#JESUS FUCKING CHRIST PALM IS GONE FOR HIM

[taeminie]

Just make me proud. Sure, Mr. Nueng.

Ep. 4 | NEVER LET ME GO (2023) Dir. Jojo Tichakorn

[groovyangelkisses]

just need to give old man logan some love yk, let him rest his head on some titties and bandage his wounds and also suck his dick

oh i understand you completely, sweetpea! i hope you enjoy my thoughts on your headcanons! ᡣ𐭩

nsfw (minors do NOT interact, please)— age gap (all my readers are 21+!), oral (male recieving), objectification of female body parts, tad bit of dacryphilia & dumbification, "kid" used as an affectionate nickname, logan being infatuated <3

logan is absolutely a tits man, i don't make the rules! he loves to watch them heave in your suit when you're out of breath on a mission, or bouncing as you descend the stairs— you name it, his eyes are occupied with you. a lot of times you catch him staring down your shirt, whispering to himself "so soft" as he ogles your cleavage. and when you're sitting away from him, back facing him as you rest on a rickety wooden chair, watching out of the window, he'll come up behind you, big hands gripping your chest harshly in his warm, calloused palms before tutting "missed my girls" with a big squeeze. <3

and you bandaging him after a mission gone wrong? he'll whine out "ah jesus christ- i'm fine doll, really" and you'll fuss over him even more.... but guess what? he secretly loves when you fuss over him. giving him all your attention and touching him so gently while scolding him for getting himself hurt. granted, he will heal instantly because of his mutation, but just imagine him getting a random nose bleed in the middle of the night. you cooing "oh honey, lemme help you" and, like always, he'll feel like he needs to push the love away, but he'll relent for you. always and only for you. he'll sit on the toilet seat lid, one leg extended out in the small bathroom while his other stays bent so you can sit on it. he likes seeing your eyes widen, hearing your little gasps and the sweet, genuine hearts in your eyes when you get to hold him and provide for him for once. and he just can't stop himself, squeezing your ass and thighs as you hold the tissue to his nose "'m all better now babydoll, promise. see?" before raising his hand to the back of your neck and lightly pulling you forward, the ghost of a "c'mon gimme a kiss... so good to me... so good to your old man" on his lips. ahhhh!!!!!

and when it comes to head? logan is sooooo cocky. i mean, naturally he loves how sweet you are to him; how absolutely and utterly loving and obsessed you are with him. and trust me, he feels the exact same way, maybe even a little more than you, too. he'd absolutely hold your cheeks in his palms, cradling you as you suckle at him with teary eyes and red knees. his thumbs will rub against the apple of your cheeks, and he'll do his best to hold eye contact, even though he desperately feels the need to flutter his eyelids and groan so loud that the entire ground shakes. manspreading, he'll move and jut his hips out with a hiss, whispering "fuckin' good, always so fuckin' good... you hearin me, kid?" and that's when he'll notice the stars in your eyes. sure, you always look at him with a dazed gaze, able to let down your guard and fully be in your element from dating such an intimidating, but gentle and masculine man. but this, this is a different look. a look that shows just how far gone you are. spit on your chin, tears on your cheeks and some of his precum resting on the tip of your nose. so dumb for him. this alone makes him cry out, his head rolling back, his thick neck stretching & his eyes squeezing shut after he finally can't take anymore and tears them away from you with an "ah, ah fuck ah fuck!" as he finishes with his hands holding your head completely still— wanting you to take him all. and once he catches his breath, his hands stay there, a gruff "cmon baby.. cmon eat me up, know you can" until you swallow for him... <3

[leqonsluv3r]

early mornings

— leon and you have some fun in the mornings, a blurb

contains nsfw content, 18+, MDNI

masterlist taglist

you wake up to leon poking you from behind, not with his fingers or any of his other body parts. his morning wood was digging into the curve of your ass.

you groaned and buried your head into your pillow, feeling his breath fanning over the back of your neck. he always had morning wood, always. not a single morning when he wasn’t waking up horny for you. for any part of you.

you didn’t always have time, you were flattered that he still obviously found you attractive. it made you feel good, to have that pride that he most likely dreamed about you or that his body was still subconsciously attracted to you.

his arm was slung over your waist, you were only wearing underwear that you had thrown on. you mostly slept naked these days anyways. it wasn’t something you bothered with if most mornings your pjs would be gone anyways.

so you forged them until you or him change your mind. but you loved these mornings with him. feeling his boxer clad erection digging into your ass where he held you from behind, her his fingers held you close protectively.

you instinctively rubbed your underwear clad ass up against his boxer clad erection, waiting for him to wake up and deal with you like he did most mornings. your panties practically drooling with the thought of him just lazily fucking you like he did most mornings.

it was enough to put your gut into a tizzy, to make you want to pounce on top of him and ride him lazily until you both were moaning and sweaty messes.

he grumbles into your neck, “baby, stop.” he mumbles lazily into your neck as he breathes heavier, his hand pressing into the skin of your stomach. you swallowed and didn’t listen, instantly grinding your ass up against his erection again.

there he is, you think, about time.

he growls lowly against your neck, “you little…” he says in his rough sleepy voice, his hand going from your stomach down to the slit of your panties. he practically moans against the back of your neck as he finds a wet spot in the front of your underwear with his skillful fingers.

“always so fucking…wet, christ.” he mumbles against the back of your neck, “this all for me, baby?” he moves his mouth to the skin right below your ear. you whine and rub your ass up against his erection again, he hisses and spanks your underwear clad pussy. “enough, so impatient in the mornings.”

you whimper and move your thigh so he has more access, you like this. you like how lazy and simple it is in the morning. in the fog of sleep. how easy it is for you to just move your underwear to the side, let him take himself out and slip it out, slip it in. your mind only focused on his cock, his touches and how simple it is.

how effortlessly he can make you fall apart without much work at all. he doesn’t waste any time this morning either, pushing your underwear to the side and exposing your wet core. lightly rubbing the pads of his fingers through the arousal their with an amused noise.

he presses small kisses to the back of your neck and your hair, teasing you a little despite his impatience. he loved building you up and tearing you down again with his fingers, his touches, his cock. he delighted in knowing that he could do that.

even in the lazy haze of the morning with both of you half asleep and horny for each other.

he didn’t waste time again, pulling his boxers off of his legs and kicking them off from behind you on the bed, gently picking your thigh up and angling you gently so he could swipe his erection through your drenched folds. you whimper, “enough teasing.” and it practically sounds like a whine, your eyes fluttering open and shut delicately.

you could already feel the stretch when his head nudged at your drenched opening, his hand stroking lazily at the flesh of your thigh. he drifted it up to your breasts, palming them in his large hands. “mmm, so fucking wet for me baby. jesus.” he mutters into your hair as he slowly pushes the tip in.

you moan softly, just the tip stretching you and it’s already delicious, already making you feral and hungry. he groans again and pushed in slowly, your arousal letting him slip in with no prep.

no matter how many times you had taken him, let him stretch you out and bruise your cervix. you still needed him to prep you, but not now. not in these hazy mornings when you were practically dripping wet.

he let out a low groan, panting against your hair behind you, squeezing your breast as he hit the hilt inside of you. “so tight…fuck me…” he managed to get out, it sounded strained and like he was doing his best not to come from just slipping inside of you.

“leon…” you whined as you buried your head into the pillow, panting as you tried not to clench around him. you were just so full, half asleep and you were already cock drunk. he hadn’t even moved his hips yet, was just still and twitching inside of you.

“i know, babygirl. i’ve got you.” he muttered as he pressed a small kiss into your hair from behind, moving his hips. he drew out almost all the way and pushed back in, causing you to moan softly. his hand gripping onto your breast, kneading it gently.

the moans kept slipping from your slightly parted lips, your eyes fluttered open and shut. he rolled his hips and kept fucking you from where he laid behind you, rubbing his thumb over your nipple. “good fucking girl…fuck…so good.” he babbled against the skin of your neck as he propped himself up behind you on the pillows.

he pressed kisses to your neck and jaw as he kept rolling his hips, his hips hitting your ass with every thrust he made into your wet entrance, stretching you out deliciously with every move he made. you whined and moaned against the pillow, practically drooling onto it as he lazily fucked you.

your head was so fuzzy, so dazed and full. you could just die like this, stuffed to the brim with his cock and his fingers working over your chest like he was tuning an instrument.

“doing so good…my fucking…good girl…” he strangled out in between soft grunts against your neck, his mouth fanning there as if he forgot he was kissing it. his hands twisting and pulling at your sensitive nipples, making you whine and keel at his touch.

“leon…m’gonna cum…” you whine softly into the pillow, your eyes practically opening just to roll into the back of your skull. he moans in return, a low rumble against your neck as he slapped his hips harder against your ass.

stretching you out and filling you harder, determined to keep hitting that spot inside of you until you were both hot and sweaty. “so fucking tight, christ baby…your squeezing me…” he grunted as he moved his hand down and away from your chest, grabbing at the flesh of your thigh to open you up more.

you moaned loudly at the new angle, your head falling back against his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy. you could feel your heart race, your skin get hot. you knew you were close, that his touch and his cock was the one to get you undone so fast.

“right…there…mmm, please…wanna cum.” you babbled as you parted your lips in shaky shallow breaths as your chest rose and fell. he growled against your hair and practically had a white knuckled grip on the flesh of your thigh where he opened you up.

slapping of skin and heavy pants, moans and the swirling of arousal filtered through your shared bedroom as he kept thrusting into you from behind.

he was going to happily oblige you, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t. “gonna cum too baby, delicious fucking pussy…needed some cock to wake you up.” his dirty words went straight to your dripping cunt as it devoured his erection with every thrust.

“yes, yes…” you babbled as your eyes opened and shut in a lazy lustful way, drool leaking out of the corner of your lips. you probably looked absolutely wrecked but he took so much pride. the way only his cock and his touch, his words could make you look that way.

“come for me baby, milk my cock. milk it…fuck…like the good girl you are. let me feel you.” he managed to get out in between thrusts to your spot inside of you, the one spot that only he could reach. he was beyond coherent at this point, just like how you were.

he was just as absolutely wrecked as you were, you didn’t doubt it. even if you couldn’t look behind you to see it, you could just tell. you’d had sex with him enough times to know.

you didn’t even hesitate when that band snapped deep in your belly, coming all over his cock. your arousal spilling all over him and clenching around him like your body knew. like it knew that he was giving the command and that it was okay.

“oh..shit..fuck…” he grunted as he panted heavily against your hair, fucking you through your orgasm as he chased his own. his hand went back up from your thigh to your chest, squeezing your breast like a stress toy.

he chased his own orgasm as overstimulation set in, in your body. causing you to shake and writhe a little bit, small whimpers coming from your parted lips. “it’s okay…shh, i’m close…” he said into your hair, his low raspy timbre keeping you reassured.

and just with a few more frantic thrusts, he stilled inside of you and you heard him groan. his seed spilling inside of you, filling you up and making you his again. you could feel it, it was carnal and your body couldn’t deny him. you loved the feeling, the feeling of being filled with his cock and his seed.

just making you his in the simplicity of his movements. he panted heavily as you did, both of you coming down from your releases. he moved his hand away from your chest. rubbing his fingers in lazy strokes over your stomach. you tilted your head up to look at him from where it rested on his shoulder.

he looked down at you with his hooded blue eyes, dilated with the arousal that he was coming down from. “morning.” he said in a low voice, his cock still inside of you, just letting you be full for a little while longer.

“good morning.” you replied sleepily, your eyes opening and closing to take him in. he lowered his mouth to yours, pressing a soft but searing kiss to your lips.

and it was a good morning. every morning with him was, intertwined with him like a knotted rope that you didn’t want to undo. because together you fit so well, and why mess with the lazy imperfection when it suited you both so well in the first place?

an: god, would love to wake up like that. i’m sure ur guys horny asses can back me up on that one lol. this idea had been sitting in my drafts for so long so i just decided to finish it and give it to you guys. i’m almost finished with two oneshots out of the millions in my drafts. my requests take me the longest, especially with my new job. but i’m doing my best to get them done for you guys. my masterlist and taglist are linked at the beginning if they’re any interest to you. please reblog, like and interact. i love you all, kisses. xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable (taglist is linked above if you’d like to join or if your interested!!)

[boltwrites]

logan absolutely acting like a starved man eating your pussy PLEASE i’m taking whining groaning BEGGING for you jesus christ

A/N: hello yes. also love that out of the 6 requests i received, 2 of them are about logan giving oral. we have Expectations for this man.

anyway, i'm kind of out of practice when it comes to smut, apologies lmao

By clicking read more you verify that you are at least 18 years old

"Come on-"

You stumbled back, shins colliding with the foot of the bed as you fell flat on your ass, scrabbling against the sheets to prop yourself up on your elbows. You didn't want to miss a damn second of this. It was your fault, anyway - why Logan was acting like this, why he looked like a man starved - you'd been teasing him all night. Not even subtly, like you enjoyed at times. No, this had been filthy. Scandalized. It had left him open mouthed, practically panting. Sending you hungry, sinful looks from across the room. Shifting his weight from one hip to the other as he tried to look casual adjusting his jeans. And you just kept pushing.

Well, he'd pushed back. Pushed you right through the door of your room, until your ankles smashed into the box spring and your ass hit the bed.

You couldn't help but stare at the man. His pupils were blown wide with lust, chest heaving and hair rumbled at the front, little beads of sweat gathering at his brow. If you didn't know him better, you could have mistaken it for anger, for rage -

But you knew better. You knew that look for what it really was - pure, feral lust.

He stalked forward, with all the danger and power of a predator. The door slammed behind him - when had he grabbed it? - and he didn't even bother to lock it. Trivial things like that - he didn't have time for them. Not when his gaze was locked on you.

You pressed against the rumbled bedcovers with the flat of your palms. Even if logically you knew he just wanted to fuck you, you still responded instinctually to that primal urge inside you to put distance between yourself and danger. Your heels dug into the edge of the bed, to try and crawl further back - but Logan cocked his head to the side, eyebrow raised and gaze narrowing.

"Now... where do you think you're going?"

This was about the time of the night when all your bravado flew straight out the window. All the tools you'd used so far tonight - a tactical flutter of your lashes, the drag of your instep across the seam of his jeans under the table, a filthy, depraved scene whispered against the shell of his ear - they all shattered in an instant when he finally, finally got a chance to act on those fantasies. Because you knew it would be better.

You stilled - you likely looked every bit the deer in headlights as he closed the gap between you with two measured strides, calloused hands wrapped around your calves and tugging.

You gasped, ass dragging along the bed until you were flush with the edge, Logan looming over you like an oncoming storm.

His eyes locked with yours, fingers squeezing tighter as his jaw clenched, flexing the muscles there as his gaze flit from your lashes to your lips, then, to the anxious, excited bob of your throat.

"All night whispering filthy shit in my ear and now you're speechless. That's how it goes, isn't it?" he smirked, then. A devilish, wry thing that stirred something low in your stomach.

"I-" you started, and he shook his head, nudging your knees apart with his own.

"Oh no, you don't need to start now," he chuckled, low and conspiratorial. "You just need to do what I tell you to. Take your pants off."

Oh god. You shivered - you recognized that tone, the glint in his eye. You'd pushed him just far enough for this - for a side of him you only glimpsed on the rarest of occasions.

Usually, when you teased him, he'd rip his shirt off and toss you onto the bed, tug your hair and handle you with that sweet, rough touch. You craved from from him, when he'd been gone for too long or you'd been too caught up in your own work to care for either of your needs.

Rarely, you'd push some invisible button and he'd channel that energy into torturing you with the concept of pleasure - nudging you to the precipice of release and pulling you back over and over and over until there were tears running down your cheeks and it was all you could do to cry his name, beg for that release.

But this - this was more. You'd pressed further, led Logan through the thralls of insatiable carnal desire and set him down just beyond that. Here, the heat of his own desire had been dulled as you teased and taunted and smirked, denying him the attention he needed over and over until the craving for his own release had been pruned, supplanted with the bone-deep hunger for your pleasure, to leave you ruined, so drunk on his touch that you'd wonder why you would have ever chosen social norms over his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

Obviously, you played this game because you were a gambler. Rolling the dice hoping you'd come across the very same looking in his eye you were staring at in this exact moment.

Jackpot.

You nodded - hands shaking with anticipation as you unlatched the button of your jeans, unfurled the zipper after. You sat eye level with his belt buckle, the denim below it straining with how hard he was for you. Maybe if you just reached out and -

"Off," he hissed. He was in control here. You'd had that chance earlier tonight, and you'd squandered it on dirty talk with no destination, no point or purpose.

You obeyed his request instead - slid your hands under your clothes, wiggling your way out of everything that covered you -

And Logan fell to his knees - no grace, no poise as he gathered the fabric that had pooled around your ankles and threw it to the far side of the room, eyes dark and determined.

Oh, was he -

He clawed at your thighs, your ass - dragged you to the edge of the bed before he splayed his hands flat against your thighs, strong fingers spreading open your legs as his focus narrowed down to the slick mess you'd become.

Oh, fuck.

He breathed, ragged - shoulders shaking as took a last, gasping breath before he dove into you.

You cried out - how could you not, as his nails dug against the flesh of your ass, damn near lifting your hips off the bed. You fell back, spine arching as his sideburns scraped the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, at the junction of your legs and core. But that was nothing compared to his tongue - the tongue he use to carve his way inside you, lapping at you like you were all that could sustain him. It massaged you from the inside out, laving along your walls like some insane perversion of a kiss.

You keened into his touch - tried to use what little leverage you had to roll your hips against his lips - only to be stopped by his fierce hold on your ass, your thighs. It was all you could do to dig your nails into the sheets, your other hand threading through his hair and scraping along his scalp, tangling in those tresses and tugging, as if you could bury him inside you like this.

And he did his damndest. He was ravenous - you couldn't tell through your own cries of pleasure, but you could have sworn you heard him growl. He kissed and suckled against you, pressing himself ever closer -

And you keened as his nose grazed against your clit, thighs shaking with need as his eyes - that had previous been closed in reverent, absolute focus - snapped open to find your own as he leaned against that hand in his hair, and ground his nose to your throbbing clit.

You damn near screamed, bucking against his lips, his vice-like grip on your hips, his damn nose - as he all but nuzzled you to completion, drinking in your release like a fine wine even as you twitched and gasped for air in his hold.

But he wasn't anywhere near done. The noise he made as he dragged his tongue out of your folds was absolutely obscene, and you damn near sobbed at how, even though you'd just come, you still ached for him.

And he knew it. He hummed - low, pleased, as he removed a hand from your shaking thigh to trail through the wet mess he'd left, teasing them just at the edge of your entrance so you could feel every ridge of his callouses. The texture of those fingers had a soft, desperate noise leaving your lips as he finally dipped them into you - so slow that you could sob from it.

And you did sob - more like you screamed when hot breath washed over your clit, followed by the flat drag of a tongue.

"Fuck! Logan-!" You cried, thighs clenching around his jaw, heels digging into his back. You didn't know if you wanted to pull him closer or kick him square in that adamantine skull. You squeezed around his fingers, tight and needy, but that attention on your oversensitive clit sent sparks of pleasure-pain up your spine, your core flexing as you tried to take it.

But that was the thing - he knew you could take it. Knew that with his fingers inside you, with his lips wrapped around your clit, that soon that little flicker of pain would fade to crashing, blinding pleasure. He knew you loved it when he ate you out like this - lapped against your clit, sucked it until you were spiraling over again. That the first round was just a test to see how easily he could get you off. He had you now. And he wasn't letting you go.

