#and you know what. he would. he would put mascara on all of those eyes

[winds-of-zephyr416]

Forever and ever in love with that genre of Sauron fanart that’s basically cosmic horror meets material girl

[hydrobunny]

cheeks pink in the twinkling lights

tags: established relationship, fluff

a/n: saw the fem sae leak and immediately wrote this in half an hour

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“i think you would be pretty as a girl,” you murmur. 

sae itoshi’s eyes snap open, glaring up at you from where his head lays on your lap. “repeat that?” his tone is cold.

you meet his gaze, cocking your head innocently. “i think you would be pretty as a girl. with your bangs down, a little mascara on those lashes,” you hum, considerate. “probably a glittery lip gloss.”

he scoffs. “and you'd be fucking ugly as a guy.”

your jaw drops. “what the hell?” you slap his shoulder, wriggling. sae stays put. “get off of me. no way you just called me ugly.”

his only tenses his body further. “as a guy. clear difference.”

you halfheartedly push him again, somewhat offended still. “i think i would be hot as a guy, actually. all the girls would love me. but i would only come home to you, sae-chan,” you lilt the last words, laughter clear in your tone.

sae smoothly rolls off of you, disgust roiling off of him in waves. “you sound like sendou,” he mutters, standing. 

you blink up at him. “i sound- what? is sendou calling you sae-chan? do i have another striker to worry about? are you giving your number to this one too?”

sae shoots you another look. “if sendou called me that, he would be dead in the ground. no, he told me i would make a pretty girl once,” he pauses. “and you don’t need to worry about anyone.”

that possibly did not answer your question. “okay, that last bit was smooth. but- why is sendou thinking about what you look like as a girl?”

he rolls his eyes. “they went through my bag last match. found your makeup. which you should not be leaving in my shit.”

the words take you a second to comprehend. “and they thought you- you’re joking!” you gasp. “tell me you’re joking.”

sae’s face only darkens. “i don’t joke. fucking idiots, all of them.”

that only makes you start laughing, genuine tears pricking into your eyes. “oh my god. they think you wear lip gloss. sendou thinks you would-” you trail off, words dissolving into laughter.

he fixes you with another glare. “it’s not funny. and you’re not funny.”

you pause, studying his face. he raises an eyebrow.

“do you want to try?”

his face scrunches in confusion. “try what.”

“lip gloss,” you beam.

before he can reply, you're rummaging in the pocket of your jacket, ignoring the jingle of spare change in a matter of seconds, there is a shiny gloss in your hands.

sae glares at you in incredulity. “have you lost-” 

he stops, watching you apply the gloss liberally onto your lips instead. 

with a grin and a glint in your eye, your dramatically pucker your lips. “you know you want to.”

sae stares. and then he's stepping close, exasperation clear in his face. still, with the faintest of grumbles, he dutifully leans down, his lips meeting yours.

you've kissed hundreds of time. still, each one only seems to get sweeter.

the gloss is still sticky. he tastes like peppermint gum.

with a sigh, you break the kiss. sae’s eyes stay on yours, half-lidded and intense. 

you smile lazily, studying his face.

“you do look great with makeup.”

[redeemingvillains]

riddle's girl - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has…feelings about you wearing his quidditch jersey

word count: 2.5k

a/n: just more fluffy sweetness! in my mind this takes place shortly after cold comfort, but they're really unrelated so this can be read as a standalone! ♡

There weren't a lot of things Mattheo liked about being a prefect. He had no interest in being the Slytherin house snitch, in shutting down parties or telling kids they couldn't smoke in the bathroom. So, he didn't do any of it; he threw parties, stole their joints and dared anyone to tell him he couldn't do otherwise.

There weren't many people willing to stand up to the Dark Lord's son, and those that were were pulling the same shit right alongside him. So, he did none of the work but got all of the perks, up to and including having his own room, which, once he started dating you turned out to be just about his favorite thing in the world, and, also, a necessity if the rest of the castle didn't want to be up listening to the two of you at all hours of the night... and morning... and afternoon.

He smirked as he hurried through the halls, eager to get to you, knowing you would be in his room now waiting for him. It was a few hours before his first quidditch match of the year and you were his good luck charm, a necessary part of his pre-match routine.

As he whispered the password to the entrance of his room, he could hear your music playing as you sang along softly to it, probably Taylor Swift, which he'd tell you to turn off but now so closely associated with you that he found himself listening to her even when you weren't around (though he'd deny it to anyone that asked).

He smiled as he walked through the door and took in the sight in front of him: there were little parts of you scattered all over the room, which felt just as much yours as it was his; stacks of your books and a flickering candle took over his bookshelf, a bra and an unkempt pile of clothes on his chair, and you were seated at his desk which you had taken over completely to do your makeup, leaning into a small mirror applying mascara before you caught his eye and turned to face him excitedly.

"Hi!" you said, even more bubbly than usual as you popped up and walked over to him, nearly throwing yourself into his arms as he caught your lips with his own and pulled you into him.

"Mmpf!" you mumbled against his lips in surprise before pulling away. "Wait, wait wait, what do you think?" you said, stepping back to show him your outfit with your arms extended even as he made grabby hands trying to pull you back.

You were in one of his team-issued quidditch jerseys; it engulfed you, coming to the midpoint of your thighs which were bare, the sight an absolute vision that had every part of him twitching to toss you onto the bed.

"Fucking hot" he said with a smirk, his brown eyes wide and twinkling. "Maybe put some pants on before you go, but that sounds like a problem for later us."

"Matty!" you laughed, smacking his arm to scold him before you turned to give him the 360-degree view.

You paused with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side and looking over your shoulder at him... and he swore his heart stopped beating in his chest as he fully registered the sight in front of him: You. Wearing his last name. "Riddle" prominently spelled out on the back of the jersey.

His eyebrows drew together and he brought his hand to his chest, subconsciously resting on his heart, a look of discomfort on his face that immediately had you turning back to him.

"Oh—are you— is this okay?" you asked.

It was tradition for girlfriends to wear their boyfriends' jerseys the first match of the year, but you two had barely just started dating and you had never talked about this; he truthfully didn't seem into this kind of thing and now you were worried you'd taken things too far.

Mattheo still hadn't said anything, still had trouble catching his breath. Conceptually he understood it was just you in his jersey, but you wearing his last name like that had shifted something inside him. YN Riddle, YN Riddle was all he could think in his head, how much he liked the sound of it, and what that meant... he was a fucking goner for you. You had turned his life on its head in the short period of time you two had been dating and he had no intention of scaring you away with the idea of marriage months into a relationship - what the hell was the matter with him??

...And who says you'd even want to marry him or take his name for that matter? No one in their right mind would want to marry into his family or take a name that was spoken like a curse. He thought of the way people spit it out of their mouths, like they hated the very taste of it on their tongue. He couldn't, wouldn't do that to you, realizing finally that what he was looking at in front of him was a mirage at best, a nightmare at worst. The whole situation and the frustration of it all made him furious.

You were looking at him with a puzzled expression on your face and he realized you'd asked him something.

"It's...I don't know..." he mumbled, his head still whirling.

"You don't...know?" About us? you thought.

"I...don't know... it's...." he was trying to come up with the words to say but kept getting angrier and angrier. "Fucking hell" he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. And now you were certain you'd overdone it and put too much pressure on your relationship.

"It's fine, I'll take it off, I don't have to wear it" you said, turning to look for your discarded clothes as much to hide the tears in your eyes. You pulled your jeans on, pulled the jersey off and covered yourself with your sweater before he could register what was happening. He could sense the swift change in your mood but was still trying so hard to figure out his own feelings he was struggling to keep up.

"If you want to, you can—"

"—It's fine" you replied quickly, your voice wobbling. You were grabbing your things and walking out and Mattheo couldn't fathom what he had done wrong other than dream of a world where you could have his last name.

"Good luck" you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as you left.

What the fuck just happened he thought.

The wind whipped wildly through Mattheo's curls and he bobbed on his broom against the gusts, his eyes never leaving your seat in the stands no matter where he flew. The game whizzed around him and he was doing the bare minimum to contribute, his mind unable to focus on anything but your earlier conversation.

He had tried to catch your eye a few times but you seemed intent on avoiding his gaze, intent on focusing on the people around you and when you turned to talk to the girl behind you and he saw Malfoy's name on your back he nearly lost his grip and slipped off his broom.

Draco was like a brother to you, and you were seated next to his girlfriend Pansy in her own matching jersey, so it wasn't jealousy that reared its ugly head, but something much deeper, something possessive that simmered inside of him. That should be my name he thought as he gripped his broom so hard his knuckles turned white. She's fucking mine.

