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sturniolohouse · 8 months ago

Text

That's Life - M.S

A.N: After the stream where Matt said he liked the name June– which has been a name on my baby list for YEARS now – I couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, so I decided to write it. Sorry if it's bad. (I'd also say they are still very young in this, maybe 23/24. But imagine any age you want, I don't really specify.) Hope you enjoy!

summary: dad!matt - a cute snippet of Matt and y/n becoming brand new parents and Chris and Nick meeting their niece for the first time. mainly fluff :')

warnings: none, really. maybe swearing and mentions of blood? (also use of y/n because apparently that is hated? idk)

word count: 2.4k

"Kid, hold her fucking neck." Matt panics as Chris readjusts in his seat on the couch.

"Matt shut the fuck up, I think I know how to hold my own niece." he retorts.

"No, you clearly don't you idiot."

I peer to my left, he holds her with one hand under her head and one hand under her butt, propping her in front of him on his lap. She's perfectly fine, Matt just worries.

"Look she's fine. She's with uncle Chris." Chris looks at her adoringly but Matt cautiously watches, biting his nails.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asks beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I eat my burger. I was starving and the first thing I wanted after giving birth was In and Out, so Matt made sure Nick and Chris brought it for me.

"I'm so tired but just relieved everything went okay."

It was a long labor, almost 20 hours and about an hour of pushing. I waited to the very last minute to get an epidural and Matt almost passed out once he saw what it actually was.

"That goes in your fucking spine?" He squeaks, his face turning pale as he nearly keels over.

I'm sat up with the anesthesiologist behind me prepping the needle. I grab Matt's forearms and bring him to stand between my legs so he's hunching in front of me before I collapse my head into his chest and groan.

"Don't fucking look at it, hold my hands." I seethe through the pain as I wait for the contraction to pass.

"I'm so sorry," He says into my ear as they stick the catheter into my spine and I stay as still as possible.

"I want In and Out after this is all over," I breath out, beginning to feel my lower half go numb.

"I'm getting you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart." He looks me dead in the eyes.

"It's kinda fucking nuts that she was just inside you, how the fuck did you like..." Chris speaks up looking between the baby and me. "Push her out..." He hesitates and I burst out laughing as Matt throws his arms up and shakes his head at him, stopping himself from knocking Chris' shoulder.

"Well, it wasn't easy." I wipe my tears from my eyes due to my laughter and Nick gives me my water so I don't choke on my dry ass fries.

"Women are the strongest people on the planet." Nick chimes and Matt smiles proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's fucking right. So much respect after all I witnessed." Matt rubs his eyes, seeming to be mentally reflecting the past 36 hours.

"She's so fucking cute, looks nothing like Matt." Chris comments, a small smirk growing on his face at the playful jab.

"Okay, give her back you're pissing me off." Matt quickly but gently takes her back even as Chris protests and pouts, sulking back into his chair.

"Lost your baby holding privileges," Nick points at him as Chris makes a face and sticks his tongue out, a throaty bellow echoing in the hospital room.

Nick immediately hushes him. "Can you not act like a barbarian? Fucking idiot." He scolds him.

Matt cradles her softly and my heart still melts at the sight of him holding her. It makes everything I went through so worth it. The both of them do.

I lay there in shock with a wailing baby placed on my chest. I look up at Matt on my left and he's got his hand over his mouth and tears brimming his eyes, staring at our baby with so much love.

My chest blooms with warmth and I look down at our daughter. Anyone else would look at her and think she was gross, being purple, covered in goop and blood, but she was quite literally breathtaking. Matt blubbers and bends down so he's more level to me.

"Oh my fucking god," he laughs through his emotion, wiping his eyes quickly and placing a hand on her blanketed back, her cries dying down.

"How the fuck did you do that? You're amazing oh my god." He rambles, kissing my sweaty hairline and I shake my head not really knowing how I did this either.

They let Matt cut the umbilical cord before taking her off me to bathe her quickly.

Matt grabs my face checking in on me. He scans all over my face,"You okay? You did so good, oh my fucking god." I nod quickly, feeling my adrenaline still rushing. It's a weird feeling to describe, but I am so happy.

"She was so tiny, did you see her?" I ask him, my voice a little shaky and he nods laughing, tears still shining in his eyes.

"I did, I did. She's perfect. Thank you." He kisses my lips this time and then looks over to the nurses bringing her over to him.

"You want to hold her, dad?" The nurse smiles and he visibly pales but nods nonetheless and takes her into his arms.

He looks at her and begins to tear up again, having to compose himself by looking up shaking his head. When he looks back at me, I'm sent me over the edge into my own fit of tears.

I would relive this day over and over again to just see that look on his face.

He walks over to Nick who's still beside me, bouncing her slightly.

"Nick, cmon. You've yet to hold her." Matt nods toward Nick to take her from his arms. Nick immediately shakes his head and steps back.

"No she's too fresh and tiny. I don't want to break her." He declines.

"Chris get him the pillow. Nick, hold her. You won't break her I promise you." I give him a reassuring rub on the arm and his eyes widen.

"I'm scared," He squeals quietly as he sits down in the chair and Chris sets up the pillow in his lap. Nick covers his mouth as he watches Matt walk over to him.

Chris puts a hand on his shoulder, "Nick it's gonna be fine." He giggles at his antics and I stifle my own laughter.

"Dude c'mon, I'm telling you to hold my kid not a bomb." Matt rolls his eyes and Nick flips him off.

Matt places her carefully so she's snug in Nick's arms and he freezes immediately.

"What do I do?" He looks up at me in fear.

"Just that. You're doing fine. See, she's perfectly content in your arms." I tell him softly and grab Matt's arm so he stands next to me.

I kiss his forearm and he looks back at me with a warm smile, wrapping his arm around me and sitting beside me on the bed. He pulls me in gently before kissing the top of my head.

"I'm trying to see any real defining features in her but she quite literally just looks like a baby," he studies her face as Chris takes photos of them.

"She definitely looks more like y/n," Matt says, rubbing my arm lightly before stealing one of my fries from my tray.

"I think she has my nose for sure. She hasn't really opened her eyes yet, maybe you can try and wake her up. The nurse should be coming soon to help me feed her."

"I just realized, what's her name?" Nick asks, lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his finger to try and wake her.

"Yeah, have you guys finally decided?" Chris sits down next to Nick on the couch.

Matt and I look at each other. We had been debating her name since we first saw her face. Of course we had a list prepared but we didn't want to settle on a name until we could match it to her face.

It was hard agreeing on names at first as we had very different tastes but there was one that kept coming back up in conversation and once we saw her it was a no brainer.

I nudge Matt, "Go ahead, tell them." I lean my head against his shoulder.

"Her name is June," They 'aw' in unison.

"June Iris Sturniolo." Matt tells them her full name and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face.

"I love that, such a sweet name.” Nick smiles down at her.

"Does it have a meaning? Or did you guys just like the name?" Chris pulls back her hat.

"Holy shit, she has a lot of hair." he comments.

"Explains all of my heartburn." I huff and Matt giggles beside me.

"We liked the name and we were looking at lot of nature names, month names, classic names. We landed on June a few times when going over names but didn't want to make it official until we saw her." I start and Matt nods before speaking up.

"Well, we had some music playing during the whole labor and everything but after Y/N started pushing, our playlist ended and started playing whatever. And right before June came out, the song That's Life by Frank Sinatra played. And in the song, there's a line that goes: You're riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I'm gonna change that tune when I'm back on top, back on top in June. Right when we heard that and then we saw her face, we knew that was her name." Matt concluded and I tear up.

"That's so fucking cool,"

"Stop I have chills, oh my god."

"And Iris was my grandmothers name, but we also liked how it sounded with June. It was proven really hard to find a middle name that sounded good with June and Sturniolo." I laugh.

“I love that her name has a cool story behind it that you can tell her one day.” Nick says and I get emotional thinking about telling my daughter the day of her birth.

"Hi June, you gonna wake up for us?" Chris speaks softly to her. She stays put as Nick and Chris look at her expectantly.

"I wouldn't want to open my eyes either if I were just in a a warm dark place for almost nine months and all of sudden I'm in a bright ass hospital room with a loud idiot." Matt speaks looking directly at Chris.

"She must take that after you," I say playfully and rub his chest. He rolls his eyes.

"Aw, a little Mattitude." Chris uses a baby voice, tickling her belly playfully. “Look she even makes Matt’s stank face he does when he’s mad.” He points.

“Oh my god she does,” Nick exclaims.

"Not to be weird, but you are all basically her father since you have identical DNA. Also if you guys have children one day, they'll be genetically June's half-siblings." I state my fun fact and all their faces drop.

Nick gasps, "Wait, that's actually crazy because I was just going to joke around and say 'aw she has my eye-bags'." His eyes widen and I shrug at him proving my point.

"That's so fucking weird." Matt shakes his head in realization.

Chris acts repulsed, putting a hand up. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about that. I'm no one's father, thank God." He does the sign of the cross.

"Yes. Thank God for that." Matt says shortly.

"I don't know, I think Chris will be a good dad one day." I defend him and Matt gives the side eye.

"Thank you y/n," He says with a hand over his heart.

He walks over to me and gives me a side hug. I kiss his cheek, offering him a fry and he takes it appreciatively.

"I'm definitely staying the fun uncle." Nick states, turning his attention back to June. "One day, you'll be big enough to stay at Uncle Nick's and I'll get you anything you want without your parents knowing," he says quietly to her but we can all still hear him.

She begins to stir in his arms and he freezes again.

"Oh no, she's waking up. Is she gonna cry?" he panics. "Matt quick, take her."

"She might want the boob," he says taking June out of Nick's hold.

She begins to fuss and squirm but Matt calmly shushes her and begins to bounce lightly.

"It's her feeding time in 15 minutes, should I try without the nurse?" I look up at Matt and he shrugs.

"I don't see why not. She's clearly hungry now."

"Uh, should we leave?" Chris says awkwardly and I wave him off.

"I'm gonna cover myself don't worry. Unless you want to leave," I say nonchalantly, not having a care in the world after just about everyone in this hospital has seen me naked. But of course I won't be flashing anyone.

"Junie don't cry, here's mama. She's got the food." Matt tells her quietly, bringing her to me as Chris clears my lap for me and goes to sit down next to Nick again.

"My baby," I pout as I grab her and her little cries die down once she's in my arms. "You already know the deal sister, let's see if we can do this." I talk to her confidently hoping I can do this on my own.

Matt stands beside helping me cover up and get June in the right position.

"There you go, all better." Matt speaks to her softly as she latches on and I exhale in relief. "Good job, mama." He runs his fingers through my hair and rubs my neck.

The nurse walks in mid-feed and praises me. "Looks like you've got it under control here." She smiles and checks my vitals quickly before stepping back out of the room.

Once June finishes eating I burp her upright on my lap, facing her towards everyone. At this point she's wide awake and everyone is staring at her.

"Oh my gosh, her eyes are like, gray," Nick says.

"Can she see me?" Chris waves at her, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out.

"Her eyes will most likely change color, they can change up until she's a year." I tell them. "And she can probably see you as a blob, Chris. Stop dancing." I tell him and he stops mid griddy.

"Oh..." He looks defeated and she burps loudly in that moment, making him laugh. "Why does she burp louder than me, she's like 12 hours old." he jokes.

I feel Matt's hand on my shoulder again and he gives me another squeeze. I look up at him and smile tiredly, he leans down to give me a kiss. Something we rarely do in front of others because we hate PDA. But we can't help it this time.

I hear a snap of a camera and we both look to see Nick with his film camera.

"I couldn't resist. First family portrait." he smiles softly. "I can't believe you're a father, Matthew."

"Believe it, kid."

"Nick, will you actually take our family photos when we get home." I ask rubbing Junie's back.

"The fact that you even asked that," he says looking offended and everyone laughs. "Of course I will, though."

#sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #dad!matt #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolohouse

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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago

Note

(I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but here goes nothing)

For Imagines and What Ifs, how do you think the 141 men would react to you wanting to keep your last name after you got married?

Would be they be chill about having separate names? Would they be hurt that you don't want their last name? Would they suggest a hyphenated last name as a compromise? Or (my personal fave) would they change their last name instead?

Greetings, anon! You absolutely submitted a request correctly! I adore this idea. I love thinking about any of these men as married men and what they're like in that regard. I can easily see this prompt having angst and fluff. What I would like to do is answer the last half of the prompt. Those are four distinct questions, and four distinct ideas, and I think each of them matches to one of the 141 guys in turn. That is how I would like to tackle this request (if you don't mind).

I'm sure my selections might not match up with everyone's opinion but that's why fanfiction is so wonderful. We can all have different ideas and HCs and they are all valid in their own way.

Enjoy!! I had so much fun with this one!! Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, fluff, light angst, married life

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You don’t want to take my last name?” He sounds hurt, and that breaks your heart.

“It’s not personal, Johnny. I’ve earned my title.”

“I know,” he says softly. “You worked hard. But—” Johnny sighs and rubs his chin. He glances away, clearly growing agitated.

“I love you,” you murmur, kissing his cheek.

Johnny melts a bit, kissing you back. “I’d like to call you Mrs. MacTavish.”

“And you can,” you reply softly. “Sometimes.”

“Like when?”

You need to turn his mood around. Leaning in, you playfully nip at his bottom lip. “When we’re alone. In the bedroom.”

Johnny grins.

John Price

“We need to talk about this, John. I feel like you’re avoiding the conversation.”

John’s tea mug pauses just before reaching his lips. “Avoiding what conversation?”

“About me keeping my last name,” you reply, crossing your arms

John sighs and places the mug on the counter. “You can do what you want.”

“Does it not upset you?” you ask cautiously.

“Not upset, love,” he says softly. “You’re a grown woman. I’ll respect what you want.”

You step up to him, one hand pressed to his waist. “Sure about that?”

John leans forward, stealing a kiss. “I’m more than sure, love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I don’t want to change my last name, Simon. It’s…special to me.”

Simon stands stoic and calm. He understands. Names are important. They carry memory. Sometimes good ones. Sometimes bad.

“That’s your choice,” replies Simon slowly.

“You’re not upset?”

“I’ll respect whatever you decide.”

Your sigh of relief is soft and calming. This has been a burden for you.

“What if I take your last name?”

You frown. “What?”

Simon repeats the question.

“You want that?”

“I do,” answers Simon firmly.

Names are important. Names carry memory.

Riley is Simon’s father's name. It would be a relief to shed it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“How do you feel about a compromise?” Kyle asks softly. “Instead of us keeping our last names.”

It’s a conversation the two of you have had repeatedly after saying “I do.” You want to keep your last name, and while Kyle respects it, you sense he’s not entirely happy about it.

“A compromise? What are you thinking?”

“Hyphenate them.”

“Really?” you laugh.

“Yeah,” he grins. “My name first or yours. Doesn’t matter. A bit of both of us.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “I can see it.”

“Be the same for our kids.”

“I like it,” you reply.

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finelinevogue · 1 month ago

Text

take care of you

summary - Aaron comes home in the middle of the night after you miss his calls, thinking something terrible has happened

word count - 1k

pairing - aaron hotchner x gf!reader

Aaron was only slightly panicking.

You had told him that you would wait up for him. You knew this case was a hard one for him and so you had promised to be there for him when he got home. You never broke a promise.

The fact that you hadn't answered his texts since he had landed back in Virginia was troubling him though.

He had barely said goodbye to his team before getting in his car and racing back home. He needed to see you and he needed to see you now.

As Aaron stopped at a red light he picked his phone back up again, taking note of the last few texts he had sent.

(10:36 PM) Aaron: Landed. Will be home soon

(10:58 PM) Aaron: Are you still up?

(11:05 PM) Aaron: Sweetheart if you're still awake can you just let me know you're okay?

Maybe it was the cynical criminal profiler in him, but you would never willingly go back on your word. It terrified him to know what kind of sick people lived in this world and how easily they could infiltrate an innocent life like yours.

Aaron was now spiralling, thinking the very worst.

He tried telling himself that you could simply be asleep, or perhaps you were in the shower - a thought he did not need to distract himself with currently - but his mind kept on coming back to the worst situations.

Kidnapped. Tortured. Assaulted. The list goes on.

As he pulled up the car onto the front drive, he made quick work of exiting and shutting everything off. Aaron didn't fumble around with his keys as he opened the door - he was too driven by motivation of seeing you to be distracted.

He called your name as he entered the front door.

"Y/N?"

No answer.

Aaron dropped the house and car keys in the porcelain bowl by the front door, not even bothering to take off his shoes or blazer like you normally make him do.

He popped his head into the first sitting room.

No one.

"Sweetheart?"

No answer.

The lights were on in the kitchen but no one was there. The sink was empty but there were freshly washed dishes on the side waiting to be put away.

"Y/N, honey?"

He strode into the lounge last and breathed the deepest sigh of relief when he noticed your body nestled deep into the sofa, blanket over your body, hair so messy and mouth open catching flies.

Aaron ran a stressed hand back over his head, thanking whatever deity he sometimes believed in for watching over you and for everything turning out to be alright.

He waisted no time in rounding the sofa.

He moved your body slightly further back into the sofa so he could perch on it too. Aaron's hand ran over your cheek, physically checking that you were okay.

His movements must have disturbed whatever REM sleep you were getting.

"Aaron?" You mumbled, focusing on whether the man in front of you was real or a figment of your imagination, "What—what’s wrong?"

He chuckled to himself.