He hummed against you, tongue narrowing to a point as he curled it around your clit, peppering you with sloppy kisses as he worked you through the sparking fire of too much, too soon. His fingers helped to calm the sting - he massaged against your walls, rocking in and out until he found that spot inside you with a slightly altered resistance, and then he set to work.

His free hand vacated your hip. Instead, he splayed it low across your stomach as he curled those fingers inside you. You cried his name - needy and desperate as he somehow managed to make two fingers feel like so much more.

All that, even while those circles he was drawing with his tongue tightened, adjusting to the way your hand pressed over his on your stomach, how the fingers curled in his hair loosened just slightly, drifted lover to scratch along the scruff of his jaw as you relaxed under him, until the little jitters of that muscle in your thigh were few and far between.

Then he wrapped his lips around you and sucked.

You screamed - actually, truly screamed his name. Your hips jolted, your nails dug into his skin as his tongue ravished you, cheeks hollowed as he worked you over like a practiced musician at his preferred instrument. His fingers curled - oh god, when had he added a third - and your back arched, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

It wasn't frantic and ever present, like your first orgasm - that had been simple work after a night of teasing, of purposeful denial. That had been a foregone conclusion. But this - this was careful, calculated, expert - and the pleasure built like floodwater against a dam, as he worked you just so he knew when you did come, your vision would blur at the edges and you'd shake apart harder than anything else.

His fingers curled, his wrist snapped as he thrust them into you, as his palm flattened against your stomach, his tongue flicked over your clit, his lips so tight, so perfect -

You don't remember what you screamed. It might have been his name, it might have been a plea for mercy - or maybe it was just a scream.

No matter what it was, he worked you through it with his tongue, his fingers, his lips.

And when you blinked up at him, bleary, corner of your mouth wet with either spit or tears - you caught that look. That feral look.

He wasn't done with you. Not even close.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has to preserve your dignity in the most awkward way possible. He's ready for a relaxing few days off at Christmas with your parents, but their visit gets off to a rocky start. But by the end of their trip, Bradley is once again feeling as hopeful for the future as you are. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, titty fuck, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

It might have been amusing if it was happening to someone else, but it definitely wasn't. It was happening to him. Bradley looked at the time as he backed his Bronco out of the driveway at top speed and took off down the street. You and he should have been leaving now to get to the airport on time to pick up your parents, but that was just going to have to wait.

"Jesus Christ," he growled, barely pausing at the stop sign after he made sure nobody was coming. Bradley Ross was still packing up his truck not five minutes ago, so he couldn't have gone far. Through polite conversation, Bradley knew that the contractor lived a little further south in Coronado, so hopefully he could catch up to him quickly.

Bradley loved you with his whole being. You were the smartest, most capable person he had ever met. You also had pregnancy hormones on the brain, and if you weren't currently forgetting full conversations you'd had, you were falling asleep on a whim. Getting dirty photos from you was always a welcome distraction, but right now, you needed to focus a little extra on everything. Apparently having two Bradleys around was not the best idea.

"Yes," Bradley gasped, hitting the accelerator even though he was approaching a red light. The white Ross Construction pickup truck was stopped and waiting, and he cut into the other lane to pull up right next to it. "Shit," he groaned, realizing he couldn't roll his passenger side window down from the driver's seat. He started honking his horn before the light turned green, and the other Bradley turned to look at him in surprise, but his expression immediately melted into apprehension. It was obvious he'd seen the pictures. "God damn it."

After gesturing wildly for him to pull over, the light turned green, and Bradley was relieved when the truck moved through the intersection and then stopped in front of the first house. He pulled the Bronco over in front of the truck and hopped out as soon as he killed the engine. This was about to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life, and he'd had his share.

"Hey," he said as calmly as he could as the other man put his window down. Then he cleared his throat and sighed. "You may have received a text message from my wife in error."

He was met with bright red cheeks and guilt ridden eyes, and Bradley felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as his nostrils flared. Fucking hell, this man had seen your tits.

"Uh, I'm assuming that the mix-up occurred because of our names?" he asked. Bradley could see his phone sitting in the cupholder, and he wanted to snap it in half. 

"That's right," he replied through gritted teeth. How the fuck was he supposed to proceed here? He needed to make sure your dignity was as intact as it could possibly be at this point, and if he had to get a little aggressive, he would. "Mind letting me see your phone?"

The other man reached for it slowly, and Bradley watched him unlock it as he said, "I only saw the message preview when I started driving."

"But you saw it," Bradley snapped, rubbing his temple as he held out his other hand palm side up.

"Yeah."

Once the phone was in his hand, he confirmed that the message was still unread. At least there was that. While Bradley Ross may have seen your glorious breasts for himself, at least he'd only have his memory to rely on from here on out. He took his time and deleted each of the three photos. Then he emptied out the trash folder. Then he double checked that there was no trace of the photos anywhere before he deleted your contact information from the man's address book. After one more quick sweep to be sure his wife's tits were nowhere to be found, he handed the phone back to the abashed looking man.

He wasn't going to apologize for chasing him down, and he wasn't going to threaten him for something you started. Instead Bradley merely muttered, "Happy holidays," before returning to his Bronco and sliding into the seat.

He didn't realize how much his heart was pounding until he was sitting there in the silent interior, watching the Ross Construction truck pull away. He dug your phone out of his pocket while he started to calm down. When he entered your pass code, he saw that you had a new text from Cam but nothing else. Out of extreme caution, he blocked the other Bradley's phone number before deleting it from your address book, and then he started up the engine.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with her?" he muttered to himself as he pulled a u-turn and headed home. He thought about spanking you, but he was certain you'd just enjoy yourself. Frankly he would too. He wanted to lecture you about always checking the recipient before trying to send him something dirty, but he knew you probably already felt badly enough. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw you peering out the front window, waiting for him. Then he walked inside with his fingers wrapped around both phones and found you standing in the middle of the living room.

"What happened?" you asked, worrying your hands in front of your pregnant belly. Your eyes were wide, and you bit down on your lip, clearly beyond concerned to hear what he had to say. All thoughts of scolding you fled his mind, and when he opened his arms, you rushed toward him. 

"I took care of it. Deleted everything from his phone."

"On my god," you moaned, your belly pressing against him as you sighed in relief. He wrapped his arms around you as you settled against his chest and looked up at him. "Did he see the photos?" you asked softly. When he nodded, you winced. "I'm so sorry, Roo."

Tears filled your eyes as he sighed and looked around the room. The house was spotlessly clean, and the mostly undecorated Christmas tree was standing tall in the corner by the window. Everything was ready for your parents to get here, but neither of you made a move to leave. 

"I'm not mad at you, Sweetheart. It's not like you sent them to him on purpose," he whispered.

"I would never," you replied, voice filled with conviction. "These are all yours. And soon to be Rosie's." You patted your chest, and Bradley smiled.

"She's the only one I'm dividing my time with." He kissed your forehead. "We should leave to get your parents before it gets any later."

You agreed, and Bradley got you all buckled into the red Bronco. Of course there was a ton of traffic now that it was the peak of rush hour, and shortly into the drive you told him, "My dad texted me. They already landed."

"They're just going to have to wait," he replied, trying his best to merge onto the highway.

You were silent for a few minutes while you messed around on your phone, but finally you asked him, "Did you at least like the pictures?"

Bradley glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. "Of your tits?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "You didn't say anything about them."

He was practically ramming into other cars to try to find a spot in the parking garage at San Diego International after chasing down another man and forcefully demanding he hand over his phone, and you were honestly worried about whether or not he liked the way your boobs looked in the photos. He barked out a laugh as he swung the Bronco into a spot and parked. 

"What?" you asked, frowning at him. "You've been very vocal about them!"

He gestured for your phone, and you handed it to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Even though the two of you were late, he took a moment to really look at the photos in question again. He liked the first one where it looked like you were about to spill out of your bra. The second was just as nice since you were showing off your breasts and your wedding rings. And the third one was the main event, literally a vivid depiction of where he currently most enjoyed letting himself unload after he fucked you.

"Yes, Baby Girl. I like the pictures. In fact, I love them." He texted them from your phone to his, making sure he had the correct name selected before he gave your phone back. "And I'd love to see them in person when we get home later if you're in the mood."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed your thighs together. "I'll almost certainly be in the mood," you informed him as you opened your door.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, and you glanced back at him as he smirked. "How about you let me be the resident photographer for the time being?"

---------------------------------

Your mom and dad looked annoyed when the two of you showed up late to retrieve them from the airport after weeks of assuring them that you'd pick them up without issue, but as soon as they saw your belly, they calmed down.

"Look at you!" your mom gushed, rubbing her hands together before placing them on your bump. "How's our sweet granddaughter?" she asked as Bradley started to collect their luggage.

"Very active," you told her with a smile. "She'll start doing somersaults if you wait there long enough."

"Really?" your dad chimed in, coming to stand with your mom after helping Bradley. That's how you ended up with four hands plastered to your midsection while your husband stood behind you and kissed your ear.

"Want to tell them her name?" he whispered, his lips brushing your skin. You had to assume he wasn't too upset about Bradley Ross and the boob photos if he was still just as loving as always. 

Of course your mom heard every word he said and practically shouted, "You picked out a name?"

You nodded as your parents both stared at you. "Rose."

"Rose!" your mom gasped like she'd just won the lottery.

"That's pretty," your dad mused, and that's when the baby started thumping in what seemed like delight. "I feel her!"

"So do I! Hi, Rose! It's your Nana!"

You desperately wanted to go home and eat dinner, but you stood there until your parents wore themselves out asking questions and trying to feel the baby move. Eventually Bradley said, "You must be tired and hungry. There's food at the house, and the attic renovation is done and ready for you."

"Perfect," your mom replied. "You can just tuck us away up there, and we'll be out of your hair."

"That's the idea," Bradley muttered, and you elbowed him hard in the ribs as he led the way outside, pulling the massive suitcase behind him. "Watch it, Sweetheart, or I'll tell them why we were late."

"You wouldn't," you whispered.

He just shrugged. "You think I care if they know you tried to send me dirty pictures? Really, it just shows how much you love me."

You rolled your eyes as he smirked while your parents chattered away about how crazy it was to spend Christmas in California for the first time ever.

-------------------------

Bradley thought your parents would be exhausted and in bed as soon as he started cleaning up from dinner, but your dad headed for the nursery to inspect the new furniture which was still in the boxes, and your mom started unpacking your childhood Christmas ornaments from her carry on bag.

"Oh!" you gushed as she handed some to you. "I forgot about these! Bradley, look! It's my handprint from when I was four!"

You were holding up a seriously hideous green and purple Play Doh blog that Tramp was trying to lick, but he couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we can make one with Rosie each year," he mused as you hung it on the tree.

"We have to," you told him as you unwrapped another homemade ornament. You got lost in conversation with your mom, so he wandered to the nursery to see what your dad was up to.

"Hey," he said from the doorway with a little chuckle. Your dad was sitting on the floor with all of the crib parts laid out around him.

"Just checking to make sure everything's here," he muttered, counting a handful of screws. "We're probably going to want to get started on this project first thing in the morning so we have time to get it all done."

"Sure," Bradley agreed. "Thanks again for agreeing to help me with it."

"Happy to help," he murmured, adjusting his reading glasses to peruse the instruction booklet. "Happy to help." Your dad stood and rubbed his back before following Bradley out of the room. They found you and your mom out on the back patio with the lights on, looking at the massive playset.

"It's so cute!" your mom said.

"It's over the top," you responded. "Bradley just had to have it."

"He's going to be a good dad. Give him a break. I can't believe he built this thing by himself."

"Jake helped him," you told her.

"Jake helped a tiny bit," Bradley announced, and you turned to look at him with a little smile. "You know what would be fun?"

"Hmm?" you hummed, and your parents both turned to look at him.

"We could put strings of lights on the playset."

"That's a great idea, Roo!" The three of you were immediately discussing whether the lights should be white or colorful, and you were clapping your hands in excitement. Having your parents out for a California Christmas, especially with the Nugget coming soon, just felt right. The tree he picked out already looked better covered in your ornaments, and your dad was going to help him knock some of his projects off his to-do list. 

He didn't feel awkward in his own skin like he did on occasion when he missed his mom so much it hurt. She would have loved every second of your pregnancy. She would have been on the phone every night, bugging the hell out of him, but Bradley would do anything to have her back. When you slipped your hand into his, he pulled you closer and said, "I'm happy your parents are here."

You kissed him right in front of them and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. He vaguely heard your parents say they were going to head up to bed and to have a good night which was convenient, because after everything that happened today, he was ready to be alone with you.

"Come on," he whispered when you broke the kiss. "I want to snuggle with you and Rosie." He called Tramp inside, and you led him toward the bedroom with your hand held loosely in his. But you didn't head for the bathroom or climb into bed. Instead you pulled his shirt off and tugged down his gym shorts and underwear before pointing to the bed.

"Have a seat," you told him, his cock shamelessly responding to you, already bobbing excitedly in anticipation of what was to come. Wordlessly, he took a seat at the edge of the bed and watched you pull your shirt over your belly and all the way off. His lips and hands were on your bump, and when you pulled your sports bra over your head, his mouth found your breasts. 

"I've got a little treat for you, Roo," you told him, brushing your fingers through his hair as he pulled your nipple between his lips. You moaned softly and added, "For being the best husband earlier and chasing down the man I accidentally texted dirty pictures to."

He grunted and grinned as he let your nipple pop free. "This is all mine," he said as he gestured at your body, and you nodded vigorously. 

"Absolutely." When you took a step toward your nightstand, he whined softly, but when you returned to him with a small bottle of lube in your hand, his eyes lit up.

"What are you doing, Baby Girl?" His voice sounded excited even to his own ears, and he had to reach down to stroke himself as you drizzled the clear lube onto your own breasts before tossing the bottle aside. "What are you gonna let me do to you?"

He swallowed hard as you ran both of your hands slowly along your tits until they were glistening. "I'm going to do all the work," you told him. "Just relax." When you went to kneel in front of him, Bradley helped you get down with his hands on your biceps. And then you took his cock between your lips as your silky, slick fingers glided across his balls.

"Fuck," he sighed, enjoying the sight of your shiny breasts, and a second later his length was sandwiched beautifully between them. "Oh my god."

You smiled up at him as you squeezed your tits together until he was grunting loudly, and then you moved your body slowly up and down. He watched his own cock disappear between your breasts and then reappear over and over. He was mesmerized by the smooth glide and the immaculate view he had of your face and chest. 

"Feel good?" you asked, and he nodded like an idiot as he ran his thumb along the perfect curve of your cheek. "You can touch me, Daddy."

"Oh hell." He let his thumb drift down to your nipple as you held him in place and fucked him with your tits until his balls were tight and his leg was shaking. You started kissing at his tip each time it was near your lips, and he had to grab at the bedding to keep himself in check.

After a few more slow movements, you reached for his hands and placed them where yours had been, on the outside of each breast. He squeezed himself in there tight as you said, "Go for it, Roo." Once you were holding onto his thighs to keep yourself steady, Bradley fucked your tits and played with your nipples until he was whining your name. 

He knew the attic renovation had been a great idea, but he was surprised it was paying off so soon. Your body felt magical as he went a little faster, and then he was spurting his cum everywhere. Your chin, lips and chest were painted white with his seed, and it dripped down to your belly as your tongue darted out to taste him. 

"Holy shit," he panted, looking everywhere for his phone. "I need a picture of this."

You reached into the pocket of his shorts which were on the floor and handed it to him. He took pictures of the pretty mess he made, including one where you were rubbing his cum along your skin. The swell of your belly was beautiful with his baby inside, and Bradley moaned as you licked the bead of cum from the tip of his cock. 

"You ready to snuggle?" you asked him, turning to kiss the inside of his thigh.

"Yeah." He really felt like he had it all.

----------------------------

In the days leading up to Christmas, Bradley and your dad managed to get the furniture built for the nursery with time to spare. "Can you pick a paint color, Sweetheart?" Bradley asked you on the twenty-third, holding up your final two favorites. "Your dad and I can probably get the room painted tomorrow if we go to the store today."

You looked back and forth between the sky blue sample and the rosy pink sample. "I love them both," you whispered, chewing on the tip of your thumb, indecision washing over you.

Bradley turned them around to look at them and seemed to have the same issue. "I have an idea. Will you let me make the decision?"

"Absolutely," you sighed, pleased that you didn't have to pull that trigger. "Whatever you want."

They sent you out for lunch with your mom and Nat on Christmas eve, which actually turned into a stop at the mall with all of the last minute shoppers. You didn't need to buy anything else, but you helped Nat pick out a few things, and your mom seemed amused. 

When you got home, all of the windows were open because the house smelled like paint, and your dad and Bradley were assembling something on the living room floor that you didn't know had even been purchased. "What's that?" you asked, eyeing your husband who couldn't seem to help but go overboard. "Bradley, I thought I put a cap on your spending for the baby!"

"It's from us," your parents said in unison.

"Oh."

"Oh," Bradley said, jokingly mimicking your voice. "I told you I was going to behave, and I have been behaving."

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "It is a chair?"

"Merry Christmas," your mom said. "It's a glider chair for the nursery. It'll be easier to feed her next to her crib so you can put her right back in bed when she's done. Not that my granddaughter will be anything but the sweetest little girl and most amazing sleeper."

Your eyes welled with tears as you hugged her. "Thanks for the overpriced chair. I love it."

Bradley stood with a soft grunt and reached for your hand. "If the smell isn't bothering you too much, can I show you the paint?"

"Yes," you said, wiping your eyes on his undershirt. You were suddenly so overwhelmed by how your parents came out for the holiday, but more than anything they were helping you get things ready for the next stage of life. Bradley led you down the hallway to the closed door and turned the knob. When he flicked the light on, you gasped. Three walls were blue, and the fourth wall was the dusty rose color you liked so much.

"I was thinking we could get the cloud decals for the blue walls and make the rosy wall look like a sunset," he said softly. "That could be pretty, right?"

You were fully crying now as you hugged him. "I think that sounds beautiful."

He kissed you as his hand settled on the sweet spot on your belly where he could usually feel a kick. "I just want my girls happy."

"We're happy with you."

The two of you spent a few minutes looking at the crib and the new dresser and the changing table. The bedding still needed to be washed, but it was folded on top of the dresser, and you ran your hand along the pastel airplanes and clouds. "I can't wait to meet her."

Bradley held you close and said, "I hope she's just like you."

When you finally walked back out to the kitchen, you were still swiping at your tears. Your mom was putting together some simple finger foods for Christmas Eve dinner, and your dad was putting the finishing touches on the new chair. There were Christmas carols playing softly through your wireless speaker, and you just didn't think the tears were going to stop.

You turned to your husband and quietly sobbed, "I wish your parents were here. I think about them so much, and I hate that I never got to meet either one of them."

"Shhh. Don't cry, Sweetheart," he crooned pulling you to his chest again. "I don't want you to cry." He was quiet for a moment as you looked at the tree, your tears turning the lights into a streaky mess. "My mom would have loved you. And she would have been over the moon for the baby. Just like your parents are. I know it's not fair. I think about it every fucking day, but I don't want you to cry when we still have so much."

You clung to him a little tighter as Rosie did a somersault. "You're right."

Your parents didn't seem concerned when Bradley held you a while longer. Then the four of you ate dinner, and you dipped literally everything into your favorite hot sauce. Then you brought the presents out from their hiding spot in the bathroom closet and set them under the tree while Bradley cleaned up the kitchen. Your mom and dad were already fast asleep by the time you climbed into bed and yawned.

"Can I read to you from the Nugget Notebook?" Bradley asked as he pulled the covers back on his side and got in as well.

"Of course," you whispered, tossing your glasses on your nightstand and snuggling up next to him.