"Get your damn head in the game will you?" a teammate shouted as they flew by. But now the chances of that happening were even slimmer. You. His girlfriend. Wearing Malfoy's fucking name.

Mattheo seemed...off.

He was missing passes, dropping the quaffle, just generally out of it, which was completely uncharacteristic for one of Slytherin's star players. You didn't know for sure, but you couldn't help but feel like you were a contributing factor, that the conversation you'd had... or didn't really have earlier was to blame. You twiddled the rings on your fingers with anxiety and you began to feel guilt welling up when Mattheo suddenly dropped out of play, beelining towards the coaches and team staff gathered on the grass of the pitch.

"What the hell is he doing now?" Pansy huffed.

Mattheo was off his broom and storming towards a group of third years that helped the team by washing jerseys and mending brooms, and he grabbed one of them by the front of the robes so hard he nearly pulled him off his feet. He was shouting at him, telling him something, and the kid looked like he wanted to cry. He was nodding violently with every sentence Mattheo said before Mattheo turned and pointed to you.

At this point the entire stadium was murmuring and it had nothing to do with the game. People loved to watch Mattheo play on a regular day and now whispers were flying faster than broomsticks at the scene unfolding in front of the entire school.

The kid gave one last violent nod before running at a full sprint up into the stands, back towards the castle and Mattheo was back on his broom to a cacophony of cheers as he flew past you.

Your cheeks were flushed cherry red at the thought that he had stopped in the middle of his game to talk about you... surely that wasn't the case. Was it? The box around you was full of excited whispers and Pansy nudged you conspiratorially with raised eyebrows.

"I have no idea what's going" you hissed back, in an effort to keep things quiet.

Not ten minutes later, the whispers around you turned to murmurs again that got louder and louder until you turned to see the third year from earlier, nearly purple in the face from exertion tripping over himself and the people around him.

"M'looking for YN, YN, Riddle's girl?"

Riddle's girl.

The jersey on your back hadn't fooled a soul, they all pointed to you. He nearly collapsed at your feet, as he held up his hand, Mattheo's jersey fisted in his fingers as he huffed and puffed.

"Ma—Mattheo—Mattheo wants you to wear this. P-Please. Please put it on. Idon'twanthimtokillme, he said he would kill me if you didn't, I-I really think he meant it" he said through gasping breaths as his eyes watered.

Your hand covered your mouth to hide your smile.

"He is not going to kill you" you said reassuringly, as you let out a small laugh, the big bad Mattheo everyone was so afraid of so different than the boy you knew so well.

"But c-can you please put it on. Please. Just to be sure?" he whimpered.

You thought about his words as you ran your finger over the fabric of Mattheo's name. 'Mattheo wants you to wear this.' He had stopped in the middle of his match to make a kid go get it, you weren't going to say no. You pulled it on over your sweater, enjoying the lingering smell of him that now engulfed you as you blushed to yourself.

Mattheo was watching out of the corner of his eye as he dodged a bludger, and when he turned to see you wearing his name, a soft smile on your lips, he felt a calm settle over him, as something warm settled in his chest. Pride he realized after a moment. Pride for his last name, and pride for you in it.

Mattheo had turned the tide of the game scoring three goals and leading Slytherin to a victory. The crowd was buzzing with excitement as you bustled your way towards the locker room to wait for him. You could hear the team chanting and singing in celebration and you were ready to wait a long time for him to finally break away from his friends, but it was only minutes before he pushed through the door.

The crowd that had gathered cheered for him but he didn't respond, his eyes scanning the horde before they landed on you. He shoved a few people out of the way before the rest cleared a path for him and when he was finally in front of you, you couldn't help but glow at him, proud of the way he played and warm and fuzzy inside at all that he'd done for you.

"Babe—!" you started as he smiled at you, and then he grasped your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your lips inciting a loud round of shouts and cheers around you. He smelled like wet leather from his gloves, grass, dirt and sweat and yet it was intoxicating to you, because it was him. He let go of you only briefly enough to flip your onlookers the middle finger before he guided you quickly away from prying eyes.

"C'mon" he said.

"Oh! Okay—bye, Pansy" you said, waving at her as she winked at you.

Mattheo held you firmly at a fast pace until you were away from the crowd.

"Hey-hey slow down!" you said, pulling him to a stop. "...Thank you for that." Your eyes were wide and warm as they looked up at him. "I know it's silly, and maybe it felt a little too fast or too serious or something" you said, your words flying out as you tried to explain it. "I just—it's—I'm yours and I want people to know that. I'm proud of it."

He cleared his throat and looked around, trying to rearrange his face so as not to show the emotion that was welling up inside of him. Proud. You were proud. Of him, to be his. He looked back at you glowing up at him like a godsdamn angel and wondered what the fuck he ever did to deserve you.

"Told you it looked good on you" is all he could manage at first, and a warm smile lit your face, but you waited patiently, knowing there was more, knowing just how much his brain tended to work in overdrive.

"Look, my name, it's not...good... it's not something to be proud of. People hate it, fuck, I hate it—" he said as he ran his hand through his hair and avoided your gaze, never having come close to saying anything like this out loud before. He swallowed before he felt your hand slip into his and looked down at you. "—But seeing you in it?... I don't know... made me think...maybe it doesn't always have to be that way..."

Now you were trying to rearrange your face, biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

He searched your expression desperately, were those good tears, sad tears?

You slid your arms around him and hugged him to you, pressing your body against his and he relaxed into your arms.

"So, yeah, it's yours if you want it" he said, as he nuzzled into you, referring to the jersey, and his last name too...one day.

"Of course I do" you said adamantly.

He pulled back and captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply, passionately, sending your heart aflutter in your chest.

"Now I think you owe me my favorite part of my pre-match routine, Riddle" he whispered against your lips.

"Gladly" you whispered back against his lips.

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor x Reader

"The Morning After"

This started out as an idea for just a quick funny incorrect quotes and turned into a full-on one shot of fluffy nonesense. G/N reader, though they do wear make-up. No use of Y/N.

Still half asleep, you shifted from laying on your back to your side, facing the edge of the bed. The change in position suddenly made you more awake for two reasons; the pressure on your bladder and the odd green light burning through your eyelids.

You blinked your eyes, squinting for several seconds as your eyes adjusted to the light, and you realized you were looking at the pocket dimension bayou in Alastor’s room.

Alastor’s room.

ALASTOR’S ROOM.

Oh fuck.

You look over at the other side of the bed and see the unmistakable red and black hair, the two long fluffy ears, and little antlers. Markers of his identity that you had grown accustomed to in the years you had known him. What you weren’t used to was the ashen skin of his bare back and the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder as he slept soundly beside you, facing the opposite direction.

He was as naked under the sheets as you were.

Halfway between panicked and giddy with excitement, you recalled the wild night you two had indulged in the night before. The culmination of years of pining on your end – and recently acknowledged and understood feelings on his end – had led you to his bedroom for the very first time last night.

You just hoped it wasn’t something he would wake to regret.

That worry had to come later because right now your poor bladder was going to burst.

Slipping out from under the sheets, you tiptoed as quietly as you could across the floor and into the bathroom, making sure to not turn on the light until the door was softly closed behind you.

Ugghh, you hadn’t even cleaned yourself up before falling asleep. You and Alastor had gone so hot and heavy that once it was over, you both had just passed out, wrapped up in each other’s arms, so exhausted that not even the mess between your legs and the wet spots on the sheets could bother you.

Quickly and quietly, you relieved yourself and then wiped yourself clean, praying to Roo herself that you would get the chance to shower before any more intimate acts were shared between you and Alastor.

And then you flushed the toilet and winced at the insulting and loud noise it made. You forgot the plumbing in this piece of shit building let you know exactly who was showering or taking a piss from two stories above.

Two more things happened simultaneously that got your panic spiking again.

The light in the bedroom flipped on and you caught your reflection in the mirror.

You’re make up was a disaster.

You weren’t so vain as to have never let Alastor see you without it before. Honestly, he’d seen you with a natural and clean face more often than not but of course you had put on a near full face the night before and not cleaned it up before . . . before . . .

Fuck, you probably left lipstick and mascara all over those nice silk sheets he had summoned just before he’d laid you down on them.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Darling?” Alastor’s voice called for you and he sounded almost insecure and you would think about that later, later, how sweet that little hint of worry in his questioning was and how it meant he was hoping you weren’t regretting anything either and for fuck’s sakes you had patiently waited years to get that man’s dick inside you just for you to forget basic hygiene afterwards and now you had water proof raccoon eyes and lipstick smeared across your face like you were trying out to play the next Joker and what was left of your eyeshadow was in clumps that did nothing but accentuate every little wrinkle around your eyelids . . .