You were always so quick to detect when something was the matter with him. You joked that the tell was all in the kind of frown he wore. Aaron didn't believe a word of it, but it was true. The subtlest of differences of his frown could mean a complete change in emotion.

This particular frown told you he was anxious. Worried about something.

Aaron's voice trembled as he spoke, “I’ve been calling you for hours. Texted you a few times too. You didn’t answer and I thought—”

You could tell he was struggling to steady himself, so you sat up from where you had been laying down and moved your body close to his. You dipped your head down to catch his eyes, bringing his focus back to you.

Your hands gently cupped each of his cheeks with tender care. His stubble was already coming through, which was a sign that this had been an exhausting case. If Aaron was even the slightest bit dishevelled you knew it was bad.

“I’m so sorry. I ran out of TV to watch and then I think I fell asleep."

"Didn't take a profiler to know you were asleep, honey. Your mouth was wide open." Aaron joked, trying to lighten the situation. It sort of worked, before he grew more serious again, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss. It was the simplest gesture you could think of to show that you were sorry for putting him through that. You couldn't have imagined how scary that must have been for him, especially in his line of work.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise."

"I know, but I am. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Aaron's hands come around your waist and you take it as your queue to move yours to wrap around his neck. Both of you pulled each other in for a tight hug, needing to feel the warmth of each others embrace.

You held each other for a few moments, neither one of you in a rush to let go.

“After the case we just had… I can’t lose you. I just can't.” He mumbled into your neck.

You squeezed your arms around him a little tighter before letting go slowly. He moved back in tandem with you, but moved his hands so he could cup your cheeks this time.

"I’m here.”

It was as much as you could reassure him for now.

You could see the tension melt away from Aaron. His frown of anxiety turned back to his regular frown, bordering on the smile that you were the only privileged enough person to see.

“You look exhausted." You said.

You smiled sweetly as you stroked back the hair from his forehead and pushed it back in line. The bags under his eyes were tomorrow's problem, but nothing a good night's sleep tonight couldn't fix.

Aaron gave you a tired huff, but didn't argue.

"Let me take care of you tonight, okay?” You asked.

Aaron shook his head, "That's my job to take care of you, not the other way..."

"Shut up. Tonight I’m in charge so deal with it.” You kissed him to prove that you were in charge - if only for tonight.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #bau #bau team

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gloomunson · 4 days ago

Text

The Set Up

Yeah, took me 11 months to post again, mind your business.

Smut bc of course it is. You and Eddie get set up on a blind date.

Word Count: 9847

You’d only really been told a few minor details about your date this evening.

He’s tall.

He’s loyal.

He’s easy-going.

He’s a lead singer in a band.

He’s tall.

Unsurprisingly, you were desperate enough to accept the date regardless of the brief description. He’d certainly matched some of it this far. He was tall all right. Towered over you in the brief moment he walked over to the table you’d already been seated at near the bar. He was pretty too. He was prettier than a bride on her wedding day. His lashes long and fluttering, lips full and glossy, eyelids glimmering with what looked like the remnants of eyeshadow that he must have second guessed and wiped off before he arrived. He had the hair of a rockstar, long, dirty, curly, windswept and effortlessly styled, though it must have taken him years of practice in his bathroom mirror to achieve that look, you were thankful he’d taken the time.

A few decent looking guys rolled through the bar during your wait. Some tall, some short, some certainly rockstar adjacent, none of them would quite have made the same impact as he had. But at least they’d arrived more closely to the meeting time set. He arrived 36 minutes late. You tend to be pedantic like that when you’re anxious. You thought about going home. You thought about drinking alone. You thought about chatting to one of the other guys lingering around too, but then he arrived.

He arrived strolling in like he owned the place, and you’d forgiven him at first. The leather jacket and the ring clad fingers taking away some of the pain of both his lateness and then the initial first date awkwardness. The apology wasn’t half bad either, he looked genuinely embarrassed and he looked at you with those wet brown eyes if his, the slightest glimmer of glitter at his lash line and you’d somewhat succumb to his efforts. But 30 more minutes into it with a maximum of 8 sentences said between the two of you, you couldn’t fucking fathom how this man had lead a band or gotten anywhere so far in life. He had nothing to say. He had the personality of a plank of wood. If the cocktails didn’t kick in soon, it was a wasted journey. You were rooting for him too.

You’d been trying. Small talk was exhausting but you’d at least attempted to cover the bases. You knew he was late because he got the train tonight. That he’d somehow at 28 years old never gotten one before. That he didn’t quite understand the correct platforms, scrambling and missing the first train of his. That he should have looked it up beforehand. The only reason tonight was the night he lost his public transport virginity was because his friends had warned him to leave his ‘shitty’ van at home. You guessed that meant he either had poor taste in vehicles or poor hygiene in the maintenance of one. Perhaps even both which was also pretty dire and preventative of things escalating between you.

You also knew that he’d admittedly not been on a ‘real date’ for quite some time. Probably because in peak musician fashion, he’d tended to have more flings and hook ups either before, after or hell, maybe even during a show. You’d also spotted the giant hickey on his neck to further assist that theory, not so much the location but confirmation that he’d not been one to shy away from casual sex, neither should he. But it was quite amusing that he’d attempted to conceal it for the sake of this date. Unfortunately for him, the shade was warmer than his skin tone, you’d spotted it pretty early on. He’d also nervously rubbed off a large portion of it. It’s a wonder he’d bothered to hide it and go on a date at all, he clearly didn’t need the set up.

The only saving grace during the awkward silences was the tapping of his fingers against the sticky high table. His hands were pretty. Fingers long and slender, precisely beating a rhythm into the wood that had so thoroughly not been deserving of it. His pale skin almost translucent enough that the bluey green veins pumping and pulsing beneath his skin were practically begging for your attention and they’d caught it. If there was nothing else coming from tonight, you at least needed to consider the attention those digits could provide in the backseat of your car that you actually had bought with you. Shit. Maybe that was the rockstars effect right there. Those damn fingers.

Suddenly the motion had ceased, his fingers retreating from the table, instead wiggling around in the air in a peculiar manor. He’d caught you. “My eyes are up here sweetheart.” You followed his fingers all the way up to the upturned smirk on his lips. He gestured to it so helpfully with his index finger too. “So, they are.” You remain calm, cold even. As if you’d not been caught drooling over him. “Must have gotten lost searching for a reason to continue this date.” He gulps, his Adam’s apple fighting for its life. He withdraws his hands, sinking them under the table to rub the nervous sweat off his palms onto his jeans instead. “That bad?”

He’s not surprised that you thought it. It was abysmal. Through no fault of your own, it was all on him. But the fact you’d had the balls to say it out loud. Though truth be told, you weren’t actually intending to. He was both aroused and mortified and it wasn’t an entirely new sensation to him. You were so far out of his league you may as well have been on another continent, planet even. He was painfully aware he had nothing about him to keep a woman like you interested. You were bubbly and smart. You were pretty. The kind of pretty that makes him want to throw himself over a puddle in the street so that you might walk all over him instead of dirtying your shoes on the ground, fuck a jacket, like in the old movies, you deserved better than a jacket. He’d tried to come up with compliments, stories, anything about his life that could be considered interesting or mildly intelligent, he came up with nothing.

He started tapping the second he broke into the library of previous conversations with his friends, hoping to steal an anecdote of theirs that he could pass as his own instead. He’d set the bar for himself so low that literally anything would have done, would have filled the gap in conversation. Like that one time his friend Jeff fell right off the stage during a set. Or that other time when the same friend Jeff got hit with pyrotechnics accidentally. He was far too slow, and you were far too lovely for him to look at. There was no chance of him successfully escaping into his own head to pluck that material out in a timely fashion when he could get lost in your glare instead. He just wanted to be in the moment with you, romantic in his head but was the romance in the room with them at the dingy bar they’d somehow both found themselves in? No, he didn’t suppose it was. He was completely fucking this up.

“It’s not great.” You admitted. You probably could have been kinder. Okay, you definitely could have been kinder, but you were so fed up with dates heading south, may as well speed up the process. He suddenly perks up. “Do you smoke?” You furrowed your brow for a moment before responding. “Like cigarettes?” You cringed that you’d even asked, of course that was what he’d meant. “Like weed.” He deadpanned. Finally, you found yourself cracking a smile for the first time that night. He finally felt he did something right for the first time that week. His friends had also warned him not to mention his affliction for pot. It’s not like the date could have gotten any worse, it seemed like the opportune time to pull that one out. “I wouldn’t say no.” You may as well get something out of this. Free weed with a hot guy was not something you were strong willed enough to pass up. If it lead to the inevitable make out session with them knee deep in the passenger seat afterwards then so be it.

“This is gonna sound really fucking presumptuous of me and I promise it’s not like that but uh, ha, I uh I have a room at the motel across the street.” You waited for him to stop mentally cursing himself for mentioning it, but it didn’t seem likely to stop soon. “You wanna smoke there?” You complete the suggestion for him. He nodded. “Figured it’d save us stinking out your car, know how hard it is to get rid of that smell.” Speaking from a literal decade of experience. “Very considerate of you.” You were already hopping from the stool you’d been sat on; he finally got a look at you in full as you made your way to the exit in front of him. He literally pinched himself.

You were unbelievable. It was a sick joke that his friends thought he’d ever have a chance with you. The only information they’d given him about you was;

She’s hot.

She’s a little blunt and direct.

She’s really funny.

She’s sweet once you get to know her.

She’s hot.

Hot didn’t even come close. The skirt cut way above the knee, your thighs thick, juicy and jiggling as you walked. Your tights an opaque black you’d assumed boring but still doing unspeakable things to him with the way they hugged you. He was about to get on his knees and crawl after you if only to get a better look at them. The fact you’d paired it off with a corset top was insane to him. A sheer black top was layered beneath it, sure, but it did nothing to hide your cleavage squished together and pushed up to the heavens as god intended. It was the kind of outfit to make a man do shameful, disgusting things to himself alone at night. That paired with the makeup, flawless and yet so minimal he’d only really picked up on it because of the neat little flicks above your eyelids. The accentuation of your lashes mixed with your waterlines coated in a cool white liner was actively destroying him. He had absolutely no idea what he’d done to deserve a shot with a woman like you and from that moment on, he couldn’t afford to let his nerves get the better of him anymore.

He chased out after you with a new found energy, similarly to a puppy chasing its owner. You arched your brow as he caught up with you, bouncing on the balls of his doc marten covered feet. “You’re kinda cold you know that?” You wondered if there was anything else he wanted to add to that or if he was done offending you there. “It’s really fucking intimidating actually.” A breeze blows over them, his curls combing back in the wind, his side portrait revealing itself along with the baby pink blush coating his cheeks. The street lights glowing behind him made him look pretty fucking angelic from your perspective. You felt yourself soften. “I’m sorry for that.” You looked down at your shoes, platform trainers you never went without, with a genuine remorse. “I know I must be hard to talk to.” You did feel embarrassed about the way you’d acted. You’d never really given him a chance. You tended to throw up a wall pretty effortlessly around new people. From the second he was late, your preconceptions plummeted into the earth. Perhaps you were too hasty after all.

“Hey it’s okay. I’m a big boy I can handle it.” He gestured to his chest as they walked more in unison. “We all have our shit.” He continues, suddenly bubblier than ever. “I for one, am fucking terrified of pretty girls.” He grinned, big and cheesy when you laugh, finally feeling like he’s accomplishing some level of charm. You even went as far as to tucking some hair behind your ear before the wind pulled it back away again. He wanted so desperately to reach out and fix it for you, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he had some serious impressing to do before he could reach that level of intimacy.

“No, I’m serious. Hard to believe I know.” You rolled your eyes. “Even harder when they’re a little mean.” He nudges your arm playfully, and boldly really, considering he was really pushing himself out of his comfort zone now. “I am pretty mean aren’t I?” You cringed. You didn’t want to be. You were just closed off and with good reason too, though he’d never question it, he could see it was there and something you were working through. “I reckon I can get you out of that shell.” You couldn’t stop smiling now, it was infuriating. “Like you suddenly came out of yours.” You elbowed him this time. He checked off a mental tally of things you did that made him think he stood a chance, so far he had two, which wasn’t a lot, but certainly enough.

“Sweetheart I’m gonna be honest.” He paused walking, you too, stopping in front of him, short and sweet and giving him your undivided attention and he wanted to kiss you, but it was so far from the moment for it. “You get set up on a date by your friends you expect it to be a failure right? Like you’re a fucking mess so naturally whoever they choose for you is going to be just as bad right? Half the time someone you’d never look twice at. As shallow as that is to say. But then I walk in and see, well you.” He gestures to you with both hands excitedly. “Shit I couldn’t believe it.” You shook your head. “You know you’re hot right? You act like it’s me who’s the hot one here.” He literally dropped his jaw, your confession wasn’t a complete blinder, he’d known he wasn’t ugly. There were some questionable attributes and insecurities of his, but he wasn’t ugly. He just hadn’t expected you to see that too. “Are you serious? I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.” They start walking again, mostly because you feel so embarrassed and hot under the collar at the confession that you needed to put some space between the two of you again.

“The hickey on your neck says you know I’m right.” Of course you’d seen it. He instinctively reached to cover it, as if to say ‘oh that’s what that is.’ “Would you believe me if I said I was attacked by an octopus or something?” You looked at him seriously. “Yeah, no fair enough.” He snorted. He cursed himself for it. You thought it was fucking adorable. “We all have our shit.” You repeat his earlier statement. He genuinely beamed at you. “That we do.” They finally reached the motel, he leads you to his room, hands shaking like crazy, it could be the cold, it could be the nerves, either way, he struggled to slot the key in the lock. You cover his hand with yours, taking the keys, unlocking the door yourself. You were so fucking cute. He was losing his mind.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” You waltzed in. Letting the warmth of the room engulf you in a hug. It’s not as bad as you’d pictured. It’s actually pretty clean. The walls freshly coated in off white paint. The carpet outdated but hoovered and surprisingly unstained. The sheets also outdated but again, cleaner than you’d expect from a joint like this. Suddenly fooling around in your car didn’t seem as appealing. Not when the bed looked so inviting. But that was planning too far ahead for you. Not far enough for him. He was picturing marriage and kids by now.

“Shut the fuck up.” He reached into his bag, bringing out a pre-rolled joint. “My, my, you do come prepared.” Unfortunately, he failed to notice the tiny lube packets thrown on the desk right beside the bag. “Safety first.” He wanted shooting. You’d happily shoot him. Though the thought that he might be the slightest bit interested in fucking you was making all your insides gooey. It was also real hard not to squeeze your thighs together. “Where to?” He scrambles, placing the joint between his lips, heading to the back of the room, another door, leading out to a shitty pool area, probably one of the most depressing scenes. Even the bright fuck off blue tint of the chlorine overdosed pool couldn’t brighten up the grey paving and metal fencing around it. The deckchairs missing half their legs, material spliced with a knife weren’t much helping it either. “Absolutely not.” He agreed, closing the door, locking it, throwing the chain on the latch firmly for good measure. He didn’t feel like dying there tonight.

They instead decide to smoke in the room, the windows open wide, the lights dimmed, some music playing lowly and gravelly from the clock radio at his bedside. He’s laid with his head to the foot of the bed, knees bent up, socks digging under his pillows on his designated side. You opted for propping yourself up at the headboard, pillows supporting your back, legs lay out flat, thighs pushed together. He’d so badly wanted to lay on them.

They pass the joint between them till it was half way through, the motel room hazy, the air thick, he damns it for hiding you from him. He just wants to get closer. “Whatcha thinking there?” You leaned forward, elbows on your knees. “So many dangerous thoughts.” He lets slip with a smirk. “Care to share with the class.” He groans, but he doesn’t mean it. “I share my weed, my time, my beautiful room, and you still want more?” He tsked at you. “If you’re thinking about me, don’t I have the right to know?” You offered back. “You have ownership over thoughts now?” You nodded. “I do. Better get them out in the open before you get into trouble.” You giggle at your own bullshit and that’s exactly what it was, complete and utter, couldn’t handle your weed bullshit. “What if,” he sits up, leaning back on his elbows. “The thoughts themselves get me into trouble.” You ponder it for a moment. “Then I really, really wanna know.” Your eyes lit up with a genuine excitement. “You’re so high aren’t ya little one?” You fought the urge to whimper at the pet name. “Tell me.”

He sighed. This time he sat up fully. You shuffled around yourself, crossing your legs. Your skirt so short you were well aware you weren’t covered by anything but tights right now but at least they were opaque, ish. He begged himself not to look. “Well, I was just thinking maybe we could uh…” he leaned in closer, his nerves started eating away at him when you leaned too, “we could shot gun. Maybe.” You chuckled. “If that’s as dark as it gets in that little mind of yours then your little fling,” you reached out, prodding the fading hickey on his neck, “must have been pretty abysmal.” He clicked his tongue. “Well, you certainly got me there huh.”

He leans up on his knees, lighting up before instructing you, “open up.” You were practically gawping at him as he inhaled, mouth propping open while he inhaled enough for him to feel his lungs aching. He reached for your face, thumb on one side of your mouth the rest of his fingers on the other, stretching your mouth wider, pushing the smoke right out of his own and into yours. Your eyes were open, just barely, eyelids heavy, pretty lashes fluttering, you had the audacity to moan when his lips pulled away without even kissing you. He was already fisting the sheets. It was over way too fast.