He cleared his throat and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. "Hey, Rosie. Your mom is so funny. She thinks I've been buying you an exorbitant amount of stuff. She's completely correct. I have been. But you know who's even worse than me? Your grandparents."

-----------------------------

Bradley never let his expectations get ahead of himself on holidays. He spent two decades mostly on his own, doing very little celebrating. But that was before you. By seven o'clock in the morning, you were yanking him out of bed. When he tried to reach for your belly to say good morning, you swatted his hands away and gave him a quick kiss. "Rosie says Merry Christmas. Now let's get up."

"Jesus," he grunted. "What's the rush, Sweetheart?"

You kissed him again and said, "I promised your cousin Brenda we would FaceTime with her, and it's already late in Virginia."

He just stared at you. Somehow you always remembered everything and everyone. He knew you sent cards to his family members, and he knew Brenda would appreciate talking to the two of you. "You're the sweetest thing," he said as he climbed out of bed. 

He pulled on his gray sweatpants before following you out of the bedroom. Your parents were already up wearing their matching pajamas, and the whole house smelled like cinnamon rolls and coffee. "Merry Christmas," your mom greeted, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and Bradley did a double take when he saw the tree. There were at least twice as many presents there now as when he went to bed. 

"What's this?" he asked. "It actually looks like Santa came."

"Oh, we just brought a few things with us," your mom said. "Things for Rose. And some treats for Tramp."

"Jesus," he muttered as you handed him the iPad. "The baby isn't even here yet, and they just keep getting worse."

You nodded as you dialed Brenda's number, and when she answered, you asked how she was and showed off your bump before handing the call over to Bradley to have a few minutes alone with his mom's favorite cousin. Then he ate six cinnamon rolls and gave himself a stomach ache before it was time to open the enormous pile of presents.

There were onesies and pacifiers and bibs. Toys and a crib mobile that matched the bedding. Bottles and diapers and teething rings and little floral bath towels. Bradley was completely overwhelmed, and he kind of felt terrible when he handed your parents the set of cutting boards and the laser level you and he picked out for them.

"This is for you." He looked up as you held out a box with a smile on your face. "Well, it's for you and for Rosie."

Bradley's heart skipped a beat as you and your parents watched him unwrap a box, and when he pulled the lid off, his face broke out into a huge smile. You and he had matching shirts, and now he'd be able to match with his Nugget, too. "I love it," he said softly, holding up a large shirt and a very small one. The pink floral design was the same color as the bedroom wall he'd just painted yesterday, and the fabric was very soft. "Thank you, Sweetheart." 

He kissed you and handed you the tiny box he had tucked back behind all the others. He felt a little nervous giving it to you with your parents here, but it didn't really matter. They would see it eventually anyway. When you opened the little jewelry box and met his eyes, you said, "Help me put it on." He leaned in closer and unclasped your necklace chain. You wore the airplane charm and the little dog tag that said Baby Girl every day, and now you'd have another one with them. "It's absolutely perfect," you whispered as you slid the gold rose onto the chain.

"Just like my girls," he promised. "When she's old enough, I'll buy one for her, too, so you can match."

"I love you." You mashed your lips against his as you crawled to his lap, and Bradley didn't stop your parents from making a detour to the kitchen to start prepping for dinner.

-------------------------------

After Christmas dinner, the four of you drove around in the red Bronco to look at lights. You made a quick trip to drop off presents for Jeremiah, and then you and Bradley stopped by to say goodbye to Bob. He looked like he was glued to Maria, so you took that as a good sign.

"I'll never get over the palm trees covered in lights," your mom remarked from the backseat while Christmas music played on the radio.

You played with your new necklace charm as you said, "I think there are a lot of things here that will always look weird to us."

"We're hardy east coast people," Bradley murmured as he turned back onto your street. "Look, they decorated a cactus," he said in disgust, and you started laughing. 

"Is that house for sale?" your dad asked, pointing out the window. "It's hard to tell in the dark."

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's been on the market for a few weeks. It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"The last thing we need is a fixer upper," your mom told your dad, and your heart beat a little faster. 

"Dad, are you going to retire?" you asked, too afraid to even ask the more pertinent question on your mind as you played with Bradley's fingers on your lap.

"It's within the realm of possibilities," your dad replied. "Your mom wants to move a little closer to the two of you."

"Three!" she said. "Rose will be here before we know it!"

"The three of you," your dad corrected.

This wasn't the first time this topic had been discussed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. "Are you still thinking California?"

You dad laughed. "Your mom is obsessed with the Coronado housing market."

"Obsessed is a strong word," she said, and you gave Bradley's hand a little squeeze.

"Tell me we just finished the attic for nothing," your husband mumbled as your parents argued in the backseat, but you just leaned in and kissed him.

"Aww, come on, Roo. Rosie can make one of those rooms her bedroom in a few years," you told him. "You know, so there's separation."

He grunted in approval, and then your dad asked, "Could you leave the car keys out for us to drive around a bit in the morning before you take us to the airport? The two of you can sleep in while we check out the area a little bit more."

"Absolutely," you told him as Bradley pulled back into the driveway of your cute Craftsman with all the extra bedrooms and the strings of lights around the windows. Your parents climbed out of the back, but you tugged on Bradley's hand to keep him in place. "Can I have another one of my million orgasms while they're driving around tomorrow morning?"

He ran his rough thumb along your cheek and kissed you. "My Baby Girl can have absolutely anything she fucking wants."

-------------------------------

Roo gives the best gifts. The nursery is virtually finished and so is the playset. Now we wait for the Nugget to finish cooking. A shower and a babymoon and trouble are on the way soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[chelseeebe]

still into you, part 2

eddie’s back, keeping to his word while trying to make up for his past mistakes. will it all work out when your worlds collide?

sauurrr i feel like i want to do a part 3 bc i have ideas but i’m not sure !!??!! also i just wanna say that it’s felt sooo good seeing people in my notifications again, tumblr finally unshadowed me after emailing them god knows how many times !!

18+, mdni. smut. a lil bit of angst and mean words towards reader and mentions of pregnancy. no use y/n!

read part 1 here.

‎♡‧₊˚

he’s late.

you’d spoken on the phone this morning and eddie had told you he’d be back some time tonight and that you should wait up because it’ll be worth it.

and now he’s fucking late.

late or not even coming.

it had been a long month of phone calls and anxiously reading magazine articles about his whereabouts, learning to trust again hadn’t been easy. there had been a handful of times where he’d called too late and missed you or you’d called while he was out which meant you’d gone days without speaking.

steve had done his best to reassure you that it was just different out there and you shouldn’t worry. he’d made a promise, right?

but there’s a pressure in your chest now, a feeling you hadn’t felt since the first time he left. defeated and dejected once again.

eddie is so late that you fall asleep on the couch. the same couch you first kissed him on just a few weeks ago. your dreams are filled with images of eddie, the wide smile that graced his face when ella forced him into fairy wings or the look on his face when you’d roll over in the middle of the night and kissed the corner of his mouth.

you’re awoken by a soft palm cupping your cheek, eyes peeking open to see the familiar silhouette of curls and denim now illuminated by the flickering television, deep set frown on his lips.

“i’m so sorry,” he starts, the words sound like static in your barely conscious mind, “my plane was delayed and i couldn’t call you.. i’m so fucking sorry,” you realise he’s on his knees in front of the couch, still squinting as you adjust to the light.

“i thought you weren’t coming,” you murmur, placing your hand atop his, the pressure in your chest subsiding the more you realise that he’s actually real and not just a dream.

eddie sighs, it’s his fault for even giving you reason to have those doubts and that kills him. “of course not.. i made a promise,” his thumb strokes gentle patterns into your cheek, “i’m coming back, always.”

“mhm,” you nod, a mix of tiredness and a lingering lack of trust.

“you wanna go to bed?” he asks, desperate to get in your good books again. hell, he’d have to do far more than this to make seven years of shit up to you.

“only if you carry me,” offering your arms out, if ella can do it, you can to.

“obviously,” he chuckles, sliding his arms underneath your knees, hoisting you off of the couch.

you’re anything but quiet walking up stairs, giggling into his neck as he groans his way up the staircase. “fuck, i’m getting old,” he complains, backing his way into your room, gently laying your body on top of the duvet before knocking the door shut.

you nestle into the pillows, watching eddie as he undresses, his jacket hitting the floor with a soft thud. he’d only been gone a month but you’d missed his presence. the way his eyes glided over your body, enamoured by your less-than-impressive mom body.

he collapses onto the bed, shuffling underneath the blanket with you, reaching out to bring you closer. “i know i said..” his nose pokes against your neck, a deep inhale before he continues, “that it’d be worth it.. but i’m tired and you’re tired so.. can i just make it up to you tomorrow?” nuzzling against your soft skin.

your laugh vibrates against his cheek, sliding your arms around his neck, legs tangling together in a mess of limbs, “eddie munson turning down sex? jesus christ, what’s happened to you?”

eddie grunts, deep and husky, flipping the situation on it’s head as he clambers on top, “oh fuck you,” his barely holding himself up, body weight keeping you pressed firmly against the mattress.

“please do,” grinning up at him, marvelling the way that even in the dark, he was still the prettiest man you’d ever laid eyes on.

his lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your jawline, hips rutting against the thin material of your pajama shorts.

when his mouth meets the delicate spot between your collarbone and the crook of your neck, you can’t help but let slip the one thing you’d been waiting to say, “i’m glad you came back,” gasping as his teeth graze the fragile skin.

he pauses, looking up at you, basked in moonlight, “i’ll always come back to you,” mumbling quietly, before continuing his descent down your body.

your eyes flutter shut, allowing your body to relax, blissful desire overcoming every nerve.

holy shit, you were happy.

-

the next few months go by smoothly. he’s back when he says he’s going to be, keeping his nose clean and his head down while he’s out on the west coast.

of course it’s never easy saying goodbye. each and every time you’re filled with this sense of dread, petrified that this might just be the time he doesn’t return.

but he does.

each and every time.

eddie had got back late last night, still half-asleep as he sips his coffee next to ella, haphazardly feeding her the breakfast she was quite capable of feeding herself.

“i’ve been thinking,” he starts, watching as you busy about with dishes. he doesn’t understand how you have the energy to care about that shit this early in the morning. “i think you should come out to california with me.. next time i go back,” shoving a spoonful of mushy pancakes into ella’s mouth.

you pause but don’t turn to face him, staring down at the sink full of bubbles, “what for?”

that part of his life didn’t interest you one bit, maybe he enjoyed it and you were happy if he was but that wasn’t anything you wanted. in fact, you’d been meaning to bring it up for a while now.

you understood that dating eddie meant that strangers were far more interested in your relationship than they should be but they’d started to accost you at work, taking ella to and from school, just about anywhere in public. the attention was starting to get a little tiring, nothing you couldn’t handle but you’d wondered if he somehow had the power to stop them.

“well,” handing the spoon to ella and getting up from the table to join you at the sink, “we’ve got our album rollout soon so i’m gonna have to be out there a little longer this time,” his shoulder knocks into yours, pulling your attention from the dirty dishes, “but.. we have our release party and i want you to be there,” pulling that cheeky grin he knew you couldn’t say no to.

how much longer? he was already out there for weeks at a time, how much longer could they keep him? oh god what if they go on tour? you’d never cope.

“release party?” grabbing the dishcloth, wiping the suds from your hands, “i don’t even know what that is.. you don’t want me there,” turning to face him and his sickening smile.

“of course i do,” lips turning into a frown, taking the cloth from your hands, “it’s a small party.. the boys and their girlfriends.. a few people who helped on the album,” he’s serious now, dipping his head to meet yours. “they wanna meet you, everyone does.”

you sigh, looking into his gleaming eyes. you’re obviously apprehensive to agree, if the stories you’d heard of the other guys were anything to go by, that weren’t the goofy nerds you’d once watch practice all night, now you think you’d actually probably hate them.

“what about ella?” turning to look at your daughter, your one saving grace.

“i’m sure we can figure that out,” eddie blinks, “steve can have her or.. or his mom,” throwing out anything he could think of, “i’ll throw them some money, make sure she has the best week ever,” rubbing his fingers together.

“he won’t take your money eddie,” you sigh. steve would never, because as much as he now liked eddie, he was still your best friend and he knew you’d kill him if he did.

“no,” eddie whines, “it’s not for steve, it’s for ella.. so they can go and do whatever they want.. eat whatever they want.. you know,” he peers over your shoulder at the kitchen table, eyes gleaming with opportunity. “ella, don’t you think mommy should come with me and you can have a vacation at uncle steve’s house?”

you tut as ella chimes in with a loud, enthusiastic “yes!” banging her fists against the table.

your palm meets his chest, “don’t use my own child against me, asshole,” struggling to stop your lips from curling into a smile. it was working and you hated the fact that you were so easily swayed by him.

“ella has spoken!” he exclaims, taking your hand on his chest into his, “so you’ll come?” cocking his head to the side, much like a tiny, manipulative little dog.

you huff, admitting defeat, “fine.. but only if steve says yes and there’s no guarantee he will,” flicking your eyes back over to ella, who is watching with a massive toothy grin.

it’s times like these that you’re grateful she doesn’t take after her dad.

-

of course steve says yes. useless prick.

“why don’t you wanna go?” his brows furrowed, sipping the overpriced coffee he’d suggested you go get.

“can you imagine me in la? me? really?”

he chuckles, “yeah.. yeah i can actually,” shaking his head. knowing steve, he’d probably been thinking about how he would fit right in there. if you ever did end up moving west, there’s no way in hell that you’d leave him here.

“shut up,” brushing him off, “what if nobody likes me?”

it had been a genuine worry of yours since before eddie had even asked. there’d surely be a thousand eyes on you seeing as you were now very publicly with him. you paled in comparison to his exes. models and singers alike. you were just some frumpy mom who no one had ever heard of.

why would they like you?

“stop it,” steve swats at you, “they’ll love you! i love you so they’ve got no reason not to!”

but you weren’t so sure.

-

so after weeks of fretting about clothes and deliberating over whether you should even go with steve, you jet off to lax.

you’d attempted to pay for your own ticket but eddie hadn’t accepted any of it. told you it was all taken care of and all you had to do was go. much to your disapproval.

there are a few fans at the airport, with no interest in you, obviously. they were so used to him at indianapolis airport now that the paps didn’t even bother.

eddie’s excited babbling about the party keeps you relaxed throughout the flight, focussing on his smile and not the fact that you were thirty thousand feet in the air.

everything starts to feel real when you land and are immediately ushered through the airport, bundled into a car and told to stay put until they got your luggage.

holy shit.

“there’s some dickheads out front.. it’s just so we don’t see them,” eddie soothes, taking your hand into his, resting on his thigh.

“is it always like this?” you ask, curious about this side of his life that you never saw. even more grateful that people in indiana mostly left you alone now.

“sometimes.. but they’re only doing this because of the album.”

you nod, sitting in quiet reflection as people come and go constantly. bustling around the car, muttering things to eddie as they do. it all just seemed so overwhelming, like there was never a moment alone.

eventually, your bags get stuffed into the car and you begin the journey to god knows where, all the while clinging onto eddie’s hand with a iron tight grip.

when you turn into a gated driveway, you sit up. peering out of the window at the glorious garden. his drive was bigger than your entire house, you couldn’t imagine having this much room at your disposal.

his house is big. actually, big is an incredible understatement. it’s breathtaking.

nicer than anything you’ve seen before. you couldn’t even begin to materialise how much he must have spent. you’re not sure you even want to know.

the ceilings loom ten feet tall, walls covered in tasteful but overpriced art. the sofa alone probably cost more than your entire house. christ, it’s the size of your living room as it is.

“jesus christ,” you breathe, still taking in the lavish house, gawping at the tacky statues and the glistening glass chandelier hanging above your head.

“nice, isn’t it?” he states, still wheeling your suitcases behind him, “obviously i didn’t decorate it myself.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you smile, marvelling the rather excessive house, “you don’t need all of this,” gesturing around the room.

“hey,” he pouts, ditching the suitcases to make his away over to you, “this house used to be very useful when..” trailing off as he realises just what he was going to say.

“when what? when you were a whore?” you bite, only half-joking.

“woah,” awkwardly laughing, unsure of whether you were joking or not, “when i had parties,” correcting your presumptions, “but i’m a boring man now.. thanks to you,” his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his body.

your arms return the favour, tilting your chin to match his, “hmm is that right?”

his eyes are no longer on yours, gazing down at your lips with a twinkle of lust, “yup..”

“oh, well maybe i should just go..” but before you can finish, his hands are grabbing your ass, palming at the doughy flesh.

“uh uh,” pressing your heads together, pausing just before he connects your lips, “i’m never letting you leave now,” and with that, he finally kisses you.

skilfully walking you backward through the large foyer, still palming at your ass as he does so. you should’ve known that this was first on the agenda. there weren’t as many opportunities for the two of you to have sex at your house.

his lips hang from yours, leeching onto your bottom lip, palming at your sweater, eager to get it off. “i’ve thought about having you in every single room in this house..” he mumbles into your mouth, making your cheeks burn.

“every.. room?” you speak softly through kisses, bashful at his words.

“mmm,” he grumbles, hand slipping under the soft material of your sweater, brushing over the curve of your waist, “need you.. here,” walking your body back into the marble counter, your lips still barely connected, “in there,” gesturing back towards the grand living room, “everywhere,”

your thighs squeeze together in anticipation of it all. you were flying back home in a week, there was not a chance you’d get through the entirety of this massive house in that short time.

eddie growls into your mouth, hoisting your body onto the countertop in one swift movement, forcing his way between your legs. you can feel his cock already, pressed against your throbbing cunt.

his tongue slides into your mouth, moving against your own with hungry movements. you were too old for this kind of excitement, the ferocity was making your head spin.

his hands are quick, working your sweater off without much interruption, immediately finding your lips again. your hips cant, chasing the needed friction of his cock, eager to strip him from the rough denim.

“someone’s impatient,” a rough laugh echoes from his lips, but he’s obliging. unbuttoning your jeans before patting your thigh to move for him.

you do, letting his cold hands slide your jeans down your thighs, stuck around your ankles as he’s really not concerned with taking them off fully. you’re soaked already, can feel it when the fresh air hits your heat.

eddie’s focused now, his own pants pulled down around his knees, cock jumping in his boxers when your hand reaches out to touch his chest. you liked that. the fact that even now, you could control him with a simple touch.

“jesus baby,” he remarks, two fingers slipping between the crotch of your underwear, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this,” mouth hanging open as he works his way between your soaked folds and into your hole, eliciting a sharp gasp from your mouth.

he’s slow with it, curling his fingers at just the right spot, “oh god,” you whisper, one hand clinging to his forearm, the other holding onto the hard counter.

your eyes flutter shut, head rolling back, granting him access to your untouched neck. he immediately attacks the delicate skin, no doubt leaving his mark like some unruly teenager.

“need you now baby..” he grumbles, removing his hand from between your legs and nudging his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring up, already leaking with pre-cum.

“yeah.. yeah,” muttering into the room, heels attaching around his hips, urging him to speed things up.

his hair brushes against your neck as he gazes down between your bodies, staring in awe at the way they connected, almost losing all composure when his cock nestles between your folds and slides perfectly into your quivering cunt.

pretty pink lips parting to groan when he bottoms out, savouring the feeling for just a moment before his hips take over. his pelvis connects with the backs of your thighs, finding his rhythm, seeking whatever pace made you the loudest.

your quiet squeaks aren’t enough for him, after years of being quiet, you’re not used to having the freedom to be loud.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he pants, hand skirting around your hip, squeezing the flesh, “i wanna hear you,” slipping out of your cunt, refusing to give you what you want without something in return.

your eyes open to eddie, staring right back at you, devilish grin on his lips, “don’t be mean,” you pout, squeezing your legs to pull him forward, huffing in frustration when he keeps back.

his forehead presses against yours, glossy eyed as he gazes into your eyes, “this what you want?” he bites before sinking back in, profanities tumble out of his mouth.

a disgusting whine finds itself at your lips, filling the space between you, drawing his gaze to your wetted lips. “that’s it baby,” thrusts starting to gain speed, his tip bullying your walls.

you can’t help but get louder, keeping your eyes trained on his dilated pupils, moaning with each time his pubic bone brushes against your starved clit. knuckles turning white as you grip onto the counter, chanting his name like some sort of mantra.

