mom can pick out im about to cry from pain bc im trying to take less pain meds#LIKE MY MOM IS INSTRUCTING ME TO DO#shes like well why arent you taking any pain meds#BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO AVAILABLE OPTIONS AND ON A SIX HOUR TIMER#i cant take both at once or else what happens to me if i hurt before the six hours is up#i have to manage them in a way that allows me to benefit from both and being told im doing it wrong#after being told well its your fault it got so bad because you never complained about pain before#YEAH NO JOKE? REALLY? I NEVER DID? because everyone acts like im too young to feel that kinda pain#oh youre hurting? just wait until youre older#and its currently agony to breathe again but that i guess is also my fault bc im trying to use pain meds#holy moly i just want to not get dizzy standing up cause wow dang#sure would be nice if the multiple incisions in my stomach didnt THROB every time i sneezed or coughed or cleared my throat#but since i didnt use much pain meds before because i would be mocked for being too much of a baby its like#welp damn now i could really use some and im being called out for being too reliant#anyway time to sleep more because that means im not noticing my pain#im literally smaller than most children and so i do understand my body size makes people worried about the medication intake#but can i please just go a day without being asked how much im taking or when i last took it or if im gonna cry#anyway sorry for the excessive rant today never really had surgery or anything so this is brand spankin new suffering
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Mystery twins Headcannons
Mabel pines
Bisexual (obviously)
Realized at a young age (like 13-14) she liked girls and was very open and confident in it
Falls in love easily (sapphic girly fr)
Dated a lot throughout middle and high school and would immediately claim they they were the one (the longest one was two months lol)
Loves going to parties and always goes all out in the outfits (Goes to every and all pride events she can)
ADHD and autistic (all the pines are autistic but ya’know)
ADHD causes her to hyperfixate on her arts and crafts projects and can cause her to pull all nighters and forget to eat or drink
Has trouble focusing on things that don’t directly retain her interest (as seen in the show lol)
Very talkative
Stimming types
Arm/hands flapping
Pacing/running in circles/Spinning/ rolling around on the ground
Hair chewing
Vocal stims
Frequently changes her aesthetic all thought high school like every week
Makes her own clothes
Impulsively changes her hair (shaved it half off once because she saw some on TikTok with a half half shaved off with it dyed and thought it looked cool)
FaceTimes Grenada and Candi back in GF every night
After graduation she gets accepted into art school in Oregon
Travels down to gravity falls on holiday breaks and most weekends
Sells clothes online for extra cash (college is expensive lol)
Dipper pines
Trans masc
New he was a boy from a very young age but socially transitioned right before leaving for Gravity falls (like on the bus there lol)
Thinks Grunckle Stan doesn’t know but he was there when Dipper and Mabel where born (cannon I think) so he knows but is waiting for dipper to tell him before he brings it up
Has only officially came out to Mabel (as off the start of the summer;comes out to Stan at the end of summer before leaving where Stan reveals that he always known lol )
Autistic (duh)
His autism presents through lack of proper social skills, special interests, and stimming
Stimming types
Chewing (rip his pens lol)
Pacing
Repeating words/phrases
Special interests
Mysteries/Conspiracies
Cryptids/monster
Wears pretty much the same outfit every day lol (flannels too bro thinks he’s Alex hirsh)
Is into the unexplainable for the same reason as ford
He feels like an outcast so we relates a lot to Cryptids because who’s more of an outcast then the moth man
Develops a proper friend group (like two to three other people ) in high school they’re also nerds lol
Started dating Pacifica northwest one summer but his friends don’t believe him
“Like yeah dude you’re dating Pacifica Northwest the richest girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere yeah and you also got chased by an army of gnomes that was trying to marry your sister, sure dude.”
One day she shows up and everyone is shocked lol
Runs a ghost hunting YouTube channel and all his videos are real but everyone thinks it’s fake cause it’s to much evidence
After graduation he moved down the gravity falls full time and takes Ford’s apprenticeship
Take night college classes in film for that ghost hunting show he mentions in that one episode
#jd rants#gravity falls#dipper pines#Mabel pines#also they both travel to gravity falls every summer throughout school#but that’s obvious#lowkey I forgot this was in my drafts lol#welp here it is#also I could make a whole other post about dipper’s#innate need to prove himself and his experiences and therefore his worth to other people and how it stems from an inferiority complex#and feeling inadequate lol#and how the ghost hunting show plays into that#where as Mabel is able to just let stuff go for example if mable saw a ghost and told someone and they didn’t believe her she’d probably#be chill and move on they’re loss ya’know#but oh no not dipper he’d have to prove the ghost exists#and he really does have a pretty rich girlfriend she just goes to a different school#but that’s another post I’ll probably never post
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Lightning, water, and fire! Like forever before the plot starts. By the time the plot starts, the lightning and fire deities have been subjected to punishment by the two gods that picked them.
Oh (the fire deity) is first to be punished. They basically decide that since they're going to live for a long time, gotta set some long time goals! And they opt to be the wrath of the gods since most of the other deities are too 'soft' in their opinion. So Oh just. Smites humans. This isn't really a /good/ thing and in their defense mentally, they do it to help Ymber since he's the softest of them all. So their punishment by the gods is to be split in two, effectively halving the power of one into two. (Now they are in a male and a female body and use both male and female pronouns apart since they together make they but apart it feels weird to be they. But prior to the split they use they/them. Also the split bodies go by the names Ohiwe and Ohime.)
Fulj is the second to be punished. She falls in love with a mortal woman and that is a crime according to the gods. Mortals and immortals are not to be together and it will only bring suffering to both sides. So her punishment is her memories of the woman are stripped and her body basically broken to the point she can't remain physical all the time.
Ymber, unfortunately, is the one who blames himself for the discoveries and punishments. If he had only tried to restrain Oh more then maybe they would have chilled out and stopped before being punished. If he had only tried to persuade Fulj to not continue seeing the mortal woman so often perhaps she wouldn't have been punished. So he's just increasing the guilt on his shoulders every day that he remains unpunished since the elder gods have both laid down to rest. They can't enforce their laws anymore and none of the deities are keen on harming one another at this point. They just want to continue existing in peace.
#the daily life of a deity sucks#and then ymber falls in love with a human and is like welp this sucks and i understand fulj now#i also would have accepted the punishment for this#and fulj doesnt even remember the woman she was punished for and doesnt remember how she was before#so she is like hey ymber please just go and kiss the weird human i dont even like him but youre being mean by not kissing him#and ymber is just having the worst time of his life being encouraged by someone who used to be so happy#who he also encouraged to be happy once upon a time#also ohiwe and ohime pop up in the water city to bully ymber sometimes but its still in the way of#dude we like you please grow a spine its been a thousand years please grow a backbone and tell us to piss off#and he never tells them to piss off#also fulj has a long braid here but you cant really see it#and she loves to braid ymbers hair and he gets to braid hers when shes giggling and chatting about love#and a short while after the punishment fulj chops the braid off and ymber is like welp my friend is officially gone#and then he cuts his own hair and leaves to go develop his city alone in seclusion#and he sometimes just cuts it really short because hes still sad and soggy and thinks of fulj braiding his hair#and then she shows up one day when hes debating how long its getting and she smiles#and tells him he looks good with longer hair#so he kinda keeps it a messy short then it gets to be medium and he decides he can survive with medium but he couldnt do long again#but once again fulj is the reason for his life choices (and guilt)#also before anyone asks yes all the deities have a collar#its very important actually that they are collared its lore information thanks#and for what it matters - after oh is split both forms are just as tall#theres just two of them at half power but they are both tall
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(Eheh- personal type of funny number.
Silliness aside, just wanted to say that I haven't gotten to the inbox quite yet since I had prepared a couple doodles in advance to keep up the posting as I started out. I'll get to both asks and requests as soon as I can-!)
#Not a daily#Oh also of course thank you for follows! Glad I'm not the only one that wanted to see more of this menace ahah#I am really looking forward to asks- in my previous experiences they've always been either hella fun or interesting to draw/answer#I am still both worried and curious about what I'll find in my inbox as I keep this thing going tho-#oh welp-
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Did they learn their profession from the guildship, on their own, from a friend/family member? for Yulan!
Mix of these! He learned some basic skills in foraging, weaponmaking and mending back in his home village - including his still horrible cooking. Most of it was basic life skills stuff, like finding food and firewood on the mountainside, fixing broken gear or making arrows for his bow, but it eventually got him interested in whatever their village smith was doing. Not that she ever got to teach him much, as Yulan was soon taken as a woodwarder apparentice and had to leave the village.
When he later left the mountain and travelled Othard, he ended up staying in the bigger cities for few years, learning what he could from their craftsmen before moving on to next city. It was only after he made the trip to Eorzea that he finally got a formal, more long term apparenticeship under the Ul'dah goldsmith guild.
That's where he's been the past 25-ish years - offically he's still their employee, even if he has his own workshop nowadays and mostly chooses what jobs he wants to take. After running out of mentors to teach him within the guild, he took to studying any and all goldsmithing related records and books, eventually starting his own research into intricacies of mammet making.
So short form would be family/friend > guilds > more guilds but this time permanent position > his own research and experiments.
#oh right idk if i ever really mentioned it#but yulan's uh... not that young#like he's at least 50. possibly more#and he left before he even finished learning the woodwarder stuff properly#so he's been going around learning stuff for YEARS#he acts like a spoiled baby tho haha#i really wanted to fully lean on the “viera don't really age normally” stuff#also didn't want to mention any specific places without proper research#but quick look says that timeline kinda lines up and he could've taken time to learn stuff in both rabanastre as well as doma#before either got taken over#then move into kugane before garleans came#and eventually left for eorzea after he saw garleans wrecking havoc over his home regions#his home village got destroyed somewhere around the takeover so he just basically went “welp not like there's anything holding me here now”#and left#oh btw his cooking is like. comically bad#he can do other crafting fine (with focus on goldsmithing and mammets)#but just can't learn to cook at all#answered ask#little magnolia
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I don't think Y'akk understand how damn funny a DC Isekai would be.
Character (will henceforth be labeled Alex for ease of typing) just... gets hit by a bus or goes through a portal and ends up in DC. Said person quickly triangulates their location and has a few decisions to make. Should they approach Superman, Batman, Green Arrow, or Flash. They have consistent locations, and will likely have varying reactions.
Clark
Walk up to him at the DP and he will shit his pants if you call him Superman. Go all geeky on Alex, but if they keep insisting he takes them into a closet and asks how the fck they know who he is. An hour later said person is being served a cup of cocoa in his apartment while they try and figure out which damn DC timeline they're in
Oliver
Honestly I have no idea how this one would go because if it's CW!Arrow you are so dead but if it's like YJ!Green Arrow or JLU!Green Arrow you're fine and probably ending up in the hall of justice.
Barry/Wally
CW!Barry would just brush it off like another tuesday and try and get you back in your timeline. JLU!Wally would bring you to the watchtower and (because that design is so recognisable) be chastised by that Batman, but then Alex would end up a support staff/trusted advisor (Batsy has the biggest soft spot for JLU!Flash change my mind)
Bruce
If they walk up to the Manor and manage to make it past Alfred, it would probably end up like Tim or just a Support person, but depending on the timeline they would be dead. Like Arkham bats would do something crazy like lock them up in the Batcave or something extreme because they're a threat to the safety of Gotham, while Young Justice batman would be like 'damn another kid, oh no robin is giving me the eyes, sht I can't say no' while 2004 The Batman would set said person up in a safer city. All of them would ask for a timeline of sorts.
(I'm not familiar with the DCAMU enough to speak about it here.)
#could you imagine#i want to be that person#i want to be in DC#DC over marvel TBH#just move to gotham#enemy scaling is real#like I would stay as far away from Metropolis as humanely possible#and as close to a zeta/bat exit as I could#and DC is just less#oh my god this is the sixteenth invasion this week damint#and more#welp looks like i have the week off school since Joker blew up my lecture hall and injured my professor#and I mean come ON#i think DC has deeper characters IMO#animated wise#I love both don't get me wrong#but damn DC really do be making Tim Drake#marvel has deep characters too don't get me wrong#but DC has a lot of well developed characters with tailored landscapes and deep trauma that I relate to more#i feel like i'm explain both of them#look i love both so much and ping pong between the two#but DC is deeper yknow#especially the Bats
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But I Love Him | Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: Oscar Piastri’s girlfriend is Danny Ric’s biggest fan. When Oscar announces he’s signing for McLaren, she’s not sure how to react.
Warnings: Fluff. Crack fic
Only a small one. Inspired by Nicole Piastri’s hilarious podcast appearance. Did I push back my scheduled posts in favour of this sudden smau? Yes
20233-2023 season
F1 Masterlist
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2021
mclaren just posted
liked by yn_ln, landonorris and others
mclaren what a race 🏆 an amazing drive from our honey badger
10,333 comments
landonorris great race, mate
yn_ln that’s my driver!
→ oscarpiastri love you too
→ yn_ln shush, daniel might see this and then think we’re dating
→ oscarpiastri we are dating
→ yn_ln you’re ruining my chances
markwebber skills
→ yn_ln lovely, wonderful, talented mark. fancy spoiling a girl and getting her danny ric merch?
→ oscarpiastri you don’t talk like that to me
→ yn_ln because i have to deal with you leaving your wet towels on the bed
→ yn_ln plus all your merch is alpine
→ user1 she's so real for that tho
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2022
yn_ln welp, there go my chances of meeting danny ric if you’re not going to be an f1 driver
→ danielricciardo i’m sure we’ll both be in aus at the same time in the future ;)
→ yn_ln omg he talked to me. oscar, he talked to me!
→ oscarpiastri yup, i can see that
→ yn_ln why don’t you care?!
logansargeant that’s one way to break the news
→ yn_ln he’s so dramatic isn’t he
→ user2 why is oscar still with her? she’s so mean to him
→ user3 it's called banter. try it some time, babe
aussiegrit never a dull day with you
→ yn_ln at least you get to hear about this beforehand. the alpine announcement shook me
→ oscarpiastri um, it shook me too?
→ yn_ln do you need me to stroke your hair again?
→ aussiegrit @/yn_ln you're no better
nicolepiastri your girlfriend is distraught that you didn’t consult her before being a drama queen. i raised you better than this
→ yn_ln 🤍🤍
→ oscarpiastri beaten for #1 child by my own girlfriend
oscarpiastri just posted
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oscarpiastri it’s official
6,981 comments
yn_ln but i love daniel…
→ oscarpiastri i know. everyone does
→ yn_ln but i love him the most
→ oscarpiastri i know
→ user4 bit weird that you’re not congratulating him
fernandoalo_official amazing news. can’t wait to see you on track
user5 mclaren are so messy for using an alpine pic
user6 okay but hello mr piastri. i was not familiar with your game
→ user7 yn saw the vision when she fell for him years ago
→ yn_ln c’mon guys, he was cute before
→ oscarpiastri i’m still cute now!
→ yn_ln no, now you’re hot
→ oscarpiastri oh 🤭
→ landonorris fuck me, is this what i have to deal with now?
→ logansargeant yes
→ arthur_leclerc yes
→ frederikvestiofficial yes
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2023
yn_ln just posted
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yn_ln hubby’s first f1 race weekend (but more importantly, i met THE daniel ricciardo. and he was wearing his best colours)
3,813 comments
oscarpiastri i thought this was going to be a really sweet post and then
→ landonorris i actually watched his smile fall
→ yn_ln he’s in love with you now. it’s your responsibility to brush his hair and promise him he’s special
→ oscarpiastri between you and my mother, i don’t think i’ll ever have a comfortable day on the internet
danielricciardo i took really nice photos with you, and you post this one?
→ yn_ln please don’t be mad at me. i cry easily
oscarpiastri it’s bad enough that the world knows daniel is your favourite driver. can you at least pretend mclaren is your favourite team?
→ yn_ln go papaya!
→ yn_ln love you, pookie
→ oscarpiastri love you too, sweetheart
→ user8 the fact that no matter how hard she bullies him, he can never NOT say i love you back
aussiegrit proud of our boy
→ yn_ln me too!
→ oscarpiastri say it to my face, you coward
→ user9 how is oscar so sweet and introverted in interviews but then we see him like this on his girlfriend’s insta
→ oscarpiastri she brings out the demon in me
danielricciardo just posted
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danielricciardo stole my seat so i stole your girl tagged: oscarpiastri, yn_ln
4,303 comments
arthur_leclerc i bet he’s crying in his driver’s room
logansargeant i joked about stealing her once and he hit me with a wrench
frederikvestiofficial i made her laugh once and he bit me
landonorris @/mclaren are you seeing this? i think i want a new teammate
user10 pr are screaming
→ user11 they do anytime yn comments on things
oscarpiastri keep her
→ yn_ln oi!
→ yn_ln i mean… he did give you permission
→ logansargeant where was this treatment for us?
→ oscarpiastri i’m fed up of her now. i still had hope back then
maxverstappen1 i thought we were forever
→ yn_ln you can’t beat my devotion to him
→ maxverstappen1 no but i can beat your devotion to your boyfriend
→ yn_ln eh
oscarpiastri just posted
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oscarpiastri she loves me really
4,811 comments
yn_ln my whole 💕
→ oscarpiastri i love you lots
→ yn_ln you know you’re my favourite guy forever
landonorris can confirm that they are disgustingly in love around the paddock
→ yn_ln you’re just jealous because you keep trying to steal him
danielricciardo i was stood next to them once and she didn’t even glance at me because oscar was making her laugh
→ nicolepiastri he’s not even funny
→ yn_ln don’t say these things. you’ll ruin my reputation as danny ric stan #1
user12 he’s not beating the orange cat allegations
→ user13 not with all the comments over the years of her stroking his hair to make him feel better
logansargeant bro relax. no one’s going to take her from you
→ oscarpiastri daniel’s rejoined red bull. her favourite driver is back with her favourite team. i have to stake my claim
→ yn_ln when he gets possessive 😍
→ arthur_leclerc 🤮🤮
frederikvestiofficial i thought not being in f1 meant i could escape this. get it off my fyp
#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri headcanon#oscar piastri drabble#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri x reader
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ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY? | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. after you and tom called it quits, the internet can’t help but make you their punching bag, all because you liked a boy.
part 2 | installment of this au | recommend you read it for more context!
CELEBRITYNEWS Months after the pair announced they were dating on Instagram, couple Y/N Avocot and Tom Blyth have now since broken up due to personal reasons and “mutual agreement” according to a source. We will miss the sweet ex-couple, and we wish the best for Y/N and Tom!
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user1 guys im going to cry
user2 this wasn’t in my 2023 plans.
user3 actual tears
user4 ik rachel is heartbroken rn bc they’re both her close friends and she introduced them to one another 😭😭
➥ user5 you’re so right OMG
user6 they were so good together?? im upset
user7 he’s single now….. YES
ynuser me time 🌞 (new skincare video up soon yayy!!)
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user8 guys, it’s official. she unfollowed tom
➥ user9 it’s the way he still follows her and likes all her posts like this is too sad to watch ☹️
user10 girly after unfollowing tom and everything even tho he still follows and likes her post
user11 she doesn’t deserve him lol. not then, not now, not ever
sean.kauf ur time
conangray yess i love you yn
➥ ynuser @/conangray @/sean.kauf i love you two 💘
rachelzegler only girls party
➥ user12 oh?
hollywoodnews Oh? is this a new romance brewing? Actress and music artist, YN Avocot and her fellow actor and cast mate Sean Kaufman seen awfully comfortable in multiple restaurants not long after YN’s breakup with her ex-boyfriend, actor Tom Blyth
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user13 cant defend yn anymore
➥ user14 she never asked u to defend her stop being delulu..
user15 welp called it, she’s a hoe
user16 doesn’t sean have a gf? not her homewrecking…
user17 acting like all that after she’s single please someone humble her immediately
user18 guys stop sending hate to yn, it’s literally not gonna help anyone. she’s single, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants without you guys being down her back 24/7.
liked by @/tomblyth
➥ user19 hello tom blyth literally liked ur comment??
user20 not tom still being nice to her even after all this. Personally me? Id never take that level of disrespect
ynuser “all because i liked a boy” OUT NOW! This song was originally something else that I put off for a really long time until now, it’s all from my experiences so it makes it very personal for me. I hope you guys like it as much as I do! As always, be kind to yourself and one another ❤️
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sean.kauf love this, love YOU!
➥ ynuser ❤️❤️
conangray this is a masterpiece
user21 THE REFERENCES TO THE HATE COMMENTS OMG ☹️☹️ this song is so good she doesn’t deserve all the hate she gets
user22 and all of this for what? WHEN EVERYTHIN’ WENT DOWN WE’D ALREADY BROKEN UP
➥ user23 TELL ME WHO I AM GUESS I DONT HAVE A CHOICE
➥ user24 ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOYYYYY
user25 the way tom hasn’t said anything..
#coriolanus snow x you#Coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth#tbosbas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games x reader
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Can you pretty please write a fic where Logan and Deadpool are having an argument about how they should be fucking the reader, like going over techniques while the reader is just drooling and mindless like “whaaa”
hell YEAH i love getting fucked stupid by big strong men >:3333€
this is a rly good prompt btw so i could GLADLY expand on this but for rn here’s a snippet 😌
warning: dp, painal, sadomasochism, mild transphobia, slurs, degradation, overstim, dubcon, daddy kink
anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/bussy
They talk about you like you’re not even there.
Well, physically you were right there with them. Mentally you were nowhere to be found, certainly not on their conversational level. Wade had been bouncing you in his lap for god knows how long. His cock in your cunt had thoroughly fucked your train of thought off the tracks. Your internal monologue was nothing but bitchy whimpers and primal burning for more. Welp. What do you expect? Back to back orgasms will do to that to you. You couldn’t even recall how the argument started, and context would’ve really been helpful.
“Wow! Okay! That’s a shitty thing to say to our guest! Wanna apologize and maybe try that one again, JK Rowling?”
"Oh, get fucked. That's not what I meant and you know it." Logan kept his firm hands on your shoulders, assisting your bounce, since your legs were damn near liquified.
“Mmmmm, ah, gah-fuuuck… Wh... Wha? Huh?”
“How is that not what you meant?" Wade, questioned, maintaining his steel grip on your ass. He felt that he had to protect you from the big bad wolf and his transphobia. "You just said he’s not a real man because he has a pussy. A tight, sweet, JUICY pussy that feels like a fleshlight full of microwaved angel dust. And yet SOMEHOW this makes him not a real man to you? Maybe you’re just not man enough for HIM, sugar-tits!”