“You are way too fucking hot right now.” He stubs out the joint momentarily, placing it in the ash tray he’d now deposited on the desk. “Then why aren’t you kissing me?” He breathed a shaky breath, running his fingers down his face frustratedly. “That’s, that’s a good fucking question actually.” He practically bounced back onto the bed, you giggling away so fucking sweet, finally relaxing around him. His friends were right, you were a real sweetie deep down. He liked you at your bitchiest, any other version of you was a blessing on top.

Your hands stroke his cheek, startling him, you begin to pull them away, maybe a step too far but he’s pulling you back in by the wrists, depositing your arms lazily around his neck instead. “Just caught me off guard is all.” He lets his forehead lean against yours, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest. You smelled so good. He’d never forget it. Bury himself in it. You were more intoxicating than any drug and he’d sampled his fair share. “Don’t want you to regret this sweetheart.” He says it honestly, vulnerably. “You need to stay out of your head.” You’re calmer than he is. It didn’t take much. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna be.” He rubs his nose against yours, so close yet so far. “But do you even like me? Cause I swear, you were so out, now you’re all in I…” Usually it’s the guy who kisses the girl when they’re rambling on, but you threw the outdated stereotype right in the trash. You kissed him. The second you did, he cupped your cheeks, grateful you had.

It wasn’t the best kiss either of them had ever shared. It wasn’t electric or life changing or even passionate, despite the chemistry they clearly shared now. It was messy and miscalculated, and they clashed their teeth with a clanging sensation at least twice. “Okay stop, stop.” You pulled back, not too far but far enough for him to miss you. “What the fuck was that?” You were deadly serious. He was mortified. “I can do so much fucking better I swear to god.” He would beg on his knees for another shot immediately. “Just take it easy.” Your voice is so soothing, reassuring and encouraging, he leaned in again. “I really wanna kiss you too, Eddie.” His eyes pinged with tiny hearts. “You do?” He was so struck dumb by the sound of you saying his name. “Stay with me here.” He nods like a lovesick puppy. “Kiss me again.” You nudge him, this time he eased into it. It started as steady, gentle closed mouth kissing, before prying your lips open with his tongue kissing, which lead to him pulling you into his lap kissing. Then it was him raking his fingers through your hair kissing, elevating to softly whining into your mouth kissing and well, you can gather the rest, you were fucking kissing.

“That’s more like it.” You praised, tugging at his hair, his breath hot against your lips, a smirk befalling you when he pushed his hips right up into yours, forgetting the thin layer of fabric between them, hitting right at your core, a moan pouring from your mouth into his. You even felt his dick kick in his jeans. “Fuck baby.” He whimpered at you calling him that. “You gonna whimper and whine whenever I talk honey.” You stroked his chin, his lips chasing after yours, power going straight to your head. He was so far gone, be it the weed, be it you, he didn’t know and he sure as hell didn’t care.

“Can’t help myself princess.” Your turn to swoon. “Drive me fuckin crazy.” His hands run up your thighs. “This fucking outfit. Can’t believe I nearly bored you to death at the start. I deserve a world of suffering.” You just hummed and nodded, letting him mumble and mutter away. “Dressed so pretty for me. Shortest fucking skirt. Knew what you were doing.” He starts sucking on your neck, moving your hair out of the way to better bruise you. “Made so much fun of my neck, let’s see how much you like some marks of your own.” He teased. “You wouldn’t dare.” You fought back. “Already fucking there.” He bit down into the soft, warm flesh of your neck, soothing the toothmarks with a swipe of his tongue. You hissed at the sensation, all sorts of thoughts flickering through the space of your mind right now. Eddie’s tongue, Eddie’s tongue, Eddie’s fucking tongue.

His heart was fucking hammering in his chest, all senses heightened, craving you. Yours were just as bad, if not worse. You were notorious for becoming insatiable under the influence, so it was no surprise to you how quickly the pace had increased. His apparent and fairly large need for you too was enough to mean that he was swimming in a similar ocean. “Can we please take some clothes off, I feel like I’m scorching.” You pulled at your corset like it were made of flames. “Never gonna say no to that.” He leans in kissing you again. Hands reaching up your back to feel around the corset, trying to find the tie. It had to be there somewhere. You guide his wrists down to the bow which he carefully undoes. He tries to tug it off you, not understanding how exactly it worked, pulled at it, yanked it, unthreaded it, fiddling some more. He pulls from your lips, maximum concentration, head resting against your chest, muttering into it. “Why are you doing this to me?”

You stroke his head, flattening some of his untamed mane, soothingly kissing his crown. “An A for effort. Poor baby.” He hugged you tight, needy and clingy and so, so into you. “Definitely the least practical top for a hook up but they make my tits look great.” You offered as a consolation. He pulled back, not looking at you, but directly at your breasts, grinning like a fool. That was enough of an encouragement boost to keep him going. “They sure do.” By the time he rests back against them, you’ve unthreaded the corset enough to slip it off over your head, which he gladly jumps to help you do, chucking the wretched thing across the room once it was off.

“Holy shit, look at these fucking things.” You bit into your lip as he grabbed them, no gentle caress, just taking them in each of his massive hands, squeezing them, tugging them, bunching them together, pinching each nipple till you pushed your chest further into his grip. “Unbelievable.” He lifted the sheer top you’d had on beneath the corset. Watching them fall out bare, they were beautiful. They were big, not perfectly round, not in the least bit symmetrical, but full and hot and heavy in his hands. Your nipples hard and prodding at him with an unfamiliar shaped lump adoring them both. Metal. You’d pierced not one but both nipples. “You’re fucking kidding me.” He stares at them, no really, mouth open, gold fish popping, gawping at them. “You can still suck on them.” It was as if you’d read his mind, he was wondering it too and, thankful you’d said it. He feared he might never have left that moment otherwise.

The feeling was different. Nothing like he’d experienced before. Boobs were boobs to an extent sure but the metal bar adorning them both was so erotic, so delicious to him. He sucked them gently at first, too afraid to do too much in unfamiliar territory. Once you sighed softly in approval, encouraging his movements, he finally began to explore, licking, sucking gently pulling with his teeth, your breath hitching, sounds increasing, soft little moans that coursed right through his blood stream. His tongue tangling around the piercings were enough to alert you to any other skills he might have had in that department. You made a bold assumption that he’d knew his way around with few complaints.

“I need more Eddie.” You pushed your chest into him. “Fuck I need more.” You were so high, aching with need, bursting with lust. He managed to pull himself away, only to catch your eyes. “Need more what?” You scowled, less than impressed with his agender to torture you further. “Or should I ask where you need me, hmm?” You shuddered. “Where do you fucking think?” You snapped, agitated and unafraid to hide it. He lapped it up. This might be his one and only opportunity to have a woman of your calibre begging for his cock, you could bet your ass he was going to milk it.

“Where I’m fucking soaking you already.” You pouted, your thighs squeezing his, sweet little centre rubbing down onto the zipper of his jeans, catching just right. An entirely new tactic to get yourself what you wanted. He moved his hand down between them as if he didn’t already feel the dampness, low and behold, his jeans were fucking ruined. “Gonna do anything about it?” You urged him, pushing him further, you’d cross every line you had to if it made him act.

Finally, he grabbed your hips, ready to roll you both over throwing your back down into the mattress, his body lowering, slotting between your spread thighs. The weight of him pinning you down. “Yeah I’m gonna do several fucking things about it.” Your cunt fluttered around nothing, the tremors rising all the way up into the pit of your stomach. It was a flaming sensation, making you fidget and puff short little sighs of frustration into the room. You were pained by the lack of his touch even more so by the emptiness.

“That was hot.” You sighed; he smirked. “You’re hot.” His eyes rake over your body. “Look at you.” He ran his hands down your sides, he couldn’t decide what to play with first. So much choice, so much to devour. He was stalling. So nervous he couldn’t quite push himself to do anything at all. Just leaning back on his legs, not believing the sight before him. You reached out for his hand, not to bring it to touch you, even though you weren’t opposed to the idea. Instead, you just wanted to bring him back down to earth, offer him some solace. “You still with me?” You traced your thumb across the back of his hand. “We can hit pause.” He shakes his head, taking your other hand in his. “No fucking way princess.” He gulps. “I just needed to look at you, take it all in.” He pulls your hand to his lips, kissing it. “I might not get the chance again.” You sure hoped he would, as did he. “You have about 2 seconds to take a mental picture.” You mouthed “one, two,” before he leaned down, kissing you delicately on the mouth.

You tug at his hair, pulling his weight on top of you, wanting it actually. He grunts. “Please, take some damn clothes off.” He pauses for a moment. Shit. He couldn’t just keep his clothes on. He sits up, practically flying off the bed like an erratic little bat, flinging his jacket off, his shirt, struggling with his jeans too. “Shit, fuck, shit.” You’re leant up, arms behind you, watching him hop on one leg, trying to get his boots off whilst his jeans are halfway down his legs. You decide to show mercy, putting him out of his misery, slipping onto your knees, halting him.

He gulps, swallowing hard as he takes in the view of you there, topless, blushing, hair thrown over your shoulder, on your fucking knees. You unlace his boot, slipping it off his foot, one after the other, before tugging down his jeans, letting him step out of them. While you’re down there, you can’t help but peak, his sizeable bulge straining against his boxers, leaking. A sweet little wet patch calling to you. You move your face towards it, but he stops you. “Nuhuh sweetheart, no can do.” You pout, brows furrowing sweetly. He tilts your chin up toward him. “Want me to bust in 2 seconds flat? One more pout and I’m there sweetheart. Don’t test me on this one.” You roll your eyes before admitting defeat, effortlessly standing up again, sitting yourself on the edge of the bed.

“What do you suggest instead then?” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself as he approaches you slowly. "Why don't you lie back for me, princess?" His voice is low and husky, dripping with barely restrained desire. He wasn’t fooling anyone. You shift higher up the bed, leaning into the pillows while his hands already work at tugging your skirt down your plump thighs.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband, tugging gently as he looks you dead in the eye. “Lift,” he commands, his voice firm yet gentle. It makes your stomach summersault. You comply, arching your back slightly as he slowly drags the short little thing down your legs, tossing it aside along with your tights, your panties left on.

Just as you ponder why he left them on at all, he pulls them up, between your lips, “for me?” You roll your eyes, mostly in hopes he doesn’t see the effect he’s having on you, “which part?” He takes a swipe, “the lace and the dampness.” You groan. He moves them to the side and pulls you apart, admiring you, sucking in a deep breath. “Stop staring.” You squirm. He ignores you, “I’m serious stop,” he looks at you, “shut the fuck up, I’m working here.” You face palm in embarrassment, he takes the win. He leans in, sucking at you, licking you, in all the wrong places almost as if he’s doing it on purpose. He cannot be serious. First the kiss now this.

You lean up on your elbows, watching him, as soon as your eyes meet his, he finds your clit, “oh there it is.” He smirks into it, you mumble, you’re not sure what. He hums. His breath is hot against you, you already felt like you were on fire and all he was doing was adding oxygen to it. But his tongue is so gorgeous and long, darting inside you. You forgive him. He’s fucking perfect and direct around your clit, plus his plump, pretty lips latched onto you, sending you to heaven. Felt so empty though, clenching down on nothing, needing more than what he was giving you. Maybe you were greedy, maybe you just wanted this man like no other. Maybe that was the same thing.

“More.” You sigh. He ignores you, purposely or accidentally you’re unsure. “Fuck more.” You repeat. He mumbles around you, lifting a hand to wave you off, nothing was stopping him now, “please.” His brow quirks up at that. “Pleaseee.” You say again. He rotates his finger as if to say, “keep going,” head still buried between your legs. “Please, babe, I need more, please, please.” The gesture continues. You groan, hips wiggling, his spare hand pins them. “Fuck, I need more, please, please more. Eddieeee.” He lifted his hand to gesture a chef’s kiss, and you wanted to crush his head with your thighs like a damn watermelon. He pissed you off even more when his mouth hesitated, leaving you with nothing for far too long, before he finally sucked on those same sarcastic fingers, pushing them inside you. He didn’t stop there; his lips were back at your clit. Your head was thrown back into the pillows beneath you, your back arching, hips bucking into him. “Fuck.”

Despite his theatrics, it was good, it was more than good. Everything increased by the weed of course but credit where credit is due and all that. You were drenched, whining, pushing your tits into your own hands. You were floating on a cloud. He was touching you so well. So, fucking well. You almost felt that band snap, stomach summersaulting with the realisation. Cumming, you were close to cumming. Fuck what if you sounded stupid? What if you made too much noise or fuss? What if he didn’t like the way you tasted? You psyched yourself out of it when you got too close, he furrows his brows, pulling away when you groan and mutter frustratedly. He came up for air like a diver who’d been underwater, hair pushed back, gasping for a breath. “What happened? Weren’t you there? Felt like you were there.” He’s not angry, not annoyed he’d failed, really he had only the look of concern.

“I was there.” You confirm. “What happened?” He still touches you, not to make you cum, just cause he wanted to, really wanted to, if you did though, that was a bonus. “I got in my head.” He nodded, understandingly. “Well, it’s a very nice head, I’d wanna be in there too.” He says it so comfortingly poking you. “But it’s kinda cruel to deny yourself, don’t ya think?” His fingers slip inside you again briefly, pulling out, seeing if you had any objection. “Think I think too much.” He laughs. “That’s what the weed was for.” You cover your face. “I don’t wanna force it, but I do want to try again, would you be okay with that?” The way he looks at you makes you want to trust him with your life. Eyes big and beautiful, soft for you. You agreed, the fact he wasn’t put off entirely was unfortunately a shock to you. “Okay.” You breathe, relaxing.

He builds you up again, much the same, consistency being key. “Close your eyes.” He talks you through it. You do so. He mumbles. “Just focus on how I feel, can you do that?” You nod but he doesn’t see, too busy, so you speak up. “Ye- yeah.” He continues. You focus, eyes closed, he feels good, wet, warm, “hmm,” his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, torturously not dipping inside. “Oh.” Then his tongue licks at your clit, short, quick flickers, not overly exaggerated. “Shit.” His lips kiss and suck and hold the bundle with care, his finger pushes into you, slow and deliberate, gently hooking, as if tugging at that very string preventing you from getting there. “Fuck, baby.” He repeats, patiently drawing you near. Feeling you shuffle, feeling you tighten, hearing you whine as you near the edge, he tugs that string like it’s his fucking lifeline, and he needs it back in his possession, you crumble, back arching, moans loudening, he doesn’t let up until your thighs are shaking, breath laboured. “Fuck, fuck.” Your hips drop, body feeling like it’s plummeting from great heights, orgasm crashing over you in waves. He pulls away from you, he doesn’t grin like you thought he would, just wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares at you like you hung the fucking moon.

He climbs up your body, peppering kisses along your stomach, your chest, your neck, your jaw. His face comes into view over you, and he smiles softly. His eyes are glazed, and his pupils are huge. He looks high and sated, happy. And its infectious. He leans in to kiss you but stops himself. “Do you… I mean… can I…” You try to finish for him. “Kiss me?” He flashes his teeth a little, before biting his bottom lip. “Yeah.” He says breathlessly. Your nod is the only permission he needs before he takes your mouth again, cupping your jaw. You kiss him passionately, enjoying the taste of yourself mixed with his sweet mouth as his tongue glides along your bottom lip, dipping inside to tangle with your own. You can feel his erection pressing against your hip, aching, no, throbbing. You hum against his tongue, face moving, moulded perfectly against his, body rocking too, grinding against him. Both of you getting carried away, feeling free now. Comfortable.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he slots between your legs, hands reaching down to grip the fat of your ass in his hands, groaning, hips bucking into you when he takes hold. “Fuck.” You gasp. He continues kissing you, sucking hard onto your lips, biting a little, licking a little, tongue deep inside your mouth. He tries to be quiet but you can feel him panting a little against your mouth, hips pushing at you in desperation.

It’s now just a case of who breaks first. Neither of you willing to pull away for even a second. Despite knowing how badly you needed each other. His hips start moving more intentionally, grinding against you, making his own frustrated sounds which get smothered against your lips. You can literally feel his struggle between wanting to maintain control and losing it completely. His hands squeeze your ass tighter, spreading you, pulling you closer. Slotting you directly against his clothed cock. Your fingers dig into his chest, scraping gently at his tattoos there. He sighs at the catch of your nails. You test him again, firmer. Scratching him as he shudders. You do it again, there’s a whimper against your lips this time but he’s pulling away, he’d reached boiling point.

"Fucking hell.” He pulls back, panting hard. His eyes are dark with lust, his hair tousled from your fingers running through it. He looks down at your breasts, rising and falling with each breath, then back up to your eyes. “I wanna… god I wanna fuck you baby, can I fuck you?” His hands stroke over your shoulder, up and down, a gentle, tickling touch. “God I wanna fuck you.” You lean up, nose brushing against his, his eyes flutter closed, you feel them long bambi lashes fan at your cheeks. You chase his lips. Kissing him harshly. Dragging him back down against your body.

He cups your cheeks, kissing you back, tongue slipping into your mouth, but he still tries to speak. “That a yes?” You groan against his mouth. “Tell me it’s a yes.” He’s kissing across to your jaw. You crane your neck to give him full access. He nips at you, teeth grazing then squeezing, a punishment for leaving him hanging. “Shit, yes, yes you can fuck me. Want you to fuck me, stop being a fuckin vampire.” He chuckles against your neck, his body relaxing. He bites again but softly this time, before sucking where your shoulder meets your neck soothing any injury. His hips push against you. His length sliding against your slick, throbbing cunt. He’s so hard it hurts, you, not him, though maybe him too. “Shit. Condom?” He pulls back to look at you.