“there she is,” he pants, slamming into you with such speed that makes you feel as if you’re flying. it’s filthy how much the wet, pornographic noises your bodies are making spurs you on. only wanting to get louder to match them.

eddie’s thumb meets your neglected clit, circling the bud in line with his thrusts. the pleasure is overwhelming, sending your head into the clouds and your stomach hurtling toward your long-awaited orgasm.

��eddie..” drawing out his name, letting it echo through the decadent kitchen, “fuck,” fingernails leaving behind half-moon markings on his forearm, unsupported by the ruthless motion of his thumb against your clit.

you’re struggling to even stay with it, gasping for breath as your walls tighten around him. sighing as he begins to falter, “you gonna cum princess? huh?” beads of sweat beginning to form on his nose, holding his own orgasm off to allow you yours first.

“yeah.. yeah,” you babble nonsensically, “oh fuck.. oh eddie,” thighs trembling around his hips as you topple over the edge, holding onto the counter for dear life as your orgasm takes over.

body going numb as the fuzzy feeling takes over, watching his lips mouth that’s it and baby’s over and over. trying not to topple over as his cock continues to nudge against your spongy walls, slowing as his own orgasm begins.

“cum in me,” you urge, completely besotted by your own desire for him, “please,” resorting to begging when his eyes squeeze shut, unable to hold himself off any longer.

he grunts, you coax him through it, ankles still resting at the small of his back, unrelenting with their grip as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum, painting your walls. “shit- baby.. i- you-,” he puffs, “what the fuck,” throwing his head back, his messy fringe sticking to his damp forehead.

“sorry..” you mumble, ashamed by the way you turn into a ravenous monster around eddie, wanting to give him your all and nothing else.

“jesus christ don’t apologise,” his hands clamp around your cheeks, pulling your face to his for one final kiss, mumbling a quick i love you before helping you from the counter.

eddie’s in his element here, not that he didn’t make himself at home in your home, but this was his domain.

there’s a strange twinge in your heart, a rogue voice that occasionally makes an appearance, something that made you question whether he was really happy with your little life or if it was just something he was accepting for the time being.

you bury it down, refusing to let it grow into anything more and follow him down the hall, listening to him complain about his back.

-

nothing could’ve prepared you for the party. it couldn’t have been further from how eddie had initially sold it to you.

it’s all bright lights and thousands of people. expensive dresses and unfamiliar faces fill the room, prodding and poking at eddie and subsequently you. wanting to know the ins and outs of everything.

fuck. you think. this is suffocating.

there’s no release, people are fucking everywhere.

even after you gulp down a glass of wine, people whizz around you, echoing fake niceties about your dress or your hair or whatever materialistic bullshit they were pretending to care about.

eddie is a natural of course. he’s been doing this for years. he always had the ability to carry a conversation, to make people listen to him. you weren’t so lucky.

he’s prattling on about some sick riff on the new album now, barely giving you chance to let him know you’re going to the bathroom.

hoping to seek some solace from these vultures. you so wished steve was here. he’d make everything feel better, tell you that it was okay and that these people don’t deserve your time.

but he’s not. he’s a thousand miles away, probably tucked up in bed with ella. somewhere you longed to be.

after a long ten minutes in the cubicle, uttering a chorus of positive affirmations to yourself, you push your way out, right into the crowd of very glamorous women all stood in front of the mirrors. reapplying their makeup or touching up their already stiff hair.

one of the older ladies takes notice of you lingering behind, turning to face you with a smug smile, “you’re eddie’s new thing, aren’t you?”

venom laced between her words, rolling effortlessly off of her sharp tongue. the other women all turn in tandem, all narrowed eyes and faux smiles.

“uh.. i’m his girlfriend,” shaking their glances off, focusing on the stream of running water on your hands and not the prickly feeling at the back of your throat.

“oh! girlfriend!” she titters, barging into one of the other, “usually they don’t make it that far.. what d’you have that the others didn’t?” her icy gaze runs the length of your body.

no doubt judging your dress, the way your mom body sat in the lavish fabric. you don’t blame her. you’d hated it from the moment you first looked in the mirror.

“we..” clearing your throat to avoid your voice cracking, “we used to date.. in high school,” you could feel yourself physically shrinking, reverting back into the same quiet girl you were in school.

“aw sweet,” there’s not even a hint of sincerity in her nasally tone, “well you know, we all thought gigi was gonna be the one,” the other women nod in agreement, “he was just different with her.. everyone thought he was going to propose.. never seen him like that since,” nodding like she’d won a contest you weren’t even competing in.

her words sting, and she knows it. in fact, she relishes it. even though you know she’s only doing it for some sort of reaction, you still let them in. your heart prangs in your chest; now stood frozen in front of the basin.

“you have a kid, don’t you?” she continues, clearly unhappy with your lack of reaction. wanting to stick her claws in just a little deeper.

you nod, biting down hard onto the inside of your cheek. trying to swallow the growing lump in the back of your throat.

her eyes wander down once again, “yeah i thought so.. eddie always said he didn’t want kids,” tutting her shiny white teeth, “i wouldn’t expect him to hang around long, he’s at the peak of his career darling.. no time for high school sweethearts and their kids.”

and that’s it. the final blow. slicing through your chest, churning your guts from the inside out. a stranger had affirmed every single fear and doubt you’d had. crumbling the facade you’d curated for this fucking party.

you don’t even give her the satisfaction of a reply, or perhaps you give her exactly what she wanted, storming out of the bathroom with a trembling bottom lip and watering eyes.

instead of going straight back to eddie, you find a quiet corner, facing the wall as you collect yourself the best you can. your throat hurts, the lump struggling to disappear, tears threatening to spill over as you attempt to remember how to breathe.

eddie is higher than you’ve ever seen him before, relishing in the moment. he’s completely different out here. talking to any and every one, turning the charm on the second someone walks his way.

“eds,” mumbling quietly, tugging on his arm to garner his attention.

you hated him a little for even convincing you to come. why couldn’t he have just sent pictures? no fuck that, why couldn’t he have just stayed here and never forced his way back into your life?

you don’t mean it. you love him.

“hmm?” not quite looking at you.

“i wanna go back.. i don’t feel good.”

this is where he turns, focusing his attention on you, brows furrowing immediately, “what? what’s wrong?”

now, you could tell him. let him know that his friends were assholes and you were either going to burst into tears or run out of this place screaming. but decide to leave it until you’re back at his, there was no use in causing drama on his night.

“i just..” you sigh, dipping your head low so no one else could hear, “i don’t feel good.. maybe i’m sick,” it wasn’t a lie as such. your stomach had been turning all night but you’d brushed it off as anxiety, eager to not ruin the party.

“well-,” he begins but stops, “d’you want me to come with you?” though you can tell he really doesn’t want to. you don’t blame him.

eddie’s always been an extrovert, begging for people to pay attention to him, even if it meant tussling with basketball players or anyone else that dared to question his character. he just wanted people to notice him.

“no no.. i just wanted to let you know,” chewing on your bottom lip, his face becoming increasingly more concerned with every word. you hope he hasn’t noticed your watery eyes, not in the mood to have to explain what had happened right here, right now.

“okay.. we can go, it’s okay,” eddie soothes, picking up that something wasn’t right.

this is what you’d tried to avoid, not wanting to selfishly snatch him away from his event, his friends and his album launch.

“no.. stay here, i’ll be fine, just need to.. rest,” brushing him off, as if you wouldn’t kill to just curl up in his big bed, talking away all of the harsh comments you’d heard.

his expression becomes incredibly soft, despite the crowd surrounding the two you trying to pry, “you sure? i don’t mind..” he frowns, “i’ll come back with you, I don’t want you on your own if you feel that shitty,” already looking past you trying to catch someone’s eye to tell them about the change in plans.

“no!” you push, rather quickly, “please don’t let me be the reason you miss this.. i promise i’ll be fine,” pulling away from his grasp, rushing out of the building with absolutely no plan to get back.

eddie strides along behind, grabbing onto your arm, forcing you to stop and face him, “hey.. stop, i’ll get rob to drive you,” guiding you through the see of people and out into the fresh air at long, long last.

it’s like you can finally breathe again. the stifling heat of a hundred bodies wasn’t helping your anxieties, relief washing over your body the second the november breeze hits your flushed face.

he leans into the same car you arrived in, muttering something to who you assume is rob, motioning for you to come over. you oblige, standing at his side as he repeats what’s happening to you though none of the words compute.

“i won’t be long, okay? a couple hours max and then i’ll be back,” pulling you in for an unreciprocated hug.

he bundles you in to the back of the car, nodding to rob to start the journey.

you’re thankful the conversation is non-existent, leaning your forehead against the window, drawing lines into the condensation on the glass.

you want to go home.

and not eddie’s house.. home.

three days had been more than enough for you to decide this life wasn’t for you.

wiping spaghetti off of ella’s smiley face was. gossiping with steve about people you went to high school with was. los angeles certainly wasn’t.

-

eddie stumbles into the bedroom some hours later, obviously tipsy with a vague stench of booze and people clinging onto his clothes. the smell turns your stomach, peering over your shoulder to see him sliding his suit jacket off, trying to be quiet but failing miserably.

"whoops sorry.. did i wake you?" he asks, slightly slurring his words.

"no, i wasn't asleep," you shift, turning to face him, preparing to break the news.

he slides into the gargantuan bed, running a hand over his face as he comfies himself, "you all okay now?" extending his hand to rest on your waist, smoothing his fingers over the thick duvet.

you exhale, peering up at him through the dimly lit room, "i think i'm gonna go home tomorrow," you’d stewed on it all night and decided it was what’s best.

“what?” his hand stops, sitting up to see you better.

“i’m going back to hawkins tomorrow.”

“why?” he exclaims, unable to comprehend why tonight had gone from a great night to you rushing off home.

“because i miss ella,” you’d umm’d and ahh’d about telling him what had gone down in the bathroom, ultimately deciding not to. he’d only reiterate some bullshit about it not being true and you shouldn’t worry, it wasn’t worth the effort.

“it’s three more days babe.. wha- i don’t understand, where’s this come from?” he’s breathing heavily, focussing on sobering up you suppose.

you sigh again, hesitant to tell him that his friends were assholes and had made you feel like shit. “i just.. i guess i don’t fit in here,” shrugging it off, minimising the niggling thoughts of insecurity that had planted themselves into your brain.

“what are you talking about?” eddie frowns, genuinely perplexed. “did something happen? what are you not telling me about?”

you shake your head, struggling to find the right words, “there was just..” trailing off into the void, “someone said something to me and i’m-,” biting down into your bottom lip, decidedly letting it all out, “i don’t want this life eddie, i never asked for this.. for people to try and pick my life apart! that wasn’t part of the deal!” becoming increasingly frustrated with your boyfriend.

how could he not get it?

“woah.. who said something? i can fix that,” his eyebrows knit together, you’re not sure if he’s angry or just confused. “if you don’t tell me, i can’t do anything.”

“what are you gonna do?” nostrils flaring at his inability to just understand, “what’s said was said.. and i want to go home eddie, that’s the end of it,” running a hand through your hair, still stiff with hairspray and whatever other gunk the stylist had shoved into it.

“jesus christ,” he huffs, sick of the conversation, of trying to get you to stay. “fine. i’ll get someone to change your flight in the morning, can you wait that long?” his snarky voice making an appearance. you hadn’t missed that.

“thank you,” you whisper, unable to get any louder for fear of the lump in your throat.

instead you turn over, squeezing your eyes shut, refusing to let the tears brim over. eddie wouldn’t have understood even if you could tell him, ella wasn’t his kid, those words wouldn’t hurt the same. sure, he’d be pissed and he’d more than likely get her fired but what use was that now?

she’d still uttered the words. still forced her poison into your brain, she’d already got what she wanted.

-

eddie barely musters up two sentences to you in the morning, speaking in hushed tones to the muffled voice on the other side of the phone.

everything’s fucked and it’s your fault. he knows it too.

“flight’s in four hours.. rob’ll take you to the airport at twelve,” he huffs, hanging the phone back on the wall with enough force to make the plastic rattle.

“thank you,” you call after him, watching as he disappears down the long hall. he had just trampled on your already throbbing heart, stomping on the organ as if it didn’t matter.

-

when rob arrives, eddie’s in a more optimistic mood, wheeling your suitcase out of his room with a sullen expression, attempting to sway your mind one last time. “i can always cancel this flight..” opening the large door for you, “you can stay if you want to.”

“eddie..”

and with that, he knows it’s not going to work. blinking rapidly, a deep sigh coming from his chest, “right, got it.”

his hand slams the car door shut, still lingering on the metal as you sit inside. you felt like a petulant child, being sent away because you dared to disobey the rules. it’s all so stupid.

and deep down, eddie knows that ultimately, this is all his fault. he’s the one that skipped town eight years ago, left you without so much as a note to explain himself. as he watches the car roll down the drive, he lets himself wonder what life would’ve been like if he didn’t leave, if you’d even still be together or if this had to happen to bring you two back together. the universe was cruel like that.

-

the airport is bustling, families dithering around trying to find their flights and busy men dashing from one place to the other.

there’s only one thing you need and that’s the bathroom. shoving yourself and your things into a cramped cubicle to do what you needed to do.

and maybe you were being silly, perhaps the stress of last night had got to your head and now you were jumping to crazy conclusions.

but you’d been here before. known the signs, the little things that most people would probably just brush off. so you’d made rob pull into a gas station on your way to the airport and bought a two pack of the cheapest tests you could find.

five minutes feel like five hours. refusing to even peek at the shitty piece of plastic until the time was up.

your heart is thudding, blood pumping around your ears so loudly that you’re sure the lady in the stall next to you could hear it.

hands shaking as you turn the test, two thin blue lines reveal themselves on the tiny screen.

the test clatters to the floor, your mouth falling open as your eyes fog. it wasn’t like you didn’t know, you just didn’t know.

and now you do, everything feels fragile. someone’s cough rings in your ears, the sterile bathroom felt a thousand times smaller than it did five minutes ago.

eddie always said he didn’t want kids.

her voice echoes around your head, just as snarky as it were the first time you heard it. you feel sick. the acidic liquid rises quick, forcing you to spin and stick your head into the porcelain bowl.

emptying your stomach until your throat stings, retching and coughing, trying not to start sobbing.

eddie always said he didn’t want kids.

you can’t tell him, not yet anyway.

fuck.

a thousand thoughts flood your mind. were you even still together? he was on this press tour for weeks now. you can’t tell him over the phone. maybe you had broken up and you wouldn’t ever have to let him now. he would just have an illegitimate child in his hometown that he’d never know about.

nothing felt right. the high you’d been riding from the first two days with him had quite violently come crashing back to earth.

the only thing you want to do is tell steve.

he probably wouldn’t know what to do nor would he be very much help, you just needed to know that everything was going to be okay.

-

it’s the first thing you say as you slide into steve’s bmw, blurting out the news like it wasn’t potentially life changing.

as expected, his jaw drops, blabbering about babies at a hundred miles an hour. excited and amazed all at the same time.

“- i haven’t told him yet,” you manage to spit out in the middle of his nonsensical ranting.

“what?”

“i didn’t even know until i got to the airport,” you sniff, staring at the drops of rain on his windscreen rather than his eyes. “he’s on this press tour for weeks now.. i can’t tell him over the phone.”

“well shit,” steve’s shoulder slump, empathising with your less than ideal situation, “you have to,” he blinks, focusing on the road ahead.

“steve.. i don’t think you understand,” swallowing the air, unsure if the car was the best place to tell him about your little argument. “shit happened, it’s not.. it’s not that easy.”

he frowns, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as he drives, “well,” voice louder than expected, “we’ll think of something, trust me.”

your body relaxes for the first time in hours. if no one else had you, you know steve did.

-

there are paps fucking everywhere, littering the sidewalk as steve pulls into your drive, the bright lights already blinding you.

“what the fuck?” steve screeches, turning to face you in the driver's seat. They aren’t dumb, they know that if they step on your property, you are well within your rights to escort them off. so they hang back, inching towards the car but staying far enough away to not allow you to get them off.

“i don’t know.. i don’t know,” shaking your head, you were baffled how they had even found out you were home. you’d known they were scummy but christ, not this scummy.

“just get inside and I’ll bring your stuff in,” steve nods reassuringly, stepping out of the car ready to punch whoever got in his way.

you exhale, preparing for the onslaught of questions and pictures. the key poised in your hand to get you inside as quickly as humanly possible. word must have got out that your trip had ended abruptly, that or someone had seen you sulking around the airport like the sad sack you were.

your feet stumble along the asphalt, holding your hand to your face as to guard your eyes from the flashes. hundreds of questions echo in your ears, what happened between you and eddie munson? have you broken up? did he cheat again?

it’s god awful. gritty voices screaming across the lawn at you. steve has your suitcase rolling behind him, jaw clenched as he guides you to the door.

“you’re harassing a pregnant woman you fucking scumbags! go fuck yourselves!” he unleashes over his shoulder, flapping his arms about.

your mouth falls open, pulling him through the door and into your hall. the one thing you had not wanted him to let slip and he had just blurted it out to the crowd of hungry vultures.

it’d be the first thing on the front page tomorrow and yet you still hadn’t told eddie. at least now you didn’t have to.

he knows he wasn’t supposed to say it too, hand slapped across his mouth, inundated with shock and regret. “i’m so sorry, i’m so fucking sorry,” he rushes, eyes like saucers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, “i’m an idiot.. fuck! i’m sorry,” you cheek smushed against his chest.

the familiar feeling opens the floodgates, tears stream down your cheeks, wetting his t-shirt as your shoulders shake. wailing hysterically into his beating chest. he wasn’t quite expecting this, more so a few hours of the silent treatment.

“oh no.. i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to,” steve whispers into the air, his chin coming to rest atop of your head, squeezing your fragile frame in his arms.

“it’s not-,” rudely interrupted by a rogue hiccup, “shit.. it’s not you-,” hiccup, “oh my god,” you exclaim, tears turning into laughter at an unprecedented rate.

steve loosens his grip, confused as all hell at the mess you’d become against him. “jesus christ, are you okay?” holding your shoulders at arms length to examine the snotty, hiccupy mess in front of him.

“no,” you laugh, completely hysterical.

he guides you to the couch, making your movements for you, plonking down on the cushions in a flurry of emotion.

there you tell him everything. the party, the bitch with the sharp jawline in the bathroom and her nasty words, the aftermath and then all about your panic attack in a tiny lax bathroom.

it’s cathartic, knowing he won’t judge or diminish the way you feel. steve just listens, his hand rubbing small strokes on your knee every time you got to a juicy part.

how the hell were you ever going to tell eddie now?

-

there’s a knock at your door, mindlessly going to answer it without thinking much of the mad crowd of people that were out there just a few days ago. steve had gratefully been staying with you, helping with ella while also trying to hatch a plan to tell eddie without ruining everything.

it only occurs to you that it very well could be another nosy reporter as the door is already unlocked and slightly ajar.

you peep around the tiny crack, prepared to be bombarded with a bunch of questions and bright lights.

there’s none of that.

only the pitying image of one eddie munson stood on your doorstep with his shoulders slumped, black ray-ban’s hanging from his shirt and an inconceivable look upon his face.