"I said you gotta fuck him like a real man. You’re being too good to him. It's gonna fuel his ego, and I’m not letting you turn him into a spoiled brat. Fuck him in the ass, that'll teach him a lesson. Show him this shit ain't a joke."
"No way! Ass is ass is ass is ass. Everybody's got an asshole, peanut, and newsflash? They all feel the same. But this boy's pussy? This hot buttery premium A5 wagyu bussy that's—SQUEEZINGmyfuckingdicksotight, oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, angel baby, sweet boy, you feel so GOOD! Making your Daddy feel so good, good boy!"
Praise was easy enough to process. It didn't require any cognitive effort on your part. You didn't have to weigh in and have an opinion, you just have to take it, and be grateful for it. "Hah, fuck! Thank—thank you, Daddy! FUCK! Wade! WadeWadeWadeWade—WADE! WadeWadeWade..."
But Logan wouldn't let it go. "I'm serious. Make him take it up the ass, or I will."
“Un-be-lievable. You know something? You must be the one guy in this universe who could see a whimsical forest path that leads to a magical unicorn fountain, and says 'Oh, no, none for me. Let me go spelunking in the poop-chute, thank you very much!' And if that's not the single gayest thing I've seen in my entire—"
"WADE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
"Eeep!"
Oh, you poor thing. He nearly gave you a heart attack! It's terrifying when someone yells out of nowhere, especially when that someone has you naked and vulnerable in their hands. Logan had slammed you down on Wade's cock when he yelled, completely stopping the scene and trapping you between them. Woah. Time out. Shit has officially just gotten real. You and Wade held bated breath, and traded a glance that said "We're cooked. Nice knowing ya."
But Logan just laughed at you both. Delighted by the atmospheric tension he had just created.
"Heh... heh heh heh..."
Then he relaxed his grip on you, and those big strong calloused man hands started to explore. They massaged your shoulders, rubbed your neck and jaw, and groped and squeezed wherever they pleased. All the while, his hot breath, tinted with whiskey and malice, ghosted over the shell of your ear as he talked. He spoke very firmly. Targeted. Slow. He wanted you to get every fucking word.
"Listen, bub. I’m not about to question whether or not you’re a man, okay? But I’ll say this. When real men wanna take cock? It hurts. Oh, it hurts real bad. And most of ‘em don’t get the luxury of a cushy little cunt that’s meant to take a pounding. No, son. Real men get ripped apart by cock. It makes them cry and scream and sometimes their tiny little rims even bleed because of it. And you know what? They love it. They love how much it hurts them. Cause they’re men. Strong men. And you’re no fuckin’ better than them, you know that? You think just cause you got another hole that you can take the easy way out? Everything's gonna be peaches and cream, huh? Nuh uh. Not on my watch, you little shit. You wanna act like you're such a fag? Well then you’re getting fucked like one of us too."
…
…
…
“Jesus fucking Christ, babycakes, if you don’t want him up your ass I’ll GLADLY take the heat for you.”
#anon#ask#deadpool#deadpool x trans reader#deadpool x you#deadpool x reader#deadpool smut#deadpool x ftm reader#deadpool x reader x wolverine#wolverine x trans reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#wolverine#wade wilson x trans reader#wade wilson x you#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson smut#wade wilson#wade wilson x ftm reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x trans reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x ftm reader
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A Malfoy And A Potter
masterlist
pairing: draco malfoy x female potter reader
warnings: fluff, kissing
summary: you and draco have been dating in secret but the secret comes out when you two attend the yule ball together
a/n: i am so sorry i have not posted in forever, i've just been busy with school and work, and trying to catch up on my reading goal for the year! it's almost summer break so i should be posting more again :)
song: sleigh ride - the ronettes
You were currently pushed up against the wall by your boyfriend, Draco Malfoy.
His lips roam the smooth skin of your jaw and throat. Peppering you with loving kisses while you play with his hair.
Both of you are breathing heavy and he brings his lips back up to your mouth as he kisses you. You let out a satisfied hum and put your hands on his chest.
You gently push him back a bit and he looks at you. "What's wrong, love?"
"Someone is going to see us," you whisper.
"Hm, well that sucks for them," he grins and kisses you again.
You push him and laugh, "I guess you're right," you smile.
"They're going to see us when we go to the ball tomorrow night, you do know that, don't you?"
"Well of course, I know that!"
Draco pulls you into his chest and rests his head on yours, "If Potter has a problem with you and me tomorrow, I'll be more than happy to practice some hexes on him," he glides his hand along your waist.
"There will be no practicing hexes, Draco," you pick up his hand and kiss it before walking out of his embrace.
"Boring!"
"Oh, don't be such a baby," you squeeze his cheeks. "Anyway, I'll be off to dinner now, you should come too," you start walking to the great hall and he follows you like a lost puppy.
You go in and sit with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "Hello," you smile at them.
"Hi, Y/n," Hermione smiles.
"Hey, mate," Ron says.
"Greetings," Harry salutes you. You grin and salute him back.
"So, do you all have your dates?" You ask them. You already knew about Hermione's date, of course, you two are like sisters.
"Er- not exactly," Harry replies scratching the back of his neck.
"Same here," Ron sighs and drops his head onto the table. You cover your mouth to stop your laugh when he groans in pain.
"Welp, you two got under a day left," you clasp your hands.
"What about you?" Ron asks, "I've been wondering if you finally picked someone out of the two hundred people who asked you," he says with amusement.
"Oh don't be silly, Ron, it was not two hundred people!"
"Sorry- two hundred and seven," he corrects.
You roll your eyes, but it was true. You four have literally been tallying how many people have asked you, boys and girls. "Well, yes, I have a date."
"Really? Who?" Hermione asks.
"I suppose you'll have to see tomorrow," you exclaim with a smile.
You were in your room getting ready for the ball, slightly panicking. Hermione was already dressed and now helping you. "Y/n, you don't need to be nervous," she says as she helps with your hair.
"I know but-"
"No buts. You are perfect and you dance amazingly! Your date is very lucky," she smiles.
You relax a bit and look at her through the mirror, "Hermione, have I mentioned how much I love you?"
"Yes, yes you have," she takes her wand to finish your hair. You already did your makeup with some of her assistance. She claps her hands in excitement, "I believe it's time for the dress!"
You pick up the beautiful dark green gown. You had bought Draco a matching tie when you picked the dress out.
You put the dress on and flatten out some wrinkles.
"You look stunning!" Hermione squeals.
"You mean that?"
"Of course! Now, let's head to the ball!" Hermione links her arm with yours. You two make your way to the entrance when you start to panic again. For someone as well known and popular as you, you get social anxiety often.
"You go in first, I'm scared," you bite your lip nervously.
She sighs but nods. She gives you a quick smile with a thumbs up before she heads down the stairs and goes to her date, Viktor Krum. You peak through the curtain to watch. Ron's jaw drops when he looks at her and her date. He looks angry and you could almost laugh.
After pacing for two minutes you decided to just go down. You pull the curtain and try to sneak in without being noticed. Unfortunately, things don't always go the way you want.
There were an absurd amount of gasps as you made your way down the stairs, praying to Merlin that you didn't trip in your heels. The gaping gazes of the people there making you even more nervous.
You see Draco talking with his best friend, Blaise Zabini. Draco listens to his friend talk as he waits for you to arrive. He notices his friends eyes widened as his mouth opens a bit.
He furrows his brows and looks to see everyone staring at something. He looks and his eyes land on you. He feels all the air sucked out of him. He admires you and then snaps out of his trance and makes his way over you, who was smiling at him.
He holds out his hand and you place yours in his. He leans down to your ear and whispers, "I hope you know how ethereal you look, sweetheart," he pulls back and you blush. Another round of gasps fill the room and you hear a, "WHAT?!" You look over and see Harry rushing over to you two, "I- what in Merlin's name are you doing with Malfoy?!"
"Um, he's my date," you say.
Harry's jaw drops as his head goes back between the two of you. You laugh and shake your head.
Draco pulls on your hand, "I would appreciate a dance with my girlfriend while you continue gaping," he places his hand on your lower back and walks you to where people started to dance.
"GIRLFRIEND??!!"
#nina writes 🤭💗#draco fluff#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy oneshot#draco malfoy#harry potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#slytherin#soft draco malfoy#love struck#draco x you#draco x reader#hogwarts#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry
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mr and mrs ‘let me do it’
A/n; I haven’t wrote for marvel in so long… anyhow, headcanons because I can and I want to
warning(s): both miles are stubborn in their own ways, mrs independent woman reader, slithers of mama Rio, a little bickering, mentions of social norms, pet names, rusty spanish, and language l
earth 1610 miles! who’s love language is acts of service, —as well as physical touch�� in which it literally makes him go insane when you don’t let him do something for you. drastic or mundane you volunteer yourself everytime and he hates it
earth 1610 miles! who has to learn to somewhat bully his way into doing things for you… you guys sitting together during lunch and you forgot to get utensils? before you can even swing your leg over the bench of the cafeteria table he’s already up walking back to the cart that carries condiments, napkins, plastic packaged utensils and things of the sort
earth 1610 miles! where you both turn it into a little competition on who can help the other one more. you ask him to hold your phone so you can tie your shoe? that’s cute, meanwhile he fully gets down on one knee and ties them for you. Oh, his dorm is messy and he can’t find his notes he needed to finish over the weekend back home? meanwhile, your in your own room copying down what you you wrote from your notes filled with scribblings of words onto his semi empty notebook.
earth 1610 miles! who likes to do something to make your life a little easier no matter how big or small. your about to have a study session and you ran to the bathroom? guess who taking all the text books and notes out of your bag so you don’t have to rummage thought it? Well miles of course :)
earth 1610 miles! who loves you because you think about him and your actions really show it. he had to patrol and couldn’t watch the new episode of his favorite super hero, guess who recorded the who thing start to finish so he could watch it in his down time?
earth 1610 miles! who is in a healthy happy competition of completing services for one another with you because “Te amo aunque seas terco, mi vida.”
ミ★ミ★ミ★
earth 42 miles! who is quite literally wont take no for an answer. it got to a point where he would just start doing things for you instead of asking. you look like you’re carrying too many bags on your mini splurge at the mall? welp now you’re carrying NOTHING.
earth 42 miles! where you both grew up around the social norm of ‘the man should pay for dates with a woman’ and rather he knew it or not, miles subconsciously adapted it into his life. you on the other hand couldn’t call bull shit fast enough to save your life. however, while miles really did value your core beliefs he couldn’t really be bothered to break the habit. he wasn’t wealthy per say, but he had enough to simultaneously spoil you with things as well as help his mom with necessities.
earth 42 miles! who mutters a “watch out ma” when you even try and reach for your purse to pay for ANYTHING. total of $8.67 at the bodega trying to get snacks for your movie night? “I got it.” total of $78.92 after having appetizers, meals, and dessert? “I got it.” $250 to go get some self care done “I got it.”
earth 42 miles! that gets you so frustrated that you guys start to have petty arguments that mama Rio doesn’t stand for. yes you’re lovers, but she will still make you hug in the oversized, OVERSIZED, tshirt until you figure it out like you’re siblings.
earth 42 miles! who you have to learn just loves that way and if you want a change you have to force it yourself. the look he gave you when you came back from the “restroom” on your next weekly date having found out when he waived down your waiter that the meal was already paid for was priceless and so was the small twitch of his lips upward at the bright, proud look on your face.
©2024 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.
#miles morales#miles morales x you#miles morales x reader#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 1610#earth 42#miles morales 1610#miles morales 42#spiderverse x reader#atsv x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#flufftober#romance#fluff#fem!reader#spooktober#thewriterg#i love you
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“I Won’t Ever Be Scared Of You” - Alastor x Female Reader
❥Summary: Alastor transforms into his demon form to defend the hotel. He promised himself he would never reveal that side of himself to you, but what happens when you do see it?
❥Tags: Sequel, Alastor x Fem Reader, Unafraid Reader, Alastor Demon Form, Hazbin Hotel Episode 5, Dad Beat Dad Episode, Mimzy, Lucifer Morningstar, Confessions, Friends to Lovers.
❥Notes: This is the sequel to a previous story I had written "I See No Fear In Your Eyes." I really wanted to do a bit of a continuation on how the story ended, so I conjured this up. This also takes placed during episode 5 (Dad Beat Dad) of Hazbin Hotel. Hope you all like it. Enjoy:)
Sequel to this fanfic I wrote - Link
"LETS GO EVERYONE!!! WE GOTTA MAKE THIS PLACE PERFECT FOR WHEN MY DAD GETS HERE!!" Charlies voice rang out in the lobby, as everyone scattered about, preparing for when the king of hell arrived. Husk and Niffty started to sweep up while Sir Pentious helped to bake cookies for everyone and Lucifer. You decided to help string up some welcoming decorations around the higher part of the wall, as well as place a "Welcome" sign for the king to see when he arrived. You had never met Charlies dad before, sparking your curiosity on what he was like.
Your thoughts were cut off by loud static surrounding you, making you turn to see Alastor next to you, eyes monitoring the door with a strong hatred, demonic symbols floating above him. What's up with him? Finishing what you were doing, you walked closer to Al and gave him a bit of a poke on his side. His eyes quickly flashed towards you in anger, until he realized it was only you, which calmed him down. Ever since the confession you had at his radio tower about why you didn't fear him, your relationship with him had grown. His mannerisms were still the same, but he had adopted a softer, sweeter demeanor when he was around you, even allowing you to touch him on certain accusations. You still hadn't figured what to call this relationship you now had with Al. Affectionate friends or very close partners? It wasn't romantic per say, but it still left you a bit confused. "Oh, Hello my dear! Something troubling you?" Alastor tilted his head at you, eyes growing soft at the sight of you. "I should be asking you that. Whats with the sudden power surge? Are you angry about something?" Alastor froze for a moment, hands grasping at his microphone a bit tightly before turning to gaze back at the door. "No." Alastor said it quickly, but you can tell he wasn't being truthful. "Do you dislike Lucifer?" You asked him with a tilt of your head, copying him. Alastor remained silent before he gave a loud sigh. "I'm not very fond of him, my dear. He is the ruler of hell, with tremendous power, and yet he hides himself away and refuses to accept his responsibilities."
His eyes had turned into radio dials, for a split second before calming down, yet his smile was widen enough to reveal his black gums. Giving a sigh, you motioned to grab one of Alastor's hands that was still holding his microphone tightly, giving it a soft squeeze, causing Al to look at you with confusion. "Look, this is important to Charlie, and she needs to ask her dad for help with heaven. I'm not telling you to all of a sudden change your view on him, but please try to behave a bit. Just for today, please?" Alastor's eyes continued to stare at you, before he closed them and opened them again with softness. He could never refuse those kind eyes of yours. "Alright, my dear. Its a deal!" He said, jokingly, making you laugh. "Thanks Al." You gave his hand, another squeeze before letting it go, going back to setting up.
Fast forwarding to now, you watched as both Alastor and Lucifer were having a "I'm the better dad" song battle for Charlie. Welp, you tried. You knew Al had tried his best, but after a couple insults between the two, the deal you had with him completely broke, honestly it was shocking to hear Alastor say "F✪✪k you" since he has almost never swore ever, since he arrived at the hotel. The song fight continued on, until it was interrupted by a short chubby demon, who came badgering inside the hotel. She quickly introduced herself as Mimzy, one of Alastor close friends, and also being a singer at a club she ran. She started chatting with everyone at the hotel, indulging herself in the liquor that was at the bar, it was surprising how much she could drink. You noticed that some of the liquor supply was getting low, so you thought it would be best to get some more, since everything had calmed down a bit. You had pulled Charlie to the side, letting her know that you were going out for a bit to get some more alcohol for the bar, which she nodded at, giving you a thumbs up before she run back over to chat with her dad. Grabbing your wallet, you ventured out the hotel, looking back to see the others listening to Mimzy chatting about before you went outside and shut the door.
*Few Hours Later*
"MIMZY!! WE KNOW YOUR IN THERE, YOU LOUSY BIT✪✪!". A voice rang out as a loud bang was heard from the other side of the hotel doors, causing the hotel to shake. A group of loan sharks had arrived at the hotel, heavily armed with weapons and attempting to break down the hotel doors with a battering ram. The residents of the hotel began to panic as large fireballs were crashing through the windows, nearly hitting them and causing large shards of glass to scatter everywhere. Vaggie had quickly grabbed her spear, ready to fight the loan sharks, until a hand was place on her weapon, causing her to lower it. "No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am h̨̭̹̠̍̚e̷͑ͥr͉͢͝ȩ̬̤̺̇ͮ̕."
The air inside the hotel began to change, as the static started to get louder. Alastors eyes had turned demonic and a green aura began to cover the whole hotel. Dark tendrils had materialized from Alastors back, allowing him to levitate into the air. "A reminder to all, ŇØŦ ŦØ Μ€ŞŞ ŴƗŦĦ ŦĦ€ ŘΔĐƗØ Đ€ΜØŇ!" Belting out an evil cackle, the tendrils had bursted out of the hotel, destroying the catapult, and crushing the loan sharks into bloody puddles. Growing into a monstrous height, Alastor emerged out of the hotel doors, horns growing in size as well as his eyes turning into radio dials and multiple tentacles protruding from his back; "Ɨ ŴƗŁŁ Đ€VØỮŘ €ΔĆĦ ΔŇĐ €V€Ř¥ ØŇ€ Ø₣ ¥ØỮ!
*Alastor POV*
"Oh how much I have missed this!" Alastor thought to himself, as he massacred the loan sharks that were scattered outside the hotel, running for their lives to escape his deadly clutches. It was futile, as no one comes into the radio demons territory and gets away with it. Scanning his eyes for more prey, he held one of the poor souls in his hand before dropping him in his jaws. "Hmm not quite as tasty as venison, but who could resist fresh sushi!" Alastor thought, as he cackled away, his tentacles continued to tear apart the loan sharks to pieces, organs and blood scattering the ground. The screams soon stopped and the only sound that could be heard was overwhelming static and monstrous growls, as glowing bright eyes scanned all over, making sure all of the annoying pests were disposed of. "Al?" a soft voice had come from below him, making him freeze in shock. Turning around in his gigantic form, his eyes casted down, spotting you, gazing up at him with wide eyes, mouth opened into a perfect O shape.
"Oh no! Oh no no no no no! She wasn't meant to see this! She wasn't meant to see this grotesque part of me!" His thoughts were scattering, feeling fear for the first time. Alastor remembered when he promised himself that he would never have you see his true demonic form, fearing that once you saw how he looked, the eyes that you gave him that held no fear, would be no more. A sinner as sweet as you, who confessed to him about everything that you admired about him to his face, shouldn't have to see this. Alastor didn't know what to do and quickly turned away from you, ashamed at himself, until he heard a "Wow!" from behind him
*Your POV*
"WOAHHH HE'S SO TALL!" Your mind was racing with many thoughts, as you walked closer to Al, putting the bag of alcohol bottles down on the ground. "Holy crap, you got very big. Can you hear me from up there Al?" You raised your voice up a bit louder, figuring Al couldn't hear you since he was almost the size of the hotel now. Alastor slowly turned back around, with his radio dial eyes still present, but they looked at you with slight concern. Alastor had bent down a bit, trying to get closer to you, but keeping a good distance as he worried it would startle you. "Đ؀ޅ.ĐØ€Ş ŦĦƗŞ ŞƗĐ€ Ø₣ Μ€ ŇØŦ ₣ŘƗǤĦŦҀР¥ØỮ, Μ¥ Đ€ΔŘ? His voice was booming, possible due to being in his demonic form, but it was softer then when he was munching on the loan sharks. Gazing up at Al with confusion, you asked him why would you be frightened. Alastor had closed his eyes, turning his head to face away from you; "Ɨ ΜΔĐ€ Δ ƤŘØΜƗŞ€ ŦØ Μ¥Ş€Ł₣ ŦĦΔŦ ¥ØỮ Ŵ€Ř€ ŦØ Ň€V€Ř Ş€€ ŦĦƗŞ ŞƗĐ€ Ø₣ Μ€"
Narrowing your eyes at him , you let out a huff, before walking closer to him. "Pick me up." Alastor turned back around in shock, not expecting you to say that. After some hesitation, Alastor placed one of his large hands down in front of you, allowing you to step on to it. Holding on to one of his large fingers, you allowed him to hoist you up, becoming eye level now. Once you were eye to eye with him, you crooked your finger at him, telling him to move closer. Alastor hesitated again before moving his head closer towards you, his forehead and eyes being extremely close to you. Reaching one of your hands up, you placed it on his forehead, before moving closer and pressing a soft kiss on it. Alastor eyes had widen at your actions, but he didn't move from his position, as you continued to pepper kisses on his forehead. Removing your lips, you nuzzled your forehead against his, "Alastor, I told you before that I would never grow to fear you. Whatever form you take, I will never be afraid of you." Stepping back, you gazed into his bright eyes, lips drew into a soft smile.
Crimson dial eyes remained locked on you, as they slowly closed. A chuckle was heard from Al, as he shook his head from side to side, before moving closer to you, placing his forehead back against yours softly. "Darling, what a wonder you are." His voice had returned to normal, no ounce of static etched in it. The two of you remained in that position, before Alastor had pulled away, bright eyes peering at you with admiration. "As much as I love this form of yours, it would be better if you shrunk back down, especially since you won't be able to fit through the doors." You said with a laugh, earning you a loud booming laugh from Alastor, as his whole being shook, having to hold on to his fingers to steady yourself. "I suppose your right." Alastor said, as he slowly brought his hand back to the ground, allowing you to jump off his hand.
Your eyes continued to gaze at him, as his body slowly began to shrink, eyes returning back to normal slits, and large tentacles disappearing from his back. He was soon back to his old self, rubbing parts of his suit to be rid of any dirt or grime. His joker-like smile was still trained on you, but it was full of tenderness, as he look down at you. "There he is, the handsome devilish radio demon is back!" Smiling brightly at him, you placed your hand against his cheek, giving it a soft rub. Alastor gave you a genuine smile, grabbing your hand from his cheek and placing a soft kiss on to it. Releasing your hand, his arms had wrapped around your back, pulling you into a soft hug, his head moving closer to your neck, giving it a nuzzle, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. The sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of clapping behind the both of you. Looking ahead, you saw Mimzy approaching, a bit of a smirk on her face. "Oh Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo! As always. Thanks for helpin' lil' old me out of a tough spot, you're always such a pal!" Her dialogue got cut off, as some debris from the hotel fell next to her, making her jump a bit in shock. Appearing unapologetic, she looked back at the two of you, "Oops. Heheheh… sorry about the mess, but I'm sure the lil' bug can take care of it for ya."