“You don’t have any? Mr wears a hickey on the first date.” You look at him in absolute awe. “How do you have lube and not condoms?” You dip in for another kiss. You couldn’t help it. “I uhh don’t have one on me no. And no comment on the uh other thing.” He mumbles against your lips. His heart pounding, stomach plummeting. He’d ruined everything. But your legs wrap around his waist. Sending him humming when your pussy grinds against him. His own hips matching yours. “You have any? Little miss perfect?” He asks quietly, sucking your bottom lip again. Your legs tighten around him. He whimpers. “Maybe.” His eyebrows arch. Fuck if you grind against him anymore you’re in for one hell of a sticky situation.

“Maybe?” He groans, face scrunching. “You wanna use me as a toy baby, just fuckin tease and never let me have you?” He doesn’t even hate the idea. There’s a sick part of him that wants it like that, but he pins it for a later date. He instead, kisses down your neck, sucking hard onto the same spot as before, in case you missed his warning. You hiss. “I’m on the pill if you even care.” His eyes widen. His pupils blowing out like that of a cat. Big, black, and impossible to ignore. He stops kissing you for a second, staring at your face in utter disbelief and perhaps even a hint of excitement, his Christmas coming early. Him too, potentially. “You’re on the pill? As in, I can come inside you? As in, I can fill you up? As in…”

“Offer expiring as we speak.” You rock your hips up against him, for something, anything. “No, nope, nuhuh, fuck no, no expiring, gonna just fuck you baby.” He kisses you back, practically tearing your panties just to get to you. His hands roaming over your body roughly. You part your legs wider like an invitation and he takes it. Breaking the kiss only to shuck off his boxers with ease before spreading your legs wide. You gawp at his cock, half sitting up just to get a better view. “Great, now you’re staring.” It twitches as he speaks, shy maybe. “Can’t help it.” You absentmindedly lick over your bottom lip, but he notices it, eyes locked on your face for any kind of negative reaction. “Big huh.” He huffs. “I’m serious.” You insist. “And the way you.. curve a little.” Your hands reach out to stroke him, but you pull your hand back as if you’d been bitten. No, you wouldn’t touch him yet.

He watches your hand pull back with amusement, frustration too. His own hand reaches for you, grabbing yours and guiding it to wrap firmly around him. “Go on, get a proper feel. Ain't gonna bite baby." His hips flex slightly, pushing his cock into your palm encouragingly. Smearing his precum against your palm. His voice was strained. “Spits though.” You swipe through the beading white droplets leaking from his slit. “Looks pretty dangerous to me.” He growls, his hips bucking into your hand, his own still over yours. “Woman," his face scrunches up, how he hadn’t cum, was a fucking miracle to him. “Want me to put it in?”

His hips jerk, he’s embarrassed by the whimper that leaves him when your wrist twists, experimentally touching him, torturing him. “Lie back, lie back and fucking move your hands.” He sounded pained. He was fucking pained. Your cheeks flush crimson. “Please.” He adds politely. Just in case he snapped a little too hard. But you liked it. You only blushed because the thought of squishing him inside you was enough to make you drip.

He watches you with barely restrained urgency as you lay back. The moment you do, he pounces, crawling over you like some kind of predator. Settling between your thighs with a relieved groan at the welcoming heat awaiting him. His cock jumps against you, and he can't help the frustrated grunt that escapes him. You rut your hips against him, and he just can’t get over it. Every fucking thing you do. Every little thing. You were so sexy. So incredibly hot without even trying. He takes himself in his hand, rubbing his thick, hot head against your pussy, swiping through, coating himself in your arousal and you both shudder. You grasp for his forearm, stopping him before he even has the chance to dip his needy tip into you. You were killing him.

“Let me in. Please baby you fuckin have to let me in.” He leaks some more precum against you, you like the way its feels, sticky and warm against your skin. “I will, I promise, just not like this.” He groans exasperated. “Then what? Like what baby?” He’s trying so hard to keep level headed here but you were testing him. He takes a new approach, pinching your lips around his length, fucking through them, head catching your clit, a sweet whine tumbles from your lips. He didn’t even need to be inside you to turn you to mush with his cock. “Just wanna wrap myself around you, you fucking idiot, want to touch you, hold you and fucking feel you properly not just lie here complicit in missionary.” It’s a wonder you manage to get it out at all, through laboured breath, his dick pulsing against you.

“He smirks down at you, his eyes glimmering, amused. “Then don't.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your neck, his hands sliding up your sides, around to your back then up to tangle in your hair. “Touch me.” He breathes, his voice low and husky. “Hold me. Wrap your fucking body around me.” He lifts you slightly. You wrap your arms tight around his neck, your legs hug around his waist, body clinging to his with all your strength. He lays you both on your side, the two of you sinking into the mattress, into each other, his cock lining up with you and you doing nothing to prevent him from slipping in, just letting his tongue catch yours as you moan for him, and he does too, the loudest you’d ever heard him, overwhelmed from plunging into your hot, wet little pussy. His hands rake over your ass, grabbing at it, pulling you further onto him, with no protest from you, just acceptance, just taking him and taking him so god damn perfectly.

His breath hitches as he feels you take every inch of him, your body moulding around his like some sort of fucked up puzzle piece. He groans, hands gripping your ass tighter, grinding you against him, him rocking his hips into your cunt, meeting you there. “Fuck," he gasps, his hips moving in a slow, deep grind as he slides in and out of you in this new position. "Feel so damn good around me baby." He mumbles against your neck. “So, fucking wet.” He ruts into you smiling against your neck. “Yes baby.” He moans softly; his voice muffled against your skin. “Like that.” He encourages, his hips snapping forward as he grips your thighs and pulls you closer. “Touch me.” He gasps, his breath hot against your neck. “Hold me.”

“Yes,” you tangled your fingers in his hair, he grunts as you tug. “I know, I know you like it baby.” You coo. "You god damn know it." He hisses, bucking his hips harder. "You pull my hair like that again." He warns darkly. "And I'll breed you." Your breath hitches, he feels you squirm, like you’re trying to get away from him. He curses himself mentally. “Too much? Way too fucking much?” He panics. “First fuckin date remember.” He rolls his eyes. “Already balls deep baby, too late for etiquette.” You huff. “Just maybe keep the whole breeding thing to a minimum.” He nods in agreement although he doesn’t miss the way you clenched around him as you said it, he took a mental note, not that it’d take, you had him scrambled.

Despite him nodding, he doesn’t really mean it. He’s already picturing you stuffed full of his cum. “Mmm.” He pushes those thoughts aside. “I won’t mention it again.” He promises, pushing his hips forward. “Pinky promise sweetheart.” Your hands lock in the promise, his forehead against yours, breath hot against your lips. “God can you… fuck can you move back a little, gimme some room.” He rolls his eyes but complies, shifting back slightly with a soft grunt, giving you a little more space between your bodies. His cock slips out partway, the new position allowing him to look down between you both, admiring the sight of himself disappearing inside you. "Better?" He huffs. Barely keeping it together. Feeling it was one thing, seeing it was another. The grip you had on him as he pulled back, far enough the tip caught your lips before pushing all the way back in, hugged tight by you, your hips bucking, back arching. You slip a hand down between your torsos, feeling your way down to rub at your clit, his eyes nearly bulge out of his skull, watching you rub yourself, fucking yourself on his cock, desperately humping at him. “Fuck, so much better, so much fucking better.”

"Jesus Christ." He curses under his breath. The sight of you touching yourself, fucking yourself on him, god it was enough to make him see heaven. He reaches down, his hand covering yours, pressing down harder as his hips begin to move, matching your rhythm. "So fucking pretty for me. Look at you go. Look at you taking it.” Your mouth parts, sweet little sounds coming out needy and desperate. Pathetic really. “Can I cum Eddie? Can I?” If you’d have told him at the beginning of the night that he’d end up here, with you begging to cum on his cock without him even pushing you to, he’d tell you to fuck off. Because there was no way in hell you’d ever stoop so low. But hell, was he glad you did.

He laughs in disbelief, his breath coming in short pants as he watches you writhe beneath him, utterly lost in pleasure, begging for it, for him. “Are you seriously asking permission right now?" He teases, hips never stopping their relentless grind against yours. "Fuck yes, cum for me. Never need my permission baby, you cum whenever you fucking want, however many times you want.” You sigh with relief, hand speeding up against your clit, his mouth comes crashing down against yours, hands squeezing at your hips. He kisses you till you can’t kiss back anymore. Till you can only moan and yell, and cum loudly, pussy squeezing him half to death. And when he spills, he spills hard, so hard he’s seeing white spots, head hazy, body engulfed in your flames.

You’re breathless, both run ragged. Trying hard to calm the racing beating of your hearts but to no avail. He collapses into you and you only hold him tighter, face buried in his neck, his hair drifting over you like a curtain and you don’t even care, too wrecked to give a damn but he does. He moves it away. He strokes your cheek, kissing it, soft, sweet, gentle blessings dotted across your face as he comes to. “Baby girl.” His hips shift a little, stirring his finish inside you, just checking it really happened, it really was in there, and it was. “You okay?” He pulls back to catch your eyes. Your makeup is a fucking state. mascara smudged, eyeliner gone entirely. “Define okay.” He smirks at your response, running his fingers through your hair to push it away from your face, better to see the mess he made of you. "I think I can answer that." He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Breathing, cracking jokes, looking at me like you wanna kiss me.” He pecks your lips again. “All signs of life are there.”

“Think I need the opinion of an actual medical professional.” Worry flickers over his face. “You serious?" He laughs softly, pulling back to look at you better, taking in your swollen lips, messy hair, red cheeks. "You feeling sick?" He asks seriously now. "Actual nausea? Headache?" He throws himself off the bed, ready to find his boxers and t-shirt. You whine at the loss of him inside you far too soon. “No, Jesus, come back. I was kidding.”

"Don't joke about shit like that." He crawls back on top of you, pressing his body against yours. "You're okay, right? Nothing hurts?" Your lips twitch into a smile. “Nothing hurts. You gave it your best go though.” He snorts, rubbing his face, his eye in particular. “Yeah well, gifted.” You shove him, playfully. “Where were you gonna go in boxers and a t-shirt hmm? Who were you tracking down like that without a car Ed?” Despite you making fun of him the only part he really focuses on is “Ed.” Sounds so pretty from your mouth.

He strokes his thumb over your bottom lip. He ignores the question, "say it again." He murmurs, leaning in closer. "Say my name." He whispers, his nose nudging yours. "Please?" He asks softly. “Not even listening to me are you?” You trace messy little patterns across his shoulder blades. “No ma’am. Not really." He admits. "You called me 'Ed' and fucked me up." He confesses, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. "I like it." He mumbles. "I really like it." He pecks your neck. “Kinda pathetic Ed.” He squeezes you, smiling, lips catching your neck. “I can live with pathetic. Try besotted even.” He pulls from you to catch your eyes. “Besotted already? Should I be worried?”

"Maybe." He grins mischievously, his hips shifting slightly, making you suck in a breath. "Answer a question honestly." He speaks softly. His fingers carding through your hair again and again. "No bullshit." He adds. "No snark." He smirks. “No promises.” You respond, his face falls. “Fine, whatever. Go on.” He rolls his eyes, trying to hide the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Really fucking helpful." He mutters but presses on anyway. “Truth time. You think I'm annoying as hell, right? Like, offensively annoying?" You nod. “Incredibly so yeah.” He laughs softly, his body relaxing. "Honest answers. God bless." He hesitates. “Would you get to the point?” He nods, plodding on. “Too annoying for a second date?”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You wanna see me again?” He blinks at you like you were speaking a different language. "Duh." He says, his face deadpan for all of a second before he's grinning again, his lips pressing against yours. "Gimme your number." He commands softly, breath fanning across your mouth. "Let me take you out. Do this shit right. Maybe not turn up late this time.” You pretend to ponder it for a moment. You pretty much decided you liked him from the second he kissed you, even if it was one of the worst first kisses you’d ever had. Because when the second one came around, stealing your breath like it was nothing, yeah, you knew alright. “I’m so down for that.”

He grins widely, a playful glint in his eye as he leans in, his lips barely brushing yours. “Well, well, well, looks like I finally managed to impress a girl without fucking it up royally." He teases, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips gently. “Congratulations.” You whisper against his mouth; it does funny little things to him. His heart skips a beat at the sound of your voice so close, so soft and sweet for him. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and before he can stop himself, he's smiling against your lips, a sweet, lazy smile that speaks volumes of the affection he's beginning to feel. “Think I’m in trouble here.” You kiss him gently. “Think I’m right there with you.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #eddie munson stranger things

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casscainmainly · 8 months ago

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My Top 10 Batgirl (2000) Moments

This is my list of top 10 Batgirl (2000) moments!! There were so many to choose from, but these are my personal favs :)). Counting down from 10 to my absolute favourite.

10. Volving

An absolute classic. Perfectly encapsulates what Cass does throughout the entire run, and more writers should play with Cass' use of language like this!

9. Beat Up Every Mob In Gotham

Perfect encapsulation of the early Barbara-Cass dynamic, and one of the funniest moments in the series. Just love the expressions and the way this shows so much of Cass' character.

8. Choosing to Write

The entirety of issue #2 builds up to this heart-wrenching moment. After delivering a dead man's final message to his wife, Cass sees the wife's reaction to the written message and decides to learn to write. A foundational moment for her character, and a nice motherly Babs scene too.

7. Alpha Redemption

Capping off issues 35 + 36, Batgirl unmasks herself to convince Alpha (an amnesiac villain) that he doesn't have to be defined by his past. Brilliantly displays her core belief that people can change, and the fact that her belief pays off makes this moment extremely moving.

6. For God's Sake

Possibly a controversial pick, but I really like this moment because it underscores some of the fundamental conflict between Babs and Cass. They love each other, but they don't always understand each other, particularly in regards to each other's disabilities. A painful moment that should have been explored more.

5. Fight For Your Life

My favourite Stephanie and Cass moment in this run. You can feel Cass' grief throughout this hallucination, but there's also so much hope and love (for Stephanie and for herself). It's an amazing conclusion to Cass' initial suicidal tendencies: instead of desiring death, she now actively fights to live.

4. Darknight Detectives

This interaction sums up a lot of Bruce and Cass' best moments. Cass' unwavering moral beliefs, Bruce's pride, their instinctive understanding of each other; they just get each other in a way few others do. I picked this one instead of the 'instinct/good answer' moment because it also marks Cass' development in her detective ability. From Moment 8 above to here, the confidence in her mental capacities has grown so much. She really volved!

3. Perfect For A Year

I mean of course this had to be here. These lines literally take up 90% of my brain space, it's an incredibly tense moment that illustrates Cass' desire to be perfect, her need to be useful and good. This issue is also just awesome.

2. You're... Not

Another absolute classic. Illustrates Cass' compassion and her belief that people aren't defined by their lineage, which is particularly personal to her, given her own dad. This struggle between good/bad, parent/child defines many of Cass' best stories.

1. Who Do You Think You Are? + Father's Day

What else would number 1 be?? Issue 33 is my favourite in the entire run, and the entire thing is stacked with moments that could fill up this list. I just love 'who do you think you are' because it's all of Cass' rage spilling out, and yet she still loves David Cain in her own complicated way (and he reciprocates, too). Then we have the ending, which is the BEST Bruce and Cass moment ever. The sparse, meaningful dialogue, the expressions, the reveal of the TITLE: comic book writing at its finest.

Honorary mention to the Shiva/Cass fight, which just narrowly missed out.

#cassandra cain #batman #batgirl #everyone should read batgirl (2000) right now #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #bruce wayne

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truth4ourfreedom · 5 months ago

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BIG PHARMA IS KILLING US BY KEEPING US SICK!!!!!

If you only have 3 minutes to watch Tucker Carlson’s show today, this is the 3 minutes you need to see.

The pharma treadmill is making everyone sick, and you won’t believe how bad it is until you see these stats:

Autism rates in kids are 1 in 36 nationally, compared to 1 in 1500 in the not-so-distant past.

In California, it's even worse: Autism rates are 1 in 22.

74% of American adults are overweight or obese.

Close to 50% of children are overweight or obese.

50% of American adults have prediabetes or type 2 diabetes.

30% of teens now have prediabetes.

Infertility is increasing by 1% per year.

Sperm counts are decreasing by 1% per year since the 1970s.

Young adult cancers are up 79%.

What's causing all this? It's simple: “Our TOXIC food system and our TOXIC environment.”

@CaseyMeansMD explains:

“The thing that people need to understand is that all of these conditions are caused or driven by the exact same thing, which is metabolic dysfunction. This core foundational issue of how our bodies on the cellular level function, which is driven by our toxic food system and our toxic environment.

“These subtle, insidious forces that are creating slow progressive illness, starting now in fetal life, that allow patients to be profitable and on the pharma treadmill for their entire lives. They make us sick, but they don't kill us. And then we are drugged for life."

#the great awakening #government corruption #world economic forum #wef #fjb #joe biden #democrats #illegal immigration #bill gates #donald trump #big pharma #wake up america #cancer rates

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faun-the-fawn77 · 9 months ago

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"𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃"

Lucifer Morningstar x F!FallenAngel!Reader

Genre: SMUT

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: oral(m! receiving), creampie, breeding, mentions of having kids, clit play, overstimulation, squirting, brief fingering, whipped!Lucifer, Lucifer being a sweetheart, reader is horny 25/8

Desc: A one night stand is a one night stand... right? What happens when Lucifer keeps going back to the same fallen angel just for a taste of Heaven? Oh no... seems the Devil has caught feelings once again!