“what the fuck?” he utters, barely audible. he looks exhausted, dark rings around his eyes with the body language to match. his hair in dark matter tangles hung around his face.

your mouth opens but the words fail to materialise, utterly speechless. there’s nothing you could possibly say now that would lessen the blow. and bless his soul, steve had fucked it.

no.

you had fucked it by running off back home without telling him the seemingly very important news.

“were you ever gonna tell me?” eyebrows screwed together, eyes glossy with what looked like tears.

“i.. i- yes, i was.. i didn’t.. i didn’t know,” pleading with him with your eyes, hoping they could tell him exactly what your words couldn’t. your lip trembles, as much as this had played on your mind since steve had let slip, the two of you still hadn’t come up with an acceptable explanation.

deep down you know really why you still hadn’t called him. you were scared, terrified even, that he’d laugh at you. tell you to fuck off, or get rid of it and to never contact him again. that wouldn’t surprise anyone, he was at the top of his career and definitely wouldn’t want to jack that in for his boring high school ex-girlfriend.

that’s what you’d told yourself anyway.

“when? when it was born?” his words are sharp, reaffirming every single fear you had conjured up in your brain.

you inhale sharply, the lump making it up and out of your throat before you had the chance to swallow it down. tears spill down your warm cheeks, the most ghastly cry coming from your mouth.

you must look utterly pathetic as eddie’s face softens almost immediately, springing from your doorstep and over the threshold to caress your cheek, mopping the tears with his thumb. “sorry.. i’m sorry fuck- i just wish you’d told me,” leaning forward to keep his eyes solidly on yours, any anger had dissipated from his face.

“i was scared, i’m sorry.. I didn’t know what to do,” burying your face into his shoulder, already wetting the shirt with your tears. shoulders shaking as you sob. “i swear.. i didn’t know until i got to the airport, i really- i just needed a few days..” howling into his steady shoulder.

he walks the both of you inside into your hallway, pushing the door shut before his other hand tangled into your hair, soothing out the wild strands. “i know.. it’s okay,” reassuring you even though you really didn’t deserve it.

“and that lady.. i don’t know, she got into my head,” sniffling, appreciating the familiarity of his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes he always seemed to have.

his body stiffens, pulling your body from the safety of his, “what lady? is this about the party? fuck sake man, no one would tell me anything,” he’s serious now, frustration overcoming his features once more, although this time they weren’t directed towards you.

you sigh, using your palm to wipe your stinging cheeks, “it doesn’t matter.. and it’s fine, you know? i get it.. why someone like you wouldn’t want kids. i’ve come to terms with it,” nodding through your lines, despite the fact that you couldn’t have believed them less.

“what? what the hell are you talking about?” flabbergasted that you’d even suggest that.

your face falls, once stoic and ready to face being a single mom again. “that lady.. she said..” shaking your head, “you didn’t want kids,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill over again.

“oh my god,” it clicks for him, and you wish it would for you too. “that’s.. fuck- i did say that but it was a long time ago now,” his fingers dig into your arms, ensuring that he really hammers his point home, “of course i do.. shit sweetheart, of course i do,” the flecks of caramel in his eyes shine through ten-fold when he’s staring at you, glossed over with the remnants of his tears.

your mouth opens, moving though nothing comes out, hopeless as the words fail to form.

“you’re an idiot,” eddie laughs lovingly, pulling you back towards him, encasing your face in his rough palms, the cold of his rings soothes your tear laden cheeks. “why didn’t you tell me? or just ask me?”

you giggle a bit, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know.. i didn’t think,” nothing made sense and yet, you felt better than you had in weeks.

eddie’s here, in front of you, happy, grinning from ear to ear as he remembers why he’s even stood in your dark corridor, “baby.. we’re having a baby,” squishing your cheeks between his hands.

his joy is palpable, brushing off on you despite your leaking eyes. he still looks at you like that, even though you’d scarped off, even after you had let the world know you were pregnant before him. it was like the stars shon in your eyes, as if the very key to living was buried somewhere within your soul and he just had to be the first to grasp it.

your heart is bursting, a weeks worth of sleepless nights and fretting over destroying your relationship had come to this. to holding each other in the dim light, both terrified for what was to come.

[wlntrsldler]

I keep imagining the first time Luke and Mr. D met after Luke's hickeys/scratches went viral

LMFAOOOOO ANON THIS IS SENDING ME

here is how i think that conversation played out (suggestive content ahead):

"shit, five star, your dad is calling me," luke mumbled, eyes wide as he looked down at his phone. "he never calls me."

connor snicked from his bunk in the tour bus, "well, given that the whole internet is talking about you right now after the show you gave them last night, i'm not surprised."

"ha!" travis exclaimed, sitting up on his bed. "put it on speaker. i wanna hear him yell at you."

you rolled your eyes, "he's not gonna yell at you."

luke turned to you with hopeful eyes, "you think so?"

"well, he's probably not gonna yell at you," you scrunched your face up, rethinking your words, "like 55% chance he won't yell at you."

"i don't like those odds, babe."

"answer the fucking phone, luke."

luke clicked the green button on his screen, chewing on the nail of his thumb. he rolled his eyes, pressing the speaker button as travis kept egging him on. chris and clarisse opened the privacy curtain of chris' bunk to listen in on the drama.

"hey, mr. d," luke cleared his throat, ignoring the quiet giggles from the boys when his voice cracked. "what's up?"

"is my daughter with you?"

"say no," you whispered. so you were wrong about the odds. your dad was 100% about to yell at luke and you selfishly didn't want to get your ass handed to you just yet. you were going to avoid your dad's calls for as long as possible.

"uhh... no?"

"oh jesus fucking christ," you sighed, smacking your palm against your forehead, "that was soooo convincing."

you heard your dad type on his laptop before shutting it. there was some background noise that subsided after you heard the shut of a door. it seemed like your dad went into his office to get some privacy.

"hey, kid," your dad said, no doubt addressing you now.

"hey, dad," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, leaning down to speak into the mic of luke's phone. "how are you?"

"don't start with me," he said, "would it kill you both to not do whatever it is you do that results in those pictures? pictures that are all over the internet by the way!"

a snide remark was on the tip of luke's tongue, because yes, it would kill him to not do the things that resulted in the pink marks on his neck and the healing scratches on his back, but that didn't seem like the right response.

"dad, you never had an issue with them taking their shirts off during shows before. and luke has gone out on stage like that before."

luke cringed, remembering one too many instances where he'd gone out on stage with hickeys all over his neck. it felt like a lifetime ago now, as if ever since you walked into his life that past version of him was someone he didn't recognize anymore. he much preferred remembering the name of the girl who left him marked up, especially preferring that it was only you who did that to him.

"that was before he started dating my daughter!" he replied, "i don't want to know anything about your relationship, but i'm in an unfortunate situation where i happen to manage the career of your boyfriend's band so i have to deal with it sometimes. so for the love of god, please please, stop."

"i'm so sorry mr. d," luke mumbled, "i completely forgot about them and by the time i realized, it was too late."

you could practically see your dad pulling at his hair, a habit he had when he was in stressful or awkward situations. he didn't speak for a good thirty seconds and then he sighed, "just keep your goddamn shirt on."

luke gulped, "got it."

when your dad ended the call, the entire bus erupted in laughter, including you. luke's face was as red as a tomato as he groaned and buried his head in his pillow. your shoulders shook as you giggled, laying on top of him. he instantly turned his body to wrap his arms around you.

"that wasn't so bad," you cooed, running your fingers through his curls, "and that was a shit apology, baby. you were smug as hell on stage when people pointed out the scratches."

"i wasn't thinking of the consequences of my actions," he said, "i was caught up watching people connect the dots that my girlfriend is not only hot but a fucking animal in be--"

"okay, that's our cue," travis cut off, closing his curtain. connor followed his head, popping in his airpods. clarisse sent you a wink before she disappeared behind the curtain with chris.

"i'll stop leaving hickeys on you," you kissed his face, enjoying how flustered he got. "but i can't promise too much on the scratches."

"i'm gonna stop taking my shirt off at shows, i think," he mused, toying with the hem of the shirt you wore. "i don't think i can take another surprise call from your dad. i think it took years off my life."

"your fans will be highly disappointed," you teased, leaning over to his ear, "but if you're gonna keep your shirt on, does that mean hickeys on your abs is fair game?"

luke licked his lips, tugging on his own curtain to give you two some privacy, "absolutely."

[upsidedownwithsteve]

ma'am I desperately need Steve to crush me with his height and have me whimper while he calls me his good girl and then his slut within a span of 5 minutes please

18+

Steve was gone, lost in you.

You could tell by the way he let his weight fall onto you, chest to chest with his arms tucked under your back, one hand holding your ass up so he could fuck into you a little deeper.

He was barely moving, bodies slick and sticking together, a dirty grind more than anything else but the thatch of hair above Steve’s cock was coarse against your clit and he was making sounds like he was about to fall apart.

Maybe he was. Maybe he’d take you with him.

Steve was fucked out.

You could tell by the way he was moaning into the crook of your neck, fingers squeezing at your ass, palming at you until he spread you apart, slick slipping over your skin, under his fingertips, making his cock twitch. You could tell by the cadence of his voice, that low, rough rasp that made your breath hitch. All the awful, pretty dirty things he said, obscene grunts and groans as he murmured words into your skin.

“My pretty girl, shit,” he’d coo, pressed down onto you, tits against his chest, head thrown back so he could suck a lilac mark onto your throat. “Such a good girl for me, honey, aren’t you? Takin’ my cock like a fucking champ, baby, Jesus Christ.”

Then he’d get closer to coming, spreading your legs wider for him, eyes glazed over as he reared back enough to watch the way your cunt hot wetter still, slick and shiny around the stretch of his cock. Steve would fuck you faster then, harder, cock kicking up inside of you when you whined for more.

“Fuck, honey,” he’d hiss, jaw slack, cheeks flushed. “Want more? Yeah? Such a slut for it, huh? Pretty little thing, grippin’ this cock like you’re made for it.”

He’d get rougher, eyes always soft, gaze always meeting yours as he fucked you harder, swallowing your moans with kisses that were more tongue and teeth. Steve would ask you to open your mouth for him, sighing all soft when you did as you were told and let him slip two fingers past your lips, eyes rolling back when you sucked all sweet.

Yeah. Steve was gone.

[holymusicalmothman]

I Wanna Be Yours

Spencer A x Ian’sSister!Reader

Smosh Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+! Smutttttt. Uuuuhhhhh female and male, oral (female receiving), swearing, heard y’all like being called pretty girl, also I just listened to sooo much arctic monkeys

Feedback appreciated! It’s really kept me going lol. Like seriously tho.

*******

His lips trailed from your mouth down along to your jaw, each kiss its own soft form of devotion. Your hands tightened in his hair as he kissed your neck, a soft gasp leaving your lips.

He froze. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm…” You nodded, gently tugging at his hair, silently urging him to continue.

While makeout sessions and roaming hands weren’t anything new, it had never gone farther than that. Which was fine. Your boyfriend had made it more than clear that he was willing to go at whatever pace you set. Which had been more than fine with you.

“We can stop if it’s too much.” He muttered against your skin.

“No.” You said firmly, but quietly, not wanting to break the energy of the bubble that seemed to surround the two of you. “Don’t stop.”

He continued his gentle barrage of kisses across your skin, his touch setting you aflame. The fingertips digging into your hip tensed briefly, the air suddenly had a light charge to it. Almost hesitantly, Spencer’s hands slipped under your shirt, warm palms against the skin of your back.

All you could feel was the warmth. The summer sun filtering through the cracks between the curtains. Soft lips dancing their way down your neck. The air of the room, despite the AC and the fan. Warm hands wandering lightly over your back, your sides, your ribs. Hot breaths against your skin as he asked so very sweetly if he could take your shirt off.

“Can I take this off, pretty girl?” Gentle tugs at the hem of your shirt had you nodding, leaning back lightly so he could lift the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in your room to be worried about later.

Your skin cooled slightly as the air hit you, a brief moment of clarity passing with it.

Spencer was looking at you. Deep blue eyes filled watching you with rapture. This hadn’t been in either of your plans for the day, but you had the house to yourself as Ian was out of town for the weekend. And, as you sat straddled across your boyfriend’s lap, you couldn’t care less about your previous plans. Whatever they were.

That brief moment of clarity passed as soon as his lips found yours again, the flame in your gut returning.

A soft noise left you as he moved his jaw forward, hands brushing lightly over your bra. You could almost feel his thoughts stumbling over each other as he registered your sound, a quick breath exiting his nose before he seemed to surge into you.

Suddenly you were on your back, Spencer hovering over you, one of your knees trapped between both of his as legs tangled together, noses side by side, lips a hairs width apart.

“This okay?”

You could only nod. Everything seemed so charged but so perfect.

Your arms wrapped around him, nails scratching lightly against him as you attempted to pull him even closer. As you traced slow circles on his back with your nails, you were rewarded with an almost inaudible moan and raised gooseflesh spread its strange texture across the tattoos on his arm. You were suddenly aware of how much he enjoyed it pressing against your leg.

“Fuck, babe,” he dropped his forehead to your collarbone, tensing. “I don’t think I can stop if we keep going. I mean, I will, of course. It’s just…Jesus Christ.”

You found your voice, the almost whispered words leaving you as you suddenly found yourself breathless.

“And if I say I don’t want you to stop?”

For a moment no one said anything, both of you pressed into each other, the only sound being the AC switching off, leaving silence.

He pulled back, leaning on his hands above you, pupils blown wide. “Are you sure?”

Ever the gentleman, your boyfriend.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

But, as before, as soon as Spencer’s lips met yours, the air became stifling. Everything was too hot and not enough. You tugged impatiently on his own shirt, pulling a raspy laugh from him, his light stubble scratching against your skin.

He moved to sit up, pulling off his tshirt and sending it in the direction yours had vanished in, returning right back to your lips like a man starved.

Your hands greedily raced against the newly revealed skin, eager in their plans on memorizing all of him.

In response, warm thumbs rubbed gently into the skin just below your bra and before you had even thought your movement out, you had wriggled out of the item.

Those warm hands were on you in a heartbeat. A breathy ‘holy fucking shit’ coming from Spencer as he kissed his way from your lips down to your chest, open mouthed kisses and gentle nips of your skin behind felt along the way.

You weren’t quite sure at what point the both of you had lost the rest of your clothes, the specifics lost in a haze of mumbled words, kisses, and heat when you realized he had manuevered his way between your legs. His hot breath was on your thigh, eyes silently begging for permission. You nodded, bottom lip between your teeth.

It was your turn to let out several expletives as you tossed your head back. You could feel dark blue almost black eyes on you as he learned you from the inside out, obscene noises lightly heard beneath the almost whines that left you.

The string you were barely hanging onto snapped and you could’ve sworn you came so hard you blacked out. You felt a smile pressed into your neck as your bedroom slowly came back into view.

“That good, yeah?” The dark haired man couldn’t help the prideful tone that snuck into his voice. “Think you can do that for me one more time?”

You nodded, eager for more. “Please.”

“You’re absolutely sure? What about–”

“Yes, I’m sure, Spence.” You cut him off. “Plus I’ve been on birth control since I turned 19. Please, please, just–”

His hips ground involuntarily into your own at your begging, and the breath left your lungs.

Pushing into you slowly had him panting against your neck, more whines escaping you. The slight burn faded after a moment, and you pushed into him with your hips, a ragged moan greeting you in response.

He pulled himself from you, only to sink back in, finding a gentle rhythm. The two of you crashed together like waves kissing the shoreline. The slow, almost languid energy that had been around the two of you since the exchange started began to morph as soft sighs grew sharper and heavy breaths grew deeper. Your nails dug into his back, small crescent moons being left indented in his skin as his hips moved quicker.

The string was back. Right in the pit of your stomach, stretching further and further until it was about to snap again. You could hear the sound of your own voice begging ‘more’ and ‘please’ but it sounded almost far away as you clung to Spencer like a lifeline.

“Fuck, babe, I’m close. Where?” His voice sounded wrecked, deep and raspy.

“‘Nside.”

“Holy shit.”

The string snapped with the force of a tsunami, crashing over you and leaving white spots in your eyes. Spencer let out a loud groan and stilled above you, the bridge of his nose fitting perfectly into the side of your neck as he caught his breath.

Your eyelids fluttered in exhaustion, your body spent.

“Gimme just a second, pretty girl.”

You could barely feel him leaving your body as he slipped away only to return a moment later with a damp towel from your small en suite bathroom. After ensuring that you had been properly cleaned off and threw the towel in the laundry, he stopped to stare at you.

You knew your hair was everywhere and you probably looked a mess, but you got the feeling that with the way he stared at you, those thoughts hadn’t even crossed his mind.

You patted the spot next to you and he crawled back into the bed beside you, gently manuevering so your head rested on his chest and he could wrap his arms around you.

“Gonna sleep, baby?”

You nodded, his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of tranquility. “Only f’r a little bit.”

“Mhm, want me to stay?”

You nodded again. “Sleep.”

“Alright, pretty girl. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Spence.”

This was my first time writing smut. How’d I do?

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall. 

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up. 

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-" 

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?" 

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock." 

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs." 

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants." 

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?" 

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all." 

*

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager. 

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously." 

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-" 

Dustin starts squealing. 

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat. 

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?" 

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve." 

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile. 

"Baker boy, hi!" 

Steve's mouth goes dry. 

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone. 

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves. 

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner? 

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?" 

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk. 

"Told you I was the best." 

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-" 

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?" 

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-" 

"We'd love to stay!" 

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy. 

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?" 

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate. 

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite." 

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!" 

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-" 

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor." 

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first." 

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though." 

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail. 

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.7

Chapter Summary: Joel needs to know where you were taken, so he goes to the only people who would have the answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, graphic depictions of violence, torture, blood

WC: 5.3K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Joel!" Ellie yelled, shaking his shoulder, pulling him out of a deep sleep.

"What?" he asked, irritated as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked around, realizing the sun was up and you never woke him.

"Goddamnit," he muttered, standing and grabbing his gear. "Why didn't she wake me?"

"She's gone!" Ellie said, sounding a little breathless.

Joel felt his legs go weak and the blood rush to his head as Ellie's words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What?"

"She's gone," Ellie repeated. "Her shit's still here, though, so it's not like she left us. But I can't find her anywhere."

"W-where - what d'you mean she's... oh, shit," Joel stammered. He fell back onto the bed as his vision went narrow and his chest tightened under his palm. He felt like he could barely drag in a breath, fighting like hell to keep from passing out. He let his head hang between his knees as he struggled to breathe while the pain in his chest intensified.

"Joel?" Ellie said, her voice sounding miles away even though she was kneeling down right next to him. "Joel! What's going on?!"

"It's fine," he gasped, shaking his head, trying to clear the fog in his brain, but it was no use.

"You're not fucking fine! Are you having a heart attack? What do I do?!"

"I'm not-" Joel cut himself off and took in a ragged breath. "I'm not havin' a heart attack."

Jesus Christ, how could he let this happen?

"I'll get you some water," Ellie said, standing up to dig through his pack for his canteen. She held it out to him and he took it weakly, his hand shaking as he brought it to his lips.

"You sure she isn't patrolin' the building?" His voice was raspy as his vision began to widen again. Please, just walk through the door.

"Pretty sure. Her gun was on the ground downstairs," Ellie said, turning around to pick up the pistol from her bed to show him. He felt himself begin to spiral again and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to be focused. He needed to get you back. He needed you to be safe.

"Put that down," he told her, rubbing his eyes.