Alastor had loosened the hug, turning all the way around, but not before hooking his arm with yours, keeping you close to him. His smile was still stretched out as always, but his eyes held irritation. "I think you should go, Mimzy. Now." He said towards Mimzy, stunning her for a bit. "Oh pff, Alastor, you're such a kidder, you! Haha, you are so funny!" She flicked her hand at him, not taking him seriously, but you knew that expression he wore, he was not in a joking mood, his eyes lacking mischief. "I mean it. You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess. I can't have that here." He had pulled you a bit closer, as he continued to talk with Mimzy, clearly telling her to f✪✪k off. She apparently did not take the hint, as she continue to ramble on, "But you love takin' care a' me! What? You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? Come on. I know you. you heartless son of a bi✪✪h~" Her finger continued to poke at his chest, causing him to let out a small growl.
Grabbing her finger from his chest, you pushed it off him, glaring down at her. "I believe he told you to leave." Mimzy did not appreciate you touching her and scoffed at you. "And who the hell are you dollface?" Wow, she even forgot who you were, and she literally just met you a few hours ago, when she barged in. "I'm the one who knows and sees the real Alastor, and doesn't try to exploit him to get out of sticky situations." Alastor eyes had widen at your words, a bit shocked at this fiery side of yours. Mimzy had backed up a bit, not expecting that: "Well I-" "Did I stutter? Leave!" Your words had cut her off, as you continued to glare down at her. Huffing while stomping her feet, she walked past the both of you: "Well fine! Who needs ya!" She continued to stomp away, not before flipping the both of you off.
You continued to glare at her when she walked away, before you got distracted by the sound of static-filled laugther next to you. "My my~ Who knew you were such a firecracker, my dear." Al had unhooked his arm from yours, but he wrapped it around your back pulling you closer. You gazed up at Al, who was smirking down at you, making you flush a bit. "You weren't meant to see that, I'm sorry." Your head dropped down in shame, until a hand had hooked your chin, motioning your head to look back up at him. "I quite like it, ma chérie. Just as you love the many sides of me, I very much enjoy this feisty side of you." His finger had traced your bottom lip, his crimson eyes filled with a strong desire as well as adoration. Inching closer, his lips had placed itself against your redden cheek, causing your heart to skip a beat. Pulling back, his smile was gentle, before he stood back to his regular height, his hand moving from your back to one of your open palms, interlocking your fingers. "Come along, my dear. We better head back inside!" He pulled you along, having you walk next to him, as you made your way back towards the hotel. He had snapped his fingers, using his powers to have the bag of liquor levitate behind the both of you. His hand was so warm. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, which he reciprocated back as you both went back inside to join the others.
-END-
Sinners:
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"actually?" "yeah, actually."
─ in which you accidentally bump (fall) into someone you might know in an indoor climbing gym
"his arms look really meaty..."
modern au! kinich x reader abt 2.1k words!
final part of part 1 this can be read as a standalone!
your user is sparkling toots in this fic
──────────────────────
"I'M DODGING I'M DODGING!!" you yell over the call, hastily pressing multiple keys and moving your mouse quickly. it's been a while since you played with your friend, almightydragonlord, yes, cheesy username. but still, you enjoyed playing with him as he makes everything easier, really, EVERYTHING easier. he helped you with your builds the first time you met him, albeit much to your refusal (felt insulted when his so-called lizard, 'ajaw' called your characters trash) (it was actually ajaw but you refuse to believe how a lizard can somehow spell out the words l o s e r).
anyways!
the only response you can hear from the other side of the call is loud typing, followed by a brief. "mhm" from the almightydragonlord. he's quiet, the only time he really speaks to you is when he's giving you constructive criticism or the rare times he chuckles when you die during boss fights. which you respond by angrily yelling at him.
"toots, behind you." snapping out of your thinking, you quickly dodge the incoming attack hurled behind your character by the boss you both were fighting. with one more quick setup from the almightydragonlord it was instantly over, the huge numbers brought by his characters becoming more and more like a regular sight for you. welp! at least your daily boss fighting is done for the day.
"dragonlord I'm gonna go now! i'll see you later?"
"mhm, see you"
"as curt as ever i see! bye!!"
and with that, you ended the call. pulling off your headphones and doing your daily routine to hang out with one of your friends later in the day.
───
"hi mualani!" you waved enthusiastically to your friend who was at a distance. she also waved back with the signature smile that she boasts.
as you make your way towards her you feel a sense of suspicion by the seemingly mischievous smile on her face.
"guess what we're doing today!"
"what?"
"rock climbing!" mualani says, clapping her hands together eagerly.
"we're going rock climbing?!" you cried, quickly whipping your head to look over at the outfit you wore today, which was clearly not appropriate for some activity. furthermore, you've never rock-climbed before except for that time in elementary in the local playground.
wait.
you did have some experience in rock climbing. maybe you should just rely on your memories from your elementary school days! but that was years ago.. and your outfit might hinder you from movements that are essential for climbing.
"don't worry. i got some extra clothes in the back of my car." mualani winks upon seeing your worried demeanor "also it's indoors! so we won't be climbing on real rocks! haha!" she pats your back reassuringly.
upon hearing that you breath a sigh of relief. "oh thank goodness" you say dramatically clasping your hands together. you knew you'd actually be fried if it really was real rock climbing. after the brief chat you both share you quickly make your way to her car door, quickly sitting down and buckling up before the car starts.
always. remember. to. buckle. up.
was the mantra you always repeated before getting into a car when you were young. nowadays putting on the seatbelt was just muscle memory for you. whenever you get into a car you put on your seatbelt without thinking. a necessary habit honestly.
the ride was short, it only took a few minutes to arrive at the indoor climbing gym. funny enough you saw a car with the plate "drgnlrd" parked near the gym. who the hell names their license plate like that?! it's also the same name as the username your friend online has.
well, it's probably just a coincidence!
as you both head into the gym with no expectations whatsoever you were instantly baffled by the sheer height of the
fake rock climbing thingy?
you don't know what it's called but you do know you'll be able to conquer it. i mean, you weren't called the ruler of the playground for nothing! you were dubbed "sonic" by your peers back in elementary for climbing super fast on the rock climbing part in the local playground near your house.
it's safe to say you might be the best (worst) one in the room!
as you head your way to the changing rooms in the gym you notice a familiar figure high up on the rock.
"his arms look really meaty..."
"what are you looking at? let's go so we can climb sooner!" a voice from behind you quickly snaps you out of your thoughts.
oh my god. why were you even thinking about how some random dude's muscles look tasty?? get a grip!
as the both of you head inside you remember the time when almightydragonlord sent a video of him skydiving. yes skydiving, falling out of a helicopter type of skydiving. the area he was skydiving at looked really familiar too!
wait.
familiar?
as you retrace back to the video he sent you, the feeling of dread forms in the pit of your stomach.
lush green trees, tall hilltops, and the distinctive sight of saurians.
lush green trees...
tall hilltops.
SAURIANS?!
NATIVE TO NATLAN SAURIANS?!
HE LIVES IN NATLAN?!?
BUT YOU LIVE IN NATLAN TOO??
ugh! you even shouldn't be thinking about him when your supposed to be conquering the climbing wall soon!
"ugh.. let's not think about this today..." you grumble, quickly putting on the clothes mualani handed you earlier. as you make your way outside the room mualani is already there waiting for you,
"hi!! ready partner?" she smirks at you, dragging you to the rock wall (which looks even more intimidating close up) that you have to conquer.
gulp.
NO!! you can do this. you weren't called the ruler of the playground for nothing. you can conquer this. maybe think of it as a necessary level to beat! plus you have a harness attached to you right now! so you won't wall to your death if you fall. and! if the harness fails you know who to sue to get money.
with one more final nervous gulp, you start conquering (climbing) the wall. when you look up you already see mualani way ahead of you. oh dear, looks like you have a time limit to this level.
"wait!!" you cried, starting to climb the wall, with ease actually, this was way easier than you thought!
"heh. I might actually be the ruler of the climbing gym now!" as you smirk to yourself you notice some weird white powder on mualani's hands? "mualani, what's that stuff on your hands?" you yell out above, "oh! this is climbing chalk, it helps strengthen the grip of your hands if they usually sweat." she yells back.
sweat
sweat
sweat
you know that feeling when you're suddenly aware of how your hands produce sweat and it sweats right after? yeah, it's sweating right now when you realize your hands have the function to sweat.
"oh uh! that's fun" you reply nervously, the word 'sweat echoing throughout your head, the feeling of your sudoriferous (sweat) glands activating within your hands right now, it isn't mandatory to lather that white stuff when you're climbing, so it should be fine...
right?
yeah no, it's not fine you can feel your hands sweating right now, loosening your grip, BUT,
it's not mandatory to lather that stuff so...
"hellloooo!! up from above! hurry up!" mualani's voice snaps you out of your thoughts once again as you look up in response, "we're almost to the top y'know!" she yells making you realize that you were really high up.
and that makes you sweat even more.
but you prevail! you grab onto the next wall hold, and the next, but the feeling of your grip getting weaker every second was not concerning at all! (lie) but you were almost there! you're about to beat mualani and claim the title of the ruler of the climbing gym!
"watch i'm going to win," you say confidently, but in that moment your grip was already weak, weak enough to make your hand slip.
the last thing you see is mualani's shocked expression, followed by one of relief and confusion..?
...
..
.
a hand quickly snakes around your waist, making sure you don't fall to your inevitable doom.
"you good?"
a familiar voice brushes against your ear, your stomach dropping. a foreign feeling of heat rushing to your face due to embarrassment.
as you look at the person who saved you, you are instantly dumbified.
a beautiful mixture of green and orange meets your eyes, with long, thick, dark lashes that compliment the brightness of his orbs, creating a stark contrast that makes it difficult to look away.
wait.
beautiful amber green eyes with dark fluffy hair.
no way.
is he..?
"almightydragonlord?" you say breathlessly, staring at his face shamelessly.
"oh?" his arm unconsciously tightens around your waist, a look of surprise painting his face with the utterance of his online username. in a few seconds his face begins light up as he realizes your identity, "sparklingtoots?" a subconscious smile making it's way to his features, which in turn causes you to gawk even more at him.
oh dear. that smile is deadly.
"t-thank you?" you say confused, blinded by his smile. gosh, he was cuter in person, instead of falling to your death maybe you'll die by the brightness of that smile instead.
wait.
shouldn't you be falling right now?
you slowly look down at your waist.
a hand.
his hand.
the hand you complimented earlier without realizing it was him.
snaked around your waist to prevent you from falling, the proximity between you two was worse, your left side touching his right, his fingers gripping your waist tightly to secure you onto him, the feeling of his forearm around your stomach firm.
oh archons, he's built too?
"u-um, aren't you tired?! shouldn't you let go?! uh! I have a harness don't worry! and I must be heavy!" you say nervously, the close proximity between you two was not helping your conversational skills whatsoever!
"oh sorry, it was on instinct, I'll let go if you want to" he slowly releases his hold on you, careful to not make you drop unexpectedly.
wait, wait, wait, wait.
you're still really high up! you might actually faint if you start free-falling!
you instantly grab his hand, positioning it back on your waist again. "wait! actually please keep holding on, i think it'll be terrifying once i start swinging down." you look up at him, eyes that basically read, 'please don't drop me or else I might actually pass out.'
"you think i'd drop you without any warnings?" he looks at you confused, his hand keeping a firm grip on you once again to prevent you from falling. "i mean... you're carrying a full-grown person right now, so you might claim that you won't drop me on purpose but i don't know if your hand is gonna agree!" you say worriedly in response.
"don't worry i'm strong." he replies, trying to reassure your worries "do you see my pocket? there's some climbing chalk in it, use your hand to get some."
"uh, which pocket?! the front or back?"
"any."
you hesitantly reach into the front pocket of his pants, grabbing a handful of chalk which you quickly lather all over your hands. "now use one of your hands to grab onto one of the holds closest to you" he instructs, which you quickly follow. as you grab onto a yellow hold and then grab onto another one until you are free from his hold, you realize just how much your grip has improved, that you should've just slathered on some climbing chalk before you started climbing to prevent this whole fiasco from happening...
"thank you! um, almigh-"
"kinich."
"oh! thank you the almighty dragon lord kinich!" you tease. in response, he lets out a brief chuckle that you've always heard on the calls you had together.
"i didn't know you lived in natlan!" you exclaim, slowly making your way down the wall. "i thought you knew?" he replies confused, keeping watch of you to make sure he'll catch you before you fall again. "shhh.. i know you sent me that skydiving video months ago but i just realized until today! also, do you do that stuff often..? i mean... you had no hesitation jumping off the helicopter!" you ask him in curiosity, it's strange! most people would hesitate for a bit before jumping off! but this dude didn't even look worried at all!
"oh yeah, i do a lot of stuff like that, like bungee jumping, mountain climbing, sky di-"
"HUH?!" you look at him in disbelief. is he one of those adrenaline junkies?!
"i know most people are shocked, but I find extreme sports enjoyable." he says, looking at you with a gentle smile.
oh dear, you don't think you'll get used to that smile anytime soon.
as you both make your way down, you learn more about the almightydra- kinich, how his lizard ajaw was really the one who made the nasty comments about your characters (which you still don't believe), and how many extreme sports he does, which was a lot. and mualani also descended down quickly to make sure you were okay! as you near the start of the climbing wall you swear you're gonna kiss the ground once you make it back down.
"oh my archons." you collapse on the floor, heaving a sigh of relief, at least you know now to make sure you have emergency climbing chalk in your pockets... you really should invest in some if you're planning to climb more in the future...
as you are laying down on the strangely comforting gym floor you feel a cold object against your forehead. "are you free after this?" a voice above you says as you look up to see kinich leaning over you, water bottle in hand, pressing it against you. just as you were about to respond you were quickly cut off by another voice above you. "yeah she's free!" mualani chirps above you, giving a thumbs up to kinich which she then looks down to wink at you. "I'll be going now. make sure to tell me everything after," who then looks down to whisper at you, giving you a mischievous grin before walking away.
kinich then drops down beside you, turning his head to face you.
"lunch with me today?" he asks, which in turn you grin, "are you asking out on a date? the almighty dragon lord kinich! asking me out on a date! can you believe it?!" you tease,
"and what if i was?" he responds, his amber-green eyes meeting with yours.
"h-huh? actually?" you say surprised, taken aback by his forwardness. you knew he was curt but you didn't expect it to translate over to real life! "yeah, actually." he stands up, offering his hand to you. you grab his hand as he helps you stand up before facing him.
"also, don't worry, i don't do extreme sports with my car." he flashes you a grin.
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A/N!! OH MY GOSH HELLO EVERYONE. thank u all for the support from part 1, I hope you guys liked this one as much as the previous one!! I tried really hard to not make kinich ooc... (I hope I didn't..) I looked up his lore and stuff and found out he liked doing extreme sports! and the skydiving from the previous one I wrote was pretty unexpected BUT!! akshually (nerd emoji) "As a core member of the Scions of the Canopy tribe, Kinich is fond of extreme sports, and is said by his companion K'uhul Ajaw to have plunged headfirst off a cliff and lived to see it (LIKE!! THATS BASICALLY SKY DIVING!!)" quote the genshin wiki!! anyways I hope you enjoyed reading this.HAVE A GOOD DAY OR NIGHT!!
#kinich x reader#kinich x you#genshin kinich#genshin kinich x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin impact kinich x reader#k'uhul ajaw#ajaw
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Could you do a yandere Caitlyn kiramman from arcane x fem reader?
thank you for your request! sorry if this is ooc, i feel that i am not that good at writing for caitlyn but i tried. </3 also!! no s2 spoilers :)
content warnings: controlling and obsessive behavior, little bit of infantilizing, forced drugging, implied kidnapping.
❝yandere!caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader❞
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Whether you were from Zaun or Piltover treats you with kindness. If you're from Piltover she thinks of you as an equal and might admire you to some degree if you are talented. If you're from the undercity she might have some reservations about you at first but as she gets to know you better she puts those thoughts aside and begins to see you as an equal and friend. For this though let's just assume you both are co-workers!
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I think Caitlyn is so focused and goal-driven she will have difficulty realizing she likes you more than just a comrade or friend. It will start with longing glances, she spaces out just staring at you without even realizing she is missing orders from her superior. When others ask Cait what she thinks of you, she gets a bit distracted.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁"She's an excellent friend and partner. .! I could not imagine anyone else replacing her. I find her very admirable, her strength and her clever nature. The way she holds her gun, when she forgets a loose button on top of her uniform, the way her eyes widen when she-" and on and on and on. . .
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 It actually takes someone else to point out her obvious crush on you for her to realize. She is completely flabbergasted and in denial at first, "What! No way- what are you talking about? Yes, she is my friend but also my co-worker! That'd be completely unprofessional!"
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 But then she can't stop overanalyzing all her interactions with you. Whenever you enter a room her heart sinks to her stomach. God forbid you actually go beside her, her brain completely malfunctions in a way she has never experienced before. You're just so talented.. and beautiful. No! She just really, really, really admires you. It's not an actual crush..! Right?
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Caitlyn had never really experienced romantic feelings for someone before, she has been so focused on her goals and proving herself she never had the time to. Of course, there was many people offering their hand for her but it was always met with a firm but polite 'no.'
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She hated all the male suitors her parents tried to coerce her into meeting at least, to see if it's a match. To please her parents she would but every single one was awful. They saw her only as an object, a pretty thing to marry and show off as a trophy. A tool for power, not in the least caring for her dreams and aspirations.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 But you, you were so different. You were kind and actually cared for her opinions even if she tended to push the boundaries of her actual duties. You never gave up on her even when it felt like the world did.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Welp, she couldn't deny it anymore, she in fact had a big fat crush on you. What to do next? Oh, pretend everything is normal and hopefully it goes away.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 But it doesn't. In fact it gets even worse the more she tries to conceal it. Stumbling over words like a blabbering fool as you attempt to talk to her, her co-workers laugh at her making her even more flushed!
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 It wasn't until one day her obsession with you truly began. It was one of Jinx's ambushes again and there were explosions, it wasn't good. It was very bad. Most of her peers had died unexpectedly, not even getting a chance to fight back. Caitlyn herself got injured but all she could think about was you.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 It took about an hour of searching the premises before she finally found you, stuck and unconscious under a pile of rubble. You looked bad, it struck a fear in Caitlyn, seeing you like that, she never wished to feel it again. She carried you herself to get some help despite limping and bleeding from her own wounds.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Luckily you got help in immediate time and you came to in a hospital bed, Caitlyn herself passed out in a chair beside you with her head in your lap. You could see the dark bags under her eyes, you figured she must've not been getting enough sleep. Has she been with you the entire time you've been out of commission?
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 During your healing process which would be a long while, Caitlyn took a rare deprive from her work, also recovering her lesser injuries. She spent most of her time beside you, making sure you ate, bringing you things to keep you entertained like books, helping you stand to the bathroom for goodness sake. It still couldn't keep her entirely out of her work though, in fact it made her even more determined to find this 'Jinx' and get justice for you and her friends, of course. She was almost obsessed with the case and capturing Jinx, and it all stemmed from her growing protection over you.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Caitlyn struggled to sleep, having nightmares of the explosion and you, your bloody body now mangled and unrealistically morphed into something terrifying. She'd wake up in fright, only to find herself sleeping on your lap with you sleeping sound. She'd brush back your hair, vowing to never let you get hurt like that again.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 All of this came to a climax when you were finally well enough to be released from the hospital. You were a bit rusty but you were antsy to get back to work, you felt so useless being trapped in a hospital bed.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Caitlyn, however, was not ready for you to leave and go back to action. You were still so weak, what if something happens and you aren't able to react quickly enough? What if you die?
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Cait could not stand for it and so she pleaded for you to reconsider, just a month or a week more! But you were adamant about heading back, no matter what Caitlyn said. So she gave in but she was not going to let you get hurt under her watch.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She was like a shadow you could never get rid of. Always hovering around you and staring at you with those crystal blue eyes warily, waiting almost so she can step in and help you. Even if you were put in different groups, she'd stray just so she can make sure you're okay. Need some water? Oh, careful there's a rock there! Are you okay? Be careful. Be careful. Be careful.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You could not handle it anymore, it felt not only suffocating but demeaning with the way she treated and looked at you as though you were glass.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You snapped, yelling at her to leave you alone and that you're an adult, you are capable of defending yourself. After snapping you felt a bit guilty seeing her face. She looked completely shocked and almost like a kicked over puppy, those big blue eyes looking sad now. Caitlyn could only watch in silence as you walked away from her, trying to calm down. And for once, she did not follow.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 A couple days passed with no progress on the Jinx case and it seemed that Cait had finally gotten the hint and left you alone. You felt almost bad, when you were near she'd glance at you and quickly look away as if hurt. You didn't want to stop being friends, just that it was getting to a point of controlling behavior.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You took it upon yourself to visit the Kiramman household, wanting to apologize and become friends again. You did miss her, you both had especially gotten close after spending so much time healing. Perhaps that is why it hurt so much that she didn't trust you.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Caitlyn looked shocked when you showed up on her doorstep but let you in nonetheless, pretending everything was normal. She offered you tea and you agreed.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Sitting both down, you finally let it out that you reacted too harshly that day and that you wanted to continue being friends. That you missed her.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Taking a deep exhale after saying all of that, you waited for her reaction. Cait was serene and hard to read, not responding right away instead taking her teacup and sipping on her tea.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Please have some of your tea, it is imported from Ionia."
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You stare at her a bit, is that all she had to say? Not even an acknowledgement or, hell, even a refusal to forgive you? You sigh and drink the tea anyways and she begins to actually speak.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁"You see, over the last couple of days, no, months that I have been by your side whilst you heal has made me have a realization." She glances up at you from her tea.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "I love you." All thoughts disappear from your head the moment those words are uttered, so calmly as well. "And when you love something, you protect it. Your outburst at me the other day made me truly realize this, what you're doing to yourself- it's a cry for help. You are not fit to be an enforcer, it is too dangerous and with Jinx still out there.. I am afraid I can't let you leave again." Wait, what?