“I’m fine!” you say with a voice that was far too high pitched to be believable and you began searching through the bathroom drawers for a washrag or something to clean up your face. “Just cleaning up a little is all.”

He’d heard the toilet flush, heard the running of the bathroom sink, he had to have heard you rummaging through the drawers, frankly those beautiful ears of his could probably pick up on the sound of your heart racing like fucking Secretariat. And it was Alastor. He had zero sense of personal space and was likely going to barge in any second now-

You heard his soft chuckle as he opened the door and caught you desperately wiping at your face with a washrag and cold water, doing less to remove the makeup and more to just make an even more pathetic mess of colors across your stricken expression.

It didn’t help that you were still completely naked.

“My dearest, there are better ways to go about that.”

Frozen with embarrassment, you watched his reflection in the mirror as he walked behind you, though you wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, yours were glued to his equally nude body that he so confidently kept on display for you as he reached around you and opened a drawer, revealing a packet of make-up remover wipes.

He held one up for you and that’s when you finally looked up at him.

His ever-present smile was there, a touch sweeter and affectionate than usual, but the rest of his face looked as bad as yours. Red eyeshadow and black eyeliner had gotten everywhere and with the rather attractive sex hair he had going on, he looked more like a member of an 80’s rock band than he did The Radio Demon.

You couldn’t help the relieved laugh that escaped your lips.

“What, you thought all this was natural? Please,” he gave a dismissive wave of his hand and wrist and began cleaning up his own face.

The tension and nervousness melted away as you followed his lead and after getting yesterday’s make-up properly cleaned up, Alastor even summoned your toothbrush from your room for you to use. And none of it was awkward or weird, doing these normal, domestic things . . . in his bathroom . . . in the nude . . . with him there.

It should have been weird but instead it was unremarkably comfortable. Like it had been this way all along. A normal, mundane morning, in the best way possible.

“Join me for a shower?” he asked, with his hand held out.

There was a plethora of other questions left unsaid in his gaze.

Did you really not regret the night before?

Did you really want him? With all his violent inclinations and strange, often conflicting mannerisms and behaviors?

Were you really ready to commit yourself to the unpredictable life of The Radio Demon?

Offering him your best smile and your hand, you followed him into the steamiest, most invigorating shower of your life.

[snowsinterlude]

🐇 - rich, stupid, dumb girl and her nerd boyfriend.

(coriolanus snow x bimbo reader)

summary: you loved your boyfriend just too much not to let him edge you in public

c.w: in public, reader is a bimbo, edging, fingering (f. recieving), oral (m. recieving), overstimulation, a bit of praising, dom coryo, at school sex, smut, nsfw, humiliation, explicit content, slightly degrading

mascara running down your eyes, lipstick kisses on his hips, abdomen and neck, your boyfriend had his hand on your head as he frowned at the pleasure and the perfect sight of having you bobbing your head on his dick.

your boyfriend was such a cute nerd, always giving you the right answers to tests that you were too stupid to answer for yourself. always kissing your lips behind the books shelves. always putting you on your knees and letting his fingers open your mouth as you looked up at him, too whiny cause he tried to get you to understand something your stupid brain couldn't bare.

you were just another stupid brain dead girl who's head was good but not in the right ways- he loved the way you eagerly sucked on his dick, getting him coated in your saliva and kissing his tip as if it was the most precious thing of your life. it was just curious to see someone so dumb using it's inteligence to reproduction purposes. of course, both of you didn't mean to reproduct, but if you were to have a son or daughter, you had to pray that he/she would be just as pretty as you- but not as inteligent.

the soft grunts he let out of his mouth were the prettiest thing you could hear. no matter how many soap operas your father made you watch, the prettiest sounds were made by his throat.

you didn't have a gag reflex. every ex boyfriend you had usually would go nuts because of it. but coryo was different.

your sweet, precious, nerdy boyfriend, was bigger than your average-sized-dick exes. you didn't care- i mean, what is a bit of gagging when his dick is hitting the back of your throat? it was delicious having the chance to taste him.

that's why you were on your knees now, under the library desk as he read (or tried) to read the books in front of him. your mouth was too eager, you seemed hungry for him, pillow plump lips with smeared lipstick engulfing all you could of his inches, every single one could fit into your throat- fuck the gag reflex. you wanted him to the brim.

your thinking was delayed by his sweet words, the sweet tone of his voice cussing you for being so good at sucking a dick but being so horrible with mathematics.

"god, you're so pretty, doll. how can you be so hungry for dick?" he asked, and you moaned against his dick, incapable of giving him any proper answers. "keep going like that, okay? once i'll cum- fuck, we'll come back to studying."

"'don't wanna" you said, muffled by his cock.

"i didn't asked if you want, baby. you will." he said, pulling you by your hair to get you away from his dick. he kissed you, lips and tongue on yours. "now, sit by my side, okay?"

and you obeyed, pouting and trying to clean the lipstick stains off your lips.

his hand went to your thigh after he put his dick back inside his clothes. "c'mon, tell me. do you know the answer to that?" he pointed to a question on the book, something about maths. your worst grades were in this one class.

"i don't." you said, pouting. "c'mon, cory! let me make you cum." you begged, cleaning off the mascara stains now. "don't be such a meanie." you said, blinking your doe eyes.

"nope. answer at least one of those." and you tried, really. but then his fingers were on your damped panties going up and down your slick and you couldn't seem to think anymore. how mean of him.

"i-i don't know, coryo- stop that, if you keep on edgin' then i won't be capable of answerin'-" you slurred, almost crying from the way he was teasing you. he knew you couldn't answer things like that. not in that state.

"c'mon, doll. you know better than that." he said, and you melted almost right away.

"i don't. i swear!" you said, feeling him pull your panties to the side so he could have a better access to you.

"well, i guess you won't be cummin' today. what a shame." he said, thrusting his fingers slowly into you, curling them inside your tight cunt.

"please don't- coryoo, let me cum, please!" you begged, awkwardly bucking against his fingers only to end up mewling into his sudden kiss.

"i kissed you just because you're too loud. you know that the library doesn't permit such lewd actions of love as to kissing."

"you're f..fingering me."

"nuh-uh, i'm trying to teach you the basics of mathematics by pushing you to an edge." he said, kissing your cheek. "but if you're not answering, then maybe i should just stop."

he threatened to pull his fingers out of you, which didn’t happen due to your relentlessly bucking to his fingers. "n-no, i'll answer it! i will!-"

"then do it." he said, his thumb on your clit. "what is the second most read book in the world?"

"d...dom quixote?" you dared, mewling into his fingers, noticing how wet you were by the sounds your pussy was making on him. he gave you a proud smile, getting quicker with his fingers and promptly taking them off you when a teacher passed close by.

he sucked on those fingers, humming about how good you tasted. "such a sweet girl, it isn't even difficult to tell that you're the sweetest in taste too." he said, adjusting your pantiesnas you breathed heavily.

he's such a meanie. spent the whole day teasing you. fingering, grinding, humping, he didn’t got quiet until he accompanied you home, and now, your hands were on the wall as he pounded into you, making sure you felt every single inch of his dick inside you.

"c-cory, you'll let me cum, right? you spent the whole day- fuck! t-teasing me, edging me!" you slurred.

he nodded, kissing your neck. "promise i'll let you, doll. just keep yourself quiet. you don't want your parents to see what a slut you are, do you?"

"n-no, i don't!" you answered, holding all your moans by biting your bottom lip.

"princess," he called you "you don't need to stop moaning. just be good and less louder okay?" you nodded as an answer. the moans you let out after that, were soft grunts, hard to be held as he kept on pounding into you, even harder when his hand found your cunt again, his index on your clit.

"st-stop, coryo. it's gettin' harder to-" another moan, this time due to how he pinched your clit. "s-stop!"

"oh you want me to?"

"n-no, but-"

"no but's. you know you want it. tell me, doll. what do you want?"

"c-cum. want to cum." you begged. "please."

"hm,, i don't really want to end it right now." his pace became quicker; his lips on your shoulder and his words on your ear.

"please. just this once." you tried again, your cunt tightening around him as he pounded slowly inside you.

it was torturing. you could feel your core clenching, his dick throbbing inside you and still he didn’t want to make you cum. he was taking you over the edge.

with that in mind for the next reason you would fight with him, you trembledand squirmed when his dick kissed your uterus just the right way- when he hit the sweetest spots in your cunt that just him knew about.

you cried your eyes out, bucking against him and letting him bury himself into you- it was just too good not to let him do it. and then you were ready to cum all of your pent-up sexual teasing over his dick, and that's what you did, letting his cock be coated with your cum and moaning as you felt his cum going directly into you. rope after rope, spurt after spurt, you were filled up completely by his cum, and he quickly adjusted your panties in the right direction, kissing your temple.