"It's just the two of us, what if the people who took her come back?" Ellie protested, and Joel dropped his hand to glare at her.

"How d'you know she was taken?" he demanded, even though he already came to the same conclusion himself, he just wasn't ready to admit it.

"What else could it have been?" she shrugged. "Her gun's here, her pack's here, the truck is still here. And she's nowhere to be found. She wouldn't just leave us, right?"

Joel stared at Ellie for a moment, his brows furrowed as he tried to decide how much he should share with a teenager.

He just grunted in response, sitting back and taking a deep breath in while rubbing his chest, doing his best to hide the intense fear that was coursing through his veins. "I'll look around, see if there's any tracks or somethin' that might lead us in the right direction." He stood on shaky legs to scoop up his rifle.

"I'll come with you, watch your back," she said, leaning down to grab her pack.

"No you won't, you'll stay right here," Joel scolded as he headed to the door, still feeling a little lightheaded but the panic attack was subsiding.

Ellie rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack in a huff, watching as Joel made his way down the stairs towards the front door of the fire hall.

Once Joel was safely out of sight, behind a few trees where he knew Ellie couldn't see him, he fell forward and allowed himself to just be weak. First, by gripping his knees and breathing deeply, then by falling to the ground on his hands and knees, letting his head rest against the dirt as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill down his face.

How could he fuck this up so badly? How could he let this happen? He was supposed to protect you, and the first chance someone got, they took you. No wonder you didn't want to marry him or start a family. How could he possibly keep you or anybody else safe? He just failed time and time again.

Someone must have followed them and he didn't notice. He was too tired and old to recognize when he was being tailed. And it might have cost you your life.

In his craze, he had half a mind to just leave Ellie. His first instinct was to take off, knowing she would just slow him down. But you had a soft spot for the kid, and you so desperately wanted to help her. It was clear as day that you cared for her. He couldn't abandon Ellie after you risked it all to find her family. He wouldn't do that to you. Especially if it was your last wish.

"Stop thinkin' like that," he muttered to himself. With a groan, he pushed off the ground and made himself stand up. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could do this. He just had to focus. He could find you. He would find you, if it was the last thing he ever did.

He opened his eyes and looked around. What could he see? What could lead him to you? He walked the perimeter of the building, looking for any sign - a scrap of clothing, a drop of blood, anything that would draw him in the right direction, but there was nothing.

Next, he examined the truck. Why wouldn't they take the truck? He looked at the ground, hoping to find some tire tracks, but the dry fucking desert left nothing for him to trace. They must have had their own vehicle.

Frustrated, he stormed back inside, his fingers raking through his hair as he stomped up the steps.

"Find anything?" Ellie asked, jumping up from the bed. He could tell she was worried, and if he was in a better frame of mind, he might have cared. But all he could think about was you, and what was happening to you at that very moment while he wasted all this time.

"No," he said, his voice gruff as he paced the room and tried to plot his next move. Ellie watched him for a few minutes, not wanting to anger him further but trying to find the right balance and help.

"Who could've taken her? And why not all of us? Why just her?" Ellie wondered out loud.

Joel paused, her words unlocking something.

"Your uncle," Joel started, turning on her. "He told me somethin' when we were there. Said there's slavers that'll pay good money for her. Tried to convince me to -" Joel fell back on the mattress behind him, his head spinning.

"Wait, what?" Ellie asked, standing up now. "How would he know that?"

"Uh," Joel stammered, his mind going a mile a minute. He probably shouldn't have said that to her, he was just thinking out loud. If you were here, you would have known what to do.

"Did he sell me?!" Ellie's face was ghostly white as she connected the dots.

"I don't know," Joel told her, trying to focus on the main issue. He couldn't deal with this right now, he had to find you.

"He did, didn't he?" Ellie continued, tears welling up in her eyes. "That's how they got past his cameras. That's why I don't remember."

Joel sighed and looked up at her. He didn't have much of a choice.

"Yeah, probably," he finally admitted. "It's why we wanted to get you outta there. Somethin' felt off."

"Motherfuckers," Ellie muttered, and Joel raised his eyebrows.

"We gotta go back," Joel told her, standing up quickly. "Get your stuff. That asshole knows who did this."

Ellie helped direct him back to her uncle's house once a few hours passed and he got closer to the city. He stopped the truck a mile away from the house, parking in an abandoned lot, hiding among other cars, just in case.

"We'll wait til sundown," Joel said as he turned off the engine. It was only a couple hours, but each passing minute he spent not tracking you down made his stomach twist tighter and tighter.

"Then what?"

"Then, I sneak back in there, take 'em by surprise and get the information outta him," Joel replied, staring out the window, looking for any movement.

"How are you gonna get by the cameras?" Ellie asked him. He shrugged.

"Don't know. Guess I try to time it before be sets up the motion alerts. It's a gamble but it's all I got."

"You should go after dinner," she said. He turned to finally look at her, waiting for her to explain. "They like to drink after dinner."

He nodded, dropping his gaze and watching as her hands nervously fidgeted in her lap.

"I know this is your family and all-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Do what you gotta do. They aren't my family anymore," she said, blinking away the tears and looking out her window.

"Right," he said. "Reckon they aren't."

They sat a few minutes in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry all this happened," he said quietly. "Ain't none of it your fault."

Ellie turned to him and tried to keep the surprise from her face.

"Thanks," was all she said, and he gave her a firm nod before reaching behind him to grab his rifle. He checked it was fully loaded before moving on to his revolver, doing the same checks. Once he was satisfied, he rummaged around in his pack for his hunter's knife, then looped it through his belt so it sat on his back hip. Ellie watched him carefully before taking a deep breath and asking him the question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.

"What are you gonna do to them?"

He paused, then straightened up and cleared his throat.

"Whatever I have to," he said lowly, and Ellie felt a shiver travel down her spine. She didn't ask any more questions after that.

As the sun began to set, Joel took a deep breath and double checked his gear before turning to Ellie.

"Alright. I'm gonna leave the keys with you, just in case..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Ellie's brow furrowed.

"No way, dude. I'm coming with you."

"No, you ain't," he told her. "I can't be lookin' out for a kid while I'm in there."

"You won't have to look out for me, I'll have your back!" Ellie protested angrily.

"What the hell d'you think you're gonna do?" he replied, wondering why he was wasting time arguing with a teenager.

"I don't know! But it's better than sitting in this stupid car waiting for you to get back. It's not very safe, you know. Leaving a kid all alone out here," she told him, trying everything she could think of to change his mind. He clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. He didn't have time for this, he just needed to get the information and get the hell out of here.

"Fine. But you better stick by me, and listen to what I tell you," he seethed, then pushed the door open and hopped out, adjusting his pack over his shoulders as he headed in the direction of the house.

Joel couldn't believe he was having the same argument with Ellie that he has with you. Fuck, he hoped you were okay. If Ellie made it out alive with the same people, you should be able to, right? He couldn't ignore the pit in his stomach when he regrettably let his mind wander to what they would want from you. As far as he knew, Ellie was just used for manual labor. But history as proven there's something else men in particular want from you.

Once they got within earshot of the house, Joel held his arm out silently to stop Ellie. He turned his head to her and pressed a finger up against his lips, telling her to be quiet. She nodded, her breath quickening as her nerves began to set in, then followed close on Joel's tail as they made their way up to the house. He ducked under the window and flattened himself up against the siding, his eyes darting up to look at the cameras angled on the corners of the roof before slowly rising and peering over the windowsill.

The curtains were closed, but he was able to see in just a crack. The living room lights were on but he didn't see any movement inside. Just when he was about to give up and try a different angle, he heard June's muffled voice. He froze, watching as she waddled into the living room from the kitchen with a glass in her hand, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. She didn't appear to be alarmed, so Joel took that to mean they managed to sneak by the cameras undetected.

He reached to his side and wrapped his fingers around the grip of his revolver, slowly pulling it out of his holster and holding it up in front of him. He continued to watch as Dave ambled into the living room, holding a short glass with brown liquid in it. He set the glass down and bent over to tend to the fire.

Joel ducked back down and quickly made his way around the house to the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen. Ellie followed hot on his heels, her switchblade clutched tightly in her fist. He peered around the corner, making sure nobody came back into the kitchen before he tugged on the door. Locked. He put his revolver back in the holster and took out his knife, working over the lock with ease and slowly sliding the glass door open. Once Ellie was inside, he switched his knife for his gun. He flattened his hand and pushed it down, silently telling her to stay right here. She nodded, squatting down behind one of the kitchen chairs so she was out of sight.

He flattened himself against the wall next to the doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room, listening to June and Dave talk about the meal they had just eaten, like they hadn't just sold a human being into slavery yet again. Based on the volume of her voice, he realized that June was heading back into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and widened his stance, the gun in his palm gripped tight as he waited for his moment.

"Did you want any cookies?" June asked over her shoulder. "Just made 'em today, they're-"

She let out a strangled cry as Joel hooked his arm tightly around her throat, spinning her around and pulling her back flush against his chest, his revolver pressing into her temple.

"Junebug?" Dave called, setting down his glass and pushing himself up from the sofa. Joel pushed her forward, the both of them stepping out into the living room, Joel using her body as a shield. Dave froze and Joel watched as all the blood drained from his face.

"What, weren't expectin' me?" Joel growled, and June whimpered against him.

"Wha-" Dave started, then swallowed audibly before trying again. "What'dya want?"

"I want you to tell me who the fuck you called, and where their camp is," Joel said through clenched teeth.

"I didn't call no one," Dave said, his eyes flitting around the room, trying to locate a weapon.

"Don't even think 'bout it," Joel warned, and Dave chuckled.

"C'mon, you ain't gonna hurt a woman," he said. Before Dave could blink, Joel pointed his revolver down to the ground and shot June right through the foot. She howled, her body instinctively bending forward to grab her wound, but Joel tugged her back.

"Better start talkin', or I won't be so nice next time."

"Okay, okay! Jesus!" Dave yelled, holding his hands up in the air and waving them, trying to calm Joel down. "Let her go, then I'll talk."

"Don't think so," Joel said.

"Listen, tie us up or somethin', just let her go," Dave pleaded.

"Funny hearin' you beg for your woman's life when you just sold mine to the highest bidder. Why should I be so generous?"

Dave was beginning to panic, his breaths were coming fast and his hands were shaking.

"You're right, I'm sorry, you're right. Just- please. Please. I'll tell ya whatever you wanna hear, just let her go."

Joel didn't have time for this. He didn't want to waste another minute arguing with this asshole when he could be heading to wherever you were. So, he agreed.

"Fine. I'll let her go, but I'm tyin' you both up," he said, turning back towards the kitchen and dragging June with him. He opened up a few drawers, leaving them rummaged through and open until he found a junk drawer with a pack of zip ties. He snatched them up and pushed June back into the living room. Tossing the pack on the floor, he nodded at Dave.

"Go ahead. Tie yourself up, then I'll do her," Joel said.

"Now, wait a minute. I ain't gonna tie myself first and have you go back on your word."

"Of the fucking two of us, I ain't the one who's lied, and you ain't the one to be makin' any goddamn demands!" Joel roared, his chest heaving. Dave cowered, raising his hands higher above his head and nodded.

"Alright, alright," he said shakily, then slowly leaned forward to pick up the zip ties. He opened the pack and was about to wrap up his wrists, but Joel stopped him.

"Ankles, too," he said. Dave looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it.

After tying his ankles and his hands at his waist, he limply tossed the pack of ties across the floor towards Joel.

"Sit down," he told June through gritted teeth, pushing her down into the armchair. She plopped down into the chair with a whimper, then quickly leaned down to clutch her foot.

Joel let his guard down for a minute. Just one minute to pick up the zip ties and it was all June needed. She brought her good leg down on the back of his head, knocking him down to the ground and sending his gun skittering across the room. His head bounced off the floor, making him see stars for a moment before he scrambled to try to stand back up, but she brought her leg down across his back with enough force to knock him down again.

"You son of a bitch!" she screeched at him. She tried to stand and grab his gun, but she stumbled, the bullet wound in her foot making her unable to walk.

"Get the gun, Junebug!" Dave yelled from his spot on the sofa. "Get the gun and shoot him in the goddamn head!"

Joel rolled onto his back to create distance from her so he could finally stand up. When he did, he realized the room had gone deathly silent. He swiveled his head around, trying to figure out why they stopped screaming, and then he saw Ellie. She was standing in the doorway with his rifle trained on June's head, her eyes hard and her hands still.

"Ellie," June whispered. She inched forward on the ground towards her, but Ellie just cocked the rifle. June froze.

"Ellie, you shoot that fucker right between the eyes," Dave ordered from the couch. When it became apparent that Ellie was not on their side, Joel bent down to pick up his revolver with a grunt. Dave nervously glanced back and forth between her and Joel.

"Ellie-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Did you sell me to them, too?" Her voice was unwavering, her gaze like daggers.

"'Course not," June said, interrupting them.

"Really? Then how'd he know who to call? How'd they get past your cameras?"

"How did you get past 'em?" June shrieked. "It ain't impossible!"

"June, just give it up," Dave said from behind her, his shoulders sagging.

The room was silent. Joel looked over at Ellie, then back at Dave.

"Gimme the gun, kiddo," Joel said gently, taking a step toward her with his hand out.

"I wanna hear him say it," she said, her grip tightening on the stock.

"Fine, we sold ya, that what you wanna hear? Paid for half the shit in that basement, too, and look at you - you're fuckin' fine!" Dave shouted, spit spraying from his lips. Ellie's brows furrowed and her eyes lit up in rage.

"What? You gonna kill me?" Dave asked with a laugh.

"She won't," Joel said, stepping in front of the rifle, blocking Ellie's shot. "But I will."

Dave's smile faltered as he looked up at Joel.

"Ellie?" Joel said over his shoulder, his eyes still glued to Dave.

"Yeah?"

"You got headphones?"

"Yeah."

"Go upstairs, put 'em on," Joel said, holding his arm out to his side. She paused for a moment before dropping the gun from her shoulder and handing him the rifle, then turned to head up the stairs.

"Wait! Ellie!" June sobbed, tears streaming down her face. But Ellie kept walking. "I'm sorry!" June added, hoping she would garner some sympathy.

"No, you ain't," Joel muttered, leaning the gun against the wall before turning back to her. "But you're gonna be."

An hour. He wasted a whole fucking hour with these assholes, playing their stupid games and listening to their pathetic pleas until his eye caught the time on the wall and his anger flared. He needed to get on the road. He needed to find you. He wouldn't be able to sleep or eat until he did.

He had them both tied up, sitting on the floor with their backs to each other. Dave was partially right. Joel didn't like the idea of hurting a woman. So he went relatively easy on her. However, after that hour was up, she was still bruised and bloodied, but it was nothing compared to Dave.

Dave was barely holding on to consciousness and unfortunately was trying to feed Joel false information on where you were taken. He caught him in a lie twice already, and his anger got the best of him both times. With a sigh, he stood up and flexed his bloodied hand.

"You still with me?" Joel asked, leaning over Dave's body. He heard a grunt in response.

"Can't do much more to you, you'll pass out. So I'm sorry to have to do it," Joel walked around in a circle slowly, stopping when he found himself in front of June. "But I'll have to start takin' her fingers."

June began sobbing again and behind her, Dave groaned. Joel took the bloodied knife he had set on the coffee table and held out his arm.

"Gimme your hand," he told June calmly, and her sobbing turned into hysterics, her tied hands pressed firmly into her lap.

"Gimme your fuckin' hand, or tell me where they took her!" he roared, making her jump.

"I'll tell you!" she said, tears and snot streaming down her face. Joel felt a bit of relief, then leaned back to grab the map from his back pocket.

"Point to it. And it better be the same spot he points to," he said darkly. She nodded and lifted her hands shakily after squinting at the map.

"There," she said. He peered down, noting she pointed to a hospital in Salt Lake City, and his blood ran cold. He wasn't certain, but it appeared to be the same hospital he and Tommy were supposed to take Ellie. He stood up and walked back around to Dave, who was glaring up at him through one eye, the other was swollen shut.

"They'll kill us," Dave said weakly when Joel held out the map.

"Shoulda thought 'bout that before doin' business with a bunch of slavers," Joel told him bitterly.

"I ain't tellin' you shit," Dave said, squaring his shoulders. June began whimpering behind him.

"That's okay," Joel said, dropping the map on the coffee table. "I believe her."

He rammed the hunting knife through Dave's chest with a grunt. The man let out a small squeal before his head fell forward limply. June screamed and tried to scoot away on the floor, but Joel grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back.

"Shut up, or you're next," he snarled, and her screams immediately stopped.

"It's no use," she sobbed, leaning forward and gasping for air. "You won't get her back. It's been too long, they move 'em around so fast-"

Joel had enough. He took the butt of his rifle and hit her in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

She may think he wouldn't get you back, but she had no idea what he's capable of.

The drive back north was quiet. Ellie saw the blood on Joel's hands and clothes. Even though he did his best to clean up before bringing her downstairs, she still pieced it together. He had hid Dave's body in the basement with the camera equipment, then dragged June down there, still unconscious, and tied her loosely to a workbench. She could eventually figure out how to get out of the restraints. It was just to ensure he had enough time to put distance between them. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to kill her. But at the last minute, he did decide to grab one of those AK-47s Dave was bragging about two days ago.

Ellie didn't ask questions. She stared silently out the window, lost in thought about her own flesh and blood betraying her. Then she glanced at Joel, realizing this man who couldn't stand the sight of her just a week ago did more for her than her own family.

"Thank you," she finally said, breaking the silence. He blinked and turned his head briefly to look at her.

"You're welcome," he said gruffly. "You didn't, uh, see or hear anythin', did'ya?"

"No," she said, and Joel sighed with relief.

"Good."

He picked up the speed when he reached a part of the interstate that was flat, determined to reach you as soon as possible.

"They told me they took her to a hospital in Salt Lake City," he said after a while, and she looked up from her sketch pad as she listened. "I think it might be the same spot the Fireflies wanted us to take you."

"Oh," she said, sitting back in her seat, deep in thought. "I wonder why they wanted her there."

"What'dya mean?"

Ellie paused, remembering Joel still didn't know the real reason Marlene asked him to take her. She decided to be somewhat honest with him, considering all he had done for her, it was the least she could do.

"It's a research facility," she said.

"Research? For what?"

"I overheard some stuff once. They're trying to find a cure," she said. "For the virus."

"A cure?" Joel repeated, furrowing his brow. "The hell they need her for?"

Ellie chewed her lip nervously before answering.

"Test subjects," she finally said, her face falling. Joel swallowed thickly as the implication behind her words set in.

"Ellie," he said slowly, gripping the wheel tightly. "Do you know that for a fact?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I had a friend. She was taken there, she never came back. I found out later what happened," she sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"And that's why they wanted us to take you there? To test a cure on you?"

"Yeah," Ellie lied, shifting her gaze out the window, immediately feeling guilty. She wasn't lying about the test subjects, but she didn't feel comfortable yet telling him it was her blood they wanted to test next.

Joel drove through the night, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers numb, but he made it in about 8 hours. It was still dark out as he found a secluded spot a couple blocks away and parked the truck. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, wondering how the hell he was going to do this. Ellie stirred in the seat next to him, yawning and stretching before looking around.

"Are we here?"

"Yeah. Hospital's that tall building over there," he said, pointing to the side. She looked through the window and nodded before looking back at Joel.

"You should get some rest," she told him, but he shook his head.

"Can't."

"Yeah, you can. How do you think you're gonna do this when you've been up for, what, a day and a half?"

"I don't got a choice, they could be doin' shit to her right now," he argued, then leaned over the seat to grab the hunting rifle.