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Just as she finishes speaking your vision begins to spin. You start seeing two Caitlyn's instead of one, the teacup in your hands wobbles and breaks in shards on the ground. Caitlyn tuts and stands up, grabbing your shoulders gently and laying you back down onto the couch before you could fall.
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "There we go. I'm sorry it had to be this way but don't worry, I will find Jinx and make her pay for doing this to you. Just rest, my dear."
💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Even then, Caitlyn stays by your side while gently caressing your cheek. Your vision fades and you fall asleep.
a/n: guys.. i may have went a bit overboard with writing this but it was more fun that i had thought! i hope i did yan caitlyn justice! <3 also this is kind of foreshadowing a little bit of s2 cait?? but in a alternative universe. also see how caitlyn's suitors just thought of her as an object and now she is doing the same thing to reader unintentionally.. parallels!!
#yandere#yandere headcanons#arcane#yandere drabble#yandere hcs#yandere caitlyn#yandere caitlyn kiramman#yandere arcane#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn x reader#yan caitlyn#yan caitlyn x reader#yandere caitlyn x reader#fem reader#wlw writing
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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART NINE
previous chapters | welp. hey everybody, it's been a little while since this updated, huh? those who follow me will know i haven't been having the best time lately and had to put this fic on hold for a little bit. but finally an update is here, and i'm so excited to share it with you. thank you so much for being so patient and lovely. i also wanna give a huge shoutout to han @swiftispunk who's been there for me relentlessly throughout this rough period and who kept encouraging me whenever i thought this would never get written. i couldn't ask for a better writing buddy & friend, ilysm. i hope you guys like this chapter and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: joel is taking you away for the weekend, which only means one thing: your v card is going bye-bye. rating: 18+ explicit warnings for this chapter: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, tummy bulge, oral (f receiving), catholic guilt, panic attacks, phone sex, mutual masturbation, lap sitting, lingerie, fingering, there is so much goin on pls lmk if i forgot smth word count: 25k (what the fuck) ao3
It's crazy how one weekend can change everything.
After days of feeling like shit and wanting - or forcing yourself to want - absolutely nothing to do with Joel anymore, you'd wound up naked in bed together. An ironic twist to the men ain't shit mantra you and Tasha had been trying to live by for the past forty eight hours. You'd laid with your head on his chest, exhausted and sated, listening to his and your own equally haggard breathing slow to a quiet thrum of background noise. You'd kissed the spot above his nipple, soft and warm against your lips as he carded his fingers through your hair and peppered kisses all along the crown of your head.
"So you're taking me away, huh?" you'd asked him in the heavenly afterglow of your orgasms, still tangled together under the sheets.
He'd smiled sleepily, squeezed you tighter in his arms and pulled you in as close as he could, "I'm takin' you away," he'd promised quietly, "Just you n' me. Gonna make this right."
Unbeknownst to him, everything had already become right again the moment he'd walked through the bedroom door.
Tasha had come back about an hour after you'd finished, roused you both from a quick nap by knocking quietly at the door and saying, "Hate to bother you guys but we gotta be out of here by four and the place is a disaster." Looking down at the mascara stained pillowcase beneath your head, you'd known she was right.
A few hours later you'd stood at the airport once again, arms wrapped tightly around Tasha as you buried your face in her shoulder and thanked her over and over again for everything; for being there, for listening, for understanding, for texting Joel, everything.
"You're gonna make me cry," she'd mumbled in your ear, hugging you back just as tightly, "Please, I just did what a good friend does."
You'd hoped she knew that she's the first good friend you've ever had.
Just before she'd headed to her gate, she'd pulled something out of her purse and handed it to you discreetly, palm down. You'd glanced downward to see a little blue package, thin and rectangular.
"Start taking these tonight," she'd said softly, "Take one every day at the same time. Promise me."
"What is it?"
She'd rolled her eyes, "Oh, you sweet summer child."
--
You know what birth control is. You're not that clueless. You just.... haven't really seen it before.
Now, having a pack of it in your possession, in your bedroom of all places, hidden in one of your dresser drawers beneath socks and underwear... it somehow feels more scandalous than the bikini. More scandalous than Joel's flannel beneath your mattress. More scandalous than those short little dresses folded in a bag in the back of your closet.
Birth control means sex. If your parents found your clothing purchases or Joel's flannel you could probably get away with some kind of lie, an excuse. But if they found this.... you don't even want to think about what would happen.
Take one every day at the same time. Promise me.
You pop out a pill quickly before shoving the package back into your dresser, then hurry to the bathroom with it tucked in your palm, clasped tightly between your fingers. You take it quickly with a handful of water and then stare at your reflection in the mirror for a moment, eyes bright. You're expecting to feel an ounce of shame, some guilt creeping in - but you don't. Instead, you find yourself smiling, face going hot when you think about the reason why you're taking these in the first place.
"Dinner's ready!" you hear your mom call from downstairs, and you yank yourself away from the bathroom mirror before your thoughts can get any more X rated.
She hadn't said anything to you when you got home, but then again you hadn't really given her a chance to. Now you shuffle into the kitchen and take a seat at the table, eyeing her quietly and wondering if the silent treatment is over. Your father comes in from the living room before you can find out, taking his usual seat and giving you a stern look.
"I heard you spent the weekend with one of your college friends," he states.
You stare at him for a second, unsure what to really say. You settle for a shrug, "Uh, yeah. Just had a girls' weekend at an Airbnb."
"I'm just curious why you're making time for friends you'll be seeing again in September when there are people here you've barely even said hello to," he raises an eyebrow, squaring his shoulders, "You said the other week you'd be volunteering again, didn't you? Doing more things to better yourself?"
"Well, I helped out at Sunday School," you offer with a grimace, but you already know it's not enough.
"I'm not talking about helping out here and there every now and then," he shakes his head and eyes your mother as she walks over with two plates of dinner, places them in front of the both of you without making eye contact, "You need a weekly activity, something steady, right dear?"
Your mother's gaze flits to yours quickly as he says this and you know exactly what she's thinking without her having to say it: do not mention the guitar lessons. But what the fuck are you supposed to say? You get that she doesn't want your father knowing until your little "plan" has bore a little more fruit, but it isn't fair that he still thinks you need some kind of weekly activity to attend when you already have one. Or, at least, a cover for one.
Maybe your mother can solve this problem for you.
"Well, actually-" you begin, only bluffing, but she bangs the water jug on the table before you can continue.
"I'll work on it with her, don't worry," she says quickly, shaking her head at you as discreetly as she can, "We'll figure something out together."
As usual, your father is oblivious to anything amiss. He just nods and extends his hands to start the prayer, "Sounds good."
Dinner is the usual boring affair, barely any conversation to be had as your father scarfs it down and heads to his office, leaving you and your mother sitting at the table in silence. You poke absentmindedly at your broccoli, thinking about Joel - he wants to see you again tonight, maybe talk about some stuff, and you're not really sure how to feel about it yet; you want to know more about his ex wife, his daughter, want to understand him and his life a little better, but it also scares you a bit. Hearing about his relationship with another woman - a woman who clearly still has a prominent position in his life - it's gonna be a lot to take in.
He also wants to talk about taking you away - a much less scary thought.
"So, you had a good weekend?" your mom asks quietly, and you look up in surprise - you'd thought the silent treatment was still ongoing.
"Yeah, it was nice," you reply - simplistic and not a very true answer, but it's not like you can tell her about anything that happened.
"What did you do?"
You shrug again, "Just watched movies and hung out, talked about how our summers have been going," you take a bite of broccoli and hope she won't press it any further.
"Did you go to your lesson on Saturday?"
You nod quickly, swallowing and doing your best to keep eye contact, "Yep, I learned some new chords." Bullshit. "Mr. Miller is a really good teacher." Less bullshit.
She doesn't say anything else right away and you manage to completely finish your meal before she drops her fork and turns to you with a sigh. "I know what you're thinking and no, I still haven't told your father about it. I already explained why-"
"Because you don't want him getting involved before I've made progress, I know."
"So have you? Been making progress?"
Oh, the things you could say in response to that question. "I think I have. He's, um... he's been very interested in the hymns."
"Which ones are you learning?"
Oh fuck.
"It's a surprise," you say quickly, flashing her a fake smile, "Don't wanna jinx it, ya know?"
Her brows furrow but she doesn't question it, nodding slowly and taking a deep breath as she grabs both your plates and walks to the sink. You sit there for a moment, not wanting to get up until you know for sure the conversation is over.
"So it's working, you think?" she finally asks, turning on the tap and rinsing the dishes, "You're helpin' him?"
You swallow, thankful she's not looking at you as your hands ball into fists against the wood of the table, "Yes," you lie quietly, "Definitely."
--
"You need to teach me a hymn," is the first thing you say to Joel that night as you walk through his front door, passing right by him without so much as a hug, "Or two. Two hymns, maybe three, I don't know."
"Hello to you too," he says with a chuckle, shutting the door and walking over to you to wrap his arms around you from behind, "S'wrong? You alright?"
You have to admit, being wrapped in his arms certainly does make the anxiety ebb away. You close your eyes and lean back into his grasp, sighing deeply and trying to ground yourself as best you can. Ever since that conversation with your mother you feel like your brain has been working on overdrive, reminding you over and over that you're so fucking behind on what you're meant to be doing to keep this façade intact.
"I'm just stressed," you mutter, "My mom asked about the lessons and I didn't know what to say and now I'm all up in my own head again as usual."
You feel him tuck his head against your shoulder, squeeze you tighter, "Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, breath so warm against your ear it makes you shiver, "We'll find a couple easy ones and I'll teach you. You can borrow my guitar too, practice at home."
"My dad still doesn't know," you sigh, "She's waiting for me to have some sort of breakthrough with you to tell him."
He snorts, "And what exactly does this 'breakthrough' look like?"
"I don't know, a pool of golden light? Heavenly angels singing praise?"
He chuckles against your skin, pressing a kiss there, "Well, that'll be easy. That happens every time I make you come."
You feel your cheeks bloom with heat, lips tightening into a bashful smile as he pulls you in closer and noses your ear once again, scruff tickling the skin there. You hum contentedly, pretending for a moment that your parents aren't involved on the sidelines of this relationship, that their opinions don't matter and there doesn't need to be any sort of ulterior reason for your being here - then you remember that you're going to have a whole weekend to pretend that's the case, and you smile wider.
You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his torso and peering up at him. He's so handsome as usual, hair messy, eyes brown and deep. It's impossible not to lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips, so of course you do, eyes closing as you melt against his mouth. He kisses you back just as soft, rubs your back gently as he holds you close.
"I'm so sorry, angel," he murmurs quietly against your lips, and you find yourself pulling away to look at him in confusion.
"For what?"
He shakes his head, eyes sad, "For everythin' I put you through this weekend, all that added stress," you go to interrupt but he brings one of his hands up to gently press his finger to your lips, stopping you, "Don't tell me not to apologize. I did wrong by you. I wanna fix it."
You swallow, remembering the woman at the bar - his ex wife, remembering the way he'd smiled before he kissed her, the way those soft brown eyes looking at you right now had looked directly into hers as well...
Your stomach twists uncomfortably.
"I meant what I said, about tellin' you everything," he murmurs, "I want... I want you to know me, ya know? I..." he breathes deeply, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours, "God, I'm not good at this."
"Good at what?" you whisper, and you feel him shrug in your embrace.
"Just.... bein' open."
You pull back a bit to peer at him again, feeling your stomach unclench when you see that unsure look on his face, the worry lines prominent on his forehead and those plump lips downturned into a frown. He's still afraid he's lost you, you can tell.
"Well, I wanna hear what you have to say," you murmur, "I do wanna learn more about you. But it's okay, Joel. I'm not heartbroken, not anymore."
He winces at your words, "But you were," he closes his eyes again, "You were heartbroken, baby. I hurt you. We... she -" he cuts himself off to sigh, "She didn't know about you when she kissed me, alright? I hadn't told her, and that's on me."
Oh. You didn't know that.
"Why... why didn't you tell her?"
"Because I was a coward," he says immediately, "I didn't... I wasn't..." he takes another deep breath and pulls away from you, unlocking himself from your embrace to grip your arms in both his hands, "Okay," he breathes, "I'm really bad at this, darlin', forgive me if it comes out weird."
You're not sure what he's about to say but you can feel your heart beginning to beat faster in your chest as he stands there looking at you, brow furrowed as if he's completely out of his element, and you suppose he is.
"I haven't... god, I don't wanna scare you but..." he chews his lip for a moment, lost in thought, "I just... I meant it, when I said that I think about you all the time. I really, really meant it."
You stare at him for a moment, processing his words. What is he saying? That he didn't tell his ex wife about you because of how much he thinks about you? How does that make sense? You silently curse yourself for your naivety, your inexperience with relationships. You're sure if Tasha was here she'd be able to tell you exactly what he means.
You're about to ask him to elaborate when you suddenly catch a glimpse of something on the mantel of the fireplace, something that you can't recall ever seeing before. Your eyes go slightly wide and he notices immediately, following your gaze.
"Oh," he says quietly, "Um, yeah, I... I put up some pictures."
His grip on your arms releases when he realizes you want to get a closer look. You make your way over to the fireplace with careful steps, eyeing the framed photograph in front of you as it slowly comes more into focus.
It's Joel - a much younger Joel. You're not sure how young, but there are no signs of age on his face, skin smooth and bare and hair trimmed neatly beneath a baseball cap. He's standing behind a swing, pushing an adorable little toddler in front of him, a big smile on her face as she kicks her chubby legs high into the air.
You stare at it for a long time without saying anything, warmth bursting through your chest the longer your gaze flicks from him to the baby, the baby to him. There's something in her brown eyes, something recognizable, and you realize it's because they're his eyes.
You're looking at his daughter.
"What's her name?" you finally ask, voice soft.
"Sarah," he replies - he sounds close behind you but he doesn't touch you, doesn't make any move to embrace you again, just lets you absorb the information in your own time.
"Sarah," you repeat quietly, thoughtfully, "How old is she there?"
"Few days before her second birthday," he says, and you swear you can hear the hint of a smile in his voice, "Installed that swing set in the backyard for her as a present, but I couldn't wait 'til her birthday to show her - I was too excited."
You smile at his words, feeling fondness flood your thoughts as your gaze falls back to the much younger Joel. He looks a little like the boys you've seen at college, extremely handsome but inexperienced, naïve, maybe even a little lost... kind of like you. You squint your eyes a bit, as if staring at him will help you figure out exactly how old he is.
"I'm twenty in that one," he answers for you.
Your eyebrows shoot up and you finally turn around to look at him, a look of shock prominent on your face. "But... that would mean you had her -"
"When I was eighteen, yeah," he gives you a wistful half smile, "Remember that 'trouble' I told you I got in right outta high school? The mysterious thing I did that got me disowned?" he gestures toward the photo with a light chuckle, "Well, there she is. Little Miss Trouble, Sarah Miller."
Your brow furrows. You remember what he'd said on his back deck that day, the way he'd stopped himself from revealing too much. He'd been so close to telling you, and yet...
"Why didn't you just tell me then?" you ask softly, "That day in your backyard, you... you coulda told me about her."
His smile fades into a frown, eyes going downcast, "I was afraid," he admits softly, "I didn't... I didn't want this to end so soon. I didn't wanna scare you off."
You feel a pang in your heart, a sensation of sadness that bubbles up within you as you peer at his melancholic expression, the shame in his eyes. He really thinks you're five seconds away from running out the door, leaving his life for good and forgetting this whole thing between the two of you even happened. You can see it in his expression, the way he's standing like he's small, the same way he'd looked last night when Tasha had tugged you out of his house and into a cab.
You make your way toward him, palm outstretched as you reach up and press it to the side of his face. His gaze comes up to meet yours, watery and sad and - god, he's beautiful. So, so beautiful.
"I'm not going anywhere," you whisper honestly, shaking your head and smiling softly, "Not before you teach me at least two hymns."
His frown breaks into a grin and he rolls his eyes, the tears spilling over a little bit as he sniffs and tries to pull himself together. You just bring your other hand up to fully cup his face, turning his head so he's looking directly into your eyes.
"I mean it, Joel," you breathe, and you think you're starting to understand what he meant, "You say you think about me all the time, but... I think about you all the time. I can't stop thinking about you," your voice quivers a bit and you feel tears begin to sting in your own eyes, "Even when I was trying to force myself not to think about you, I couldn't do it."
You thumb his cheeks lightly, feeling them tighten under your palms as he smiles again. You can't help but lean forward to brush your nose against his, closing your eyes.
"I think... I don't know, I just feel like-"
"I know," he interjects softly, "I feel it too, angel. Scares the hell outta me, doesn't even seem possible to feel it after such a short length of time, but I do."
You open your eyes to peer at him again, "Is that why you didn't tell her? 'Cause you were scared of how you feel?"
"Yes," he murmurs, "I knew if I told her... if I let myself really feel what I've been feelin'... I'd have to face the fact that I'd been dishonest with you, that I hadn't been showin' you my true self, ya know? And that's... that's always been hard for me." He takes a breath, "She was real sad that night. She... she was comin' on strong, cause she really needed somebody. And I almost gave myself to her, you should know that. I don't wanna lie to you."
It hurts to hear it, but at the same time you're glad he's telling you, glad he feels safe to express himself the same way you do with him.
"We weren't... we weren't official or anything," you mumble, eyes casting downward.
"No, we weren't," he agrees softly, "But it still wouldn't've been right, angel, not for you and not for me. I didn't want it, I just... I just felt for her, ya know? We've been doin' this thing so long, it can be hard to say no, especially when it's someone you care about."
"But you did."
He nods, "I did. And then I told her about you and she understood."
You peer up at him again, unsure, "She understood? Really?"
He smiles, "She understood, sweetheart. She's a good person, I promise. But I also promise that I don't feel things for her the way I used to, not anymore. And our arrangement is over." He blinks away a few tears, locking his eyes with yours again, "Do you believe me?"
You nod slowly, taking in his words. You find that you do believe him, don't even question a word of what he's saying to you. It should probably scare you to trust him this much, to wholeheartedly sense nothing but earnestness from his demeanor and words, but it doesn't. It feels good to hear him say these things and to know that he means it, that he's finally being himself.
"So who are you then, really?" you ask softly, "Who's this whole other Joel Miller I've been missing out on?"
He laughs lightly, bumping his nose against yours, "Well, darlin'... he's old and he's boring, keeps to himself, works too much..." he takes a breath, then meets your gaze again, eyes soft and tender, "And he's fuckin' crazy about you."
His words embed themselves into your brain almost immediately, sending tingles up and down your spine as your arms come up to wrap around him and pull him into a kiss. He seems surprised by your response but only for a moment, then wraps his own arms around you and pulls you in as close as he can, cradles you as he kisses you back with that familiar warmth and safety you've always felt with him.
He's fuckin' crazy about you.
You find yourself moving the two of you toward the couch and he lets you, your legs tangling together as you shuffle over to it. You slowly settle onto it together, him sitting pretty beneath you while you situate yourself in his lap, a leg on either side of his thighs. You don't stop kissing him, whimpering softly into his mouth when his hand stills firmly on your back, holding you close.
"What're you doin', babygirl?" he breathes against your lips, voice dark and husky - he already knows the answer.
You don't reply, just deepen the kiss and grind yourself down into his crotch, feeling his already half hard cock press against you through your shorts. You whimper again, pulling back to look at him through lidded eyes.
"Huh?" he asks softly, his own eyes already dark and unfocused, "What're you doin', sweetheart? What d'you need?" He bucks his hips up with his words and you gasp, clinging to him tightly and resting your head on his shoulder. "Need my cock, don't you, baby?"
You nod even though he can't see you, close your eyes and whisper, "I need it so bad."
"Need it deep inside, huh?"
You swallow and shiver, grinding down against him again in response. He holds you firm in his lap and brings his lips to your ear, trails his fingers up and down your back.
"I'm gonna give it to you, baby, I promise," he murmurs, voice gravelly and low, "Gonna fill you up so good, have you cryin' on it."
You whimper again, squeezing your eyes tighter and imagining how it'll feel to have his enormous size spreading your insides, pushing into the deepest parts of you. It's almost too much to bear, too much to imagine as you whine into his shoulder. You want it now, but you also know that now isn't the right time.
"I- I started taking birth control," you whisper, clinging to him tighter.
He seems to freeze beneath you for a moment, and then his hands move down to squeeze your ass, drag you slowly down the length of him - now fully hard - as you whine again.
"Good girl," he whispers, pinning you to his cock through his jeans, "That's- fuck, you're such a good girl."
You keen at his praise, whimpering into his shoulder as he drags you back and forth along his cock, the denim rough against your bare thighs. You think about what you'd both done together earlier today, the way it felt to have his entire length thrusting through your folds, the head catching on your hole every so often. The way it felt to have the wide tip pressed just enough inside of you, warm and pulsing.
"Take it out, please," you moan softly, pulling back to look at him again, "Wanna feel it. Please, Joel."
He groans at your words, nods quickly and adjusts you carefully in his lap so he can tug down his zipper. You watch as he reaches inside and pulls himself out, and your mouth immediately begins to water as soon as you catch sight of the dark tip, already wet and leaking. Without any hesitation at all your hand moves downward to wrap around his shaft, holding it in your palm.
"This was inside me," you whisper, the words sounding wonderfully filthy in your mouth as your thumb traces his throbbing tip, remembering how it had felt pushing against you.
"Yeah, it was," he murmurs. He's watching you closely, looking up at you with a lustful expression as you touch him, "Felt so good inside you, baby. Wanted to push all the way in so bad, fill you up."
You shiver, "Why didn't you?"
"'Cause I wanna take my time with you, angel. Wanna fuck you slow, get you used to it," he groans when you start to slowly stroke him up and down, eyes not leaving where you're touching him, "Gonna have you beggin' for it."
Without much thought you reach down and start to tug pathetically at your shorts, wanting them off. The angle is awkward and you can't move them properly, something which he notices right away, eyebrows going up.
"You wanna rub on it again, sweetheart?" he asks, his hands going immediately to your waistband.