Note: Lucifer smut;) like there isn't enough already. Requests are open now! This is third and final fic of the votes. Don't worry to those who voted for others! I will be working on all those fics:) Next after this one is a part two to "Lips Of An Angel". Just have to...find a song that will match the part two:)

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Another shitty day in Hell. Sinners were offing each other in the streets of the Pride Ring. The angelic building in the middle of the city shone brightly in the red light, the clock on each side had big letters reading ‘36 DAYS’.

Lucifer, King of Hell himself, wandered the streets of Cannibal town, a mission in his mind. He tried to avoid Rosie ‘cause she’s a talker and would only make him late for where he needed to go after getting the thing he came to this lovely town for. He scoured the shops looking for the one thing that stood out to him last time he was here. It reminded him so much of Her. Of the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind.

“Well, hello to our dear king! How are you on this hellish evening?” Lucifer growled lowly at the sound of that radio prick's voice. He turned to the red deer demon and pulled him down by his collar.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your theatrics today. I have places to be and things to get and I don’t need some lowlife sinner messing that up for me,” Lucifer let go of the demon’s coat and strided off to the jewelry shop he spotted out of the corner of his eye, waving behind to the overlord, “Hope you have a bad day!”

Later that evening, Lucifer turned up at his daughter’s hotel. He always came under the guise of seeing his daughter but everyone knew he came for one particular guest of his daughters. Knocking on the giant doors, he waited ‘till either his daughter or the deer prick opened up.

The doors opened a few minutes later and Lucifer was greeted by, thankfully, his daughter’s voice, “Oh! Back again, dad? But I jus-”

“Charlie! You know I’m always here to see you! I just missed you so much that I couldn’t wait a few days!” Lucifer walked in and hugged his daughter. Vaggie stood off to the side, peering out the door for any dangers.

Charlie gasped before smiling nervously and patted her dad’s back. She pulled away and held him by the shoulders.

“Dad, you know I love when you visit. We all do! But uh- Everyone, especially Angel, has noticed that you only come here for a certain someone…” Charlie trailed off. Lucifer stood there silently and blinked slowly, almost frog-like.

“Ah…” He didn’t know what to say. Was he that obvious? The weight in his suit pocket seemed to weigh down on him immensely. He gripped the apple on his cane tightly.

“Is she here?” Charlie smiled. She wanted her dad to be happy. After her mom had left them, her dad was in a slump. She checked up on him as much as she could but she could tell he wasn’t getting any better. After finding Y/N, a fallen angel just like her father, Charlie brought her with to her family home in hopes of them becoming friends. After that, Lucifer has been stopping by more than he used to. Charlie thought it was because they were good friends but after what Angel told the group last time…Charlie knew her father had fallen once again and this time harder than he fell for Lilith.

“She’s here. Last I spoke with her, she was working on a secret project. She wouldn’t tell me what it was.” Lucifer looked about ready to bounce off the walls of the hotel lobby.

“Well I’ll just uh- yeah…” Lucifer ran off towards the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He rocked on his heels as the lift made its way up to the top. He stuck his clawed left hand into his suit pocket and clutched the velvet box.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” Y/N’s voice was like smooth silk. It calmed Lucifer’s nerves down, the breath stuck in his throat was exhaled as he stepped foot into his…friend’s penthouse. He wouldn’t call her friend with the amount of times they’ve gotten intimate but, he didn’t know what else to call it.

“Hello, darling. How is your night going?” Lucifer plopped a seat on the sofa in her living room. He watched as she rounded the island in her kitchen, holding a cup of coffee and wearing nothing but a white silk robe.

“I’m doing wonderfully, Luci. What prompted the visit?” She folded her legs as she sat on the other end of the sofa. Lucifer cleared his throat and shifted his legs. The robe was a bit see-through which made her breasts very noticeable to him.

“Just wanted to see you…” Y/N smiled cheekily. She knew what she was doing to him. With the way she sat to what she was wearing, Lucifer couldn’t believe he had this much self-control to not jump on her.

“Is that all?” Lucifer gulped. He shifted in his seat once again and gazed away from Y/N’s intense stare. Her eyes darkened with lust as she continued to stare right at him.

“What do you actually want, Luci?” She placed her mug down, sliding her bottom over and closer to her partner. She watched him cross his legs and grip the arm of the sofa.

“Come on, Luci. Tell me what you desire~” She ran a hand up his arm and over his chest. Lucifer watched with bated breath as she undid his bowtie and slipped the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Her fingers snuck under the shirt and touched all over his pale chest.

“Luciiii~” Lucifer felt the last thin thread snap at the tone of her voice. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the couch. He roughly kissed her and made sure to slide his forked tongue between her lips and into her mouth. He heard her moan and felt her hands run up his arms and into his hair.

Lucifer pulled away with a dazed look in his red eyes. He was straddling her lap, his erection pushing painfully against his suit pants.

“Need help with that?” Lucifer sat back as Y/N leaned over him, running her hands from his hair, down his semi-exposed chest, and to his tightened pants. She undid his black belt and slipped it from his pants. She popped the button on his pants and unzipped the zipper.

“Please…” Lucifer whined. Y/N looked up at him and smirked. She made sure to go slow when she pulled his pants down his legs. Her knees hit the carpeted floor when his pants did. Her soft hands slid from his ankles and all the way up to his boxers elastic.

“Be patient, Luci.”

“God, I’m addicted…” Lucifer mumbled. He was very addicted to her. To all the things she does to him both in and out of the sheets.

Y/N hummed and brought her mouth closer towards his erection. Her breath fanned across the dampened tip and she quickly tore through his duck-printed boxers. The shreds of fabric fell to the carpet.

“Oh, Luci…” She licked a stripe up from his balls to tip. Lucifer moaned loudly and rushed to cover his mouth. Y/N laughed, pulling his hand from his mouth.

“You can be as loud as you want, my dear. No one can hear us.” With that, she took the tip of his dick into her hot mouth. Lucifer gripped the sofa, tearing streaks into it with his claws. His breathing became laboured as Y/N made work on his cock. She swirled her tongue around the tip, her hand coming up and wrapping around the base. She wanted to antagonise him. Make him want her.

“Oh my Lord, please! Please do something…” Lucifer could feel his patience run thin. Patience was definitely not one of his virtues, if he had any left.

Y/N hummed. She removed her hand and placed both of them on his thighs, bracing herself, before taking him whole.

“OH, Y/N/N! Plea~ah,” Lucifer moaned. He bucked his hips up into her mouth and down her throat. He wanted to feel guilty but he was so into the pleasure that she was giving him. Her nails dug into his thighs, her moans vibrated down his length which caused him to gag her once again.

“I-I’m sorry! You just-hah-you just are so good,” Lucifer praised. She may have been an angel but by God was her mouth sinful.

Ohh, girl, let’s take it slow

So as for you, well, you know where to go

I wanna take my love and hate you ‘til the end

It’s not like you to turn away

From all the bullshit I can’t take

It’s not like me to walk away

It’s been a few days since Lucifer has been intimate with his partner. His friends with benefits as he has learned from Angel Dust. He was scared. Every time they’ve gotten intimate, Lucifer was on the verge of telling her he loves her. It took all it had in him to not shout it when he came.

“Oh, Rosie. I don’t know what to do!” Lucifer plonked his head on the table face first. His glass of whiskey shook at the action.

Rosie, the one who made sure the cannibals in her town stayed in check, patted her king on his head. She smiled down at the fallen angel and watched as he mumbled to himself.

“Honey, if you don’t tell her how you feel, then how is she supposed to know you feel this way? What if someone else sweeps her off her feet? She is nothing like that ex of yours, ya know.” Lucifer grumbled. He knew she wasn’t like Lilith. Lilith was a cold-hearted bitch who cared about no one but herself.

“I’m trying to take it slow.”

“Is having a one night stand and then becoming friends with benefits ‘taking it slow’?” Lucifer glared at the smiling cannibal. She was right and he knew it. He sighed and dug into his pocket. He brought out the velvet box and slid it over to his friend.

“I wanted to give her this when I confessed… I don’t know if it’s too much…” Rosie gently took the box and opened it. She gasped when she saw what it was.

“Lucifer! This is gorgeous! I’m sure she’ll love it, honey.” Lucifer felt his shoulders sag with relief. The piece in the velvet box was beautiful. It was a silver ring detailed with leaves. Deer antlers were what held the moss agate stone in the middle. He learned from Husk and Angel that she only wore silver jewellery and that her favourite stone was moss agate. It may not have been the most expensive but he wanted it to come from the heart and not from his wealth.

“I know she will. I just…I hate how much I love her. It’s suffocating with her not knowing.” Lucifer was still scared. Scared that she’d walk away and leave everything they’ve built behind. Just like Lilith. He knew it wasn’t like Y/N to turn away. He knew because he’d attend some of those silly exercises his daughter hosted.

“Tell her. Let her know and don’t bullshit your way outta this.” Rosie slid the ring back to Lucifer. She watched as he breathed in deeply, pocketed the box, and made his way to the door to her shop.

“I won’t walk away from her. Not like I did to Lilith.” With that, Lucifer exited the shop and made his way to the hotel.

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Yeah

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite king! How are you today, my dear?” Lucifer had arrived at Y/N’s place in seconds flat after leaving Rosies. He had spider lilies in one hand and a stuffed black cat in the other. Both being her favourite things she’s seen in Hell.

“Good! I just wanted to have a chat with you. Hangout for a bit after all the paperwork I did this morning.” Lucifer watched her eyes light up at the sight of the flowers and stuffie. She grabbed them from his hands and raced to get the flowers in some water. She placed the stuffed cat on her loveseat near her bookshelf.

Lucifer stepped out of the lift and slowly walked towards the kitchen of her penthouse. Y/N was humming as she cut the bottoms of the flowers and placed them in the black vase. Her fingers were nimble and held the flowers delicately to ensure they didn't get damaged.

“What did you want to talk about, sweetheart?” Lucifer took a seat at the island, snatching an apple from the basket of fruit in the centre.

“Nothing important… uhm, how was your day?” Lucifer was nervous. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t drop the L-bomb on her. She was too important to him to lose.

“It was amazing! Your daughter is such a sweetie! She’s helped me adjust to life in Hell wonderfully. I wish I could pay her back somehow…” Lucifer looked at the angel. This angel was of pure heart and faith. He knew Y/N was still struggling with being in Hell. He knew because he could see the way she hid behind his daughter when they went out or when she would quote from the bible only to grow embarrassed when the others looked at her in confusion.

“She is a sweetie, isn’t she? I’m glad you’re adjusting to Hell. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while you’re here.” Lucifer bit into the apple. Y/N watched as the juice dripped from his chin. She licked her lips, walking towards the island and having a seat on the stool near Lucifer.

Lucifer continued to munch on the apple, not noticing Y/N’s hand creeping towards his thigh. When she made contact, Lucifer jumped and choked on a bit of the sweet fruit.

“Surely you didn’t come here just to talk.” Lucifer felt flushed. He cleared his throat and set the apple core down.

“I promise it was only just to talk. I know I said it was nothing important but-”

“Shh, Luci. I can see how tense your shoulders are. Why don’t I-”

Lucifer stood up abruptly causing Y/N’s hand to fall from his lap. He stepped back and sucked in a breath. He reached into his pocket and produced the black velvet box for Y/N to see. He could see the confusion in her eyes.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much that the thought of you not knowing was suffocating me. I know it only started out as us being friends and delving into a one night stand that then turned us into friends with benefits. After a while, it wasn’t just the sex for me. I wanted all of you. Heart, body, mind, and soul. I wanted to feel what it was like for you to love me for me and not for my body. I hope this doesn’t scare you off but I wanted you to know how I feel about you.” Lucifer finished up and placed the small box in front of her. He was sweating profusely and his hands gripped the apple on his cane tightly. He watched as Y/N lifted the box up gently and opened it. Her eyes glittered and he swore he saw tears in her eyes.

“Luci…” Her breath was airy. Like he took her breath away.

“Luci, thank you. No one has done this much for me since I’ve been created. You don’t have to be scared ‘cause I love you just as much.” Lucifer could cry. She felt the same! He smiled brightly and bounded up to the tall angel and hugged her tightly.

“Oh my Hell! I could bounce off these walls in happiness! Oh, I love you so much, my angel!” Lucifer could feel the vibrations of her laugh. She hugged him back just as tightly, the ring he gave her glittering on her right hand.

“Thank you for accepting me, Y/N/N,” Lucifer mumbled into her breasts. He felt her fingers run through his golden locks as she hummed.

“No need to thank me, honey. I love you so very much.”

…

“Let’s head to the bedroom. I need to get this energy out~”

And I know when it’s getting rough

All the times we spend

Trying to make this love something better than

Just making up again

It’s not like you to turn away

All the bullshit I can’t take

Just when I think I can walk away

They’ve only had a few fights but they were only about Lucifer's work. He was the king and every time he went to sign off on a meeting paper to say he wouldn’t be able to make it, Y/N scolded him and told him he needed to go or the residents of the seven rings of hell won’t take him seriously anymore.

She was right. Every time they went out on a date, Lucifer could hear the whispers and snickering. He was gone for years when Lilith left and everyone had assumed that he was gone. Now that he’s back and appearing more in the public eye, the sinners in Pride casted snide remarks his way.

“Honey, a letter just came in from Ozzie. Have you always had a family dinner every month with the seven sins and Charlie?” Lucifer paled at the mention of the dinner. He hasn’t been to one since Lilith left him. Charlie had tried to get him to go a couple times only for him to turn her down and go back to wallowing in his sadness.

“Uh- yes… yes we do. Ozzie was the one that actually wanted it to happen.” Lucifer bounced his knee nervously. Y/N hummed and made his way into the study and up to his desk. She set down the letter and looked down at him.

“How about we go? Ozzie seems to want to meet me and to introduce us to that little imp of his. This’ll be good for you! We can see family and maybe we could invite the residents of the hotel? Have the sins come from their rings and hang out in Pride?” Y/N has been encouraging him to get back into contact with his family since they’ve gotten together. Seemed she was very family oriented. I mean, she had always had him finish inside her whenever they were intimate. He had a sense that she wanted kids but she hasn’t said anything to him yet.

“Fine. How about you write the letter back to Ozzie. Have him send out a message to the others that we’ll be having the dinner at our place. I’ll fly over to the hotel and inform Charlie.” Y/N squeaked and pulled a blank paper from her lover’s pile of papers on the desk. She produced a quill with the snap of her fingers and wrote out the letter. Lucifer was happy that she was excited to meet his family. Every time they had the petty arguments about his work and paperwork, she would ignore him ‘til she got too horny and then seduced him into bed. He didn’t want this love to be about fighting and making up with sex. He wanted it to be more than that,

“I told him that we’ll have the dinner this Friday! Make sure you mention to Charlie that I invited everyone from the hotel to be there!” Lucifer smiled as she leaned down to kiss his rosy cheek. She bounced off to who-knows-where while Lucifer sat back in his desk chair and sighed. He had to talk to her.

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to

The things you do

When you’re going down on me

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Yeah

When you’re loving me

“Oh fuck! Lucifer, right there!” The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and ragged breathing. Lucifer was pounding mercilessly into his lover’s pussy. He watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as his dick hit just the right spot inside her. Her moans echoed off the walls, her hands clenching the silk sheets beneath her.

“Come on, baby. You have one more in you, don’t ya?” Lucifer groaned out into her ear. His stomach tightened when he felt her clench at his words. He smirked and brought a clawed hand to her pussy. His pointer and middle finger rubbing circles on her clit. She moaned loudly at the contact before she started to shake as her orgasm crashed through her. Juices squirted from her dripping pussy and coated his lower abdomen and thighs.

“Oh fucking hell…” Lucifer moaned. His dick throbbed and he finally came into her clenching hole. His seed spilled out while he was still in her and when he pulled out he made sure to take his fingers, scoop up the mess, and push it back into her. Y/N moaned and tried to push his hand away only for him to grab it and shush her.

“It’s okay, honey. Just wanna make sure it takes…” Lucifer held still inside of her and when she calmed her breathing down, he made ‘come hither’ motions. She squeaked out and tried to squirm away only for Lucifer to pin her down.

“One more. One more time, sweetheart. I need to make sure it takes,” Lucifer whispered. He leaned up and over her, pulling his fingers from her pussy and replacing it with his hardened dick. He saw her eyes tear up from overstimulation. He kissed her lips, holding onto her hips and slowly drove his hips into hers.

“That’s it, sweetie. You can take it. I got you.” Lucifer whispered sweet nothings into her ear as he began to pick up his pace. His grip tightened on her hips when her pussy clenched around him. He moaned out, dropping his head onto her breasts.

“I’m c-close, Luci! Please!” Lucifer thrusted his hips faster, making sure to hit the spot that made her see stars. Her eyes clenched shut and her hips moved to meet his hips. Her moans grew louder as her orgasm grew closer.

“Oh, Hell…” Lucifer almost whined when Y/N tightened around his length, her moans loud as she shuddered. Her orgasm hit her full force, her pussy squirting out juices once again. Lucifer sped up until he finally released another load into her abused hole.