"They've only had her for a day, she's fine. Most they did at this point was inject her with an experimental vaccine. They don't test it for a few days," she explained, sitting back in her seat. Joel frowned.

"How do you know all this?"

Ellie shrugged and nervously chewed on her nail.

"Just do."

Joel just stared at her. He was beginning to realize she was hiding something from him, but he couldn't worry about it yet. He didn't think Ellie would have any reason to lie to him, so he considered his options: take her word for it and get some rest so he could be as strong as possible to take all those fuckers down, or go in blind and weak right now and hope for the best.

"And when you say they 'test it', d'you mean..."

"They keep infected in there," she said with a nod. "Best way to test it is to get bit and watch."

"Fuck," Joel whispered, shakily running his hand over his mouth as he stared out the windshield. "You're gonna tell me how you know all this shit after we get her back, you hear me?" His tone was firm and his jaw was set as he shot her a glare. She nodded.

"Alright," he said after a moment, breathing in deeply. "Here's the plan. You keep watch, I try to get some rest for a couple hours. Then we move. Before I just storm in there, I gotta see what we're dealin' with. Think you can handle that?" He finally turned to Ellie and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

"Yeah," she said, sitting up in her seat. "I can handle it."

Reluctantly, Joel handed her the rifle. She eagerly took it from his grip.

"For the scope. So you can see anythin' comin' our way when I'm out," he explained, then eyed up the way she was holding the gun. "You ever use one of these things?"

"No, can't be that hard, can it? Just point and shoot," she said with a shrug as she examined the firearm. Joel sighed before leaning over and giving her a quick tutorial.

"Just don't fuckin' shoot me when I'm sleepin'," he told her, then tipped the seat back and bunched his coat up around his neck, closing his eyes. She grinned then took her post, scanning the perimeter every few minutes for any movement while Joel snored softly in the driver's seat.

Ellie weighed her options. Should she tell him the truth? Should she tell him she's immune? Would it even matter? She decided against it for now. It wouldn't change the plan. Maybe one day she would tell him. Once they got you back and the three of you were safely back in Jackson. For now, she had to stay focused and help rescue you. She wouldn't let the Fireflies take another one of her friends.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8 @sarahhxx03 @oscarissac2099 @motherjoel @silas-222 @b3l1nd5 @rocket-raccoon-silvie

[hihomeghere]

66 kieran duffy? not enough great writers for this poor boah </3

Word count : 750

Warnings/tags : Cursing, handjob, talk of naked woman’s body.

Prompt : Were you touching yourself?

He hadn’t meant to catch you in such a compromising situation, honest he hadn’t. He just needed to get away from everything. The assholes round camp, always giving him shit no matter how many times he proved himself. No matter how many times he said he wasn’t a damn O’Driscoll. But the fish didn’t care who he had been, or who he was now. He had walked a decent ways away from camp, alongside flat iron lake.

He scanned the water, looking for ripples in the water. Then his eyes landed on your naked body. Dropping his pole at his feet with a dull clank on the dirt. He froze, terrified you had heard him. You didn’t seem to hear him at all, your hands running down the valley of your breasts. It was such an innocent task, simply washing the sweat and grime from the day off of your body. Like a mythical creature, an angel or some sort of nymph. The sun shining off the water onto your body, creating beautiful rays along your bare hips and stomach. His dick twitched in his pants as your lips fell open in a soft sigh.

Suddenly his brain connected with the rest of his body, his feet leading him backwards into the tree line. His back hit the harsh bark of the tree, hidden underneath the canopy of the forest.

His cock pressed painfully against his jeans, his balls felt full and heavy. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, sneaking a glance around the area. It seemed to only be the two of you near the lake, at least this far away from camp and the road.

He cursed himself, fighting whether or not to get some much needed relief.

If any of the men from camp found him like this, Jesus they’d do worse than geld him. He knew how protective everyone was of you, if anything they’d just be happy to put him through pain.

His eyes fell upon your body again, your face up towards the sun. Soaking in the heat of the sun, while your bottom half cooled in the lake. He was throbbing now. He couldn’t take it any longer, no matter how he fought he had to give him.

You were so beautiful, your wet hair sticking to your neck and back.

And so kind. It was what had drawn him to you, other than your beauty. Which he hated to admit he had noticed at first. Made him feel dirty, although not as dirty as he felt now. He felt like a damn pervert, yanking his hard cock out of his pants. He let out a soft groan as he squeezed the base, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

As much as he wanted to savor this, he knew he had to be quick. Fisting his dick in his hand, his knees buckling under him. Pleasure shot up his spine, another moan slipping past his lips. Water droplets running down your breast, along the curve of your soft stomach. Dear Christ just a bit more, he ran his palm over his slit and he was gone. His breath stole from his lungs. Sticky spent covering his hand, he panted leaning his head back

“Were you touching yourself?” Fuck. He shoved himself back in his pants, his eyes going wide as saucers as he looked up at you. Still dripping from the lake, your chemise near transparent against your body. When did you get out of the lake? A small smirk spreads across your plump lips.

“N-No ma’am!” He stutters, flushing under your gaze. “I wasn’t staring neither!” He says shaking his head, shoving his hand behind his back. Hiding the evidence of his shame from you.

“That’s a shame.” You said softly, shaking your head. His breath caught in his throat at your words.

“What- what do ya mean miss?” He sputtered, swallowing thickly.

“Said it’s a shame,” you said nonchalantly, your shirt and skirt under your arm as you set your hand on your hip. “Would have loved to watch.”

For the second time today Kieran swore he couldn’t breathe. His mouth opened and closed like a damn fish as you smiled up at him sweetly.

“Maybe next time.” You said over your shoulder, as you walked away. Swaying your hips as the sand from the shore rubbed off of your feet onto the grass.

He finished putting himself away, zipping up his pants as he ran after you. Your wish was his command.

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about old man Price trying lingerie for the first time 18+

Pairing: John Price x Top Male reader

Content tags: mirror sex, humping, toxic masculinity

Series/ One Shot: Old man Price trying…for the first time i,ii

Throughout the course of his life Price has been called various things. Some of them were intended as compliments while others were meant as insults.

However never once in his life has he been called pretty, that was until he met you and it seemed that was the only word you were willing to use for him.

Men weren’t pretty but to you Price was pretty even though he was twice as old as the men you usually dated, with crow feet around his eyes and smile lines that appeared on his face every time he laughed or smiled.

Men couldn’t be pretty but to you Price was pretty even with his lack of experience, tears spilling down his cheeks and drool dripping down his chin as he did his best to take your cock down his throat.

Men were only ever handsome and strong but to you Price was pretty, beautiful even when stark naked and splayed out on your bed, baring his body and heart to you.

So with that in mind he thought you’d find him pretty like this: dressed in a lingerie that appears as red as his face, with a plunging neckline that highlights his pecs, material so sheer it shows his perky nipples and so thin his chest hair pokes through it.

As his gaze trails lower down his body he sees the way his cock leaves a remarkable imprint on the lingerie, frail fabric prickling at his sack and sitting tight around his length.

For a second he wonders if he should turn around, put his clothes back on, and forget that this ever happened.

But he’s already gone through the humiliation of getting the underwear, had even looked the cashier straight in the eyes and lied when he had said the piece was a gift for his girlfriend. It would be a waste not to go through with the plan.

However what he hadn’t expected was for you to walk in so soon, unaware he was standing in the room, and only dressed in skimpy underwear.

“John have you seen my-“ you don’t even finish your sentence, completely freezing in place and mouth falling agape as you take in the sight of the older man.

“Jesus Christ “ you say, sounding like the breath has been punched out of your lungs, not anything like you’re wondering why a man would ever wear something like that and everything like why a man like him hasn’t worn something like this before.

“When -when did you get this ?” You croak out, while carefully approaching the older man.

“I got it the other day, what do you think?”for a second he feels fear creeping up his neck, bile rising up in his throat as his legs ready themselves to run away in shame but then you say the one word you always seem to use for him and relief floods his body.

“Pretty”

“Yeah?” Is all he says, feeling butterflies swarm his stomach as his cock twitches in excitement.

You only hum in response as you hook a shaky finger around one of the shoulder straps, as if to take a better look at the piece before you harshly tug at it, and crash your lips together.

A surprised gasp escapes his lips, body momentarily tensing before he relaxes and returns the kiss.

One of your hands buries itself in his locks while the other hand slides lower down his body to cup his cheek, squeezing the tense muscles there.

“Please please “ he mumbles against your lips, not even knowing what he’s asking for as he tries to pull you impossibly closer to him.

“Oh fuck, look at yourself,” he hears you grunt out, before you swiftly turn him around, pressing your palm down on his lower back and forcing him to bend over and look himself right in the mirror.

When he sees his own reflection in the mirror , he almost doesn’t recognize himself. His hair is mussed, face flushed and mouth agape. For a second he dares think he looks-

“So so so pretty” he hears you say, sounding absolutely entranced as you grind your cock up against the cleft of his ass, pushing the coarse fabric further up the sensitive flesh and creating a delightful friction between his legs.

“Don’t- don’t tease please” he whines out as he arches up, ass pressing harsher down onto your clothed cock.

There’s a ripping sound being heard throughout the room, a brief stinging feeling grazing his skin before the lingerie’s being thrown carelessly onto the carpeted floor.

“ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll buy ah I’ll buy you more- so many more just- ah- just need you right now” you say through labored breaths while sloppily grinding up against his ass.

And as he sees your shaky hands unbuckling your belt through the reflection of the mirror, and hears the curses escaping you lips when you can’t get your jeans off fast enough and feels your hard cock pressing up against the cleft of his ass, he feels pretty, so pretty.

[chaotic-mystery]

Needy Baby | Joel Miller

Dbf! Joel Miller x f!reader

✰ 18+ ✰ MDNI ✰

To set the mood, here’s some songs:

❦ unholy - hey violet

❦tonight you are mine - the technicolors

❦ the summoning - sleep token

❦ the undertaker (don’t shoot the messenger version) - Puscifer

CW: oral (f receiving), swearing, age gap implied, talking you through it

“Did you find it, baby?” Joel asks as he pushes the door to your dads garage open.

A sigh leaves your lips with frustration, slamming a drawer to the tool box shut.

“No, Joel I didn’t and I don’t know why he sent me out here to find it when both of your asses could’ve found it faster.”

He leaves a few kisses against the back of your head as you’re searching another drawer, his hands giving your hips a soft squeeze.

“It’s okay, I'll look for it darlin’. Lose the attitude will ya?”

Your back was cold once again, missing his body heat immediately as he started looking on the other side of the garage.

“I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated. You look so good in that shirt, I haven’t seen you in a few days, and I can’t touch you or anything while you’re in the house with my dad. It’s driving me insane, I can hardly be around you in there.”

Your words sound so silly as they leave your lips, but it was the truth. He only responded with a light chuckle and that only made you feel even more stupid for saying what you did.

“Look it’s fine I’ll just go inside and tell him i didn’t fin-” you were turning around just as he pinned you in against the tool box, his lips crashing onto yours.

“You aren’t going anywhere until I take care of you, pretty girl. Why didn’t you just say you needed me?” He knelt down in front of you, dragging your jean shorts with him. 

“How long have you been this soaked for me baby doll?” he asks as he nips at your wet panties, tugging the fabric between his lips.

His hands come up to caress your ass, spanking it roughly as he groans into your clothed clit. “Since I heard your truck pull in the drive way and I instantly thought about you fucking me. Joel please don’t tease I’ve missed you a lot” breathlessly you say, getting more and more frustrated.

Cold metal touched your hip as you heard fabric being cut, and before you knew it your panties were gone. You looked down, his eyes locked with yours as he licked your sensitive clit slowly. Tossing your head back against the tool box, he shoved himself further into you. His fingers glided up and down your slick folds, a wet clicking sound filling your ears before he shoves a finger inside you.

“God damn you’re so needy for me aren’t you, angel. Listen to that pretty pussy just purring for me.”

Your moans were getting louder, your hands gripping his hair as you rock against his face.

“Joel, jesus christ you’re so fucking good to me. Keep going baby”

Palming your breasts with your free hand, you could feel you were close. You loved cumming on his face, seeing his beard glisten with your juices. His finger curled inside of you pumping faster as his tongue circled around your clit harder.

“Come for me baby doll, come all over my face. You’re such a needy girl when you don’t see me for a while. Show me who this pussy belongs to.”

 It felt like the world was ending all around you as you came hard. So hard that you couldn’t make a sound for the first few seconds of coming undone. Your body jolted forward, riding your high on his face. The vibrations from his moans kept you riding until you finally had enough and slowed to a stop. He stood up and kissed you roughly and your tongues shared your sweet juices he lapped up. Cupping your face gently, he pulled back and kissed your forehead.

“C'mon baby, put ya shorts back on, we’ve been out here long enough. Besides, I already found what we needed as soon as I walked in.”

He winked at you and bent down to grab your shorts off the floor. As you both collected yourself and walked back to the house, you let him go first so he could tell your dad another famous Joel lie.

“She walked right in front of it, man. I wanted to see how long it would take for her to see it” he joked with your dad and the three of you laughed, and suddenly you noticed your panties were sticking out of his back pocket.

Sneakily trying to hide the trophy he decided to keep, you asked your dad to grab you a water bottle from the fridge. The door was open long enough to shield your dads eyes, for you to push the cut fabric down in his pocket, and give him a squeeze on his ass. 

[stevethehairington]

i’ve seen so many fics and threads and posts about virgin eddie who comes way too fast the first time he and steve do anything even slightly heavier than some light making out, which i LOVE — don’t get me wrong

but, consider:

virgin eddie who comes way too fast the first time he and steve do anything even slightly heavier than some light making out, who was so focused on trying (and failing) not to come too soon, who is so embarrassed in the aftermath of doing just that, that he doesn’t even realize that steve ended up beating him to the punch.

they’re on the couch in eddie’s trailer. wayne’s out so they have the whole place to themselves.

steve’s sitting with his spine pressed against the back of the couch, and he’s got a lapful of eddie. eddie’s knees are on either side of steve’s thighs, digging in high by the crease of his hip, and he’s poised above steve, holding himself up.

his arms are around steve’s neck, and steve’s are around his waist — low on his waist, as in, almost groping his ass low.

steve’s chin is tilted up and eddie’s is tilted down so their lips can meet in the middle in a heated kiss. a messy kiss. wet and hot and a little bitey at times and a lot overwhelming. steve’s mouth is something else. warm and velvety, sweet and sure. he knows how to use his tongue, and he’s not holding back with it.

eddie’s trying his hardest not to blow his load right then and there.

this is the furthest they’ve gone yet, this high intensity, borderline bump and grind makeout session — because that’s what it is. a borderline bump and grind. 

in this position, eddie’s dick is caught between them, still tucked away in his pants, but trapped between his own body and steve’s abdomen. every time steve shifts, his stomach brushes against the bulge in eddie’s pants, and eddie nearly whines from how good that ghost of a touch feels. he can’t help himself when he rocks forward, just a little, just enough, desperately seeking out that delicious friction. he can feel steve below him, too. the tent in his pants just grazing eddie’s ass every time he moves.

it’s driving him insane, and eddie is seconds away from exploding.

and then — oh, oh shit. fuckingfuckfuckfuck.

eddie explodes. 

far too soon. christ, steve didn’t even get a goddamned hand on him. his pants didn’t even come off — hell, the fly didn’t even get undone!

eddie breaks the kiss and buries his face into steve’s neck, breathing heavily against the soft skin there. hiding his embarrassment where steve can’t see it.

steve, for what it’s worth, doesn’t seem to notice. not at first, anyways. one of his hands slides up eddie’s back, his touch soothing, while the other stays against eddie’s hip. “shit, eddie,” steve breathes into his hair.

when eddie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move from steve’s neck — that’s when steve notices something’s up.

“eddie?” he asks. “hey, what’s wrong?”

eddie groans. shakes his head. doesn’t move.

“eddie,” steve repeats, drawing his hand back down eddie’s back. “talk to me, come on. what is it? did i do something?”

and jesus, no. steve didn’t do anything but be his perfect, sexy, stupid self.

well. time to face the music.

with another muffled groan, eddie pulls his face from steve’s neck. it’s burning, flaming, so red that he probably matches the blanket spread over the arm of the sofa.

“i fucking— i didn’t fucking last, okay? i shot off like a god damn fucking firecracker in, like, ten seconds flat,  jesus christ.”

he shoves his hands over his face then, not wanting steve to see how embarrassed he is. how fucking humiliated.

only, steve doesn’t laugh. doesn’t tease eddie. he doesn’t even try to console him, either. instead, he curls his fingers around eddie’s wrist and tugs at his hands until he can pull them away from his face. he drags one down to his own crotch. presses eddie’s palm against the front of his shorts and— oh. they’re wet. like he — like steve came in his pants too.

just as quickly as eddie.

oh.

“you know, if you made it ten seconds flat, i must’ve only made it five,” steve tells him, and the thing is — the thing is. he means it. he’s serious about it.

holy fuck.

“you—”

steve nods, before eddie can finish that thought. “yeah,” he says. “i fucking did. because of you. because you’re so fucking hot, eddie. and you were just— just moving that like, right in my lap, and that was just, fuck, way too much — in a good way. in the best way. i just— couldn’t handle it.” 

steve’s cheeks are rosy, like maybe he’s a little embarrassed about it too. but that sparkle in his eye, that smile stretching that pretty mouth of his — he looks pleased. delighted, even. like coming in his pants — eddie making him come in his pants — in less than thirty fucking seconds is the highlight of his god damn day.

what really gets eddie, is that it probably is.

“you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about,” steve promises, reading eddie without him having to even say a thing. “i like it when you ‘shoot off like a god damn firecracker’,” he echoes eddie’s words back to him. “it’s hot. it makes me feel fucking good, eddie.”

“oh,” eddie breathes. he hadn’t considered that.

“besides,” steve says, letting go of eddie’s wrist so he can snake his arm back around his waist — so he can dip his hand back down to his ass. “we’ve got plenty of time to work on your stamina.” 

“yours too, apparently,” eddie shoots back, finding some of that confidence he usually carries in spades, letting a grin unfurl across his mouth.

steve barks out a laugh. “mine too,” he agrees. his hand slips into the back pocket of eddie’s jeans and cups his ass through the fabric. he gives it a squeeze and quirks an eyebrow. “race ya?”

eddie’s laugh is swallowed by steve’s mouth as he recaptures it into another searing kiss.

oh yeah, eddie thinks, nipping on steve’s bottom lip, giving his hips an experimental roll that pulls a groan out of steve, lets have some fun with this.

[ournosleep69-blog]

Joel Takes Your Virginity (yippee)

Haven’t done this in a while, so please bear with me!! I also need more ideas for what to write LOL. Thinking about doing some Arthur Morgan stories?? Mayhaps?? I also do angst & fluff YIPPEEE

Pairing: Joel Miller (hbo) x fem!reader (use of she/her, feminine terms)

Word count: 4.3k Warnings & Content: Smut, 18+. Age gap (reader is 19, Joel in his 40s), fem!reader, oral - female receiving, praise, P-in-V unprotected, loss of virginity, slight awkwardness, established relationship, creampie, dom!Joel, marking, sleepy aftercare, veryvery smutty, set in Jackson.

It’s already been a wonderful eleven months being with Joel. Sure, moving into his house before you two had even crossed a year together was a little bit risky, yet, it felt right; still feels right. Plus, you two had connected before you’d even gotten together, so it wasn’t as if it happened completely out of the blue.

Everything was amazing - Joel was the best boyfriend you could ask for; sweet, gentle, yet protective and ready to defend you if it came down to it (and it has, many times). He was thoughtful, and never wanted you to do things yourself, even if it was as simple as making coffee in the mornings. The age gap may earn some…questionable looks from a few randoms here in Jackson, but he never cared. Joel loved you loud, and he was damn proud of it.