"be a doll and sleep with those hm? full." he said, tapping your ass and kissing you goodbye.

being stupid with those thoughts of yours, you quickly forgot about what he said, and he knew, somehow- because on the next day he fucked you and stuffed his seed into you, he made sure to not let anything leak when he shoved your panties into you.

"don't forget about it this time." and he kissed you again, this time, you oveyed promptly and slept with his cum inside your cunt..

[luvelve]

˚ · . sweet blue - k. mingyu

summary: your husband’s not very good at asking for things, not even for a shave. but of course, he gets it either way.

pairing: husband!mingyu x afab!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warnings/tags: kissing, shaving, mentions of use of a blade

a/n: i took a long and unexpected break from writing and i’m happy to be back <3 this has been sitting in my drafts for sooooo long and i finally finished it today. the ending was kinda rushed but i wanted to publish it either way to kinda get myself out of this slump. as always, feedback & likes/reblogs are always welcome :)

the dark colored marble touches the front of your thighs as you inch closer, which surprises you but you try your best not to flinch because of the task at hand. at this moment, you feel like an artist, a sculptor if you will; carefully carving clay with utmost precision. except you’re not a sculptor, and you’re not carving clay. you’re in your bathroom giving your husband, mingyu, a shave.

this was new for the both of you, as mingyu always just shaved his incredibly slow growing mustache by himself. what started all this is him seeing you in your nightstand or in the bathroom doing your makeup and skincare, and he finds it all so amusing. he swears harps and violins play in the background when you’re in your own little world, dusting your cheeks with blush, taking your mascara off, or applying lip balm? lip… stick? lip…. whatever it is that you put on your lips, he thinks to himself. all he knows is that he can watch you do it all day. but he’s also left wondering, how it would feel to do what you do on him.

for some reason, mingyu isn’t able to muster up the courage to ask you straightforward to do his skincare, but he is able to ask you to be the one to shave him since he tells you its that time of the month where his mustache gotten too long for his liking. he comes up with the excuse of not doing the job well enough, and that his face gets all ‘itchy’ afterwards. which is all a lie of course, but it’s enough to convince you to do what he asks of you.

and so you find yourself in your shared bathroom at nine in the morning, standing in between your husband’s legs as he sits on the counter, both of your faces inches from each other. the room is silent but not eery, it’s a comfortable silence. mingyu had joyfully shown you the things he uses for his shaving routine: a cheap razor, shaving cream, some aftershave seokmin had recommended to him, and a towel.

“you really should get one of those good quality razors. not these disposable ones.” you scold mingyu softly, looking at him sternly with one hand resting on his head and the other holding the razor.

“but they’re expensive.” he extends the last syllable in protest, his reply a bit garbled as he tries his best not to move his mouth too much. you know mingyu well enough that he would be pouting at this moment, if only you weren’t shaving his upper lip.

you’re too focused on the task at hand that you don’t bother arguing with the giant sulky man in front of you. you continue making slow downward strokes using the razor, watching the hair slowly disappear. mingyu doesn’t have a lot of hair on his face like other guys but you take your time, making sure to get the job done right. it is, after all, your first time.

your husband watches as your lips contort out of focus; a habit of yours that he’s taken notice and grown fond of over the years. every now and then , you get rid of the hair and cream, swishing the razor in the sink that’s filled about halfway in water. mingyu feels nothing else but happiness and content in this very moment that he’s internally doing jumping jacks.

your resting hand shifts from his head and onto his cheek to get better leverage and mingyu just has to lean in to your touch. he relishes the feeling of your warm hand and then looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

“baby…” you raise your eyebrows at him, wondering what on earth he’s doing this for in the middle of a shave. mingyu doesn’t react to your words but instead shoots you a small derpy smile, and only you would know what he means.

if there’s one thing your husband is good at, it’s getting you to give him your love and attention without even saying anything. there are nights when mingyu comes home exhausted and all he has to do is stand there in your doorway, signalling to you that he wants to be in your embrace. or when you get up earlier than him and you find him just as he’s about to wake up; he’s buried in the sheets, hair all messy, just laying there, silently telling you that he wants a taste of your lips before his morning coffee.

and it’s the same thing he’s doing now. you let out a small sigh as you tilt your head a bit in fake annoyance before you lean in to connect your lips with his. it’s quick but it’s enough that mingyu lets out a hum of contentment. you pull back and he giggles as your lips catches some of the shaving cream, giving yourself a tiny little mustache.

“happy?” you quickly reply, and mingyu catches you to plant another kiss on your lips, placing his hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss a bit.

“very.” he says, as he swipes the pad of his thumb on your upper lip to get rid of the shaving cream he transferred onto you. his giggles bounce off the quiet walls of your bathroom.

“now can you sit still so i can finish this little bit that’s left?” you say to him, and he replies with a small nod and a sheepish smile, one that’s big enough that his canines show through. mingyu feels like a sixth grader who just kissed his crush. if the marble counter wasn’t in the way, he’d be kicking his feet.

you finish the small patch of hair that he has left and you proceed to put aftershave on him, assuming it is what you put after one shaves. you put a little bit on your hands and you’re thrown off by its strong musky scent. surely this can’t be good for his skin, you think to yourself.

“babe, you really use this stuff? i think this is way too strong for you.” you say with a worried look on your face. “well… seokmin told me it was good so i just used it too.” he replies.

“well yeah, it could be working for him but for you… i’m not too sure. i don’t know… i’m just worried.” you trail off, getting some tissue to rid your hands of the product and his eyes follow you around the bathroom while you do so. you shuffle back to stand in between mingyu’s legs, “i’ll go get something from my stuff instead.”

he watches as you momentarily leave the room to grab something from your vanity. he waits in the bathroom like a five year old waiting for his mom at the grocery counter. he hears the sound of your drawer open and close and it makes him chew at his lower lip in excitement.

“okay, this should do the job.” you say as you take the product onto your hands and pat it gently on your husband’s annoyingly smooth face. you make sure to cover all the parts that the blade has touched, and your head tilts left and right trying to make sure you didn’t miss any spot.

the way his eyes light up and follow your every move don’t go unnoticed by you. his hands make their way to rest on your hips again, squeezing every so gently as not to distract you.

“aaand, that’s the last bit of it.” you say, tightening the cap of your moisturizer and setting it down on the counter. mingyu internally pouts because the task is done, nonetheless he still props himself off the counter to take a look in the mirror.

“thank you, baby.” he says softly, shooting you a sweet smile as he turns to face you again. his arms snake around your waist to pull you in for a kiss and just when your noses touch, you pause. “you know… we still have a bit of time before we have to head out. why don’t we go back to bed for a little while?”

mingyu instantly picks up on what you’re trying to say and of course he jumps on the opportunity, “yeah?” he questions, and you nod as you wrap your arms around his neck. “well you know i can’t say not to that.” his smile reaching from one ear to the other. he leans down to attach his lips to yours as the both of you slowly walk backwards into your bedroom.

“oh, one more thing.” you mumble, momentarily breaking away from the kiss. “mhmm..” mingyu hums, and you feel it rumble in his chest. “i know you don’t get ‘itchy’ after you shave, it was just an excuse to get me to do it for you.” your tone is playful, and right then and there mingyu knows you’ve got him.

“what-huh? n-yes, i do!” your husband stutters, his ears turning red in embarrassment. “sweetheart, you really expect me to believe that? i know you like the back of my hand.” you reply. before mingyu is able to say anything else, you grab his arm and lead him out of your bedroom. “now let’s go, you owe me a yummy breakfast.”

[greg-montgomery]

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader ♡ (boyfriend’s dad!hotch) - 18+ minors dni

summary: part 2 to this.

your bf cheated on you? fuck his dad!

cw: uhmm a little bit of choking? age gap.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Put your phone away.”

Mark stared at his father for a moment without even lifting his head, and then continued to type on his phone.

“You’re being rude,” Aaron said.

“What’s your problem?”

“Your brother has been talking about this dinner all week. When Jack sits at the table, that thing better not be in your hands. Understood?”

“Understood,” Mark said, and placed the phone right next to his plate harsh enough to make Aaron wonder if the screen cracked.