“I want you to be a mama. Charlie already loves you, why not have another?” Lucifer mumbled. He dropped down on top of her, his dick still in her to keep his load inside to make sure it takes.

Y/N ran her fingers through his messy hair and smiled down at him. He was such a softie for kids. Whenever they would visit the other rings, Y/N made sure they at least went to the circuses that were held that day to support the kids.

“I love you, Luci.”

Lucifer snuggled into her more and murmured out tiredly, “I love you most.”

How can I make it through

All the things you do

There’s just gotta be more to you and me

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to you

Addicted to you

WOOOO SECOND LUCI FIC!!! Hope I did him justice:')

Enjoy!!

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 6 months ago

Text

Wonderwall

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 4,550 Summary: Your ex boyfriend Simon is marrying Sabrina, the woman he left you for. You were sure you'd have have a date in time for his wedding... too bad you were wrong. Once again. your best friend Maria has to save the day by letting you use her handsome, single brother-in-law that owes her a favor as your date. Warnings: fluff, idk what's going on with me but there's so much fluff, soft joel, fake wedding date, rom com vibes, crying over a broken vibrator, no outbreak, maria and tommy are married, sarah and kevin live, british ex boyfriend, reader and joel are close in age (reader is 36, joel is 40), alcohol, i know the gif is marcus pike but i can't stop seeing young joel in this gif, anyways here's wonderwall, no use of y/n, not beta read

A/N: This was written for @justagalwhowrites' Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. Thank you to the always wonderful @ohheypedrito for suggesting the fake dating trope when I asked her what to write.

Masterlist

Fizzy mimosas, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and sweet maple syrup. Brunch on Sundays with Maria has been a long standing tradition for the two of you. Fifteen years of friendship kept stronger by always promising to make time for each other no matter what is going on in your lives.

These days, Maria’s raising a toddler while building a very successful career in the Austin district attorney's office whereas last night you cried over your vibrator dying while trying to pull an orgasm out of you for an endorphin rush. God knows you need one.

You’ve been in a hole since the arrival of Simon’s wedding invitation. The man you spent your most youthful and fulfilling years with is now marrying Sabrina, the beautiful co-worker he crashed your relationship for. Yeah, yeah, your twenty year partnership was already headed for the cliff, but her perky tits and pouty lips sure did speed up the demise.

“So, Simon’s wedding is next weekend, how do you feel?” Maria interrogates from across the table.

“Fine!” you stuff a pancake triangle into your mouth. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”

“Mm,” she lifts a skeptical eyebrow. Why do you lie to her? She makes three figures locking away liars, she can spot them a mile away. “Let me guess, you still don’t have a date?”

“Ugh, no, why did I mark two on the RSVP?”

“I told you not to,” Maria shakes her head

“Yeah, but, I-I want to show him I’m doing great without him.”

“Babe,” Maria grabs your hand and squeezes it, “I say this with all the love in my heart… you’re not doing great.”

“I knoooow!” you sigh, closing your eyes. “I just thought… I’d show up in my pretty dress with a hot man on my arm and show Simon I’m happy and fulfilled without his love.”

“But you don’t ha–”

“Please, I know. I just– I’m happy for him in some really odd way but I also want to be… happy for myself.”

“Okay,” she nods before taking a deep breath, “here’s what I’m going to do for you. You know Joel?”

“Your… brother-in-law?”

“Yes, he owes me a favor, soooo, he’s going to be your date,” she sits back folding her arms across her chest with a smug smirk. “He’s handsome as hell and a good man but he’s very quiet and intimidating to those who don’t know him. He’s perfect for this situation.”

You do know Joel… just not very well at all. There have been random run-ins at Miller family parties, but nothing more than a quick “hello” and “how are you?” exchanged between the two of you. He seems the opposite of your Dartmouth educated, polo playing yuppie of an ex. “Yoo hoo,” Maria waves her hand in front of your face catching your attention. “Does that work for you?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I think… it does,” a relieved smile lifts your face.

Maria has, once again, fixed your problem.

—-

RING… RING… RING…

Your fingers nervously tap against the countertop. “Come on, pick uuup, pick uuuup, pick uuu–”

“Miller,” a deep voice answers.

“H-Hi, uh, Joel?” You feel a third your age, like you’re right back in middle school calling the cute boy in your science class because your friend dared you.

“Speaking.”

“Hey, uh, you’re my wedding date? Maria… she gave me your number so we can plan?”

“Oh, yes,” his voice softens. “Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, uh… I think it might be good to go over a story for us before the big day.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “I’m all ears.”

—-

Your eyes roam down your notes from the call. “So, we formally met at Kevin’s graduation party. I call you ‘honey’, our first date was to a movie and then to pizza. We’ve been together for a little over a year. You hate sushi and love tamales. You don’t like water slides. You play the guitar. You have a daughter named Sarah who’s a senior in high school. You own a construction company with Tommy… I think that’s about right?”

"Believe so," the bass of his quiet voice causes goosebumps to pebble your skin. If he's doing this to you over the phone, what will the wedding be like?

"Okay," you settle against your sofa, "and for me?"

Papers shuffle before Joel clears his throat. “Hm, okay. I asked Tommy for your number after Kevin’s graduation party. You work at an insurance company, but you dream of owning your own bookstore one day. You love mashed potatoes. I call you 'baby.' Your favorite color is bronze. You’re a night owl forced to be an early bird. You love Taylor Swift unapologetically. You like staying over at my home because your favorite coffee place delivers to my house.”

“Perfect. I know this is totally weird and all, but, thanks for doing this. Sometimes I allow my pride to sabotage me... and Maria has to come in and save me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Thanks again Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice feels you with warmth. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.”

“Yes, Saturday. Until then, have a good week.”

“You too.”

After saying goodbye, you hang up with a plume of butterflies in your stomach.

—

“Okay! Get ready!” you shout from behind your bathroom door.

Your Sunday brunch date with Maria has been moved up to a Saturday afternoon primping and preening spree in your home as she helps you get ready to watch the once love of your life marry someone else.

You step out of the bathroom to find Maria sitting cross-legged on your bed. As soon as she sees you, she leans forward with wide eyes.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "I mean, seriously, wow."

"Really?" you ask, giving a twirl in your mauve dress, adorned with a delicate print of sequined flowers blooming across the bodice.

“Really,” her eyebrow angles as she nods, “I can’t wait for Miller to have to deal with keeping his cool around you.”

“What?”

Maria just smiles, “Let’s just say, you look hot, that’s all I’m going to say.”

___

A shiny black truck pulls into your driveway. Panic jolts through you as you watch the door swing open from your front window. Out steps Joel Miller, impeccably dressed in a black suit. Oh good lord–he’s your date. Like, date date, as in the guy you’re going to be spending the rest of the night with. The anxiety over Simon and Sabrina’s wedding fades into the background, replaced by the overwhelming challenge of maintaining your composure in the presence of someone who looks that stunning in a tuxedo.

The doorbell rings.

Okay, okay, you got this.

A gust of pleasant autumn air hits your skin when you open the door. Oh good LORD, he looks incredible. His hair is longer than you remember, falling in gentle waves you dream of running your fingers through. His beard is neatly trimmed, though slightly patchy with a strong mustache that frames his plush lips. He has a shy smile, his dimple makes a divot you want to press your finger into. His simple black suit stretches around his obviously toned and broad shoulders.

“Hi, it’s uh, nice to see you again. Come on in,” you say, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

“Course,” he replies, striding in past you. His hand twitches nervously when he turns and takes how you look fully in. “You look– y’look beautiful.”

A flush of warmth spreads through you at the compliment from the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, now standing in the middle of your living room.

“Oh, thanks, uh, it’s not every day your ex boyfriend of twenty years gets married to the woman he left you for… so I guess I needed to show off.”

“It’s–yeah–good,” he stammers, his eyes darting around the room, clearly avoiding your gaze.

“Well, uh, I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my bag, then we can get going. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.”

As you head down the hall to get your things, you hear him let out a long sigh.

Don’t worry dude, I get it. It’s going to be a long night.

“So, um, I know, this is awkward,” you say, returning to the living room and dropping your shoes on the floor, “but I’m really grateful to you.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your couch. “S’alright. I can’t say no to a free meal and open bar.”

“If I still know Simon’s taste, it’ll be a top-notch open bar too,” you muse, slipping into your high heel and bending over to fasten the buckle.

You glance up when you hear Joel’s breath catch. He’s staring intently at you–more specifically, at your exposed leg and thigh, courtesy of the high slit in your dress.

You really had to pick the dress that Maria dubbed “the revenge dress,” didn’t you? He clears his throat and quickly averts his gaze, but the charged atmosphere lingers. You try to ignore it, buckle your other shoe and grab your clutch.

“Ready?” you ask.

“I am," he replies, standing up and adjusting his neck tie, a hint of color warms his cheeks. .

—-

Joel’s truck looks quite out of place pulling into the Hurts Family’s grand estate. Of course Simon’s getting married at Father & Mother’s sprawling manor. You can’t help but wonder if the altar and ceremony will be located in the same conservatory you and Simon lost your virginity to each other in.

The whole drive over, you and Joel practiced your spiels, all the while you tried to ignore the waves of attraction that vibrated between you and him in the small cab of his truck.

He pulls up to the valet and reluctantly hands his keys over to the college aged kid before hurrying over to your door, cutting in front of the doorman to help you down. What a gentleman.

Soft violin music floats through the air and white flower petals line the walkway leading into the massive estate that once felt like your second home. A nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind that you’re about to live what should’ve been your wedding day.

You breathe out deeply, Joel grabs your hand as he guides you into the house.

People mingle, some you don’t know, many you do. Aunt Billie, Uncle Martin, the cousins from Manchester, Simon’s favorite professor. Familiar faces surround you, what the hell were you thinking this would be okay?

You’ve known this home since you were twelve, Simon showed up in your seventh grade algebra class, a new student with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, you thought he was the prettiest boy you had ever seen, even before he spoke… the British accent would’ve been enough to sweep you off your feet. It took a couple years of friendship before you both admitted your crushes on each other, the confessions happened in the movie room, just down the hallway you stand near.

Love is fleeting, love is hopeless. You’ve learned to care for yourself like Simon once cared for you, but now in this home you used to sneak into, you feel just as alone as you did the day you moved out of the house you shared with him for a decade just two streets down from here.

“Hey, you okay?” Joel leans in and whispers. “Squeezin’ my hand mighty hard.”

“Oh,” you blink, refocusing on him, “I am, it’s just… really bizarre and everything. Seeing so many familiar people I haven't seen in years feels strange.”

“You’re doing good, I got you,” he says, letting go of your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding you farther into the mansion.

___

The impressive altar stands in the conservatory–you know your ex well– this windowed dwelling means everything to him. Everywhere you look, peach and champagne flowers are nestled among lush green foliage. You and Joel settle eight rows back on the groom's side, just a few feet from the bench you lost your virginity on. Jamie, Simon’s friend from college, sends you a kind smile when you sit next to him.

Your foot taps nervously against the stone tile, keeping rhythm with the soft string music lilting through the air. You take a deep breath to center yourself as the processional begins. The family minister you’ve known since you were fifteen leads the way then–Simon. Still just as handsome, in that specific pretty way that drew you to him as a teenager. The slight waves of his dark blonde hair are more controlled and slicked back. His slender body is topped by wide shoulders from all his years of playing polo. His equally handsome brother Liam follows, along with a handful of friends you used to consider your own.

Joel’s arm wraps around you as Simon takes his place at the altar, his fingers resting firmly on your bare shoulder just in time for the bridal procession to begin. Everybody takes their rightful places waiting for the bride. Simon stands at the altar, laser focused on the doorway, oddly, you feel a sense of happiness for him. Maybe you feel less lonely with the comfort of Joel’s strong arm around you, maybe you’re just caught up in the emotions of the day.

As you expected, Lia and Ewan, Simon’s niece and nephew, are the ring bearer and flower girl. You were at the hospital when both of them were born. You taught both of them how to swim. They used to call you their aunt.

The small orchestra begins playing “The Wedding March,” the audience stands in anticipation of Sabrina’s entrance. The curtains part and she appears shimmering down the aisle in her ivory dress. Okay, you have to admit, she looks gorgeous. Joel pulls you closer, his hand rests against your hip as Sabrina and her father pass your row. You’re grateful for his presence, even if it’s just a comforting distraction that just happens to be pretend.

The look on Simon’s face is unmistakable when he takes Sabrina’s hand–it’s the same look he would give you whenever he told you loved you all those thousands upon thousands of times.

You take your seat, Joel’s hand finds your shoulder once more. It’s going to be damn hard to concentrate on the ceremony.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.

—

You survive the ceremony… thanks to Joel and his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder. As Simon and Sabrina lead the recessional out of the conservatory, Simon spots you and sends you a knowing wink and smile when he spots Joel next to you. Maybe it’s a good thing you attended, it’s the final picket placed in the closure fence.

“You good?” Joel whispers in your ear while watching the rest of the party leave. You turn to respond, failing to realize his face is now right next to yours. His lips now sit a breath away from yours. Panic slips in, overwhelmed by the thought of anyone catching an awkward moment like this, especially since you’re the ex girlfriend the groom left for his brand new bride.

Fuck it. You lean forward and place your lips against his, leaving a delicate peck against them. At least now you’ll have this moment that’s just for you.

—

The warm autumn sun is beginning to set casting the preened and pristine gardens of the Hurts Estate in amber tones. Thank god for the cocktail hour and open bar.

You sip your champagne and smile at a few familiar faces while gazing out upon the vast lawns you used to spend lazy days sunbathing and playing croquet on. What a bizarre homecoming of sorts. Joel is taking his role seriously, constantly checking on you and never leaving your side.

A familiar voice calls your name, pulling you from your reverie.

“Oh sweetheart! It’s so lovely to see you!” Simon’s mother, Adeline, greets you with kisses on both cheeks before pulling you into a warm hug. You’ve always liked the woman and she always adored you. She turns to your date, her eyes lighting up when she looks Joel up and down.

“Addy, this is my boyfriend Joel.” A rush of excitement is sent through you at the simple introduction. “Joel, this is Simon’s mom, Adeline.”

“Good evening ma’am,” Joel says, extending his hand to shake hers gently. “It’s quite beautiful here.”

“Oh, thank you! Aside from our two boys, this is our pride and joy. There’s nothing better than seeing your child get married in the place you call home.” .

“Well, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about this place, you have a lot of good memories here, right baby?” Joel looks at you with an affectionate smile. Oh he’s good.

“I do,” you smile warmly at Addy.

“Oh sweetheart! That makes me so happy! You’re always welcome here, I’m so happy Simon invited you!”

“I am too, it’s so nice to see you,” you say, realizing how much you truly miss her. You spent twenty years of your life around so many of these people before being cut off cold turkey from them.

“Shoot! I better keep moving and making my rounds! Do enjoy the bar, and make sure tell them Addy sent you; they’ll give you the real good stuff. Joel, are you a whiskey man?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies with a nod.

“We’ve got some Old Rip Van Winkle, aged 25 years. Just tell them Adeline insists and they’ll pour you a glass.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Joel says gratefully.

“Oh, I like him darling!” Addy winks before turning to leave, her gold dress gleaming just as bright as her personality.

—

The large tent erected for the ceremony glows in pink and orange hues. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling overflowing with roses and garlands. It’s gorgeous and opulent everywhere you look.

You’ve been nervous about your table assignment since you sent in your RSVP. Who will you be stuck with? You prayed it would be strangers versus people you used to call friends. You thank your lucky stars when you’re led to table eleven, where you’re greeted warmly by strangers. You tell your new tablemates you’re an old friend of Simon’s, Joel grabs your hand and gently holds it while you introduce yourselves, shocked you still haven’t had to utilize the stories you and him invented.

Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hurts!

The two lovebirds make their grand entrance, glowing and grinning in their newlywed aura before the symphonic melody of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” begins to play. Hilarious, the last time you heard this song it was on a playlist Sabrina had made for Simon… a couple weeks before your ultimate separation. You got into a fight over the amount of times he’d play it, he told you were overreacting and being dramatic, you should’ve trusted your instincts right then and there.

They look so happy and gorgeous together, dancing their first dance surrounded by all of their loved ones inside this picturesque setting. It should’ve been you…

Joel leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you, stealing your attention from your spiraling thoughts. “I can’t play this song on violin or cello, but I can play it on guitar, maybe I can play it for you sometime.”

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, “I–I’d like that.”

“Thought you would,” he smirks, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

He’s been touching you all night, always considerate and tender, as if he holds an actual amount of reverence in his heart for you. God, he’s either the sweetest man to ever live, or he should give up the construction job, move to Hollywood and start acting.

—

Simon and Sabrina make their rounds after dinner, they’re a table away laughing and galavanting with friends you used to call your own. It’s been over a year since you last spoke to him and now as the ultimate final thing you’ve been dreading is near, you’re nervous as hell. Joel casually drapes his arm around the back of your chair before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of your head, helping subside some of your anxieties.

“You good?” he checks in with a soft whisper.

You nod, scooting closer into the shell he’s created for you with his large body.

Simon catches your eye with a warm, gentle smile as he leads Sabrina over to your table. You can’t be too mad at him, he’s been nothing but a gentleman since he forced the end of your already faltering relationship. Sabrina, well–she was just a better match for him. You wish them well, no matter how much it still seemingly hurts. You just want Simon to miss you a little bit.

The newlyweds greet the rest of the table, collecting well-wishes and flattery from the guests before turning their attention to you and Joel.