On an intimacy level, however, you two hadn’t gone past the casual late-night makeout sessions, the hickeys here and there, the occasional groping. But it never went past any of that. It began to frustrate you, even if it was your doing. You stopped things before they went past that line of intimacy, but it was only because you were scared. What if you weren’t as good as the other girls he’s had? How many girls has he had, exactly? What if you can’t please him the first time-

“Thinkin’ hard over there?” Joel’s gruff voice interrupts your thoughts as his large hand comes out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His words ground you back into reality, and suddenly, you’re back on the couch with your boyfriend, watching some cheesy action film on a small TV. “Starin’ off into space like that, you alright?” 

Your gaze flickers over to Joel, noticing his hand gently squeezing your thigh in a reassuring manner. He seems to be worried, his brows furrowed, the slight wrinkles on his forehead deepening.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly brush his worries aside. Your hand reaches out to grab his own, feeling the way his palm and fingers nearly dwarf yours in size. “Just thinking.”

“Thinkin’?” With a grunt, the Texan shifts closer to you, his free hand trailing down to your chin to tilt your head in his direction. God, the man was stunning. Even in his late forties, he looked so full of youth. His brown eyes, deep and intense, met yours, beckoning you to be honest.

A sense of uncertainty fills your brain. It’s best to be honest, but you feel odd talking about it - intimacy was never your strong suit, even if it’s only because you were so inexperienced. So, you inhale a deep breath, your eyes fluttering slightly as you prepare to express yourself. 

“I wanna…well,” it’d be nice to turn your head and dodge his eye contact because you can already feel your cheeks heating up, but he keeps you in place. “I just think maybe we, uh, we take things..” Fuck, this was hard.

“I want to have sex. With you. Uhm, right. Yeah.” Jesus Christ, you kick yourself mentally, a palm slapping over your face in embarrassment. That was so awkward you might as well have just jumped his bones instead.

 You can see a wave of surprise rush over Joel’s features. His eyes widen slightly, lips parting to say something, yet he remains silent, only the sounds of his near-silent breaths filling the room. The hand on your thigh tightens just a bit. 

He then clears his throat, “you sure, pumpkin? That’s a big step. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can go as slow as you w-” But you cut him off by leaning in just slightly. The air between you thickens with tension, and you can feel Joel’s body tensing with anticipation. 

“I’m ready,” it’s all Joel needed to grab your hand, leading you up from the couch and towards your shared bedroom upstairs.

  ☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was a quick mess of clothes being discarded as soon as you two passed the threshold leading into the bedroom. Joel’s arms are tight around your waist, your own clinging to his shirt while your lips fight for dominance; a fight Joel quickly wins every. Single. Time.

Hot tongues slide and tangle against each other while your feet step towards the bed. Joel’s strong arms, marred with scars and scratches from all of his arduous years of surviving, guide you to lay back on the bed. 

“Just lay back, sweetheart. I wanna make your first time somethin’ special, you hear me?” The older man murmurs whilst slowly crawling on top of you.

Your back sinks into the fluffy softness of the covers, eyes flitting up to meet Joel’s intense ones. His gaze is roving over your body, pupils widening at the sight of every inch; the swell of your breasts, your flared hips, those plush lips and beautiful eyes. He could spend countless hours just ranting about how amazing you are, how special you are to him. 

How much he loves you.

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, breath warming the skin there whenever he talks. And the way his hand slides up to your stomach, tracing the contours, makes your insides clench. Though things were starting to get steamy, the nerves were starting to take over.

“Hey, hey. Darlin’, breathe,” You tried to keep it together as much as you could, but Joel could see the slight tremble in your body, the way you were unintentionally digging your nails into his shoulder. “Are you sure this is somethin’ you want?”

“Yes. It- It is. I know it…it doesn’t seem like it, but,” a shy laugh escapes your lips, and you loosen your grip. “But I want this. I’m serious, Joel.” 

At your words, the Texan nods firmly. His touch resumes on your stomach, fingertips trailing up and over your ribcage, feeling the ridges even through the skin. His touch is featherlight, calming even. And then his fingers brush against the bottom of your underwear, earning a gasp from your mouth.

“Someone’s eager..” He murmurs, shifting his hips nearly imperceptibly. But you could feel the hot bulge of his arousal pressed to the soft flesh of your inner thigh, the way it twitches through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“I could- could say the same about, uh, you,” It sounded a lot smoother in your head, but not so much when you stutter it out.

But he was right. The soft cotton panties that adorned your hips were damp in the crotch from your arousal, the slickness only growing with each touch, each loving caress from your older lover.

“Remember what I said, pumpkin. Breathe, in and out.” For someone so…intimidating, Joel can never help himself from babying you; especially in this moment of pure vulnerability for you, for your relationship.

Taking his advice, you suck in a deep breath, letting the oxygen sit in your lungs for a few seconds before you exhale just as slowly. The nerves are still there, but they’re calming down, and you can feel yourself enjoying the moment even more.

Joel can tell, too, because his touch becomes bolder. Leaning in, his lips descend upon your neck. He makes sure to carefully nip at the sensitive flesh behind your ear, earning a soft moan. But the acts of affection lower, and he starts to trail down the column of your throat with them, occasionally slipping the tip of his tongue out to taste you.

By the time he’s got you more opened up to the idea of this, you’re squirming under him, trying to press your hips up into his own. He chuckles, the movement making his beard scratch nicely against your jawline.

One of his hands begins to slip down, dipping below the elastic waistband of your underwear. He stops just short of actually making contact with your pussy, his fingers pulling back slightly. Joel leans his head back, only enough to look down at you. He can see the flush on your cheeks and it makes his dick throb. 

“Is this okay?” He asks with a slight tilt of his head, those weathered puppy eyes staring longingly into yours.

“Yeah..” You breathe. The anticipation combined with your arousal is sending tingles up your legs and into the apex of your thighs, amplifying every one of your intense feelings. Your pulse quickens, the steady thrum of your heart filling your ears.

Without hesitation, his fingers finally make contact with your most intimate area. Joel emits a soft groan, while you emit an even softer whimper. His touch is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your legs and lower stomach, even if he hasn’t touched a particularly sensitive area yet.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he whispers, voice hoarse and full of incredulousness. The older man continues his exploration of your cunt, index finger languidly sliding between your hot folds, feeling the way it glides so easily from your evident need. You’re too flustered to say anything, so you only look away, wanting to shrink away from his gaze. 

“Hey, look at me. Please.” 

You tilt your head back, too weak and in love to ignore his loving plea. A genuine, tender smile curls at the corners of his lips. “I wanna see every emotion on that pretty lil’ face, ‘kay?”

“Fuck-” You gasp again when his digits find your clit, beginning to rub tight circles over the sensitive bud. It throbs under his touch, your legs quivering just a bit while your entrance clenches around nothing, eager to be filled with something. Anything.

“S’alright, let it out.” Joel praises lovingly as he kisses your cheek, continuing his movements that have your hips rocking up and arching to chase that pleasurable feeling. 

With his thumb now replacing his fingers, Joel pays more attention to your entrance. But before he does anything, he suddenly lifts off of you. You whine at the loss of the pleasurable sensation, but he only gives you a soft ‘shh’, reassuring you that he’s nowhere near done working you up.

The older man finally settles between your thighs, his rough hands sliding up to your hips. His fingers curl around the waistband, pulling them off in one easy - or easy-looking - movement. The cool air brushing against your swollen folds makes you shudder, your toes curling on the sheets. It’d be surprising that you aren’t feeling exposed or uncomfortable, yet, you’re with Joel, and you trust him more than anyone.

“God, look at that,” A soft kiss is pressed to your mound, making you jump a little. “Every goddamn inch of you is perfect, sweetheart.” he admires.

It’s like you completely shut out every other feeling when Joel’s tongue comes out, mimicking the way his finger had slid between your folds just minutes ago. You can only focus on the wet, heady feeling of his tongue, of the way it brushes once more against your swollen clit.

Another mousy cry of need escapes you, yet your eyes are trained on Joel’s - you don’t want to disobey him. Watching him go down on you for the first time is so fucking erotic. “You taste even better than I imagined.” 

Fuck. 

Joel’s ministrations become more intense. His tongue flicks and works around your needy bud, not daring to overstimulate you before you two have even begun. Those arms come to wraps around your thighs, keeping you in place as he begins to feast on you like a man once starved. 

“Holy shit,” Your hands lose themselves in the soft salt-and-pepper locks of Joel’s hair, tugging his face closer to your dripping cunt. This only makes him double down on his efforts, the obscene sounds of his tongue licking and lapping filling the room.

Joel stops for a moment, looking down. His hand pulls away from your thigh, bringing two fingers to his mouth. Then, he’s looking back into your heated stare, sucking them into his mouth, getting them slick enough to slip inside of you. 

Now, this part was a little intimidating. Sure, you’ve touched yourself many a time, yet you’ve never put something inside of you. It makes you nervous to think about, but then you stop to  think. He’s never hurt me before.

“Please be careful.” The words leave your lips before you can stop yourself.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ you, kid.” 

The tip of only one digit breaches your small entrance, making you exhale a shaky sigh. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels unfamiliar, and your thighs threaten to lock around his head. Joel slides it in slowly, pupils blown wide at the feel of your velvety walls clinging to his finger, trying to pull him deeper. “I’d say you’re already up for a second. Carefully, ‘course.” 

Your left hand loosens the grip it had on his hair, coming down to hold the one still around your thigh for support. Joel wastes no time in intertwining your fingers together, offering three comforting squeezes that melt your heart. I love you.

It’s a little longer of a process for your body to relax enough to let him slip in a second digit. The two inside of you stretch you just a bit, and the sensation is…odd. It’s not painful though, not when Joel’s muttering words of praise and reassurance the entire time.

“I think…I think you can move now.” You decide. 

As if on cue, Joel’s fingers begin to slip in and out of your entrance, wanting to get you acquainted with the feeling. And once you do, he curls them up. They brush against your g-spot, feeling the spongy yet hard surface against the tips with each thrust.

Even the slightest touch as your back arched off the bed, a keening moan filling the room. Joel only smiles contentedly, lowering his head to begin suckling at your clit.

Your toes curl once again, and you cry out. “Oh my god, Joel-” Each flick of his tongue, each movement of his fingers has you grinding against his mouth, unable to hold back. The flush on your cheeks has bloomed down to your neck, the cutest sight to the older man who absolutely adores you. “That feels s- so fucking good-”

“Let it out. Be as loud as you need to, baby,” his southern drawl comes out husky with arousal, yet he pushes through. His desires can wait, he’s only worried about making sure you have the best first time. It only comes once, but he wants to make sure you do multiple times tonight.

The praise sets you off, the combination of being fingered and eaten out has you an absolute blissed-out mess. He hums against your cunt, sending vibrations through your entire body. Your hand tightens in his, your head thrown back.

Just another minute or so passes, and you feel the intense tug in your lower stomach. Close, already. Joel can tell as well, seeing the way your walls are fluttering around him as he finger-fucks you with care. His tongue keeps the same steady pace, not wanting to change it up and make you lose the building climax.

“Joel- Joel! Fuck, don’t stop, please!” 

And just like that, one more flick of Joel’s tongue, one more thrust of his digits, has you tumbling headfirst over the finish line. Your climax is intense, easily one of the most intense you’ve had in your short life. Thighs clenched tightly around his head, you cry out in ecstasy as your legs tremble and feel like jelly, walls contracting while your juices spill down to Joel’s palm.

And through it all, the older man’s mouth and hand keeps moving, prolonging your orgasm until you're a writhing, boneless heap on the bed beneath him. Your face glistens with that post-orgasmic glow, chest heaving with each gasp for air.

While you’re still reeling, Joel slowly removes his fingers. He presses kisses up along your body, only stopping when he reaches your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue - slightly tangy and salty, mixed with something uniquely you. It should gross you out, but it only serves to keep your arousal up, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

“You did so good, so fuckin’ good,” Joel mumbles between kisses. The kisses aren’t overly eager; no, they’re full of adoration and tenderness, and the desire to make you feel the best that you possibly can.

You already feel like a puddle of goo, but the way he’s complimenting you only makes you melt even more. But something snaps you from your thoughts - his length, once again, pressed to your thigh. It’s as hard as a fucking rock, and you know it has to hurt as this point. One glance down and you can see the wet patch from the pre-cum staining his boxers, and it makes you shudder.

“Keep going..” you murmur, voice weak and slightly husky from the climax. Joel only looks at you with a curious lift of his brow. But you only nod, even beginning to rub your thigh against his bulge.

“Are you sure, pumpkin? I mean- fuck.” The growl deep in his chest makes your pussy wetter, and you can see his hips twitch slightly, wanting to chase that friction. “Alright, alright.” He chuckles.

Pulling back so he’s on his knees, the Texan moves to tug his waistband down.The boxers slip down his muscular thighs with ease, revealing the neatly trimmed forest at the base of his shaft, and most importantly, the seven and a half inch length of his cock. It springs free, slapping against his stomach as he leans back, giving you the full view. It’s thick, veiny, and clearly in need of release. It twitches once again, the tip an angry pink.

You’ve felt it multiple times during your makeout sessions, and even seen it during showers together, but this was entirely different.

“This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?” You swallow thickly. The nerves rush back, making your stomach drop and clench with anticipation. All you can think is ‘how is that supposed to fit in that?’

“I won’t let it,” he’s quick to dispel your fears, once again. “I promise ya’.” 

You watch on in aroused disbelief as Joel spits into his calloused palm before he brings it down to wrap around his shaft. “You’ve got me hard as a damn rock, kid.” His head tilts back, strong jaw clenching under his beard as he starts to stroke it with lazy pumps of his fist. It must be only to lubricate it, because he’s back to hovering his body over yours. “Ain’t a surprise though, huh?”

With one hand moving to guide his length to your soaked pussy, the other moves back to slide into your own, holding your hand to support you through what’s going to be your first time having sex.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel’s soothing words fill you with ease. He kisses your forehead, pouring every ounce of his true love for you into the action. He’s not a man of many words, but you melt down that gruff exterior, and he loves you all the more for it. “So perfect. And all mine, ain’t that right?” It’s possessive, but he’s not mean about it. You nod, and he smiles. “Can you say it for me, pumpkin? Go on, I know ya’ can.”

Trying to gather up the words while Joel’s swiping his cockhead through your folds for lubrication is nearly impossible. Your hand tightens on his, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the task you’ve been given.

“I- I’m all yours, Joel.” You finally breathe, gasping when his tip breaches your entrance. It feels thicker than his two fingers, and there’s a slight burning sensation that comes with being stretched like that.

Joel grunts, one hand beside your head to keep himself up. His other simply squeezes yours back, grounding you to the situation. “I know, baby, I know. Deep breaths, breathe through it.” 

The encouragement is enough, and you start to breathe deeply as he begins to sink inch by inch inside of your tight, wet, velvety heat. You’ve never been stretched so fully - or at all for that matter - it makes you wince, yet clench your muscles around him.

“I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” Joel grunts, the pleasure nearly overtaking him. It’s so fucking tight around his cock, he fights the urge to just start thrusting right then and there. But he’d never hurt you, especially not for some selfish need for pleasure. “Say it back, sweetheart, let me hear those words from your pretty ‘lil’ mouth.”

It clicks right then and there; he’s distracting you, trying to make you focus on anything other than the feeling of him stretching you wide around his arousal. It’s so sweet it nearly brings tears to your eyes. In fact, it does. Your eyes fill with unshed tears at the sentiment, and you cling tighter to him.

“I love you.” 

The older man finally buries himself to the hilt inside of your cunt, his breathing slightly ragged. He stills to let you work out the foreign feeling for a few moments, leaning down to kiss your cheeks, even kissing away the few tears that had escaped.

“Say it again, kid.” 

“F- Fuck- I love you-” 

“Atta girl.” Joel encourages warmly, and he begins to piston his hips in gentle, languid strokes. Each thrust has him groaning, mouth pressed against your collarbone, which he begins to mark up with hickeys. It’s a reminder of the trust you put into him, the trust he wouldn’t break for the world. “I love you more.”

Meanwhile, each thrust has you making your own coos of pleasure. The feel of his cock nestled inside of you, each roll of his hips that has his pelvis grinding against your oh-so-sensitive clit, is driving you insane with gratification. With unadulterated need. 

Your bodies fit and move together like pieces of a puzzle, your legs wrapped tight against his waist as he drives into you over and over. The pain and burn had begun to fade, opening up to extreme pleasure every time the slight curve of his cock pressed against your g-spot. 

Your noises, combined with the slapping of flesh, fills your ears, making it impossible to focus on anything else; not that you’d want to anyway. And the noises you were making were making Joel inch towards the edge, no matter how hard he tried to fight against it.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, my god, pumpkin,” Joel growls. Making sure you’re still holding onto his hand, his other one slips back down - making sure to caress your breasts adoringly on the way - to rub circles into your bud. You mewl, the dual stimulation serving to heighten your pleasure even more. Your walls clamp down on Joel’s shaft, making him let out a strangled moan. It was no secret, you were both so close.

“I want- ah, shit-” The Texan mutters, trying to find his bearings while his hips begin to rut faster, chasing the release he craves. “I want you to cum with me, kid. Let it- Let it wash over ya’. Deep breaths.”

Joel redoubles his efforts, wanting you to find that wave of ecstasy beside him. He can tell you're close, and with the way his balls draw up tight, he can tell he is too.

“Joel-” Your nails dig into his hand, leaving deep crescent-shaped marks with every step closer you take to the edge. “I- I’m gonna-”

“Shit, darlin’-” It’s not long before you both find that much-needed orgasm. Joel’s lips crash against yours, groaning gutturally into your mouth, his hips bucking. Your climax triggered his own, walls keeping him deep inside while his cock twitches and pulses, emptying ropes of thick, hot cum deep inside your womb until he’s spent and panting.

Your legs had locked tight around him, squeezing him while you rode out your own waves of pleasure. Your cries were muffled by his lips, by his tongue. It was somehow even more intense than the previous one, your juices flowing and dripping down his shaft.

Joel carefully collapses on top of you, his hands moving to gather your boneless form into his comforting arms. “There you go, sweetheart. You did so good. So good for me.” He whispers against your ear, turning your bodies to the side so you were snuggled against the hard planes of his chest instead of laying under him.

“Was it okay?” He asks, genuinely caring about your wellbeing whilst he peppers kisses all over your face. His softening cock slips out of you with a soft pop, a trail of your combined fluids leaking from your well-loved hole and onto the blankets below. 

“Okay?” You ask in a tired voice, your face pressed against his neck. “That was...that was fucking amazing.”

Joel chuckles, the deep rumble of it vibrating in his chest and filling your ear. “Good, kid. I’m glad.” There’s a sense of accomplishment in the way he holds himself in this very moment. He’s proud he’s satisfied you, turned your first time into something you’ll never forget. “Don’t worry about cleanin’ up just yet. Lemme hold ya’.” 

“Mhm..” You’re so out of it that you’re already falling asleep - and Joel’s kisses aren’t making it any easier to stay awake. The scent of him fills your nose, the comforting smell surrounding you in warmth and familiarity. “How…how was I?”

“The best I ever had. Ever.” His thick fingers start to trace invisible patterns around your back, his movements reverent - he was being genuine with his words, you could hear it in his voice. 

“Get some sleep, baby girl. I love you more than anything. And I mean that.” His breath nearly catches, a lump forming in his throat. The man quickly clears his throat, not wanting to get all sappy on you when you’re trying to sleep. Though, he does whisper one last thing before closing his own dark eyes, letting exhaustion wash over him as well.

“Anything, kid.”