Despite his annoyed appearance, Mark kept his promise and stayed engaged in the conversation with Jack. His little brother admired him and Aaron would do anything to protect his son’s feelings - even from someone who shared the same blood as him.

Still, Aaron had no complaints; Jack seemed happy and that was more than he could have asked for.

Sadly his feelings quickly changed, when after dinner he accidently overheard Mark talking on the phone. Aaron was a profiler, but any regular person could easily understand he was flirting with a girl. The only problem though, was that the name he had called said girl, was not yours.

--

Mark made his way outside the kitchen only to be stopped by his dad with a hand on his chest.

“Who were you talking to?”

“What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Who were you talking to?” Aaron repeated, determined not to give him an easy way out.

Mark raised his eyebrow at him. “Don’t you think I’m a little too old to be asked questions like this by my dad?”

“Are you cheating on Y/N?”

“Why are you so fucking obsessed with her?” he snapped. “Why do you even care?”

“I didn’t raise a cheater.”

“No, you don’t give a fuck about me. It’s her you care about.” He smirked, and Aaron was worried his next words would be exactly what he was afraid of.

Mark confirmed his fears. “You think I don’t see the way you look at her? You wanna fuck my girlfriend and then be the one who teaches me about ethics?”

Aaron stood there frozen watching him walk away, too stunned to stop Mark from leaving without saying good night to his little brother.

--

Ethics.

His son was right. There was nothing ethical about the way he looked at you. There was nothing ethical about the way he wanted to steal you from Mark. And there was definitely nothing ethical about the way he had fucked his fist in the shower to the thought of you that same night you had asked for his help.

But Mark didn’t treat you right, he knew that. You deserved better and Aaron could be that for you.

He’d hold you in his arms, keep you safe from the rest of the world, let you know how beautiful and precious you were. Then he’d sit you in all fours and take you until you forgot your own name.

--

“This is so wrong,” you sighed, rolling your hips forward and the word ‘wrong’ went straight to his dick.

“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby,” he said staring at your lips and you leaned in to kiss his open mouth.

How did he get there? In any empty parking lot, and his son’s girlfriend riding his cock?

- -

It all started with a sweet “Mr. Hotchner?” when he picked up his phone in the middle of the night.

Then those two beautiful eyes he’d do anything for, looking at him like he was their hero.

“You said you’ll always be here. That’s why I called you,” you said when you were inside his car. Your cheeks were smudged with mascara and he wanted to murder the reason behind your tears. Only the reason was of course no other than his own son.

“You did well, sweetheart.” He cupped your cheek rubbing it with his thumb, and you nuzzled his hand. “You can trust me.”

“I do.”

It was impossible for him to keep his hands away or not to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

“It’s over,” you sniffled. “This is the second time he cheats on me. I’ve had enough.”

“He never deserved you, honey. I’m sorry he hurt you.”

“Don’t be. You’re nothing like him,” you whispered. “How are you two even related?”

Your hand found his and your fingers naturally intertwined.

The kisses on your forehead soon turned into kisses on your cheeks and then on the corners of your mouth. He couldn’t stop and the way you were trembling against him was an invitation to touch you more.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered against the skin of your neck and you pulled his hair softly. He shouldn’t be doing that, but he’d rather take his last breath at that moment than let you go.

“I know. But I need you so bad,” you whined.

“Take off your panties and come to my lap.”

Aaron watched the fabric move all the way down your legs and pulled you into his lap. Before he had the chance to lift up your dress, you started rubbing yourself against him. He took your chin between his fingers and made you look at him. “Aren’t you a desperate little thing?”

“I wanted you to fuck me from the day we met.”

“I know.”

The feeling of your wet pussy against his slacks and the sound of your little moans drove him crazy. He bit your right nipple through your dress and you finally called him ‘Aaron’.

“Say my name again.”

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron,” you moaned, moving desperately against him.

“Baby, I need to be inside you,” he said.

Once he was buried in you, his hands went on your hips, guiding you, showing you the pace he needed you at.

You were so good; such a good learner.

“This is so wrong.”

“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby.”

You leaned in to kiss him and Aaron took the opportunity to wrap his hand around your neck. He noticed you failing to bite back a loud moan.

“You like that, huh?”

“Mhm…”

“Want me to rub your little clit too? Will that make you cum faster, sweetie?”

“Fuck, yes.”

He did as promised, moving his free hand between your legs, touching you softly and slowly. He loved the tortured expression on your face.

“Faster, please,” you begged him.

“You’re so fucking desperate,” he moaned, and picked up his pace.

It didn’t take much longer for you to cum, and he followed right after you.

You didn’t leave his lap. Aaron wrapped his arms around you protectively and pulled you so close to him, it was hard to tell where his body ended and yours started.

“What now?” you whispered, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

“Now you’re mine.”

tags : @hotchhner @sabage101 @yurfavmommy @mrs-ssa-hotch @justarandommom @m4gn3ziu @rosaliedepp @indigosamsblog

[maybankswhore]

WHEN YOU KNOW , YOU KNOW.

summary. rafe realizing you’re it for him.

warnings. none.

“ when you know , you know. when you know , you know. it kinda makes me laugh — running down that path. when you’re good it’s gold. ”

Rafe’s head felt heavy. Your hands delicately worked at him. The only sound heard was the humming coming from the wind that whipped the side of his home furiously , demanding for you to hear it.

There were a million things Rafe Cameron could feel at one time. He was a master at anger— stowing away all that sadness , all that pain with flying fist and a mouth that could bite with words. He was a master at manipulation , at cruelty.

Though what he hardly ever felt was guilt. Sadness. Regret.

As he sat with his head low , he replayed the events that were still fresh in his mind. It seemed as though all he saw was red when Ward’s attention turned towards her. Scowling. Mocking.

He couldn’t stand it.

Rafe respected his father. Loved him. Craved his attention and validation. He could take whatever verbal abuse was given to him and swallow it , digest it and shit it back out because he was used to it.

But you— he could never allow that to happen to you , for that to be your future. As soon as the shameful comment left his mouth Rafe knew that he had to correct it despite what the consequences would be. If he didn’t , it’d happen again. Harsher. And after that , again. It’d happen like a replayed message over and over.

You were too good. There was an aura about you that was kind. There was so much about you to uplift and worship like the way your hair fell out of your ponytail when you worked. How it framed your face and helped the apple of your cheeks stand out more. Or when you’d always hold the door open for anyone , no matter who it was. Always giving the kindest smiles to strangers , making friends with just about anyone you came across because that’s how beautiful and inviting your soul was.

“You’re staring.” He heard you murmur.

Finally your head had lifted to look up at him. Your eyelashes coated with mascara that was now fading. Eyes like crystals.

“No.” Rafe shook his head. “Thinking.”

His response made you frown. Ward was always a sore spot for Rafe. He didn’t talk about him much or the weight the relationship held , but you knew. You didn’t need to be told.

“I’m sorry.” Shame overcame you. The whole fight that ensued had been because of you and although you knew Rafe would never place that blame on you— you put it on yourself.

Your apology caused Rafe’s head to snap towards you. Eyes focused on your face as he reached out to grab ahold of your chin gently. Your eyes swirled in the color of his as you made eye contact with him. Somehow the feeling of his ring cladded fingers on your skin still made your cheeks tinge pink.

“Do not apologize for that asshole—” Rafe cursed. “You hear me? Never apologize for something that wasn’t your fault.”

His voice was soft but it was stern. It was genuine and kind— something that was a rarity for him. Something that only you got to experience.

You couldn’t help the sigh escaping from your mouth. You practically melted at his touch , falling into the palm of his hands.

“I don’t want to be the reason you and your dad fight.” You admitted. That knawing guilt back in the pit of your stomach.

You sounded so small. So sweet. It made an unfamiliar ache in Rafe’s chest— one that wasn’t bad , but more so yearning. Yearning to lean forward and kiss you. Wrap his arms around you and suffocate himself with the smell of your perfume.

“I don’t care.” Rafe then decided. “I love you.”

You sucked in a breath that resembled a gasp almost. Those three words that you had held onto. The three words that held so much but yet so little because you had felt it , too.

You weren’t oblivious and you knew that he did. But you hadn’t expected to hear it.

It was everything and nothing all at once. Peaceful and nerve racking at the same time. It meant so much. Left so many things in the future to worry about and mewl over.

You were a lover girl at heart. The way he had spoke it. His lips that were always snarling , biting back the cruel comments to others to hide the fact he was hurting inside had now released the sweetest of sounds , kindest words that squeezed the beating organ in your chest just right.

Bubbling , Rafe brought his hand around your neck to lean you forward. Brushing a kiss to your mouth , resting his forehead on yours.