Simon bends forward and gives you a tight hug before thanking you and saying how lovely it is to see you. Sabrina says hello, you tell her she looks beautiful, she returns the favor.

Simon extends his hand to Joel and introduces himself. “I’m Simon, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about me–hopefully some good,” he says, his ever present British charm helps cut through the tension radiating off of Joel’s gruff reservedness.

“She has,” Joel replies, shaking Simon’s hand. “I’m Joel. Nice to meet you both. Congrats. S’been a lovely wedding.”

The four of you make casual conversation. Joel mentions he’s a contractor, Simon’s eyes light up before he mentions how he wants to build a pool house. Your heart twinges a bit when you remember it’s all for pretend and there’s no way Joel could take the job. Joel makes a joke about how dinner was better than a No. 5 from Whataburger, eliciting a ruckus laugh from the newlyweds. You feel good, until the sinking feeling inside rears its ugly head and reminds you this is all a sham.

Sabrina nods to Simon in an unspoken understanding that they need to move on with their greetings. Joel wishes them well and thanks them for the lovely party. You smile and do the same.

“It’s good to see you happy,” Simon says as he gives you a parting hug.

If only he knew…

You’re quiet as you watch Simon and Sabrina walk away, Simon’s hand is placed on Sabrina’s back lightly stroking up and down. Joel softly says your name, breaking your concentration on the happy married couple.

“I like this song, let’s dance,” he says, rising and extending his hand to you.

“Wonderwall?” you ask, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Let me guess, you can play it on guitar.”

“I do,” he confirms with a smile, pulling you close against his body. His large hand splays against your lower back, and yours finds its place on his firm shoulder. The wedding band has slowed the song down, couples gently sway around you. The twinkling lights above reflect in Joel’s dark brown eyes. You can’t stop looking at him, he can’t stop looking at you. The moment is intimate, to any other wedding guest, you look like a couple just as in love as the newlyweds.

You rest your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne–woodsy, smoky, with a hint of cinnamon. His thumb strokes against the skin of your hand as your bodies synchronistically move together. This doesn't feel like pretending at all.

The song ends, Joel makes no move to pull away, and you don’t either. The first notes of the next song begin and you recognize the drumbeat anywhere. You can’t believe you’re hearing it here, of all places.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up till January…”

“Ohh,” you let out a soft sigh against Joel’s chest, feeling your heart drop. “This was going to be our first dance song, I-I told him it as soon as I first heard it all those years ago.”

Joel tilts his head down, his concerned brown eyes peer into yours. “M’sorry, did you want to stop?”

“No, no, it’s–I can’t leave the floor during this. What if he sees me?”

Joel nods reassuringly before tightening his hold on you and pulling your joined hands in closer. His head rests on top of yours engulfing you with his broad body, like your own personal fake wedding date security blanket.

Your heartbreak slowly dissipates, mended by the gentle touch and attention of Joel. The song ends, he asks if you want to get a breath of fresh air, you gratefully nod before taking his hand and telling him you know a place.

—

The breeze rolling off the lake sends a chill across your skin, Joel takes notice, quickly removing his jacket and places it over your shoulders without hesitation.

“Thanks,” you say, sinking into the leftover warmth of Joel.

“No problem,” he says, shuffling his neck tie open and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. “I’m burnin’ up under it.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the tranquil waves lap at the shore. “Sorry about earlier. It was just… a shock to hear that song. He moved on so quickly and I feel like I’ve just been left wondering how I can so easily be… replaced.”

“No need to apologize,” he sighs, “I’m not good at any of this stuff, but, you don’t seem like someone that’s so… easy to get over.”

Your heart skips a beat when you look over at him. The soft ambient glow of the full moon reflecting off the water bathes him in an almost ethereal glow, making him look like a knight in shining armor who walked through a portal to help save you from your own wounded heart you’ve been trying to heal for the past two years.

“Guess you just don’t know me very well then,” you joke, trying to slow down the thoughts racing within your heart and mind.

“No, but I think I’d like to,” he says, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“I-I’d like that too.”

Joel hesitates for a moment before asking, “There’s a new Curtis & Viper movie releasing next week. Did you want to go with me?”

“Like a real date?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Suppose it would be. We could recreate our ‘first’ date that we told that one aunt of Simon’s all about. We’ll get pizza at the place across the street.”

“I’d love that,” you say, your excitement clear in your voice.

From across the yard, you can just make out the sound of the band playing for the wedding guests.

Joel takes a deep breath and turns to you with a warm, playful smile. “I feel better asking you here so you know I’m being for real. I really want to dance with you. May I have this dance?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face as he pulls you closer.

You remind yourself to send Maria a bouquet of flowers for setting up your fake wedding date as you settle into his embrace.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou joel #no outbreak!joel miller

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dollfacefantasy · 1 year ago

Text

Some Extra Lessons

pairing: professor!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: professor kennedy’s got it bad for one of his students. little does he know, you feel the same way for him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, thigh riding, fingering, edging, age gap (36/college aged), teacher/student, daddy kink, sir kink, praise/degradation

word count: 7k

a/n: hey everybody. hope everyone had nice holidays if you celebrate them. and happy new year! i'm not sure how i feel about this one but eh. i got things cooking so stay tuned 🫵. as always, thank you for your comments and reblogs. smooches <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

Mondays and Wednesdays. Those are fast becoming Leon’s two favorite days of the week. For most people, they’re probably the worst days. The first day back to work, and the other right in the middle of the week; when they’ve already had enough but it feels like the weekend is still years away. But not for Leon. Not anymore. Those days are now sacred to him because they are the days he gets to see you.

You’re his favorite student this semester by far, no one else even comes close. He noticed you early on in the beginning weeks, quiet but attentive. You would sit off to the side by yourself, always taking notes or scanning what was on the board.

It made him feel like such a perv when he first noticed his own lingering gazes and heart palpitations when you walked in the room. He tried to justify it. It wasn’t everyday he had someone like you sitting a few rows away from him, hanging on every word he said.

He’s only human, he tried reasoning. He couldn’t help but always notice the cute little outfits you wore to class, teasing just enough of your body to keep him ogling you for more. You did your hair in pretty styles and coated your pouty lips in shimmery gloss. He had to force his eyes to move around the room to other students when he spoke. His natural instinct was to keep them locked on you while his head filled with images of his hands squeezing those cute tits or his cock sliding between your shiny lips.

Despite those fantasies, he left you alone. It was wrong, inappropriate, he told himself. He shouldn’t be lusting after his student, let alone pursuing her. You were just a sweet girl trying to get an education. He couldn’t let his perversions interfere with that.

But as the weeks passed and more classes went by, he got to know you. You seemed pretty shy but not insecure. In class, you’d do your work alone, but if there was ever a lull in his lecture, you’d raise your hand to offer an answer, help him out a little. That was how he had bridged the gap between you two even though he hadn’t meant it as anything more than what it was.

He had just dismissed everyone, making a corny joke about the poor grades he’d given so far on an essay that had been due. A small smile graced your lips. Sure, the joke wasn’t that funny, but you had a fat crush on Mr. Kennedy so everything he said was a little funny.

You were scrawling down a few remaining notes before you would leave for the day when you heard his voice call your name. Immediately, your head tilted up to look at him. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand. You were still wondering what this could be about as your hands slid your notebook into your backpack and your feet carried you towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Kennedy?” you say softly when you approach his desk. You rest your palms on the edge of the table as you await the reason behind this encounter.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your participation. You know, I appreciate that, and I know it’s not fair to you to have that expected of you when you didn’t sign up for it,” he begins.

“Oh, it’s no problem, sir. I really don’t mind,” you say, smiling at him.

“Sir? So polite,” he jokes with a smile of his own. The remark had come out before he could stop himself with a mental scolding about being normal with you.

Your cheeks burn, and you glance down at your shoes timidly. Your heartbeat was already faster than normal just from having his eyes focused on you alone. With him teasing you, it felt like your chest was going to explode.

This was the closest you’d ever been to him, the most you’d ever spoken to one another. Up close it was even more apparent how handsome he was. He didn’t look like any other professors you had. His blonde hair fell into his face and partially obscured one of his eyes. His shirt was undone a button lower than was probably professional.

“And I wanted to tell you that I got your email about your late assignment,” he says. He could see your embarrassment. He would have felt more guilt about causing it if you didn’t look so precious like that. He pushes those thoughts away though as you look up again, anxiety in your eyes.

“Oh yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I promise you that it’s a one time thing. I don’t normally have that problem, and I just wanted you to know that. Didn’t want you to get the wrong impression,” you say.

He cuts off your apology with a chuckle and places his hand over yours, covering your manicured nails with the rough skin of his palm.

“It’s alright, honey,” he says, “I can tell you’re a good girl. I don’t mind giving you a break.”

Good girl. You shift in place upon hearing those two words. It’s like a small match ignites in your belly, inching closer to the larger fuse.

So naive. So well-intentioned. That’s what he saw looking at you in that moment. He could almost see into you, see your mind trying to figure out a response, to discern if he was purposely flirting or clueless like you.

Your eyes cast down, and a shy smile breaks out on your face. After wrapping up the conversation and finishing with a soft murmur of “Thank you Mr. Kennedy,” you practically skip out of the room. A swirl of almost every good emotion you’ve ever felt blooms in your chest because of his attention.

He smirks, watching that sweet ass sway back and forth as you bound up the steps to the door. How you seem to walk with your shoulders back and chest out after the small praise he gave you. God, he was practically drooling. He imagined himself looking like a cartoon character, silhouettes of hearts in his eyes and his tongue rolled out of his mouth.

But no, this was wrong. Point blank, it’s that simple. Or at least it should be.

After that day, he relented a little. He decided that some slight teasing was harmless. But he swore it would be just that, nothing further. That small voice in his head tried to defend it. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the attention. You’d blush and fidget in your seat when he shot you an amorous look. Or you’d smile and flit your eyes away as he’d tuck some hair behind your ear when he’d come over to your desk after class to ask if you understood everything.

And as he weakened, your infatuation intensified. These classes became the highlights of your week. You’d fantasize about the pet name he’d call you on Monday or how his eyes would roam over your body on Wednesday. Walking to class, ringing through your head was simply Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy. While you traveled home, he danced through your mind to your thoughts about him that sounded like a love song.

Even with the huge torch you carried for him, you could never work up the nerve to make the big move. Every time you’d imagine sitting in his lap, your lips moving with his, all you could think about was what if it was all in your head? All those little looks and sweet words just blown out of proportion in your mind. Could you handle baring your soul to him if he reacted with anything other than reciprocation?

These questions bothered you as the semester went on, but nothing really changed. Leon was the same way, of course, all while you were unaware. He could only imagine how freaked out you would be if he made any attempt on you.

Lately, the two of you had been spending more time together. You were staying after class more to get “additional help.” Lingering around his desk, you’d timidly started approaching him, and he was happy to give you the aide.

Today, he dismisses everyone else before waving you over with a smug smile. You grab your things and scamper down to his desk with your own happy expression. You slide into the chair he pulled next to his seat. You open your laptop and start showing him the things you didn’t understand. In reality, you understood just fine, but for the sake of being around him, you’d bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes as if you’d missed entire classes worth of information.

“I just have trouble with memorization. I get confused between the words and their definitions,” you explain.

“Oh alright,” he responds softly, eyes scanning over the screen and then finding your face, “There’s a couple of things I think could help. Acronyms, stuff like that.”

He starts explaining the strategy to you, but like always, you have to fight a mental war to stay focused. You nod along, trying your best to act attentive. It was so hard though because… he’s him.

You scoot your chair a little closer to his to get a better view of the laptop and notice his breath hitch. Your body freezes, but instead of feeling that familiar fear of rejection come over you, confidence begins simmering inside your chest. The change in his breathing meant something, he was reacting to this too. Maybe you could do this after all.

For now, you try to act natural, moving along the conversation with another question.

“Is there anything else though? Because I struggle to attach the definitions too, not just remember the words,” you say, leaning in a little more.

He turns his head to look at you completely, eyes locked on yours. You felt like you were losing your footing a little staring into them. “Mhm. I can show you how to link the two. Break down the word to get the meanings of the parts and…” he continues on as you zone out.

His voice was huskier now, and that simmer of confidence continues to build within you. You keep nodding with every pause in his speech, your doe eyes looking up at him.

“That makes sense,” you say when he finishes, still unable to look away. Your heart pounds as you make a decision. You place your hand on his thigh. You try to act natural, as if it’s just a casual gesture of affirmation. But you can see in his eyes that he knows better.

“Yeah? Do you need help with anything else then?” he asks slowly, watching your face for reactions.

“I think so,” you say as your voice grows a little breathier.

“What is it?” he asks. He leans in a little more and you can feel his hot breath fanning over you.

“I have some more questions…” you say.

“About?” he says, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.

Head tilting down, your foot moves over to lightly brush up against his leg. You bite your lip, looking the most timid he’d ever seen you, which was saying a lot. But you force yourself to keep going while you have this burst of hope.

“Some special tutoring…” you offer.

“Special tutoring?” he repeats with a raise of his eyebrow, looking down at your foot rubbing at his ankle. He hesitates but decides to then take your hand and stand up. “If we’re discussing something like that, we should probably go to my personal office. Wouldn’t want us to get interrupted by the next class in here.”

“Oh yeah,” you immediately agree. You grab your stuff and your fingers link with his as he leads you out of the classroom, down the hall to his office. Passing bulletin boards of flyers and other students heading to their next class, you realize it probably looks a little odd to be holding his hand, letting him guide you around. But it just turned you on more, feeling dependent, controlled.

After a while, you reach the door with the stick-on placard reading “Leon Kennedy.” Your heart pounds as you shuffle through the entrance. The office was a decent size, having a desk, some book shelves, and a small loveseat in the back corner of the room.

He slides past you and walks behind his desk, taking a seat in his chair that was clearly much more comfortable than the generic one in the lecture room. It dawned on you though that that was the only other chair in the room. There was the couch, but that was too far away from the desk for your purposes.

You approach the desk, similar to how you did all those weeks ago when this first started. He looks up at you with hesitant desire in his eyes.

“Why don’t you c’mere?” he asks.

“Ok,” you respond shyly. You drop your stuff near his desk and pad around it to approach him. Standing between his muscular thighs, you almost can’t focus from the volume of your pulse in your ears. His eyes look you up and down, more overtly than they ever had in the past. It now felt like you were hurtling towards a collision without a possibility of stopping.

After a moment of silence, he rips you from your thoughts. “Go ahead and ask your questions,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” you say, perking up a little since you had nearly forgotten about your facade of innocent curiosity. “I was just wondering if I could maybe start getting some… extra help.”

He chuckles and leans back in his chair. The maneuver gives you a better view of his broad chest and sculpturesque arms. You feel even more flustered, and you know it’s about to get worse because he obviously picks up on it.

“I don’t really think you need extra help quite honestly. Your grade is fine, and you seem to understand a lot, even the tedious things you ask questions about,” he says, a subtle arrogance on his face as he drags this out.

“No, I really think I do,” you say softly, shifting back and forth in place.

His eyes look up at you with a knowing glint. He shakes his head with a smirk as his gaze falls down to your legs that couldn’t stand still.

“With what? Like I said, even those things you pretend to not know, you obviously do. You ace every test, and while I’d like to believe it, I don’t think my advice is that helpful.”

As the words left his mouth, Leon knew he was getting into dangerous territory, leading you to a place neither of you could just return from. The rational part of his mind was slamming on his mental brakes to no avail.

You were in a similar place, your mind racing and trying to decide whether to go for it or not. After a quick moment, it was as if a bright neon sign flashes in your mind. The words telling you to try. You decide on moving forward and ignoring the other part of you that’s telling you to turn around and walk out the door right now.

You sit on his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his thigh. You look down as your fingertips drag along the waistline of his pants.

“I just think there are other things I could learn from you,” you say, your voice shaking from your nerves.

“Tell me what they are,” he breathes. His own heart slams against his ribcage at your gesture. His natural instincts scream at him to pull you close and take what he wants, making his fantasies reality.

“It’s easier for me to show you,” you say. You felt if you had to speak anymore you might lose your nerve, so you go all in. You lean forward and connect your lips. With feather light kisses, you move your mouth on his.

At first, he doesn’t kiss back, and fear zaps through you. After a moment of shock though, he reciprocates. Your hands slide up his chest while he grabs your hips to pull you closer. The two of you go at it a little longer with soft smooches. Then he feels your tongue swipe against his bottom lip.

He pulls back and looks at you. He couldn’t do this. But God, just look at you. Your chest heaving with your heavier breathing, those plush lips wet with saliva, pretty eyes looking at him like a pleading puppy. He groans and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. His head falls back against his chair.

“Sweetheart… we shouldn’t do this,” he says, not looking at you to try and keep his resolve.

You bite your lip as your eyes widen with anxiety. “Did I do something wrong?” you say, shaky voice returning.

You try to keep it together. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you silently vow to yourself that you wouldn’t cry from the rejection. There would truly be no coming back from that. It would be hard enough seeing him on Monday as it was. If you shed any tears, you’d have to drop the class regardless of how close the end of the semester was.

“No, honey. I did. I just… it’s wrong,” he offers weakly, not convinced of his own excuse, “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m sorry.”

Despite your internal promise, you felt barbs scraping at your throat with each swallow. Hot, stinging tears pricking at your eyes. You try to push it all back down, spare yourself some dignity.