You nod furiously, desperate whimpers escaping your lips as he eases you up a bit to pull them down. You bend your legs to accommodate his movements, lifting from his lap for just a moment as he tugs down both your shorts and panties, leaving you bare. He wastes no time in pulling you back down again, both of you letting out simultaneous gasps as his cock slips perfectly against your center, wet and waiting.
"Joel," you whine, burying your face in his shoulder and letting him begin to drag you back and forth on his cock again without any clothes in the way. It feels so fucking good, both of your most intimate parts touching and rubbing in sweet and filthy harmony while you cry into his shirt. One of his hands snakes up your back, holds you firm again as he helps you move.
"That's my perfect angel," he murmurs in your ear, voice shaky, "Thaaaat's my pretty girl, so wet for me. Always so fuckin' wet."
"Can't help it," you sob into his shoulder, feeling your stomach tighten every time his warm cock rubs up against your clit, "Can't help it, Joel, feels so good. You make me feel so good."
"I know," he moans in your ear, "I know I do, baby, I know."
It doesn't take long at all for your orgasm to hit you, a high pitched whine clawing its way out of your throat as you frantically grind against his cock and then still as the waves of pleasure wash over you. He rubs your back, holds you close, lets you feel all of it before pressing a finger to your chin and gently turning your face to look at him.
"Yep," he breathes, assessing your expression, "there's that pool of golden light. Heavenly angels singin' praise. You hear 'em?"
You laugh shakily, still overwhelmed at the feeling of his cock continuing to pulse against your pussy. He keeps holding you there without moving, letting you come down from your high, allowing the moment to stay soft and peaceful as he watches your face. Your eyes are tired - you're still not fully recovered from your busy weekend and he can tell.
"You look sleepy, babygirl," he murmurs softly, "Want me to carry you up?"
You shake your head quickly, "No, I still gotta make you come. Just gimme a minute."
He chuckles, "You don't gotta do anything, honey. You know that right? Need you to know that you don't owe me anythin', not ever."
He really is too considerate for his own good, but there's absolutely no way you're gonna leave him hanging like that. With a sly smile you shake your head again and lift your hips up a bit, bringing your hand down to wrap around his cock again. His jaw goes slack, eyes still staring into yours as you start to stroke him again.
"I wanna make you come," you correct yourself, leaning forward to press a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth, "I want..." you drop your gaze bashfully, trying to let the dirty talk flow naturally like his does as you play with his cock, "I want you to make a mess on me."
"On you?" he asks, clearly surprised by your sudden boldness, "Where, baby? Where d'you want me to make a mess?"
With your other hand - slightly trembling - you pull your shirt up and palm the swell of your belly, just above your mound. He groans, low and lustful.
"On your tummy, baby?" he murmurs, "You want me to get your tummy all messy with my cum?"
You nod, biting down on your lip and pumping his cock faster, eyes coming back up to meet his gaze again as you get him off.
"Want it to drip down onto your pussy, huh?" he continues, brows drawing together in pleasure, "'Cause that's where it belongs, doesn't it?"
You nod again, "It does, Joel," you whisper, "It belongs there."
"You want me to come inside you this weekend, babygirl?" his voice is strained, so close to edge and you moan at his words, eyes still locked onto his, "Yeah, you do, don't you?"
"I do," you whimper, the truth stumbling from your lips before you can even really process it, "I want it so bad, Joel. Want you to fill me up."
With one last groan his eyes roll back and he starts to come all over your stomach, exactly where you'd wanted him to. Holding him in your hand while he comes is a brand new experience - his cock pulses and twitches within your grasp as he makes a strangled noise and brings his hand up to cover his face, overwhelmed by the sensation. You bite down on your lip and watch as his cum paints your skin in thick spurts, warm and thick.
"Fuck," he finally mutters after a moment of heavy breathing, bringing his hand down from his face to look at you again with a sated expression, "You're filthy, baby."
You feel your cheeks warm, eyes going down to where his cum drips down your belly. His gaze follows yours and he smirks, reaching forward to carefully thumb a bit that's trailing dangerously close to your pussy and pushing it up and away from where it shouldn't go - yet, anyway.
"In more ways than one," he murmurs softly, then meets your gaze again. Despite the depraved circumstances you still can't help but feel shy, head tilting away from him as you smile sheepishly and slip out of his lap, pretending not to hear the embarrassingly loud squelch of wet skin against wet skin. You see him grin in the corner of your eye, clearly still fond of your bashfulness.
"I'm gonna need a shower," you say shyly, eyeing your discarded shorts on the floor.
"Go shower, darlin'," he says, still seated on the couch with his legs open and his softening cock peeking through the open zipper of his jeans, "I'll get my bed all comfy for you."
At the mention of his bed you find a little bit of the anxiety from earlier return in the pit of your stomach, twisting uncomfortably. He notices your reaction immediately, a frown settling into his features as he assesses your expression.
"What is it?"
You avoid eye contact, biting your lip and awkwardly tugging your shirt down over your thighs so you're less exposed, "Um, I know nothing happened, I know you didn't... but um, did..." you grimace, "Did she..."
He stands up immediately, tugging his zipper as he goes and reaching you in a single stride, arms coming up to touch your shoulders. You look up and see him shaking his head, brown eyes softly searching yours.
"She wasn't in my bed, honey," he murmurs quietly, "I promise."
The anxiety settles, and you believe him.
--
You cuddle together in bed for a while after your shower, not really talking but just basking in the feeling of being together again after such a shitshow of a weekend. You're warm and comfy in one of Joel's band t-shirts while he lays beside you, spooning you from behind and pressing soft kisses to the exposed part of your neck every so often, his bare legs tangled with yours beneath the sheets.
Part of you still wants answers, wants to learn more about his relationship with his ex, but another part of you doesn't feel ready yet, doesn't want to ask those questions or face those truths. Your mind is running a mile a minute as you lay there without saying anything, brow furrowed as you weigh the pros and cons in your head.
"D'you wanna talk about it, angel?" Joel finally asks, almost like he can sense exactly what you're feeling, his arms tightening around you. Your eyes close and you sigh deeply, squishing the side of your face into his pillow.
"Talk about what?" you mumble, but he's not buying it.
"I know you have questions," he murmurs, kissing the back of your neck again - grounding you, reminding you that it's okay to be yourself here, "There must be a thousand flyin' around that beautiful head o'yours. And I want you to ask 'em."
You sigh again, quieter this time. He squeezes you and reaches up to pull some of your hair back from your cheek and push it behind your ear, stroking it gently. He presses a small kiss there and noses the space beneath.
"You still feel safe with me, right?" he whispers.
At his words you immediately turn in his embrace, a look of shock forming on your face, "Of course I do," you breathe, "Joel, I've never felt safer with anyone than I do with you."
"Okay, okay, just checkin'," he smiles at you, eyes soft and sleepy, "You just seem... somewhere else. And I know why," his smile turns sad again, "And I hate that you're feelin' this way, darlin'. What can I do?"
You shake your head and reach your hand up to palm the side of his face, thumb stroking his cheek tenderly, "You... you can tell me where it is you're taking me this weekend." It's a cop-out and you both know it, but as usual he doesn't push it - you'll talk about your feelings in your own time.
He turns his head and kisses the palm of your hand gently, "Dallas," he murmurs, "Hotel room's booked."
Your eyebrows shoot up, "Dallas? But that's hours away, isn't it?"
"About three or so," he shrugs, "You ever been?"
"Couple times when I was a kid. Why Dallas?"
His arms tighten around you and he leans forward to lightly brush his nose against yours, "I told you, I wanna take you away. Not just twenty minutes or an hour; I want you to forget about all the shit you're dealin' with here for a little while," he kisses the tip of your nose gently, "What better place to do that than another city?"
The thought makes you smile. He's right; getting as far away from your parents as possible definitely sounds like a more than appealing opportunity. You've been to Dallas before but not since you were a kid, experiences that have pretty much clouded over at this point, what with all the restrictive rules you'd had to face.
"I feel bad..." you suddenly whisper.
His expression falters, "Why, baby?"
"'Cause what if I don't wanna leave the hotel room?" You smile slyly and his grin comes back in full force as he pulls you closer, presses loud kisses along the side of your face as you giggle.
"Who said anything about leavin' the hotel room?" he chuckles, then reaches over you to grab his phone from the night stand, "Plus..." he scrolls through it for a few seconds then turns it to face you, "There may be a more specific reason I chose Dallas."
You peer at his phone, see the image of a poster staring back at you: DALLAS GOSPEL MUSIC FESTIVAL. The dates correlate to this upcoming weekend. Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you turn back to his suddenly cocky expression - he's beyond proud of himself.
"Joel Miller," you gasp with a grin, slapping his arm playfully, "you're worse than me."
--
"So the whole thing just sounds really cool," you lie to your mother the following day, showing her the poster for the festival you'd printed out, "They're also doing group worship in the mornings and there's some other events happening between the shows, like bible trivia." Kill me now.
She raises an eyebrow, assessing it further, "It's an awfully long drive to Dallas on your own..."
"I like driving, it's peaceful."
"And aren't festivals known to have drugs?"
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, "It's gospel, Mom. I don't think anyone'll be handing out drugs. Plus," you point to the little anti-drug symbol in the corner of the poster, "it's not allowed, see?"
She still looks skeptical, bringing her gaze from the poster to your face, "But you've never wanted to go to something like this before. Why now?"
"I'm just-" you smile as earnestly as you can, "I'm really enjoying my lessons with Mr. Miller. I'd like to go see some professionals perform, get inspired, that kinda thing. I think it'll help me with my technique." Technique, sure. Not as if you've played his guitar more than once at this point.
She grimaces, "It seems an awfully big thing to keep from your father..."
And whose fault is that? "You could tell him I'm visiting another one of my friends?"
She nods slowly, thoughtfully, turning her head to look down at the poster again.
You hate this. You hate how much you're lying. You hate how much she's lying. But more than anything, you hate that you have to lie in the first place. You hate that you have to ask permission, as if you're not a grown adult woman with her own agency. None of this sneaking around and coming up with covers and excuses would even be necessary if your parents just allowed you to be yourself under their roof. The whole thing is so fucked.
"Promise you'll let me know when you get there, and text me every morning and night," she finally says, eyes meeting yours again, "And promise that you'll drive safely."
Relief floods through you, along with that all too familiar guilt, "I promise."
--
The rest of the week passes smoothly, albeit a little slow. Your mother gives your father some kind of excuse about this weekend that seems to appease him, something about a bible study group. You try not to think about how many stories you're weaving together at this point, all of them piling on top of each other and twisting and turning into even bigger and badder lies. It's truly becoming a giant mess, but all of that doesn't seem to matter whenever you think of Joel, of this weekend...
Communication with him is so different now - in the best way. No more short and brief responses, no more wondering what he's thinking or worrying he's no longer interested. You text every single day and talk on the phone in hushed whispers almost every night. You've noticed that he's able to call you earlier now, has stopped going to the bar after work with his crew, but you don't mention it to him. He hasn't been back since last weekend, something that makes you admittedly feel a bit of relief.
You text him on Wednesday afternoon from the parking lot of the grocery store - you've been helping your parents out a bit more now wherever you can, spending your days cleaning the house, doing chores, fulfilling to-do lists, etc. It's the least you can do for essentially stringing them along through the worst web of lies imaginable. This trip, however, you'd caught a glimpse of Bethany in the baking aisle and almost had a heart attack, rushing to the self checkout and scanning all your items before she'd gotten a chance to see you. You haven't spoken to her since the incident in the church bathroom and you don't intend to ever again if you can help it.
almost ran into bethany at the grocery store ahhh!!!! i hate this so much. just wanna leave already and forget about all these people :( miss you. hope your day's going better than mine 💕
You sigh to yourself as you pull out of the parking lot, but your sad demeanor is quickly replaced with a grin when you feel your phone vibrate in your lap. At a red light you look down at it, warmth flooding your cheeks.
Soon, angel. Two more days and it'll just be you and me. Can't wait to treat you the way you deserve. I know just the thing to make your day better, call me tonight x
That night he whispers filthy things in your ear while you finger yourself, face buried in your pillow, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Your face is hot and your lower half is bare against the sheets, sticky and soft. You're imagining how his cock will feel inside you, buried to the hilt, pulsing deep and wet and warm. The thought is almost too much to bear - you've been physically incapable of thinking of anything else lately.
"Wanna feel it in my stomach, Joel, just like you said," you whine into the pillow, tears stinging your eyes as your pleasure nears its peak. "Please, please."
"You will, babygirl," he gasps, voice low and shaky as he tugs at his cock and groans on the other line, "God you're such a good girl beggin' for it like that. Ask me again, honey, ask for my cock."
"Please, Joel," you try to keep your voice quiet but it's so hard, your fingers plunging in and out of yourself at the exact speed you wish he was fucking you, "Please, Mr. Miller. Please give me your cock."
He lets out another groan, "Oh god, baby, I'm so fuckin' close. Ask me for my cum, angel. Ask for it real pretty and polite."
His words send you over the edge as your hand stutters against your pussy and halts, your whole body trembling as you fall face forward onto the bed. Your skin ignites with even more heat as you shut your eyes tight and whisper, "Please gimme your cum, Joel. Want your cum."
You hear him inhale sharply and then exhale even louder, can almost see the white of his cum behind your lids, dripping all over his bare stomach. You can feel your own slick dripping down your inner thigh, staining your sheets. You wonder if your mom has noticed how often you've been changing your bedding lately, but part of you can't really bring yourself to care.
You try to imagine what it would be like for him to pump you full, for his release to leak out of you, what it would look like, feel like... The thought makes goosebumps rise all over your flesh, especially when you remember that he'd already asked if that's what you wanted. In the heat of the moment you'd said yes, and even now you find that you still do. You have been taking your little pill every day at the same time after all, a fact he's very much aware of.
You turn over in bed and snap a quick picture of your bare pussy, wet and used. It's the second time you've done it this week. You send it without saying anything and smile when you hear him groan again on the other line.
"Perfect little pussy," he whispers, and you can hear the pout in his expression.
"It's yours," you murmur sleepily, feeling yourself begin to drift as you bury your face in your pillow again, "It's all yours, Joel."
--
The only issue that inevitably pops up is the driving arrangement. To your parents knowledge you're traveling to Dallas alone, so leaving in your own car is a vital detail. You want to ride in Joel's truck though, but you're not sure it's feasible with the amount of eyes on you, the questions your parents will ask if your car stays in the driveway.
"That's easy to figure out, darlin'," Joel reassures you over the phone the next morning, "Lemme make a call to my brother, I'm pretty sure he's got a spot in a garage he ain't usin' right now."
You grimace at the thought of someone you don't know doing you a favor, "He won't mind?"
Joel snorts, "Tommy? Not at all, angel. Don't you worry."
You've only heard him talk about Tommy once, that day on his back deck when he'd told you about his upbringing. You'd been under the impression that they didn't have a very good relationship, what with being compared to each other their whole lives. Maybe you'd been wrong about it. You've certainly been wrong about a lot of things. You file it away as another question to ask once you finally work up the courage.
You have to admit, it feels really good to have someone take care of things like this, telling you not to worry, handling everything that's difficult. You've been carrying such a load of bullshit for your entire life and knowing that Joel's in charge this weekend just makes you feel safe. Protected. Cared for. You feel like you could ask him for anything and he'd somehow make it happen for you, something you've never really experienced before. Your parents have always been hesitant to spoil you despite their wealth, had rarely ever taken you on vacations that weren't undercut with the promise of learning or preaching. Your desires and needs have always taken a backseat to appearances, standards, bigger goals. You've never really felt you could ever relax with them, ask for things, be yourself.
It feels so fucking good to have Joel Miller.
Your parents have already left for the day when you climb into your car on Friday morning, tossing your travel bag in the backseat and switching on the ignition with a smile on your face. You and Joel have it all figured out - he'd talked to his brother and there's indeed a space for you to park your car in for the weekend. Joel surprised you even more by taking the day off, so you're meeting him at the garage in about an hour's time. Before then, though... you think another shopping trip is in order - for one specific item in particular.
--
The lingerie store doesn't seem as scary this time around. Last time you hadn't even been able to step foot inside, but this time you're more prepared, ready for the skimpy mannequins and uniquely shaped underwear. You're still not really exactly sure what you're looking for, but you don't panic this time when a salesclerk walks over to you with a smile and asks if she can help you. She's probably around your mom's age, something you're not sure makes you uncomfortable or not.
"Um, yeah," you say awkwardly, unable to make direct eye contact, "I was wondering if you have anything...um... like..." you try to find the words, heart beating a bit quicker in your chest, "Something cute? But sexy too, but, um, not too sexy, if that makes sense," you feel your cheeks warm as you babble, thinking of the spiked bras and crotchless panties you'd seen last time, "Just something not too crazy, something pretty but still... still sexy." God, how many times did you just say the word sexy?
The woman just smiles and nods without any ounce of judgement whatsoever, "I know just the thing, sweetie, follow me." Well, despite being around the same age, your mother would certainly never call you sweetie. She'd also never go lingerie shopping with you either; the very thought is laughable.
She leads you to a section full of floral themed sets, brightly colored and soft, lacy and delicate. Your eyes widen a bit at the selection, the options in shapes and sizes, colors and transparency, boy shorts and g strings. You have to admit that you could see yourself wearing pretty much anything here - it's right up your alley, and you're pretty sure it's Joel's preference as well.
"As you can see, we have a big range," the salesclerk says with another smile, "Some of them are more simple than others if that's what you're looking for," she picks up one of the sets, blue and frilly with little forget-me-nots embroidered over the nipples, "This one is very popular, and comfortable too, speaking from experience."
You nod, analyzing it carefully and trying your best not to picture the salesclerk wearing it, "Thanks, but I'll, uh, just have a look myself, if that's okay?"
"Of course!" she puts the set back down and tosses you one last smile, "Take your time, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything."
Being around your parents so much this summer has really messed with your psyche. You find it odd to encounter people like this, people your parents age, Joel's age, who clearly have no qualms about dressing sexually. It's almost the way you'd felt when you first got to college, the culture shock of taking ownership of your own body and doing what you want with it, not constantly wondering if you're going to go to hell for showing too much skin. It reminds you yet again of your own naivety, everything you've been missing up to this point.
But also... everything you're going to experience this weekend. That is why you're here, after all.
You end up picking out what you believe to be the prettiest set. It's white and transparent in certain places, edged in pink and covered in little embroidered flowers, purple and yellow and green. The bra has buttons in the center that you're not sure actually work or are just for show... though regardless, you imagine Joel slowly fingering them while you peer up from below on the hotel bed, a thought that makes your cheeks burn. The panties are cute and look easy to slip on and off but there's an odd third component, just as pretty with straps that lead to nothing. You furrow your brow, staring at it.
You could ask the salesclerk what it is but you really don't want to embarrass yourself. Instead you take a picture and send it in your group chat:
buying lingerie, what is this?? help!!
Of course, Tasha is the first to reply:
IT'S A GARTER BELT, BABE. HOLDS UP STOCKINGS IN A FUN SEXY WAY. SO BUY STOCKINGS. also that's cute as fuuuuck. ur gonna give the old man a heart attack
You stifle a laugh and shove your phone back in your pocket, picking up the entire set and walking to the cash. You grab a pair of sheer white stockings in your size and slip everything onto the counter, still avoiding eye contact as the salesclerk from before walks behind and starts ringing everything up.
"Find everything you were looking for, sweetie? Did you want to try any of this on before you purchase?"
You shake your head immediately, "No, that's okay." The thought of trying any of this stuff on in a public place is definitely still a little too much outside your comfort zone.
The clerk nods and turns the card reader to you with a smile, "That'll be a hundred and fifty eight dollars."
You're pretty sure you've never looked more shocked in your life.
why is being sexy so awkward and expensive?
welcome to my life sister
158 DOLLARS FOR 3 SCRAPS OF MATERIAL
that's it, let it all out
--
The garage Joel gave you the address for isn't too far from the mall, hidden down a few side streets where you feel confident your parents will never accidentally come across it. With a significantly emptier wallet, you pull into the parking lot and spot Joel's truck, smiling when you see him get out to wave you over. He's wearing one of your favorite flannels - green and black, similar to the one you keep under your mattress - and another band t-shirt underneath; you've lost track of how many he has at this point.
"There's my girl," he says as you pull up beside him with the window rolled down. He leans against your car, tips his head in to kiss you gently, "Find it okay? Directions were clear?"
You can't help but roll your eyes with a giggle, "I just typed it into the Maps app, Joel. Didn't need all the rights and lefts."
He chuckles, "Follow me, I'll show you where to park it."
You inch along behind him as he leads you into the relatively small parking garage and gestures to the right. There's an open spot between an RV trailer and a pick-up truck.
"Those are both Tommy's," he says with a sly smile, "So feel free to scratch 'em up if you want."
You roll your eyes again and carefully pull into the space, being sure to avoid any of the encouraged scratching. It's a comfortable fit and you grab your things from the backseat before climbing out to meet Joel behind your car.
"Hi," you say quietly, peering up at him with a soft smile, not caring that you already had your introduction a few minutes ago. All you can think about now is the time that stretches out in front of you, an entire weekend of just you and him.
"Hi, angel," he murmurs, and you feel his hands come up to squeeze your arms, pull you in close, "Ready to get outta here?" You nod excitedly and he gestures toward the garage entrance, "Then let's hit the road."
--
Three hours on the road passes much quicker than you thought it would. You remember road trips with your parents as a kid, traveling miles in random directions to witness supposed "miracles" or visit religious sites. Before he'd joined the police force your father had been a pretty prominent presence in church groups all throughout the southern states, and by proxy you and your mother had too. You can't really remember much of the experience other than having to constantly be on your best behavior, put on a perfect front no matter what. It was exhausting. Not to mention the only music you could listen to had to be pre-approved by your parents. You'd sit in the back seat with perfect posture, mouthing along to songs about God while you stared longingly at the kids in cars passing by, screaming songs that were forbidden to you at the top of their lungs.
You tell Joel about it. The first twenty minutes or so of the drive is spent unloading your past road trip experiences, something you genuinely hadn't planned on doing. But talking to him is just so easy. The words fall from your lips without any hesitance whatsoever, no fear that he'll ask why you put up with it, why you didn't stand up for yourself, those questions you'd been asked by people at college whenever you mentioned your upbringing. He listens attentively, reaches over and picks up your hand to place it on his thigh, squeezes it reassuringly.