He knew that you were it for him. And if souls could get tangled with one another and become the same— then his had with you.

[freshxsturniolo]

JULY 4TH PT3 - chris sturniolo x reader

pt1 pt2

you pull up outside the triplets house later than evening, admittedly feeling a lot fresher than you had this morning. after your first initial texts with chris, you ended up falling asleep for another hour or so before being awoken by jake, who was begging you and tara to help him clean their apartment. you reluctantly got out of bed, but after a coffee (or two), you felt the movment had helped you come alive slightly, but in and out was still the only thing you wanted to eat after nibbling on a slice of toast all day.

keeping your date a secret however, you should have known was not going to happen. when you annoyed your departure from the three boys house finally, you were met by a load of stares. in their hungover states they were all planning on watching movies and order takeout, so you had no choice but to tell them.

"im meeting a friend" you had said when jake had given you an eye. you notice the smirk from your best friend tara as the words leave your mouth but you do your best to avoid eye contact, but a smirk comes over jakes face immediately.

"his name chris by any chance?" he says.

you eyes divert to tara immediately, and she holds her hands up in surrender. "dont look at me" she laughs, and you cant help but chuckle as you turn around to leave, knowing that tara would likely fill the 3 boys in, but as you leave you're only met with a chorus of claps and woops.

"so annoying" you mutter, which they hear as they all erupt into laughter.

you spend the next hour at your own place, panicking about what to wear. you're dying to text chris but the lack of communication since your earlier messages felt exciting, making you giddy almost. so you settle for a comfortable pair of shorts with a baggy tee, your favourite earrings and a small subtle amount of make up with some lip gloss. giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you smile before putting your converse on and head to your car.

so now you sit here, waiting for chris to emerge from his house, you lean across to look in the mirror and apply another layer of lipgloss just to keep yourself busy before you drum your fingers across your steering wheel, turning up the song you were playing through the bluetooth before you finally see him walking down the driveway.

you smile as you take in him in. sweatpants and a black tee, casual but somehow cool, hair so clearly freshly washed. his stubble from yesterday now gone. and he gives you a smirk as soon as he sees you looking, but you already feel so comfortable in his presence so smirk back, causing him to laugh and shake his head. when he finally gets to your passenger side and open the door, you bend your head to see it.

“your carriage awaits. in and out was it?”

he ignores you, gets in the car, shuts the door, and then finally swivels his head to look at you.

“you’re worse than matt. and i’ve been in the car 3 seconds”

you laugh, throwing your head back causing a chuckle to escape his lips.

“sorry” you say, looking towards him again. “i couldn’t resist. but seriously, in and out?”

“i’m starving” he mutters, and you nod in agreement with a smile on your face, putting the car back in drive and setting off down the street.

the nearest in and out is only a 5 minute drive away, and you spend those 5 minutes chatting about the night before. laughing about certain moments you had forgotten about till he has bought them up. by the time you pull up for food, your stomach hurts from laughing and your fear your mascara has likely leaked down your face. turning off the ignition, you lean to look into the rear view mirror to double check, and you become aware how dangerously close you are to chris. he’s quite as you wipe at your under eyes, and when you finally move back to your original position and turn to him, he’s smiling.

“you’re beautiful, ya know?”

“chris” you laugh, suddenly feeling flustered, your cheeks going a tinge of red.

he smiles as he looks at you, before looking out towards the restaurant. it’s busy, you notice. the line is long and there’s people sat on almost every table. even from sitting in your car and looking through the window you can hear the hustle and bustle, people likely in the same hungover state as you.

“i got an idea” chris says, and you snap your head back to look at him.

“go on?”

he looks back at the resturant one more time, before looking to you again.

“why don’t we get it to take out, and come back to mine? we can eat on the sofa, we can watch a movie …”

your hearts racing at the thought. truthfully, a night in sounded a lot better than sitting in a stuffy burger place and you tried to keep calm as you answered him.

“will you brothers mind?”

chris smiles. “they’re not in.”

you look at him for a second, his plump lips all of a sudden looking super inviting, but you smile.

“okay.”

“yeah?”

“yeah” you smile.

“perfect. come on” he says now, opening up the car door and stepping outside.

you follow his actions, grabbing your phone and keys and stepping outside, locking the car and putting all your belongings in your pocket before you walk around the car to meet chris who’s waiting for you on the sidewalk. when you reach him you smile, and you realise in that moment you had never formally even said hello, so you smirk.

“hi” you say, and his eyes divert straight to your lips.

“hi” he mutters, and that force is back. you can feel it, he can feel it, and then he finally takes a step towards you.

“this is possibly the least romantic place in the world, but can i kiss you?” he whispers, and you let out a laugh as you step closer to him too.

“you don’t even need to ask” you whisper back, and it takes him no time at all to press his lips to yours. soft, gentle, just a peck that lingers for a couple of seconds before he pulls away again. you can feel your heart beat racing as you look back into his eyes, before a laugh escapes you both.

suddenly, your appetite for food is completely gone and been replaced by something else.

TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART NINE

previous chapters | welp. hey everybody, it's been a little while since this updated, huh? those who follow me will know i haven't been having the best time lately and had to put this fic on hold for a little bit. but finally an update is here, and i'm so excited to share it with you. thank you so much for being so patient and lovely. i also wanna give a huge shoutout to han @swiftispunk who's been there for me relentlessly throughout this rough period and who kept encouraging me whenever i thought this would never get written. i couldn't ask for a better writing buddy & friend, ilysm. i hope you guys like this chapter and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: joel is taking you away for the weekend, which only means one thing: your v card is going bye-bye. rating: 18+ explicit warnings for this chapter: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, tummy bulge, oral (f receiving), catholic guilt, panic attacks, phone sex, mutual masturbation, lap sitting, lingerie, fingering, there is so much goin on pls lmk if i forgot smth word count: 25k (what the fuck) ao3

It's crazy how one weekend can change everything.

After days of feeling like shit and wanting - or forcing yourself to want - absolutely nothing to do with Joel anymore, you'd wound up naked in bed together. An ironic twist to the men ain't shit mantra you and Tasha had been trying to live by for the past forty eight hours. You'd laid with your head on his chest, exhausted and sated, listening to his and your own equally haggard breathing slow to a quiet thrum of background noise. You'd kissed the spot above his nipple, soft and warm against your lips as he carded his fingers through your hair and peppered kisses all along the crown of your head.

"So you're taking me away, huh?" you'd asked him in the heavenly afterglow of your orgasms, still tangled together under the sheets.

He'd smiled sleepily, squeezed you tighter in his arms and pulled you in as close as he could, "I'm takin' you away," he'd promised quietly, "Just you n' me. Gonna make this right."

Unbeknownst to him, everything had already become right again the moment he'd walked through the bedroom door.

Tasha had come back about an hour after you'd finished, roused you both from a quick nap by knocking quietly at the door and saying, "Hate to bother you guys but we gotta be out of here by four and the place is a disaster." Looking down at the mascara stained pillowcase beneath your head, you'd known she was right.

A few hours later you'd stood at the airport once again, arms wrapped tightly around Tasha as you buried your face in her shoulder and thanked her over and over again for everything; for being there, for listening, for understanding, for texting Joel, everything.

"You're gonna make me cry," she'd mumbled in your ear, hugging you back just as tightly, "Please, I just did what a good friend does."

You'd hoped she knew that she's the first good friend you've ever had.

Just before she'd headed to her gate, she'd pulled something out of her purse and handed it to you discreetly, palm down. You'd glanced downward to see a little blue package, thin and rectangular.

"Start taking these tonight," she'd said softly, "Take one every day at the same time. Promise me."

"What is it?"

She'd rolled her eyes, "Oh, you sweet summer child."

--

You know what birth control is. You're not that clueless. You just.... haven't really seen it before.

Now, having a pack of it in your possession, in your bedroom of all places, hidden in one of your dresser drawers beneath socks and underwear... it somehow feels more scandalous than the bikini. More scandalous than Joel's flannel beneath your mattress. More scandalous than those short little dresses folded in a bag in the back of your closet.

Birth control means sex. If your parents found your clothing purchases or Joel's flannel you could probably get away with some kind of lie, an excuse. But if they found this.... you don't even want to think about what would happen.

Take one every day at the same time. Promise me.

You pop out a pill quickly before shoving the package back into your dresser, then hurry to the bathroom with it tucked in your palm, clasped tightly between your fingers. You take it quickly with a handful of water and then stare at your reflection in the mirror for a moment, eyes bright. You're expecting to feel an ounce of shame, some guilt creeping in - but you don't. Instead, you find yourself smiling, face going hot when you think about the reason why you're taking these in the first place.