“But- But don’t you-” you start, cutting yourself off to maintain your composure. You take a deep breath before finishing. “Don’t you like me?”

Leon cracks his eyes open and looks down at you. A critical error. He felt like such a dick. There you were, still on his lap, lip quivering, eyes lined with tears and full of uncertainty. He managed to make this into what he wanted to avoid, a complete mess.

“No- I mean yes, I like you a lot. That isn’t the issue here. We- I… we just can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long,” he sighs, hands falling to your hips to move you off his lap.

Now, tears were really threatening to fall. You grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself and stop him from lifting you up. Your mind scrambles for an argument that could work.

“Why?” is all you can manage. As if you didn’t know.

“Baby, I’m your teacher. It wouldn’t be right,” he says, forcing himself to remain unaffected by the kicked puppy look you had going on, “I have to stay objective, and that’s hard enough with a cute little thing like yourself.” He smirks at the end of his statement and rubs your cheek, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work, your eyes are fixated on his belt buckle as a part of the strategy to keep your tears from leaking out. You subconsciously lean into his hand on your face though, a gesture that makes his heart melt. You just nod faintly. Think, think, think, think, you tell yourself.

“But it won’t be like you’re cheating for me. I get good grades. It’s not like I’m fucking you to pass…” you reason.

“I know that, sweetheart, and you know that. But you have to understand. Think about it. What if people found out? I’d be risking my job, and I can’t imagine it would go well for you either,” he says softly, stroking some of your hair behind your ear.

“No one will find out,” you say. Your head tilts up so you can look into his eyes.

He immediately looks away, afraid he would cave if he stared into those sweet spheres of desire. You catch this, realizing it may be your way ahead.

“You’re a sweet girl, honey. Pretty and smart. The kind any man would be lucky to have. If this was a different situation, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. But it’s not,” he says, looking pained.

You push your lip out a little more and let one tear fall from each eye before quickly wiping them away, smearing the warm liquid across your cheek. Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him and press yourself to his chest. You look up at him, forcing him to make eye contact.

“I don’t want any man though,” you say quietly. You keep your stare locked on him, your eyes big and vulnerable to accentuate your point. “Please, sir.”

His cock jumps at the title leaving your lips. He sucks in a breath and tilts his head back. “Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says with a hushed groan.

You scoot forward a little bit, your hips grinding down on his lap with the motion. Your nose drags against his throat as you nuzzle his neck. You lay a kiss to his pulse point before murmuring, “Just a few more kisses? Then I won’t bring any of it up again. Pretty please.”

“Kisses…” he trails off, pondering the idea. Just a few more kisses. An obvious lie. But one he would at least pretend to believe just so he could have those sweet lips on his again. “Fine, but that’s it. You understand?”

“Mhm,” you respond without thinking. You lean up and kiss him. It’s not soft or gentle like the first time. This go is passionate from the beginning. Lips move together, and again, your tongue works to gain entry to his mouth.

The two of you make out for definitely more than a few kisses. Your hand slides up from his shoulder to the base of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. He groans and squeezes your waist. You gasp between kisses at the sensation and grind your hips down again in response.

He grunts as he feels it, his cock getting a little stiff at the feeling. You do it again with a whimper. This time his fingers dig into your flesh, holding you with more authority.

“Be good, only a few more kisses, remember?” he grunts against your lips.

Continuing to kiss, you take a break from moving your hips and push your body against his again. Your soft tits push up against his chest. He tries to draw back, feeling cracks in his resolve as the warm globes meld with him. The backing of his chair stops him from getting too far away though. He grunts and his grip gets more firm, trying to keep you in a suitable position.

“Stay still. Think I’m giving you more than you asked for anyway. Don’t make me cut it off here,” he mumbles before going back in.

It was risky, but you felt like you had him. You felt him half hard between your legs and could feel his breath coming out in longer puffs. You do it again, rolling your hips on him, dragging your cunt over his bulge through the layers of clothing that separated you.

He growls and nips at your lip before harshly lifting your hips off his lap. You’re hovering above the growing tent in his jeans. You lightly rock them a few times with a pout, testing to see if you can get any kind of friction.

“What did I say?” he asks.

“It’s not fair, sir,” you whimper, ignoring his question.

“Oh, it’s not?” he says, maintaining his stern demeanor, “What’s so unfair?”

“Leading me on,” you huff.

Mix a bit of truth in with your seductive game, and you have him now. Real guilt and frustration swirls with the lust in the pit of his belly. He was all in now. There was no way you were leaving this office without his cum leaking from you.

“I told you what you were getting. You thought you could get away with being greedy,” he chides. He lifts you even more and puts you on your feet in front of him, between his thighs again. “Take your pants off.”

Your eyes widen. This was going to happen. Your fingers make quick work of your jeans, snapping the button and dropping them to pool around your ankles. You step out of them and nudge them to the side. He smirks up at you, standing there in your tight t-shirt and frilly pink panties. Of course, everything about you was cute.

His hands return to your hips and pull you on top of him. This time you aren’t on his lap though. You land on his thigh. You look down at the limb beneath you and then back at his face.

“Don’t play dumb now. You wanna rub that needy pussy on something, go ahead,” he says.

“But-“ you start before he cuts you off with a sharp smack on the ass.

“I don’t want to hear any complaining. You should count yourself lucky I’m letting you even do this,” he says as his hand rubs and kneads the cheek he just slapped, “Normally, I wouldn’t accept my little girl just doing whatever she wants like that. But because it’s your first time, I’m giving you a break. Gonna help fix this problem you’re having, thinking from between your legs instead of with that pretty little head.”

Your entire face heats up as he lays into you like that. You start rocking your hips, dragging yourself on his clothes thigh. You watch his face for approval as you go, but his eyes are transfixed on your lower body at the moment.

“There you go, baby. That’s right,” he says encouragingly before cracking you on the ass again, “Little faster. Wanna see how bad you’ve been wanting this.”

You do as he says, rolling your hips with more speed and force. The fabric of your panties begins to dampen with your arousal as you press onto it. Whimpers fall from your lips as you grind your swollen pussy on his muscle. He gives you some help, guiding your movements by holding your hips. You softly gasp a few times, biting your lip as you continue to rut against him.

“Look at you,” he coos. Your tits bounce beneath your t-shirt as you ride his thigh. “Been thinking about this a lot, sweetheart? Dream about this while you’re sitting in class, hm? Humping my leg like a dumb little puppy.”

“Yes,” you choke out and toss your head back. A guttural moan leaves you, and he chuckles, giving your hip a tighter squeeze.

“Quiet, babydoll. Don’t want anyone outside this room hearing. I don’t think they’d believe this is just some ‘special tutoring,’” he says.

You keep up your grinding, your pussy sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants even through your panties. He tries to help you quiet down by pulling you closer and cradling your head against his shoulder, muffling your sounds against his shirt. The cloth becomes wet with your spit as your hushed moans spill out.

After going for a little while longer, he can tell you’re getting close. It’s obvious in the way your hips sputter every couple of thrusts, how your voice is getting whinier, how your body contracts every few moments. Your hands curl into fists, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, “Getting close, baby? Think you’re gonna cum soon?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper.

“Aw, so polite,” he teases just like he had those weeks ago, “Well, tell me when you’re right there. Gonna make it extra special.”

You nod obediently and continue working yourself to the high point. Your breaths become sharper and movements get more erratic. You feel the band of pleasure stretching inside you, ready to snap.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, “ you ramble out.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” he says.

With a menacing grin, he yanks your hips up and flips you around. Mind spinning from the sudden loss of pleasure, you whine and squirm on his lap. A pointless struggle seeing how your soaked panties were faced out away from any potential source of friction. Your back’s flush against the warmth of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thudding behind you as his hands curl around the back of your legs and bring them up so that your feet are planted on his thighs. Your head slumps back against his shoulder, turning to look up at him, pleading frustration projecting from your eyes.

One of his arms snakes around your waist while the other comes up to stroke your chin with his thumb. He looks down at you, eyes full of amusement as he toys with you.

“Now that was really unfair, wasn’t it pretty girl?” he taunts.

You arch your back off his chest with another whine before collapsing against his broad form again. You nod, feeling the sparks of ecstasy dwindle within you.

“You’re a tease,” you huff.

“I am?” he mocks.

He begins trailing his hand down your front, stopping level with your breasts. He squeezes them gently with some firm caresses from his fingers. Then he lowers his hand further and slips it beneath your shirt. Your breath hitches as he begins stroking the soft skin of your belly up to the valley between your breasts. His palm slides beneath the cups of your bra, feeling the bare skin of your chest. He alternates between each. The rough pads of his fingertips drag over the sensitive flesh of your nipples, giving them tender pinches that draw hushed mewls from you.

“So soft, baby,” he whispers with a kiss to your temple.

It felt nice, made your breasts feel heavy and achy, begging to be touched. Had your head hot and airy, unable to control the way you melted against him or the sweet noises that escaped you. But you couldn’t really enjoy that because your pussy was still throbbing, still desperately searching for the orgasm that was stolen from you. You squirm again, pushing your ass back against the bulge you felt growing in his pants.

“Please, sir. Please,” you whimper, “Wanna cum.”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against the side of your head, but his tone remains rough and commanding. “I think the next thing I gotta teach you is patience.”

Retracting his hand from your bra, he smooths it back down your stomach to the hem of your panties. His fingers fidget with one of the strips of lace on the garment while he stares into your eyes.

“You know, baby, I think you’re the tease here,” he breathes. He rubs the skin just above your panties and then moves under the fabric. His digits glide through your slick folds, the touch meandering, just at the border of giving you pleasure. “I mean, I think you know what you’ve been doing.”

“What?” you say, struggling to take in his words when you were fixated on his touches to your center.

“You act like a dumb little doll, sweetheart, but I know you’re not. I know you know how to play. Parading around in those pretty outfits, something always on your lips, always saying ‘yes sir,’” he whispers. His digits circle your clit at a painfully slow pace. He brushes over it slightly, giving you hope before flattening his hand over your cunt. You get ready to whine about the teasing before he pushes two fingers inside you.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp, head pressing back further against his shoulder.

“Oh, and how could I forget my favorite, ‘Mr. Kennedy.’ But I think it’s about time you start calling me Leon, babydoll. No need to be so formal anymore,” he says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right.

You shake your head and whimper. His palm rubs down on your puffy clit with every thrust of his hand.

“Oh no?” he teases, “You like Mr. Kennedy taking care of you, making you feel good?”

Your eyes roll back as you nod. “Mhm. Yes… s-sir,” you say.

You stumble over the word ‘sir.’ Leon catches it immediately, and he’s certain he knows why. He knows what you really wanted to call him.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purrs in your ear, seeing the way the praise pulls extra gasps from you, makes your eyes all glossy, “You’re so sweet, baby. So precious.”

He lays it on thick, trying to get you to crack and say the word on the tip of your tongue. His fingers massage your sensitive spots as they consistently slide into your dripping cunt. You bite your lip, more whimpers coming from you. You look up at him again through your lashes.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, voice all soft and dreamy as you start climbing to that high.

“Of course, babydoll. You deserve it,” he says into your hair, “But you know, I still think ‘sir’ is too professional. Makes me feel like I’m at work. Plus, I get the feeling you have another name in mind too.”

“I- I do?” you ask, looking up at him curiously. He smiles at your naivety and the way you try to get your words out around your whimpers.

“Oh yeah. I can already hear it, sweetheart. You like being taken care of, being doted on. I can see it. All you want is to be a good girl for…”

“Daddy,” you whine, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s right,” he chuckles. He speeds up his fingers, delving as deep as possible. A quiet squeal erupts from you, and he hushes you while kissing your cheek a few times. You try to keep your noises down even as your hips buck and your heels dig into the meat of his thighs.

“Daddy I- Daddy, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.

“Aw, but I don’t want my baby to cum yet,” he mocks. Just as quick as the release had built in you, it was gone. He pulls his fingers out of your hole, and your eyes widen. You whimper in disbelief, hips squirming as if they could find that sensation again if they were positioned just right.

“Daddy!” you practically cry.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he says, taking his fingers, still wet with your slick, and shoving them into your mouth. You hum around them in surprise at first, but in no time, your tongue presses against the skin, tasting yourself on him. He pumps them in and out a little, a smaller version of what he had been doing moments earlier down below.

“There you go, baby. Like I said, no complaints. Just shut that silly mind off and focus on Daddy’s fingers,” he murmurs. He watches with approval as you do exactly that, your eyes fluttering a bit as you clear your thoughts out. “Such a fast learner.”

Your pussy still aches with a need for him, but it’s more tolerable when he’s cooing in your ear while your lips are around his fingers.

“Bet my pretty girl wants to cum so bad right about now,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

“Mhm,” you hum as you take his fingers further into your mouth.

“Well, you know why Daddy didn’t let you cum yet? It wasn’t just to be mean to you,” he says.

He hears garbled “I don’t know” come from you. He strokes your hair with his other hand.

“It’s because,” he starts. He removes his fingers from between your lips and scoops you up. Next thing you know, your back is against the hardwood of his desk. You’re looking up at him with hazy eyes, slowly blinking as you take in his words. “I want you to cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

In mere seconds, his belt clanks against the floor, your panties are gone, his fly is undone, and his dick is out, rock hard. It’s flushed and leaking precum as he moves it to your entrance. He pushes the tip in first, teasing you by holding himself there.

You whine at the slight intrusion, wiggling your hips for more. Jutting your lip out a bit, you look up at him with a pout. “Daddy…” you plead weakly.

He shakes his head with an amused smile, but it works. He pushes the rest of his length in, filling you up completely. As he slides in, a long groan leaves him and his head tilts towards the ceiling. He grumbles something along the lines of “so fucking tight.” Your fingers reach downward to grip the edge of his desk. It felt like you were already there again, right on the brink of release.

After a moment of just taking in the feeling, he begins thrusting. He pulls his hips back and pushes them forward again. His cock slides between your walls with no resistance, the perfect fit. You were already pulsing around him, sucking him in deeper. A deep laugh rumbles from his chest.

“You're gonna cum already, baby. I’m that good?” he mocks. He thumbs your clit, sending a burst of pleasure through you that makes you clamp down on him. He grunts and starts thrusting a little harder.

You’re whining quietly, but you can’t hold back the yelp when he pinches your clit. You cum on the spot, gushing around him. You babble incoherently and buck your hips. The high was higher than any euphoria you’d ever felt. You’re panting when it’s done, but he’s still going.

He’s smirking down at you, rocking his hips all the while. “Did I say you could do that?” he asks with a light spank to your clit.

You gasp and arch your back off the desk. “No!” you whine, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Another spank. “You’re lucky it’s your first time, and I’m giving you a break today.”

You nod quickly. “Thank you Daddy,” you mumble.

He keeps thrusting, seamlessly going between hard and fast and slow and deep. The motions shake the desk back and forth, sliding inches on the floor each time. You feel like there’s gonna be scrape marks when you’re done.

You also feel like you’re gonna have marks from the way he’s gripping your hips, battering your sensitive pussy. You were so worked up from all the teasing that the overstimulation didn’t even faze you. Your head just droops back, hanging off the edge of the desk.

It’s harder to keep track of how loud you’re being when you’re this out of it. He smiles at your needy whines and pulls your thighs forward so your head is back on the desk. He leans forward, covering his body with yours and grinding his hips deeper than before. His hand comes up and covers your mouth.

“You better hope no one hears, pretty girl. We didn’t lock the door,” he pants.

You moan against the flesh of his hand and your walls tighten their grip on him. He growls in your ear at the sensation before a low chuckle comes from him.

“Oh, you’d like that? I should’ve known,” he teases, “You’d love for someone to come in and see how good you’re being. What a sweet girl you are, being used by your teacher. Love for them to see all the things Daddy’s teaching you.”

A strained cry bubbles beneath his fingers, and you nod, feeling shameless about your fantasy. He nuzzles the side of your head and keeps thrusting as deep as he can. He knows you’re getting close again, and this time, he’s right there with you.

“Come on, sweet baby. Give Daddy another one. I know my precious girl can do it. You were wanting it for so long,” he grunts.

Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you. Your whines and cries are fortunately muffled by his palm, but he feels your drool leaking against his skin. His own eyes squeeze shut as he gasps and moans. His hips jerk, pounding into you a few more times before he cums. He bites his lip to silence his own noises as he spills into, filling you to the brim.

Both of your chests are heaving in the end as you take in gulps of air. He slowly pulls out and pushes some of his hair out of his face. You're both half dressed, his pants down to his knees, shirt unbuttoned. You, nude from the waist down and bra shifted out of place beneath your shirt.

The two of you stand up, you on shaky legs, and pull yourselves back into shape. You pull your panties up and follow them with your jeans while he does the same with his pants. He then falls back into his chair and takes you with him.

He just holds you to his chest for a little bit, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. You don’t say anything either. You curl up into the affection and stroke his forearm gently.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs before squeezing you a little tighter.

You’re both so into it, not caring about anything beyond this office at this moment. That is until you catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“Oh… Mr. Kennedy,” you start as you slowly untangle yourself from him and stand up, “I probably should get going. I have to meet my friend to study soon.”

He’s not happy about losing your body on his, but he smiles at your words.

“Alright, honey, but seriously. It’s Leon from now on,” he says.

“Ok,” you laugh with a nod, “Leon.”

You grab your things and give him one more sweet look before turning to walk to the door. He pats you on the ass and kisses your cheek.

“See you Monday, baby,” he says.

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