"I'm just rambling now," you finally say with a shake of your head, "The point is, this is my first road trip without all those rules, you know? So it's just... I'm just really excited."
"I get it, honey. And I'm glad I can give you this experience," he turns to look at you with a crooked smile, "Among others." Your cheeks warm.
As usual, he commands the space he's in. He's so big and broad in the front seat, one large hand on the wheel while the other caresses your fingers, thumbs your palm. His forearms are thick and freckled, lined with veins and little nicks and cuts here and there from work. The grey in his scruff reflects light in the sun, sending little twinkles and glimmers into your periphery every so often. He's so perfect, sitting there beside you. So handsome. Yours.
"Which band is that?" you ask him, genuinely curious as your eyes trail down to his t-shirt. You can't help but assume that it's some kind of metal band, what with all the skulls.
"This?" he tugs at it, eyes falling to where you're looking, "Grateful Dead."
"Oh, cool."
He smiles sympathetically, "You have no idea who they are, do you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
He laughs and squeezes your hand again, then lets go to reach into the center console for his phone. You watch him unlock it and pull his face back to squint at it, eyes flicking back and forth between the screen and the road while he tries to access something.
"I can do it," you offer, and without any qualms he slips his phone into your hand with a smile.
"I- uh- I made a playlist," he says, turning his attention to the road again, "For the trip. There's some Grateful Dead on there, if you wanna hear it. You can add your own stuff to it too, don't want you thinkin' you can only listen to my shit."
You don't know why the concept of Joel making a playlist specifically for your trip is so fucking adorable, but it is. You can't help but smile as you open Spotify and spot it immediately - simply called Dallas. You scroll through it and pick the first Grateful Dead song you spot.
"Wait," you say, scrunching your eyebrows as soft guitar fills the truck, gentle and smooth, "This is Grateful Dead?"
He chuckles, "What were you expectin'?"
"Somebody screaming, maybe? Especially for a song called Friend of The Devil," you turn to him with a shake of your head, "God, you're telling me this is the kinda shit my parents forbid me from listening to? It's literally just some guy."
He laughs again, deep and genuine, "Half the shit parents forbid their kids from listenin' to ain't even that bad. I remember a couple years before my momma died, she told me she'd heard this new singer called Bruce Springsteen, absolutely loved him," he grins at the memory, "Meanwhile she'd thrown out all my Springsteen records when I was sixteen, said they were filth."
"Did you remind her?"
He shakes his head, "Nah, I let her believe he really was some new singer she'd discovered. Wouldn't have done any good to rub it in her face. We'd already made peace."
You think about that concept - peace. The very thought of ever having a peaceful relationship with your own parents feels foreign and downright impossible, a feeling that makes you ridiculously sad if you think about it too long. You don't want to entertain the idea of having to say goodbye to them completely at any point, for them to be out of your life entirely because they don't want you anymore. You're glad Joel was able to make peace with his mother, but after years? After his father had passed away? The thought is frightening.
"Now, Backstreet Boys," Joel continues with a wry smile, "that's a band you gotta watch out for. I had to stare at those faces every time I went in Sarah's room for years. Talk about trauma."
The discomfort fades almost immediately, a natural giggle bubbling past your lips at his words. You like hearing him mention his daughter so casually - you're finally in the loop, finally getting to see the real him, hear his unfiltered thoughts.
"Can I... can I ask you something about Sarah?"
His expression changes then, not into one of anger or guilt, but surprise. He nods immediately, reaches back over to take your hand in his, "Of course you can, angel. Anythin' you want."
"Um, how old is she?" You've already done the math in your head, but you want to be sure, want to hear it from him.
"She's thirty eight," he gives you a look, "Does that make you feel weird?"
You shake your head, "No, it doesn't." You mean it. You'd probably find it weirder if she was closer to your age, but thirty eight... a full grown woman, out of the house and living her own life for years. There's something different about that, something that doesn't bring you any discomfort.
"I just wanna say... I've... I've never been with anyone your age," he looks away again, like he's worried about seeing your face as he says it, "You're the youngest person I've been with, save for when I was that age myself." He grimaces, "I don't... I don't go around preyin' on young girls or anything, if you were worried about that. I know the first day we met might've made you think otherwise, but-"
You smile softly as he babbles, "I believe you, Joel. I mean... I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind. I was a bit worried about that this weekend, when I saw you and Sarah. I thought she was my age."
He laughs a little breathlessly, shaking his head, "Oh, she'd be very pleased to hear that, lemme tell you." He makes a face. "The thinkin' she's your age part, not the part about you thinkin' we were together. She probably wouldn't like that so much."
You giggle, "Yeah, probably not."
"But I do mean it, honey. I'm not that kinda man, or at least I never thought I was," he bites his lip, "You kinda turned my whole world upside down that day, if I'm bein' honest."
You don't really know what to say in response, but you feel pride swell in your chest at his words. You reach your other hand over and place it on top of where you're already entwined, peering up at him fondly, hoping he can sense what you're feeling. The song switches over to something else then, another guitar heavy tune. You recognize the melody immediately, your eyes going wide.
"Speaking of the first day we met," you say softly, hoping he'll recognize the significance - and he does. He peers at you with that beautifully tender expression he reserves only for you, grip tightening beneath your other hand.
"Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan."
"I knew it was Bob Dylan."
"Good ear. You play?"
"Um, not really."
The memory sends tingles down your spine. How was that only a few weeks ago? How have you gone from being the shy and bashful girl at the end of Joel Miller's walkway to the girl sitting in his truck holding his hand on a three hour road trip to another city? Talking about your life, his life, the things that matter? The girl with lingerie and birth control packed neatly in your travel bag?
"I'm still plannin' on teachin' you how to play this," he finally says, smirking, "Don't think you can get off easy just 'cause we're focusin' on the hymns."
You roll your eyes with a grin, "When you actually teach me a hymn, we'll talk."
--
It doesn't take long to realize that driving with Joel is very distracting. Not only is he so large and broad in the seat beside you, looking gorgeous and charming as he always does, but he also smells fucking delicious. Being in such close proximity to him in a small space, being able to smell his cologne mixed with the sheer scent of him, raw and masculine and sexy. It just reminds you of how it feels to be underneath him, overwhelmed by him entirely, feeling the rough edges of his body against yours.
You've had the windows rolled up since the first hour, turned on the AC once you'd gotten on the highway and let the cool air fill the truck. But now it's just circulating that fucking smell, thick and heady as you watch little droplets of sweat form on Joel's forehead, trickle down his temples. You feel a throb in your panties, a surge of release, and you clench your thighs together.
"You okay, babygirl?" he asks you softly, reaching over to place his big hand on your bare thigh - of course he'd noticed your change in demeanor immediately, "Need to stop somewhere and use the bathroom?"
His hand on your thigh just makes you clench tighter, makes you lean back lazily in your seat and let out a quiet whimper. You turn and look at him the exact moment his gaze reaches your face, reads it, tries to make sense of what you need.
"What is it?" he murmurs, hand slowly rubbing your skin, "What's got you makin' sounds like that, huh?"
You whimper again, already fully decided on what you want. Your hand goes down to grip his, move it upwards to the crotch of your shorts. His jaw slackens, eyes going dark.
"Need your pussy touched, baby?"
You nod, feeling heat flood your cheeks at his words. You watch as he assesses the road in front of him, the lane beside him. He chews the inside of his cheek and seems to settle on something internally. He keeps his eyes trained ahead while his hand fiddles with the zipper on your shorts.
"Unbutton those for me, pretty girl," he says, voice suddenly low, and you don't need telling twice. You practically tear your shorts open and allow him to reach his hand inside - it's so big and warm, hairy knuckles and callused fingertips slipping past the band of your underwear. Another pitiful sound falls from your lips as his index drops to your entrance and immediately slips inside.
"Joel," you whisper, tilting your head back and closing your eyes as he pushes knuckle deep inside you, filling you quickly and easily.
He doesn't say anything, just prods a second finger against your hole and slowly pushes it alongside the first. You take him so easy now; it doesn't burn the way it did those first few times, and it certainly helps that you're also soaking wet, practically dripping through your shorts.
"That's it," he murmurs softly beside you, other hand still on the wheel while he monitors the traffic around him, "That feel better, baby?"
"Y-yes," you breathe, looking down again to watch the lewd actions happening in your lap, watch the way his hand moves back and forth in your shorts as he pulls his fingers in and out of you.
"Just close your eyes and relax, angel," he tells you gently, "I'll take care of it."
You do as he says, letting yourself relax as best you can while he continues to slowly fuck you with his fingers. Another song starts playing, something low with a steady beat that he suddenly sets the pace to, speeding up as you open your legs a bit wider and moan softly. His thumb finds your clit and circles it, making you whine.
"Shhh, it's okay," your hear him say beside you, working his fingers, "It's alright, babygirl. Gonna give you what you need."
You moan again at the images that flood your brain, the thought of being underneath him in only a couple hours time, the feeling of his cock pushing inside, filling you up in just the way you've been aching for. You imagine his heavy breaths, hot and sticky against your skin. The smell of his cologne, his sweat. The coarseness of his pubic hair against your bare pussy. You writhe in the seat and tighten your thighs together, another whine slipping from your mouth.
"I got you," he murmurs, and he does. It doesn't take much else at all for you to climax, and he gets you there quickly with a few more circles of his thumb, the stiffness of his fingers, his name slipping past your lips as you come.
You lay loose and pliant in your seat for a moment, eyes still closed. He goes to remove his hand from your shorts but you stop him, reaching down to hold his wrist and keep his warm hand inside. He cups your pussy gently and just holds it, the palm of his hand sitting firmly atop your throbbing hole, rhythmically pulsing against his skin.
"Just keep it there," you whisper, chest heaving, "Please."
"Christ," he grunts under his breath, and you open your eyes to look at him, see the flush of his skin as he looks at you with desire in his eyes, "You were right, babygirl. I don't think we'll be leavin' that hotel room."
--
You like Joel's playlist a lot. After stopping into a gas station to clean up a bit, you sit in the passenger seat while he loads up on gas and scroll through it on your own phone, liking certain tracks that have stood out to you. His musical range is very broad; there's a lot of artists on it that you've never heard of, but you're not sure if that's just because of how sheltered you've been or because he's so much older than you. You choose to believe it's the latter - you hate thinking about how much you've missed out on. He'd said you could add some of your own songs but the thought makes you feel embarrassed; you haven't really had much time to form your own music taste, have spent your college experience so far just listening to whatever's popular since you couldn't when you were younger. You wouldn't even know what to add.
You scroll back up to the top of the playlist and tap Joel's profile out of curiosity, wondering if he has any other public playlists. You smile to yourself when you see titles like BBQ, 80s Tunes, Good Solos, Acoustic, Oldies, Angel.
Hold on...
Angel
You stare at it for a moment, thumb hovering over the icon but making no move to actually press it. You suddenly feel like you're invading his privacy somehow, like this isn't something he'd want you to see, not unless he said you could. With all the strength you can muster you hit the back button and return to the Dallas playlist, tapping a random song and locking your phone.
Joel gets back in the truck, oblivious to your discovery. "Gettin' closer, darlin'. You excited?"
You smile, warmth bursting in your chest, "Can't wait."
--
The conversation drifts here and there throughout the rest of the drive, both of you asking and answering questions back and forth about your lives, your pasts, your interests, your dislikes. You learn that Joel really likes music. You've known this, of course - it's not like it's some huge surprise - but hearing him talk about the artists he likes, the instruments, the melodies, the lyrics... you can hear the passion in his voice, the adoration for his favorites, the infatuation with certain lines and words. He loves music.
"Why aren't you a musician?" you ask him, genuinely curious, "Like, this really seems like something you should be doing professionally."
He chuckles at that, shakes his head, "Knowin' a lot about somethin' doesn't necessarily constitute a career in it," he shrugs, "I mean... I can't say I never thought about it. To be honest, when I was a teenager I did dream about performin' live, recordin' an album, all that jazz."
"So... why didn't you?"
He tilts his head with a half smile, "I think you're forgettin' the part where I became a dad right outta high school."
You wince, "Oh. Right."
He laughs, "S'okay. I mean, I still probably coulda done it. But there was a period there in those early years where I stopped playin' altogether, so it kinda just... slipped my mind."
You frown, "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."
He takes a breath, thoughtful for a moment as he tightens his grip on the wheel and squeezes your hand at the same time, like he's preparing himself - or preparing you.
"Well, uh... Sarah's mom, she left." Your lips part in surprise but you don't say anything, giving him a few seconds to collect his thoughts again before continuing, "She, uh, she had really bad post-partum depression, lasted a really long time. Of course, at the time, that kinda thing wasn't really talked about very much. And on top o' that we were both living with her parents since I'd been kicked out and we couldn't afford to go anywhere else. Even when we finally managed to move out they stayed in our business."
"And her parents... were they...?"
"They were strict, yeah," his jaw tenses, "They were... they were very hard on her, which made it worse. And she never wanted to be a mom, ya know? She was only seventeen when it happened and it completely uprooted all her plans. She'd wanted to get outta Texas, go to California or New York, get away from her parents and all the bullshit." He sighs, shaking his head slightly at the memory, "But livin' where we did, abortion was outta the question and her parents were our only option."
He's not looking at you but you can see the pain in his expression, the regret. A wave of sadness washes over you as you watch him talk about this particularly difficult part of his past, a part you'd been curious about ever since last weekend but had been too afraid to ask about. You're not really sure what to say.
"They made us get married," he makes a face, "And I mean, it's not like we weren't in love at that point, 'cause we were. She was my high school sweetheart and I loved her so much, I wanted it to work. But she was so unhappy. So distant. And when Sarah was born it was like she was gone. The Mish I knew just completely disappeared." He finally looks at you, expression apologetic, "That's her name - Mish. Well, Michelle, but she hates Michelle. God," he sighs exasperatedly, "I'm sorry, darlin', I shouldn't be ramblin' on about this."
You shake your head quickly, pulling your hand from his grip to lay it on top of his and squeeze, a comforting gesture, "No, Joel, don't apologize. Tell me. I wanna know."
He peers at you, hesitant, "You're sure?"
"Yes. I... I wanna know you, if you'll let me." You squeeze his hand again, reassuring him quietly.
So he tells you. He tells you about getting his first real job in construction, working the latest hours possible to earn as much as he could to get the three of them out of Mish's parents house and into their own. He tells you about Sarah being born, how he'd never felt as happy in his entire life as he did when he first held her in his arms, how she was a light in the darkness for him, lit up the room with her killer smile and big brown eyes. He tells you how he'd woken up one morning to a note from Mish, telling him that she couldn't do it anymore, that she had to get out before the situation swallowed her whole. He tells you about how his little brother Tommy, the one you'd thought he disliked, the golden boy, started skipping school to take care of Sarah when Joel couldn't - not because Joel asked him, but because he'd wanted to help.
"They say it takes a village," he says with a soft smile, "But for me, I had my brother and that was enough. It was like the past however many years of that godforsaken rivalry our parents pushed on us hadn't even happened."
"This coming from the person who asked me to scratch his truck an hour ago," you tease, and he just laughs, peering over at you with a genuine smile and tears shining in his eyes. There he is, the real him.
"Mish, she uh-" he clears his throat, "She came back, when Sarah was a little older, but then she disappeared again, same story. We found out later that she was dealin' with a whole lot more than post partum. I won't go into the details but once she got on the right meds, started therapy, she came back to us. Took a little while for things to settle - we tried on our relationship again, but we realized we just didn't fit, it was never gonna work." You squeeze his hand again. "She stayed in our lives though, became a good mom to Sarah, that's what mattered most."
"And you were just... you were just alone, through all of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean, I know you had Tommy, but... that must've been so hard." You can't even imagine dealing with all of that, find it difficult to comprehend the fact that Joel had become a father when he was younger than you, had to drop all his dreams and desires and start living entirely for someone else. "Didn't your parents ever try to reach out at all? Didn't they want to know Sarah?"
He sighs, eyes on the road, "My momma did, I know she did. But my father wouldn't let her, and she did as he said, no questions asked."
You can't help but picture your own parents, the way your mother bends over backwards to police herself around your father, the way she's taught you your entire life to do the same. The way she can't even talk to him about what's really going on - or at least what she thinks is going on - for fear of him winding up in control of the situation, making the decisions for her.
"I wonder if my mom would still wanna see me if she knew what I've been doing," you say aloud, unable to keep the thought to yourself. "Or if my dad would force her to shut me out."
Once again your hands swap places, Joel wrapping his fingers around your palm and gripping it tightly. But he doesn't say anything, doesn't give you any words of reassurance, and you know it's because he can't.
--
A soft kiss to your right cheek, then your left. Whiskered and warm. Your eyes flutter open and you see Joel leaning over the center console with a tender smile on his face, brown eyes peering down at you fondly.
"We're here, baby," he murmurs.
You blink a few times, confused. Only moments ago you'd been listening to music, chatting about your degree and answering Joel's questions about your other life, the one where your parents aren't in charge. He'd been so attentive, so interested in learning more about you. You vaguely remember a song coming on, slow and melodic, and then...
"I fell asleep?" you ask blearily, sitting up a bit.
"Out like a light," he says with a smile, "Had to skip all my heavy metal."
You roll your eyes and peer out the window, confused by the darkness beyond.
"We're in the parking garage at the hotel," he clarifies quickly, leaning back into his own seat, "Ready to check in?"
You nod and yawn, opening the passenger side door and stepping out to stretch your arms above your head. It feels good to be out of the small confines of Joel's truck, even though it was nice while it lasted. He follows suit and walks around the side to grab the luggage from the back.
"You brought your guitar?" you ask, watching as he picks up the long black carrying case and slips it over his shoulder.
"That I did," he replies with a wink, "Gotta get that lesson in, right?"
You feel heat bloom in your cheeks and avoid his flirtatious gaze, moving toward the truck bed to grab your bag. He gets to it first, picks up both his bag and yours and carries them easily in both hands, walking over to meet you on the other side of the truck.
"I can take mine," you offer, "That's a lot to carry."
He just chuckles and shakes his head, walking in front of you, "You ain't liftin' one single finger on this trip, sweetheart."
Walking from the darkness of the parking garage to the suddenly blaringly bright sun of Dallas is disconcerting at first, but certainly not unwelcome. Your eyes squint against the sunlight, focus on Joel's broad back as he walks in front of you with all the bags, guitar case swinging from his shoulder. God, he looks good carrying all that, big hands gripping the handles of the bags as he saunters ahead. That's yours, you remind yourself yet again, he's yours.
You're so distracted by how good he looks that you barely really take notice of the hotel until you're pushing past the doors into the main lobby, and that's when you freeze in place with your jaw practically on the floor.
What the fuck?
When Joel told you he'd booked a hotel, the only thing you'd really pictured in your mind was the room itself. You'd imagined a pretty sizeable room with a big bed, an ensuite bathroom and maybe a balcony if you were lucky. You've never really spent much time in a hotel before, especially nothing fancy or expensive. When you'd traveled with your parents you usually stayed with family friends or other parishioners; they hadn't wanted to expose you to too much luxury or wealth. It's hypocritical now when you think back on it, considering the large house your parents live in, the pool, the cars, the boat your father wants to buy. They'd had money to throw away on those things but couldn't splurge on a hotel room every once in a while? Couldn't treat you to something you really wanted?
Now you stand in an absolutely gorgeous main lobby, all marble floors and bright greenery, glints of gold and crystal and diamonds everywhere you turn. You suddenly feel like you've walked into a European country - how the fuck did you drive three hours from Austin and end up in a place like this?
Joel is stalling a few feet in front of you, that cocky smile in full view as he watches your reaction, "Ain't too shabby, huh?"
You're still staring with wide eyes at the sleek floors, the glittering fountains, the fucking bell-hops wearing those silly little outfits. You turn back to Joel with a shake of your head, mouth open.
You barely register the checking-in process, too mesmerized by your surroundings to pay attention. A bell-hop loads up your bags onto a luggage cart, the clerk hands Joel a key card, and you're still in complete awe of what you've just walked into as you follow Joel almost robotically to the elevator without speaking.
This is too much, you want to say.
How much did you spend? you want to ask.
The room itself is fucking beautiful, overlooking the hustle and bustle of the city below, a sight you already know will look gorgeous when the sun goes down and the buildings are lit up. The bed is huge, much bigger than you'd anticipated, with a giant flatscreen TV on the wall overtop a confusingly high-tech looking fireplace. There's a comfy looking couch and an ensuite to your right, and a fucking balcony, just like you'd hoped for. You stand in complete silence in the doorway for a solid minute until the bell-hop is gone and Joel has to nudge you forward a little to shut the door.
"Say somethin'," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling his face in your neck.
You shake your head again, eyes still wide, "I- I don't even know what to say."
"D'you like it?" his voice is muffled in the warmth of your neck, lips pressing a soft kiss there as his arms squeeze you gently, "Tell me what you're thinkin'."
You swallow around the lump in your throat, close your eyes through freshly stinging tears and lean back into his embrace. "I'm thinking that.... that I can't believe you did all this for me."
He kisses your neck again, slow and sweet, "Of course I did, angel. S'what you deserve."
You open your eyes and look down to see his big arms holding you tightly, feel the firm warmth of him at your back, smell that heady and delicious scent of his cologne. This isn't some dream you're having, some weird and sinful idea you came up with in your head; this is real. You're really here, standing in a beautiful hotel room with the most beautiful man you could ever imagine. You feel so safe.
And now you have an entire weekend to show him how much that means to you, a thought that sends a chill up your spine when your gaze rises back up to the bed. There it is. That's where it's going to happen.
"So... what's the plan?" you ask quietly.
He chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your ear before pulling back and spinning you around in his embrace, peering down at you with a soft expression. "Anythin' you want," he says with a smile, "You're in charge."
You can't help but feel yourself pout a bit, "What if I don't wanna be in charge?"
He leans down and brushes his nose against yours softly, "Well, then I'd say..." he's cut off by a sudden gurgling sound, and your eyes widen when you realize it's your stomach - you haven't eaten since this morning. He laughs lightly, pulling back to assess you fondly, "I'd say we better head down to the dining room and get some food in you."
You grimace, even though you know he's right. "Spoke too soon."