"Dinner's ready!" you hear your mom call from downstairs, and you yank yourself away from the bathroom mirror before your thoughts can get any more X rated.

She hadn't said anything to you when you got home, but then again you hadn't really given her a chance to. Now you shuffle into the kitchen and take a seat at the table, eyeing her quietly and wondering if the silent treatment is over. Your father comes in from the living room before you can find out, taking his usual seat and giving you a stern look.

"I heard you spent the weekend with one of your college friends," he states.

You stare at him for a second, unsure what to really say. You settle for a shrug, "Uh, yeah. Just had a girls' weekend at an Airbnb."

"I'm just curious why you're making time for friends you'll be seeing again in September when there are people here you've barely even said hello to," he raises an eyebrow, squaring his shoulders, "You said the other week you'd be volunteering again, didn't you? Doing more things to better yourself?"

"Well, I helped out at Sunday School," you offer with a grimace, but you already know it's not enough.

"I'm not talking about helping out here and there every now and then," he shakes his head and eyes your mother as she walks over with two plates of dinner, places them in front of the both of you without making eye contact, "You need a weekly activity, something steady, right dear?"

Your mother's gaze flits to yours quickly as he says this and you know exactly what she's thinking without her having to say it: do not mention the guitar lessons. But what the fuck are you supposed to say? You get that she doesn't want your father knowing until your little "plan" has bore a little more fruit, but it isn't fair that he still thinks you need some kind of weekly activity to attend when you already have one. Or, at least, a cover for one.

Maybe your mother can solve this problem for you.

"Well, actually-" you begin, only bluffing, but she bangs the water jug on the table before you can continue.

"I'll work on it with her, don't worry," she says quickly, shaking her head at you as discreetly as she can, "We'll figure something out together."

As usual, your father is oblivious to anything amiss. He just nods and extends his hands to start the prayer, "Sounds good."

Dinner is the usual boring affair, barely any conversation to be had as your father scarfs it down and heads to his office, leaving you and your mother sitting at the table in silence. You poke absentmindedly at your broccoli, thinking about Joel - he wants to see you again tonight, maybe talk about some stuff, and you're not really sure how to feel about it yet; you want to know more about his ex wife, his daughter, want to understand him and his life a little better, but it also scares you a bit. Hearing about his relationship with another woman - a woman who clearly still has a prominent position in his life - it's gonna be a lot to take in.

He also wants to talk about taking you away - a much less scary thought.

"So, you had a good weekend?" your mom asks quietly, and you look up in surprise - you'd thought the silent treatment was still ongoing.

"Yeah, it was nice," you reply - simplistic and not a very true answer, but it's not like you can tell her about anything that happened.

"What did you do?"

You shrug again, "Just watched movies and hung out, talked about how our summers have been going," you take a bite of broccoli and hope she won't press it any further.

"Did you go to your lesson on Saturday?"

You nod quickly, swallowing and doing your best to keep eye contact, "Yep, I learned some new chords." Bullshit. "Mr. Miller is a really good teacher." Less bullshit.

She doesn't say anything else right away and you manage to completely finish your meal before she drops her fork and turns to you with a sigh. "I know what you're thinking and no, I still haven't told your father about it. I already explained why-"

"Because you don't want him getting involved before I've made progress, I know."

"So have you? Been making progress?"

Oh, the things you could say in response to that question. "I think I have. He's, um... he's been very interested in the hymns."

"Which ones are you learning?"

Oh fuck.

"It's a surprise," you say quickly, flashing her a fake smile, "Don't wanna jinx it, ya know?"

Her brows furrow but she doesn't question it, nodding slowly and taking a deep breath as she grabs both your plates and walks to the sink. You sit there for a moment, not wanting to get up until you know for sure the conversation is over.

"So it's working, you think?" she finally asks, turning on the tap and rinsing the dishes, "You're helpin' him?"

You swallow, thankful she's not looking at you as your hands ball into fists against the wood of the table, "Yes," you lie quietly, "Definitely."

--

"You need to teach me a hymn," is the first thing you say to Joel that night as you walk through his front door, passing right by him without so much as a hug, "Or two. Two hymns, maybe three, I don't know."

"Hello to you too," he says with a chuckle, shutting the door and walking over to you to wrap his arms around you from behind, "S'wrong? You alright?"

You have to admit, being wrapped in his arms certainly does make the anxiety ebb away. You close your eyes and lean back into his grasp, sighing deeply and trying to ground yourself as best you can. Ever since that conversation with your mother you feel like your brain has been working on overdrive, reminding you over and over that you're so fucking behind on what you're meant to be doing to keep this façade intact.

"I'm just stressed," you mutter, "My mom asked about the lessons and I didn't know what to say and now I'm all up in my own head again as usual."

You feel him tuck his head against your shoulder, squeeze you tighter, "Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, breath so warm against your ear it makes you shiver, "We'll find a couple easy ones and I'll teach you. You can borrow my guitar too, practice at home."

"My dad still doesn't know," you sigh, "She's waiting for me to have some sort of breakthrough with you to tell him."

He snorts, "And what exactly does this 'breakthrough' look like?"

"I don't know, a pool of golden light? Heavenly angels singing praise?"

He chuckles against your skin, pressing a kiss there, "Well, that'll be easy. That happens every time I make you come."

You feel your cheeks bloom with heat, lips tightening into a bashful smile as he pulls you in closer and noses your ear once again, scruff tickling the skin there. You hum contentedly, pretending for a moment that your parents aren't involved on the sidelines of this relationship, that their opinions don't matter and there doesn't need to be any sort of ulterior reason for your being here - then you remember that you're going to have a whole weekend to pretend that's the case, and you smile wider.

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his torso and peering up at him. He's so handsome as usual, hair messy, eyes brown and deep. It's impossible not to lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips, so of course you do, eyes closing as you melt against his mouth. He kisses you back just as soft, rubs your back gently as he holds you close.

"I'm so sorry, angel," he murmurs quietly against your lips, and you find yourself pulling away to look at him in confusion.

"For what?"

He shakes his head, eyes sad, "For everythin' I put you through this weekend, all that added stress," you go to interrupt but he brings one of his hands up to gently press his finger to your lips, stopping you, "Don't tell me not to apologize. I did wrong by you. I wanna fix it."

You swallow, remembering the woman at the bar - his ex wife, remembering the way he'd smiled before he kissed her, the way those soft brown eyes looking at you right now had looked directly into hers as well...

Your stomach twists uncomfortably.

"I meant what I said, about tellin' you everything," he murmurs, "I want... I want you to know me, ya know? I..." he breathes deeply, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours, "God, I'm not good at this."

"Good at what?" you whisper, and you feel him shrug in your embrace.

"Just.... bein' open."

You pull back a bit to peer at him again, feeling your stomach unclench when you see that unsure look on his face, the worry lines prominent on his forehead and those plump lips downturned into a frown. He's still afraid he's lost you, you can tell.

"Well, I wanna hear what you have to say," you murmur, "I do wanna learn more about you. But it's okay, Joel. I'm not heartbroken, not anymore."

He winces at your words, "But you were," he closes his eyes again, "You were heartbroken, baby. I hurt you. We... she -" he cuts himself off to sigh, "She didn't know about you when she kissed me, alright? I hadn't told her, and that's on me."

Oh. You didn't know that.

"Why... why didn't you tell her?"

"Because I was a coward," he says immediately, "I didn't... I wasn't..." he takes another deep breath and pulls away from you, unlocking himself from your embrace to grip your arms in both his hands, "Okay," he breathes, "I'm really bad at this, darlin', forgive me if it comes out weird."

You're not sure what he's about to say but you can feel your heart beginning to beat faster in your chest as he stands there looking at you, brow furrowed as if he's completely out of his element, and you suppose he is.

"I haven't... god, I don't wanna scare you but..." he chews his lip for a moment, lost in thought, "I just... I meant it, when I said that I think about you all the time. I really, really meant it."

You stare at him for a moment, processing his words. What is he saying? That he didn't tell his ex wife about you because of how much he thinks about you? How does that make sense? You silently curse yourself for your naivety, your inexperience with relationships. You're sure if Tasha was here she'd be able to tell you exactly what he means.

You're about to ask him to elaborate when you suddenly catch a glimpse of something on the mantel of the fireplace, something that you can't recall ever seeing before. Your eyes go slightly wide and he notices immediately, following your gaze.

"Oh," he says quietly, "Um, yeah, I... I put up some pictures."