--
While you enjoyed the thrill of the hotel surprise, part of you wishes Joel had told you what kind of place this was so you could have packed accordingly. You definitely didn't pack anything super elegant or fancy, although you had packed all the dresses you'd bought a little while ago, the ones you'd tried on in his kitchen and haven't had an opportunity to wear since. You assess your options now, bag open on the couch, fingers trailing through the different fabrics. The little pink bag with your new lingerie still sits tucked into the side, and you wonder if you should wear it underneath whatever you choose to wear for dinner. As usual, you're not really sure how this kind of thing is supposed to work.
You settle on the pink one; you know from past experience that Joel's certainly a fan of that color on you. You take it into the bathroom along with the lingerie while he rummages through his own clothes, oblivious.
"Okay," you whisper to yourself as you stand in front of the mirror and tug off your t-shirt, then shorts. You stare at yourself in your underwear and bra for a few seconds, then carefully peel them from your body and reach inside the little pink bag. You'd already cut the tags off - no going back now.
The set fits perfectly, hugging your soft curves and the swells of your breasts, shaping your tummy and accentuating your thighs. You look good, as much as you feel odd admitting that to yourself. It's still been hard to look in the mirror lately and see what Joel sees, to not feel guilty for simply having a body. It gives you a similar feeling to how you'd felt in your bikini, though the lingerie leaves a lot less to the imagination with its transparent material and plunging panty line.
You tug on the dress and then the sheer white stockings, loving the way they stop at your thighs just under the dress and show off a small sliver of bare skin beneath the hem. You decide to leave the garter belt in the bathroom until later, tucking it into one of the cupboards underneath some towels. You peer at yourself in the mirror again, assessing yourself up and down and hoping Joel will like what he sees.
He does.
The second you come out of the bathroom you see him pause, looking up from where he's buttoning up a nice black dress shirt to gaze at you hungrily. His lips part, eyes going hooded as he walks over to you and firmly palms your lower back, pulls you close and trails his other hand up the side of your body.
"Christ," he breathes, almost a growl, "You're so fuckin' pretty."
Without any other words one of his hands suddenly reaches up your dress, grips tight to one of your thighs. You gasp, eyes widening as he thumbs the bare skin just beneath your panties, pulling back to peer down at you with a lustful expression.
"God, I could fuck you right now," he mutters, and the words send a squeak past your lips, a gush of wetness into your brand new panties, "Yeah, you want me to bend you over and fill you up? 'Cause you look positively sinful right now."
You whimper, tempted immediately by his words, at the thought of being bent over the edge of the bed and taken right there without any preparation. But you know that's not how you want this to go; if it was, you'd have already been fucked by him ages ago. And you know that he knows it too, that he wants the same things you want - to take it slow, to take your time, feel everything the way you want to feel it.
It doesn't mean you can't tease him, though. "Would you actually?" you ask softly, voice shaking a little bit in anticipation.
"God, yes, I would," he murmurs, "Just say the word and I will."
You bite your lip, almost genuinely considering it for a moment before your stomach suddenly growls again and you sigh exasperatedly.
He smiles, leans down to press his lips to your ear, "We have all weekend, remember?"
You shiver at the thought.
--
Dinner is beyond lovely, delicious dishes served on sparkling silver platters in a grand dining room, bottomless champagne which you surprise yourself by indulging in - about a glass and a half - and a live band performing some soft jazzy numbers on a stage nearby. It's so romantic, so dazzling and classy and like nothing you've ever experienced before. Your eyes flicker back and forth between everything periodically, like you can't really believe you're sitting here - but you are.
It feels so nice to sit in a public place with Joel, be surrounded by people who have no idea who you are and no concept of the secret nature of your relationship. It's just normal, easy, no need to be guarded or quiet or pretend you're something you're not. He smiles at you from across the table and you smile back easily without any pretenses, without that nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to be on your best behavior. You can just be yourself.
He's so handsome, dressed mostly in black with his greying curls gelled back a bit, deep chocolate eyes almost never leaving yours. He looks at you like you're the only person in the room, the only one he can see while you trade more stories about your lives, your favorite things, your dreams. You tell him you'd like to write a book one day, not exactly sure what about yet but how you're not sure you'd even have the confidence to actually publish it - he tells you with warmth and tenderness that he'd read anything you wrote, be the first one to buy a copy. He tells you how he's written songs but never played them to anybody before, but he'd play them for you if you wanted to hear them - you do.
Despite the pretty music, the twinkling lights, the cozy atmosphere and yummy food... you can't wait to get back to the hotel room. Your skin is buzzing with anticipation of what comes next, what you both know will happen as soon as you're back behind closed doors. The thought has been sitting there in the back of your mind all day, all week - for crying out loud, it's been there since the day you met him. It's nice to sit and eat and chat and pretend for a little bit like you didn't come on this vacation for a very specific reason, but that reason is becoming glaringly more apparent the longer you sit across from each other, stealing glances and soft touches. You need him. You need him right now.
Your eyes must go glassy, a faraway look in your expression, because a few moments after finishing your food Joel extends his arm to you and squeezes your hand, peers at you with darkening eyes.
"I know, babygirl," he murmurs, calloused fingertips caressing your skin, "Let's go."
--
As soon as the door shuts behind the both of you Joel's arms are immediately around you again, just like they'd been when you first stepped into the room after check-in. This time though, he presses his body firmly to yours, pushes his groin against your ass and reaches up to pull your hair back behind your ear, other hand flat against your stomach.
"I want you so bad," he whispers, and your whole body seems to convulse in his grasp in anticipation, "Been thinkin' about it all day."
"Me too," you whisper back, like it's a secret. "I'm ready, Joel."
He noses your ear, your neck, your shoulder. You feel him pull back the sleeve of your dress and press an open mouthed kiss to the skin there, slow and wet.
"I'm gonna take care of you," he murmurs softly, "I promise."
You lean back into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to press kisses all over your exposed skin, the rough prickles of his facial hair feeling sinful against your flesh. He grinds himself into you again and you whine.
"You're gonna feel it right here," he reminds you, rubbing your tummy gently and inhaling your perfume, "Right there, babygirl."
You whimper, legs buckling underneath you, "I want it, Joel, Want it now, please." Your thoughts are clouded by the smell of him, the feel of him, and it's only when you feel him start to unzip your dress in the back that you remember what you're wearing underneath.
"Wait," you say quickly, pulling away and turning around to face him, "Wait, just - just gimme one minute," he looks confused and you smile apologetically, "I have a surprise for you first." You reach forward and take his hands in yours, pull him toward the bed and gently nudge him onto the edge, "Just wait there, okay? I'll be right back."
You start backing up to go to the ensuite and can't help but appreciate the way he looks sitting there for a moment, leaning back on his hands while he gazes at you from the bed under his lashes. His legs are so long, belt buckle shining tantalizingly under the overhead light. You watch as he kicks his shoes off, smiling up at you.
"Don't go anywhere," you tell him, still backing up, "Stay right there."
He grins, "Ain't nowhere I'd rather be than right here, baby."
Your skin heats as you turn the doorknob and head into the bathroom, locking it behind you. You try not to think too much about what's about to happen, what you're going to do together the second you open that door again - the thought is so beyond overwhelming that you can already feel goosebumps rising all over your body.
The dress comes off easily and you place it with slightly trembling fingers onto the counter, reaching down to open up the cupboard and grab the garter you'd stowed away. You don't look at yourself in the mirror until it's securely in place, stockings hooked into it symmetrically albeit a little precariously, and when you finally do see yourself - bright eyed and warm, hair a little tousled, anticipation clear as day on your face - you can't help but grin.
You're about to lose your virginity. To Joel.
You take a few steadying breaths in the mirror, closing your eyes and giving yourself a moment to just quietly exist. You press your palms to the counter, inhaling and exhaling slowly, grounding yourself and working up the courage to go back into the room.
And then you hear it - a low buzzing sound, rattling against the solid tile of the bathroom countertop. You open your eyes in slight confusion, looking toward the sound; it's your phone, tucked against the wall, hidden behind the hand towel. Your brow furrows - has it been in here this whole time? You can't remember checking it at dinner, don't think you'd even unlocked it since before Joel woke you up from your nap in the truck.
You reach over and grab it, wondering who could be calling you - and that's when your heart plummets to your stomach.
6 messages. 4 missed calls. All from your mother.
Fuck.
Are you in Dallas yet?
Let me know when you arrive.
What hotel are you staying at?
Text me back now.
Where are you?
Answer the phone.
"Shit," you whisper, "Shit, shit, shit." You scramble to type out a response, erasing typos and re-typing over and over until you wind up with something that you hope makes sense:
sorry!!! i was so tired from the drive and passed out as soon as i got in my room. i'm still half asleep, i'll talk to you more tomorrow.
How the fuck could you forget to text her?! It was the one thing you'd promised her, the one thing you weren't lying about before you left, and it had still managed to completely slip your mind. You stare at the sent message, watching a whole minute go by until her typing bubble appears, slow and steady. Finally, her reply comes in:
I told your father about Mr. Miller. We'll discuss when you get home.
Well, that's definitely not the response you'd been expecting.
Your face scrunches in confusion as you read the message again; you're not sure how it correlates at all to your lack of communication, the breaking of your promise. You suppose she'd been so worried she'd had no choice but to tell your father the "real" reason you're in Dallas - the music festival, and by proxy the lessons with Joel that "inspired" the trip in the first place. That would make sense. It's not like she has any way of knowing that you're actually here with Joel, right? No, that's illogical. You've been careful.
Okay, you know what? Good. This is good. You've wanted him to know all along. One less secret to keep, right? It's a good thing.
So why does your heart suddenly feel like it's on the floor?
You read the message again, and then again.
It's fine. Don't worry about it, it's okay.
You look up from the phone and into the mirror, eyebrows going up when you see yourself. For a moment you'd forgotten where you were, what exactly you're doing in the bathroom of a hotel room in Dallas wearing nothing but lingerie. The stark contrast of the freedom you'd felt a few moments ago and the sudden anxiety you feel now is palpable, eyes going a bit blurry as you assess yourself in the mirror again. You suddenly feel slightly disconnected from the image itself, like the person you're looking at isn't you - it can't be you, can it? Is that you?
Water, you need water. You cup your hand in the sink and turn on the tap, collecting a small pool of liquid there before bringing it to your lips. The action reminds you that you'll need to take your birth control later, a thought that sends another pang of anxiety to your already discombobulated body. Why do you need to take birth control again? Oh yeah, because you're about five minutes away from losing your virginity. To Joel. Your ears begin to ring.
Your hands shake above the sink, water dripping downwards off your hands into the much too fancy basin below. What are you doing here? Who do you think you are? You really think this is okay? You really think everything you're doing, everything you've been doing, isn't going to have major consequences? Your vision blurs.
You shut off the water and shove your trembling hands into a dry towel, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror, avoid acknowledging the way you look all together. What the fuck is wrong with you? Who are you? What have you become? Lying to your parents, resisting everything they ever taught you, doing filthy things behind their back?
The sins you've acted upon are against God, you can practically hear your father spitting at you, the behavior you've exhibited will surely leave you with nothing but a one way ticket to Hell.
Your heart pounds in your chest, much faster than normal, much faster than you think it's ever beat. So fast that you briefly think you might be having a heart attack. You clutch at your chest and fall to the floor, attempting to catch your breath and utterly failing to do so, eyes wide and panicked as you practically fight for your life on the marble tile. What the fuck is happening? Not even five minutes ago you'd been totally fine, completely ready and willing and excited, and now you want nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
"J-Joel?" you gasp out, voice echoing against the walls; it's like you're calling out for emergency assistance, a last-ditch attempt at survival. He doesn't answer - you hadn't been loud enough. You take another gasping breath and call out a bit louder, "Joel?"
You hear his voice almost immediately on the other side of the door, "I'm here, baby. You okay?"
You shut your eyes tight, head leaning back against the wall as you pull your legs up to hug against your chest. How the fuck do you even answer a question like that? No, I'm not okay. I'm completely the opposite of okay.
"I c-can't breathe," you practically spit the words out, teeth beginning to chatter.
"Hey, hey, what's goin' on? Can I come in?"
You don't answer, can't answer. The knob jiggles and you silently curse yourself for locking it, "What is it, baby? What's wrong? Talk to me." You can hear the worry in his voice.
"I don't kn-know" you hiccup, hands coming up to cover your face, "I just... I just g-got really sc-scared all of a sudden."
"Oh sweetheart, that's okay." His voice is calm, soothing, reassuring. "That's alright, honey. It's okay to be scared, that's normal. That's okay."
"N-no it's not," you gasp out, hands still shaking, "I'm- I'm going to hell."
There's a beat of silence, then -
"I think you're havin' a panic attack, babygirl," you hate how muffled his voice is through the door, like he's ridiculously far away, "That's okay, I have those too. I have those all the time."
Your eyebrows go up in surprise, "Y-you do?"
"I do. And I can help you if you let me in, alright? We can get through it together, I promise."
"Y-you won't be m-mad at me?"
"Babygirl," he breathes, the tone of his voice doused in shock, "I'd never be mad at you for somethin' like that. Not now, not ever." Another knob jiggle, "Open up, sweetheart, lemme hold you."
The thought of being in his arms is the only thing that gets you off the floor, legs shaking like a baby deer as you lean against the wall for support and sidestep over to the bathroom door. With relentlessly shaky fingers you manage to unlock it, tugging it open just a little bit. He does the rest.
You barely get a look at his expression - full of concern and tenderness - before you're suddenly being scooped up into his big, warm arms. He lifts you off the floor like you weigh nothing while you bury your face in his shoulder, close your eyes and try your best to focus on the sound of his breathing, the smell of him, the way he feels. Your legs instinctively wrap around him almost like a koala as he carries you over to the couch, sits down while you cling to him in the safety of his lap.
He doesn't mention the fact that you're practically naked, doesn't ask about the lingerie or point out the little wet spot at the front of your panties where only a few minutes ago you'd started getting wet with anticipation. Instead he simply does exactly what he'd said - he holds you. He pulls you in close and rubs your back and squeezes you tightly while you try to calm your breathing, try to disconnect yourself from the panicked feelings.
"You're okay, angel" he whispers to you softly, and you just cling to him tighter, "You're safe, you're alright. Nothin' bad is gonna happen to you, honey."
Except going to hell, you want to say, but you find that your fear is already starting to ebb, being replaced with the feeling of Joel's wide palm against your back and his soothing words in your ear.
"We have all the time in the world to take this step," he murmurs softly, "I don't want you to feel any pressure, don't want you to think you have to do anything you don't wanna do."
You remember his words from the other day: Need you to know that you don't owe me anythin', not ever. But the frustrating thing is that this isn't something you feel you owe him, it's something you want to do - or at least had wanted to do, before you picked up the stupid fucking phone.
"I'm r-ruining everything," you manage to gasp out, tears still flowing relentlessly down your face, "I'm s-sorry."
"You're not ruinin' anything," he breathes, and you can hear the sincerity in the tone of his voice, "That is not the only reason we came here, sweet girl. We came here to be together, get away from everythin'." You feel him press a gentle kiss to your temple, "Now, tell me what's goin' on. What's got you so scared, baby? Talk to me."
You sniff, face still buried in the warm fabric of his shirt as you tell him about the messages, the response from your mom about telling your father, the way your heart had sunk when you fully registered what it would mean for them to really know what's going on. You realize you're getting tears and snot all over him but he doesn't seem to pay it any mind, continuing to rub your back soothingly.
"It's fine that he knows, or thinks he knows - whatever," you sniffle, "But the whole thing is just- it's just so fucked. If they knew what I was d-doing here, if they knew what I was wearing-"
"Shhh," he trails his fingers through your hair as you babble and you bury your face into his shoulder again, feeling beyond embarrassed. This is not how you'd seen this night going at all. "Shh, sweetheart, it's okay. Hey, look at me. Look at me, sweet girl."
Hesitantly, you pull your face from his shirt to peer at him from under watery lashes, his handsome face blurry through your tears. He reaches down and takes both your hands in his, squeezes them carefully.
"Follow my breathing, okay?" he tells you softly, voice barely a whisper. You watch as he closes his eyes and slowly inhales through his nose. You count about five seconds before he exhales through his mouth again, opening his eyes, "In and out, real slow like this."
It takes a few minutes to get into a good rhythm, to feel the breathing exercise really start to work, but eventually you start feeling calmer again, more yourself. As you breathe Joel continues to hold your hands in his, keeping you present, grounded. You open your eyes a few times, almost like you're making sure he's still there despite knowing you're in his lap, and each time you see his beautiful face - eyes closed over with his lashes fanning his cheeks, plump lips under greying scruff, the lines and wrinkles you want to kiss every single one of - you feel a wave of reassurance wash over you, a reminder that you're safe, you're not alone.
Once your heart has stopped beating a mile a minute, you wrap your arms around him again and nudge your head lazily into the crook of his shoulder, eyes closed as you hum softly in appreciation. He starts rubbing your back again, soft and slow.
"I don't believe in it anymore," you finally whisper quietly, "I don't. I haven't for a long time. But it's hard to remember that sometimes. It can just... it creeps up on me."
"I know," he murmurs, "I dealt with that for a while too, babygirl. It's a lot to reconcile, a lot to put in the past, I get it."
"I get scared when I think about them finding out about us," you admit softly, "Not because it'll change what we have, but because it'll change what I have with them." You bite your lip "You... you know that better than anybody."
He suddenly grimaces at your words, eyes going up to the ceiling for a few seconds before falling back to you, "I knew it," he grumbles, and your brows furrow in confusion, "I knew I shouldn't've talked about that shit with my parents today."
You shake your head immediately, "No, no, Joel, it has nothing to do with that. I wanted to know that stuff, I wanna know you."
"But it -"
"This is my own thing," you tell him softly, gaze meeting his, "This isn't because of you. You've been..." you smile through your tears, "You've been so amazing, Joel. You've helped me so much."
He brushes his nose against yours again, and with a soft sigh he murmurs, "You've helped me too, sweetheart. More than you realize."
"What d'you mean?"
You watch as he reaches beneath him to pull something out from his back pocket, adjusting you a little in his lap as he does so. He pulls out his wallet, small and brown, weathered around the edges - he's definitely had it for a while. Puzzled, your eyes fall to the tattered inside as he opens it, and you immediately spot something sitting in the compartment reserved for cash - something that catches the light, sparkles under your gaze.
"Is that my crucifix?" you ask quietly.
He nods, slipping his finger inside and pulling out the chain, the cross hanging from his fingertip. "This," he tells you, "has gotten me through two panic attacks of my own this week."
What?
He can tell you're at a bit of a loss for words, confused and surprised. With a small smile he wraps his hand around the crucifix, presses the cross into his palm, then brings it to his lips and presses a small kiss to the metal. The action doesn't make much sense to you, what with Joel being an Atheist and having never shown much interest at all in religion other than how it made you feel.
"But you don't believe in that stuff," you state, suddenly unsure.
He nods, letting his hand fall back down into his lap to touch yours, "I don't," he murmurs, "It's... it's a symbol more than anything." He takes your hand, the cross fitting directly into the center of your palm, "When I hold this, it reminds me of the beautiful girl who trusted me with it, the one sittin' so pretty and perfect in my lap right now."
You can't help but feel a bit embarrassed at his words, painfully aware of the tears drying on your puffy cheeks - you probably look a mess, but he doesn't seem to care.
"Makes me feel less alone," he tells you softly, and you swear you hear his voice hitch on the last word, "Keeps me safe."
You peer at him for a moment, processing his words. You don't really know what to say, beyond touched by the sentiment but still unsure how an object that caused you such pain and frustration could be a light in the darkness for him. How could it have a different meaning than the one it was intended for?
It's like he can sense your hesitance, your questions. He shifts you a bit in his lap, pulling you so close that his nose brushes gently against yours. "You should only believe in somethin' if it feels right," he whispers, "Only if it makes you feel like the luckiest person alive just to experience it, to be in its presence. And angel," he sighs softly, tilting forward so his forehead lightly nudges against yours, "if that ain't me about you."
"Joel," you whisper, fresh tears shining in your eyes. There's nothing else you can really say, nothing that feels right, other than the one thing you've been wanting to say since you arrived, something on the tip of your tongue begging to slip past your lips - but you don't. For now, you just think it, think it with all the warmth and adoration you feel blooming in your chest as you peer at him.
I love you.
You kiss him then, slow. His lips are soft and patient against yours, slightly hesitant, like he's holding himself back - and you suppose he is, considering the situation. He doesn't want to push, doesn't want to assume that what was meant to happen when you got back to the hotel room is still going to happen.
But you already know that it is.
You find that you can now notice the fact that your skin is bare, that he's touching you without anything being in the way, one hand cupped against the soft flesh of your hip while the other still squeezes your hand. It dawns on you that you're wearing the lingerie, the special surprise essentially ruined by your outburst. You frown against his lips.
"What is it?" he murmurs, pulling back to peer at your face, assess your expression.
"I...I bought this for you," you tell him softly, and you watch as his gaze falls to your scantily covered form, "Sorry I ruined the surprise."
His adam's apple bobs in his throat as his eyes trail up and down your body in slow, repetitive movements, like he's only just now fully noticed what you're wearing, taking in absolutely every inch of you - every little embroidered flower, every bare patch of skin. He releases your hand to carefully place both of his palms down on your thighs, the naked part between your panties and the stockings. You watch as he fingers the garter straps, eyes dark.
"Dressed up all pretty for me, huh?" he breathes, thumbs stroking your inner thighs as he brings his gaze back up to meet yours.
"I wanted it to be special," you whisper, "I wanted to wear it when you..." You trail off, mouth going a bit dry all of a sudden.
"Do you still want that, babygirl?" he asks you softly, "Do you still want me to?"
You don't even need to think about it, mull it over in your head or take another breath. You've never been more sure of anything in your life.
"Yes," you whisper, an edge of desperation in your voice, "Please." You kiss him again and he sighs deeply against your mouth, grip tightening on your thighs.
"Say it," he murmurs, teeth nipping lightly at your bottom lip, "Tell me what you want me to do, baby."
You shiver, "Want you to fuck me, Joel," your voice quakes with anticipation, hands balling in his shirt, "Please fuck me."
He doesn't need telling twice; at your words one of his big hands comes up cradle your back again, fingers digging into the soft skin there while his other slips from your thigh and curves around your ass, squeezes. He picks you up again, slips the crucifix into his pocket and stands there without moving as he peers at your face and holds you firmly against his body.
"Please," you whisper again, eyes locked with his as you whimper and buck your hips against him, feel the shape of his half-hard cock rub gently against where you're aching. He looks down without speaking, watches as you pathetically grind your hips, legs tightening around his waist.
"The sweetest girl," he says softly, leaning his face forward to kiss the corner of your mouth, "Already beggin' for my cock, huh?"
You mewl and grind your crotch against him again, already feeling the wetness returning to your panties in slow pulses. He just smiles and finally walks with you to the bed, tilts you downward and lays you out like you're a meal he's about to indulge in, swallow whole. And god, you want him to. Need him to. He pulls back to stand over you, hands going into his pockets as he peers down at you with lust in his eyes.
"Lemme just look at you, babygirl," he says quietly, eyes trailing to your breasts, your bare stomach, your exposed mound and soft thighs. He nudges you over a little bit and then sits on the side of the bed, hand reaching down to stroke one of your arms, slow and gentle, "You look so beautiful."
You lie there, staring up at his face with hooded eyes as you try not to squirm under his gaze. His hand moves from your arm to your shoulder, your shoulder to your collarbone, your collarbone to the space between your breasts. Just like you'd imagined when you'd bought it at the store, he deftly fingers the buttons there a few times, tracing them up and down.
"Pretty," he murmurs, and without warning he slowly slips his hand inside your bra, fingertips brushing your nipple. You whimper again, another surge of arousal dripping into your underwear.
"My sensitive girl," he whispers, brushing it again and smiling when your hips buck, "Are you wet, baby?"
You nod quickly, expression hazy, "Yes."
"How wet?"
Your thighs rub together almost unconsciously, another pathetic sound slipping past your lips, "Really wet, Joel."
He chuckles softly at your impatience, releases your breast and leans down to press a slow and wet kiss to your neck. You moan softly, eyes fluttering closed as his lips trail gently up and down the expanse of your neck, your chest. You feel his hands curve up underneath your back, busying themselves with the latches of your lingerie.
"As much as I could look at you wearin' this for hours," he whispers, "I think theres somethin' under there that deserves my attention." He slips the bra off easily, tugs the straps down your arms and exposes your bare breasts to him, nipples peaked and hard. He immediately captures one in his mouth and starts to suckle gently, hand traveling downward to rest teasingly on your inner thigh.
Fuck, it feels so good. Your eyes roll behind your lids, mouth popping open as you sigh in contentment and just let him play with you. He sucks and licks, nips lightly every so often, travels between both breasts like they were made specifically for him to have in his mouth. Your pussy pulses somewhere below, feeling beyond ignored, and you rub your thighs together again to try to ease some of the pressure. He notices and his hand inches upward to cup you through the material, eliciting a gasp from you.
He pulls off your nipple and you open your eyes to see him peering up at you, eyes almost black, a smirk on his face, "Need your pussy touched again, don't you baby?" You nod, lips turning downwards into a pout, "Okay, sweet girl. I won't tease you too much."
You're very much aware of the fact that Joel is still fully clothed, a fact that you have to admit turns you on a lot more than it probably should. You watch as he crawls on top of you carefully, hooks his legs around you and slowly eases downward, eyes staying locked with yours as he starts kissing his way down your stomach. Your heart rate quickens again, but this time you welcome it.
His fingers play with the straps of your garter as he presses soft kisses to the tops of your thighs, the dips of your waist. You shiver when he presses gentle kisses to your mound, fingers slipping inside the band of your lingerie and carefully tugging it down to expose your pussy to him, wet and aching. He pulls back to look at it, expression one of pure lust as he thumbs one of your lips and pushes it open.
"There she is," he murmurs, "The sweetest little pussy."
"Joel," you moan, closing your eyes and focusing entirely on the way he thumbs your outer lip, caresses it softly like it's something precious and fragile. He dips his thumb further inside and brushes against your folds, sending another thick and syrupy drop of release onto his fingers.
"Look at her pulse, baby," he says, voice husky and dark, "Droolin' for me."
You open your eyes again, watch him lean down and lick a stripe through your dripping folds, collecting the juices on his tongue. You whimper when he swallows and leans in to press a whiskery kiss to your clit, already puffy and twitching.
"She's cryin' for my cock, honey," he breathes, "Been waitin' so long, been so patient."
"Please," you whisper, and his gaze meets yours again, "Please put it in." The words are filthy and full of desperation, your brow furrowing in pleasure as his thumb slowly begins to circle your clit, "I need it."
"I know, sweet girl," he whispers, "But you gotta wait just a little bit longer, gotta let me taste this perfect little cunt first," he presses kisses along your folds, kitten licks past them a bit to slip the tip of his tongue just barely inside your hole. You whine, hand coming down to touch his hair while the other grabs one of your breasts and begins to toy with your nipple, as if on instinct.
He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, hands coming up to grip your waist and hold you still as he starts to eat you out. Just like the first time, it's beyond overwhelming, your eyes shutting tight and your teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip as his mouth does sinful things to the most intimate part of you. He plunges his tongue inside and buries the curve of his nose in your clit, rubbing it up and down, back and forth, while you whine and whimper above him. Your fingers tangle in his hair and holds his face firm between your legs while he tastes and devours.
"Joel," you keep whimpering, unable to stop from saying his name every chance you get, a reminder to yourself that you're really here with him right now, that he's the one making you feel this way. He barely pulls up for breath, scruff glistening with your release as he pleasures you relentlessly, arm coming up to splay across your belly and push you down into the mattress, holding you firm.
He makes you come easily, but that's no surprise. Just like in the truck earlier, you cry out and toss your head back, body shaking through your orgasm as he sucks on your clit and slips one of his fingers easily inside of you, curves it and makes your body rise up off the bed in pleasure as you shiver and squirm.
"Good girl," he tells you softly when he releases your clit from his mouth, looks up at you with dark lips and messy hair, "That's my good girl."
Only for you Joel, you want to whisper, but you're too blissed out to speak, Only wanna be a good girl for you.
You feel him press soothing kisses around your pussy, finger still slowly pumping in and out as you calm your breathing. He pulls it out and brings it to his lips, sucks it with a deep groan, "God, you taste so good," he murmurs, resting his head for a moment on your thigh and inhaling deeply, "So fuckin' sweet, babygirl."
You remember the first time he'd tasted you, remember how you'd come so hard you'd seen stars, remember how he'd come in his pants. The thought makes you sit up on your hands, look down at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Did you come?" you ask, slightly worried for a moment.
He laughs, pulls his head up and begins to crawl back to you with a smile on his face, "No, not this time. That was a moment of weakness." He cups your face and and looks down at you with a soft expression, "You wanna taste yourself?"
Without any hesitation, you nod. Joel leans down and presses his lips to yours, eases his tongue inside and lets you indulge in your own release, your own special flavor. You've never really tasted anything like it before, unsure how exactly to describe it - you're not sure you'd really call it sweet, but it's not bad by any means, just... different.
"Good?" he asks.
You shrug, "It's... interesting."
He chuckles, pulling his face back, "How're you feelin'? You wanna stop?" You look up at him like he's crazy and he laughs again, putting his hands up, "Okay, okay, just askin'."
"I want-" you cut yourself off, feeling blood rush to your cheeks, and he peers down at you softly.
"What d'you want, babygirl?" he murmurs, "I'll give it to you."
You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, finger the buttons there, "I want this off," you breathe, "Want all of it off."
He nods slowly, eyes hooded as his eyes fall to your wet lips, "Okay, what else?"
"Want you to fuck me," you whisper again, as if he doesn't already know. Your hand reaches downward to carefully cup the long shape of him through his pants with trembling fingers, "Want it inside."
He reaches down, covers your hand with his and squeezes softly, "You want what inside, baby? Words."
"Your cock," you whisper, edged with a whine, "Want your cock inside me, Joel. Please. No more teasing."
He smiles softly, "Okay, baby. No more teasin'."
Watching him undress sends tingles all throughout your body, lips parting as he undoes the buttons of his shirt and tosses it to the floor, reaches for his belt buckle and slowly starts to unfurl it. He keeps his eyes on your face, watches your expression as you bite your lip and assess the way his cock juts out underneath his pants, begging to be taken out and touched, played with. The thought makes you sit up on the bed, lean toward the edge and dig a few of your fingers into his waistband, pulling him closer.
He watches as you slowly move forward to mouth his cock through his pants, lips parting and stretching around the big shape. You sigh in contentment at the feeling of it pulsing through the material against your tongue, drag your mouth up and down a few times as a whimper gurgles in your throat.
"Thought you said no more teasin'," he murmurs, and you feel his hand come to rest at the back of your head, helping you move. You moan softly around his length and you can practically hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Just need it so bad, don't you?"
You do. You can't count the number of days you've thought about it now, thought about it against your face, your thighs, your pussy. You want it everywhere - you want him everywhere. You've waited so long and you're tired of being patient, of waiting for the right time, the right moment. It's here, it's now, and you're ready.
"Please," you breathe again, pulling your mouth off his clothed cock and looking up at him with wide, almost tear-filled eyes, "Please fuck me, Mr. Miller."
His eyes go dark and the smile fades from his lips, hands coming down to unzip and unbutton quickly as you lay back on the bed and open your legs. It takes no time at all for him to be completely naked, pants and underwear thrown haphazardly off to the side while he crawls back on top of you and starts kissing your neck again, skin rough and warm. Your hands come up to grip his bare back, eyes closing as you let him silently worship you, kiss every inch of skin he can reach.
You can feel the heavy length of him on your thigh, settled there as it pulses and leaks. It's so big, so thick, and you can't help but reach down and engulf it in your small fist, fingers still unable to go all the way around. He groans into your skin, pulls back to look at you again.
"D'you want me to use a condom, babygirl?" he asks, even though he knows the answer - he wants to hear you say it, which you appreciate.
"No," you whisper, "Please don't."
He groans again at your words, reaches his hand down and easily slips two of his fingers inside of you without any resistance. You're so ready, have never felt more ready for anything in your entire life. You know you should be reveling in the moment, taking time to enjoy and appreciate - but at the same time you just want him inside of you already, want to be connected to him in the rawest of ways, complete. You can't wait anymore, you can't. He starts to add his third finger and you whine, wishing it was something else.
"Gotta open you up a little more, sweetheart," he tells you quietly, filling you with all three fingers and slowly starting to pump them in and out, "Want this to feel good for you, don't wanna hurt you."
"I want your cock, Joel," you mewl, tears welling in your eyes.
"Shhh," he kisses you gently, fucks you slow, "I know, baby, I know. Just a minute now, sweetheart. Be patient for me."
"Don't wanna be patient," you're starting to sound like a bit of a brat but you really don't care, the desperate and touch-starved part of you just aching to be filled up, held close, fucked deep. "Wanna feel you in my stomach, please."
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, almost a groan as he pulls his fingers from you and drags them against his cock, taking it from you carefully and then pumping himself twice with your release, "Okay, babygirl, I hear you, I got you."
Joel eases himself downwards carefully, hovering over you like he had last weekend. He kisses you again, soft and safe, a quiet reminder that what's about to happen means more than what it seems like on paper, means more than either of you could even articulate. He peers into your eyes tenderly, reaches up to push some stray hairs out of your face.
"I'm gonna go real slow," he tells you, "You tell me the second somethin' doesn't feel right, okay? Promise me."
"I promise," you whisper, hands splaying across his back and pulling him down further so your breasts are pushing softly against the hair on his chest, impossibly close. You just wanna feel him, feel all of him.
When he says slow - he means slow.
You'd felt the tip of him last weekend, were already anticipating the burn and stretch, but this time there's not the same desperation, the same time limit or rush. Now you have all the time in the world, the clarity to take it as slowly as you need to in order to really feel everything, make it count. You feel the shape of his wide head carefully nudge the tiniest bit into your throbbing heat, and your eyes immediately go wide.
"You're okay," he reminds you softly, just like he had last time, "You're alright, angel."
Your nails dig into his back and you nod, peering up at him with a look that you hope says, I know, and I trust you, because you do. He kisses you gently and you feel his hand at your thigh, pushing you open a little wider for easier access. The garter strap strains against your legs but neither of you make any move to remove it.
He pushes inside a little further, his whole tip crowding the space at your entrance once again. You make an odd sound, something that comes from the back of your throat, and he freezes.
"Okay?" he asks, and you frantically nod. "That's the tip of me, baby. You got it, you're doin' so good."
"More," you whisper, voice breaking, "More, please."
He reaches his hand back up and locks it into place on the headboard above you, holds himself up as his knees dig into the plush cotton of the duvet. With his other hand he slowly eases more of his cock inside, just a little bit.
"Fuck," you hiss, and you can feel it now - the burn, the stretch. It's not painful by any means, but it's not comfortable either. You make a face and Joel stills, brow furrowing.
"Hurts?" he asks softly.
"N-not really," you breathe, "It's just - it's really thick."
He kisses you again, noses the side of your face and inhales deeply, "You tell me when to move," he murmurs, "You're in control from this point forward, babygirl. What you say goes."
You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed as you hold Joel to you and revel in the way he peppers tiny little kisses all over your face, your nose, your eyelids. Now it's his turn to be patient, and he's certainly much better at it than you are.
"Okay," you breathe after a moment, "Okay, you can move."
He inches in another little bit and your hips stutter, hands trembling against his back. You don't say anything, just grip him tighter and bite down on your lip - more stretch, more burn. But there's something about it, something about the odd sensation of being spread open, that has your pussy suddenly throbbing - and you whine.
"Tell me to pull out and I will," he murmurs in your ear, "We can spend some more time-"
"No," you whimper, shaking your head, "No, Joel. It feels good." You grip tighter to him and tangle your ankles with his, wanting to be even closer than you already are, "Keep going, please."
It goes like that for a while - a continuous push, inch by inch, a whine or whimper, a check-in from Joel, reassurance that you're alright, then the cycle starts again. You quickly grow accustomed to his girth, the stretch getting significantly less and less the longer he stays pressed inside of you. You're painfully aware that this probably isn't the sexiest experience for him, that he'd probably much prefer being able to go deep and stay deep and pound you senseless - and as much as that thought also appeals to you, you know there's no way your body could handle it on the first go.
"M'sorry," you mumble to him quietly during another moment of adjustment, both of you laying still while a little more than half his cock sits patiently inside of you.
"For what?" his eyes scrunch, confusion clear on his face.
"F-for taking forever to get used to it," you admit apologetically, eyes going downcast, "Especially after I begged so many times."
He shakes his head, eyes narrowing, "Do not apologize for somethin' like that, sweetheart. This is about you, not me."
"But I'm-" you take a breath, forcing yourself to be honest, to not keep your worries inside no matter what, especially in such an intimate moment like this, "I'm scared you're not enjoying yourself."
His eyes widen, "Not enjoyin' myself?" He almost laughs, light and soft, "Sweetheart, do you have any idea how fuckin' good you feel?" You shake your head and he leans down to kiss you, moans softly against your lips, "Your pussy's so tight around me, sweet girl" he whispers, "She's pulsin' around my cock, it feels fuckin' incredible."
Your thighs tighten a bit against his waist, center throbbing once again at his words. He groans, and it finally sets in that every throb you feel, every pulsation, every twitch, he can feel it too. Because he's inside of you.
"You're inside me," you whisper, and it sounds like such a dumb revelation but you don't care, lip trembling a little bit as your fingers stroke gently against his back.
"I'm inside you," he echoes, voice soft and reassuring, "M'not goin' anywhere, baby. Gonna take it as slow as you need me to."
He's so gentle, so tender, it makes you want to cry. How did you get so lucky to be having your first time with someone like this? Someone who genuinely wants you to feel good, feel taken care of? Someone who feels beyond amazing? His cock is so big, so perfect; he feeds it to you over the next few minutes, makes you whine and cry out in the dim light of the hotel room, legs trembling and hands coming up to cover your eyes as he finally bottoms out, finally eases himself completely inside of you - and stills.
Full. You're so full. It's the only word that seems to cross your mind, any and all other vocabulary going completely out the window the longer you lay there with his cock buried deep inside. He carefully pulls your hands back from your face and kisses you again and again, murmuring praise.
"You're doin' so good, angel," he whispers, "Takin' it so well, such a good girl."
It's not that filthy of a thing to say, but his words do something to you then that you can't really explain. Odd sounds escape your throat, slip past your lips pathetically as you squirm a bit beneath him. Your eyes shut tight, heart beating fast, not a thought in your brain other than the fact that there's a huge appendage lodged so deep inside of you that you can't even think, can't speak.
"I know," he's whispering, carding his fingers through your hair, "I know, baby. That cock is so big, I know, I know," he kisses your temple, holds you close, "So big inside that little pussy."
"Joel," is all you manage to whimper out, toes curling in pleasure, "Joel."
"I know," he murmurs again, and you swear he pushes his hips forward just a little bit more, the heavy shape of his balls pressing firmly against your ass, "I'm in your tummy, baby, just like you wanted."
At his words your shaky hand travels downward to feel your stomach, press your palm against the skin there, and your eyes snap open when you realize you can feel him there - near the bottom of your tummy, feel the long and thick shape of him bulging out from beneath.
"Fuck," you breathe, and his eyes meet yours, dark and hungry, "Fuck, I f-feel it."
His hand comes down and covers yours, helps you move the garter belt out of the way to shape your fingers around the long shape of him. You can feel the fat head pulsing deep within you, pushing against something you didn't even know was there, every throb sending constant gushes of release around his cock. You must be a mess down there, slick dripping down your thighs as you whine again and reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair.
"Ohmygod," the words are almost slurred, garbled, and you're realizing very quickly that talking with a cock inside of you is very difficult. Your thighs squeeze together again and Joel groans.
"God, you feel so fuckin' incredible," his expression is wrecked, plump lips parted as he inhales and exhales, "You're chokin' my cock, honey."
You can't wrap your mind around the fact that this isn't it, that simply having his cock buried deep inside you isn't the actual sex itself. Because how can just this feel so good? How can you feel so close, so full, so wonderful, all from just this?
Joel leans down and buries his face in the pillow, nudges his nose to your ear and whispers, "D'you want me to move, babygirl?" to which you immediately respond, "Yes."
At your okay he slowly eases himself out of you, the sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before as inch by inch he leaves your body until just the head sits heavy and waiting at your entrance. He looks down at you, thumbs your cheek, and murmurs, "Who's my good girl?"
You shiver, moan softly, eyes closing again, "I am," you whisper.
Just as slow, he pushes himself back inside, and you cry out and bury your face into his neck, legs shaking.
"Who is?" he asks you again, burying himself to the hilt and stroking up and down your naked body gently with one hand, "Who's my good girl? Tell me again, angel."
"I am," you repeat, a bit louder this time and drenched in pleasure as he slowly pulls out again, leaving you almost empty. "Joel," you whisper, and he pulls his face back to look at you, nipping at your bottom lip and pouting at your already fucked-out expression, "Joel, it feels so good."
"I know, baby," he murmurs, then eases himself back in, brings your hands down to your stomach again to feel the way his cock protrudes lewdly against the skin, "You're takin' it so well."
"I-I've-" you whimper, tears overflowing, "I've n-never-"
I've never felt like this before, you want to say. I've never felt so close to another human in my life. I've never wanted to live in a moment more than I want to live in this one.
Instead, he just brings a finger to your lips, eases himself out again and murmurs, "I know," like it's a mantra, "I know."
You feel him thumb your clit and you can't believe that anything could feel this good, that anything could even compare to the way it feels to have Joel everywhere like this, so deep inside and above and all around, his scent lingering in every move he makes, his hair pressing firm to the softest parts of your body. He's so warm, so safe, and more than anything all you can think about is that thought from before, the one you know now to be absolute - I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
He keeps the pace slow, doesn't let go of you or pull away even once. You already know you're not gonna last, not with his thumb rubbing you like that and his cock so unrelenting and huge inside of you, filling you up in a way you never thought possible. You're pretty sure that you've only got one more orgasm left in you tonight but you don't feel worried or stressed out by that fact - you have a whole weekend for more of this, to explore and experience and enjoy.
"I'm gonna come, Joel," you breathe, and you can feel tears stinging your eyes as you say the words, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come."
"Okay, baby, that's it," he encourages you softly, thumb unrelenting against your clit, "Lemme feel you come, angel. Let it out for me. Give it to me, sweetheart." And you do.
Coming around his cock feels fucking incredible. Your pussy tightens and throbs, releases more slick than you could even imagine, and you feel yourself start to cry, tears flowing down your face as a sob wracks from your throat as you pull him down on top of you. He fucks you through it, groaning in your ear at the way you continue to choke his cock, tight and firm.
"Fuck," he groans, "Fuck, angel, I don't think I can last."
"Then don't," you cry into his ear, eyes shut tight as your body convulses, "Don't wait, Joel. Want you to come inside me, want it so bad."
He makes an unhinged noise, his thrusts becoming a little faster, a little more erratic. Without warning you kick your legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer and letting out another loud moan when you both hear the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. He's so deep. So, so, so deep. Just like he said he'd be.
"Fuck," he mumbles in your ear, "Fuck, I'm comin', honey, I'm comin'." At his words you feel the massive length of him pulse deep inside, your walls constricting around the intrusive shape as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth opening in a silent gasp of pleasure as you feel the warm spurts of his come begin to coat your walls, filling you up.
"Joel," you breathe, and you're pretty sure your nails have broken the skin of his back but he doesn't seem to care - if anything it makes him groan even louder, makes him pull back to look at you and make direct eye contact as he empties himself. You stare at each other, eyes wide, lips parted, and he leans forward to press his forehead to yours as his jaw clenches.
The moment he's finished coming he falls on top of you with his entire body weight, something you welcome instantly. Your hands roam up and down his back, feel the crescent moon shapes lining his skin as you close your eyes and let the reality of what's just happened wash over you, settle into your very being. It's only when you shift a little underneath him that Joel finally pulls himself up to look at you. He's so beautiful, hair a mess, lips red and raw, cheeks flushed, and tears shining in his soft brown eyes. He nuzzles his nose against yours and breathes a long sigh, one of satisfaction and contentment.
"Stay inside me," you whisper. You don't know why it's the first thing you say, but somehow it feels like the most important. Because the idea of him separating from you now after what you've just shared, the idea of not being within his embrace or feeling as connected as you feel right now - it sounds like the worst thing in the world.
"Okay, angel," he murmurs, eyes sleepy, "M'not goin' anywhere."
You close your eyes, breathe him in.
I love you.
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