His grip on your arms releases when he realizes you want to get a closer look. You make your way over to the fireplace with careful steps, eyeing the framed photograph in front of you as it slowly comes more into focus.

It's Joel - a much younger Joel. You're not sure how young, but there are no signs of age on his face, skin smooth and bare and hair trimmed neatly beneath a baseball cap. He's standing behind a swing, pushing an adorable little toddler in front of him, a big smile on her face as she kicks her chubby legs high into the air.

You stare at it for a long time without saying anything, warmth bursting through your chest the longer your gaze flicks from him to the baby, the baby to him. There's something in her brown eyes, something recognizable, and you realize it's because they're his eyes.

You're looking at his daughter.

"What's her name?" you finally ask, voice soft.

"Sarah," he replies - he sounds close behind you but he doesn't touch you, doesn't make any move to embrace you again, just lets you absorb the information in your own time.

"Sarah," you repeat quietly, thoughtfully, "How old is she there?"

"Few days before her second birthday," he says, and you swear you can hear the hint of a smile in his voice, "Installed that swing set in the backyard for her as a present, but I couldn't wait 'til her birthday to show her - I was too excited."

You smile at his words, feeling fondness flood your thoughts as your gaze falls back to the much younger Joel. He looks a little like the boys you've seen at college, extremely handsome but inexperienced, naïve, maybe even a little lost... kind of like you. You squint your eyes a bit, as if staring at him will help you figure out exactly how old he is.

"I'm twenty in that one," he answers for you.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you finally turn around to look at him, a look of shock prominent on your face. "But... that would mean you had her -"

"When I was eighteen, yeah," he gives you a wistful half smile, "Remember that 'trouble' I told you I got in right outta high school? The mysterious thing I did that got me disowned?" he gestures toward the photo with a light chuckle, "Well, there she is. Little Miss Trouble, Sarah Miller."

Your brow furrows. You remember what he'd said on his back deck that day, the way he'd stopped himself from revealing too much. He'd been so close to telling you, and yet...

"Why didn't you just tell me then?" you ask softly, "That day in your backyard, you... you coulda told me about her."

His smile fades into a frown, eyes going downcast, "I was afraid," he admits softly, "I didn't... I didn't want this to end so soon. I didn't wanna scare you off."

You feel a pang in your heart, a sensation of sadness that bubbles up within you as you peer at his melancholic expression, the shame in his eyes. He really thinks you're five seconds away from running out the door, leaving his life for good and forgetting this whole thing between the two of you even happened. You can see it in his expression, the way he's standing like he's small, the same way he'd looked last night when Tasha had tugged you out of his house and into a cab.

You make your way toward him, palm outstretched as you reach up and press it to the side of his face. His gaze comes up to meet yours, watery and sad and - god, he's beautiful. So, so beautiful.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whisper honestly, shaking your head and smiling softly, "Not before you teach me at least two hymns."

His frown breaks into a grin and he rolls his eyes, the tears spilling over a little bit as he sniffs and tries to pull himself together. You just bring your other hand up to fully cup his face, turning his head so he's looking directly into your eyes.

"I mean it, Joel," you breathe, and you think you're starting to understand what he meant, "You say you think about me all the time, but... I think about you all the time. I can't stop thinking about you," your voice quivers a bit and you feel tears begin to sting in your own eyes, "Even when I was trying to force myself not to think about you, I couldn't do it."

You thumb his cheeks lightly, feeling them tighten under your palms as he smiles again. You can't help but lean forward to brush your nose against his, closing your eyes.

"I think... I don't know, I just feel like-"

"I know," he interjects softly, "I feel it too, angel. Scares the hell outta me, doesn't even seem possible to feel it after such a short length of time, but I do."

You open your eyes to peer at him again, "Is that why you didn't tell her? 'Cause you were scared of how you feel?"

"Yes," he murmurs, "I knew if I told her... if I let myself really feel what I've been feelin'... I'd have to face the fact that I'd been dishonest with you, that I hadn't been showin' you my true self, ya know? And that's... that's always been hard for me." He takes a breath, "She was real sad that night. She... she was comin' on strong, cause she really needed somebody. And I almost gave myself to her, you should know that. I don't wanna lie to you."

It hurts to hear it, but at the same time you're glad he's telling you, glad he feels safe to express himself the same way you do with him.

"We weren't... we weren't official or anything," you mumble, eyes casting downward.

"No, we weren't," he agrees softly, "But it still wouldn't've been right, angel, not for you and not for me. I didn't want it, I just... I just felt for her, ya know? We've been doin' this thing so long, it can be hard to say no, especially when it's someone you care about."

"But you did."

He nods, "I did. And then I told her about you and she understood."

You peer up at him again, unsure, "She understood? Really?"

He smiles, "She understood, sweetheart. She's a good person, I promise. But I also promise that I don't feel things for her the way I used to, not anymore. And our arrangement is over." He blinks away a few tears, locking his eyes with yours again, "Do you believe me?"

You nod slowly, taking in his words. You find that you do believe him, don't even question a word of what he's saying to you. It should probably scare you to trust him this much, to wholeheartedly sense nothing but earnestness from his demeanor and words, but it doesn't. It feels good to hear him say these things and to know that he means it, that he's finally being himself.

"So who are you then, really?" you ask softly, "Who's this whole other Joel Miller I've been missing out on?"

He laughs lightly, bumping his nose against yours, "Well, darlin'... he's old and he's boring, keeps to himself, works too much..." he takes a breath, then meets your gaze again, eyes soft and tender, "And he's fuckin' crazy about you."

His words embed themselves into your brain almost immediately, sending tingles up and down your spine as your arms come up to wrap around him and pull him into a kiss. He seems surprised by your response but only for a moment, then wraps his own arms around you and pulls you in as close as he can, cradles you as he kisses you back with that familiar warmth and safety you've always felt with him.

He's fuckin' crazy about you.

You find yourself moving the two of you toward the couch and he lets you, your legs tangling together as you shuffle over to it. You slowly settle onto it together, him sitting pretty beneath you while you situate yourself in his lap, a leg on either side of his thighs. You don't stop kissing him, whimpering softly into his mouth when his hand stills firmly on your back, holding you close.

"What're you doin', babygirl?" he breathes against your lips, voice dark and husky - he already knows the answer.

You don't reply, just deepen the kiss and grind yourself down into his crotch, feeling his already half hard cock press against you through your shorts. You whimper again, pulling back to look at him through lidded eyes.

"Huh?" he asks softly, his own eyes already dark and unfocused, "What're you doin', sweetheart? What d'you need?" He bucks his hips up with his words and you gasp, clinging to him tightly and resting your head on his shoulder. "Need my cock, don't you, baby?"

You nod even though he can't see you, close your eyes and whisper, "I need it so bad."

"Need it deep inside, huh?"

You swallow and shiver, grinding down against him again in response. He holds you firm in his lap and brings his lips to your ear, trails his fingers up and down your back.

"I'm gonna give it to you, baby, I promise," he murmurs, voice gravelly and low, "Gonna fill you up so good, have you cryin' on it."

You whimper again, squeezing your eyes tighter and imagining how it'll feel to have his enormous size spreading your insides, pushing into the deepest parts of you. It's almost too much to bear, too much to imagine as you whine into his shoulder. You want it now, but you also know that now isn't the right time.

"I- I started taking birth control," you whisper, clinging to him tighter.

He seems to freeze beneath you for a moment, and then his hands move down to squeeze your ass, drag you slowly down the length of him - now fully hard - as you whine again.

"Good girl," he whispers, pinning you to his cock through his jeans, "That's- fuck, you're such a good girl."

You keen at his praise, whimpering into his shoulder as he drags you back and forth along his cock, the denim rough against your bare thighs. You think about what you'd both done together earlier today, the way it felt to have his entire length thrusting through your folds, the head catching on your hole every so often. The way it felt to have the wide tip pressed just enough inside of you, warm and pulsing.

"Take it out, please," you moan softly, pulling back to look at him again, "Wanna feel it. Please, Joel."

He groans at your words, nods quickly and adjusts you carefully in his lap so he can tug down his zipper. You watch as he reaches inside and pulls himself out, and your mouth immediately begins to water as soon as you catch sight of the dark tip, already wet and leaking. Without any hesitation at all your hand moves downward to wrap around his shaft, holding it in your palm.

"This was inside me," you whisper, the words sounding wonderfully filthy in your mouth as your thumb traces his throbbing tip, remembering how it had felt pushing against you.

"Yeah, it was," he murmurs. He's watching you closely, looking up at you with a lustful expression as you touch him, "Felt so good inside you, baby. Wanted to push all the way in so bad, fill you up."

You shiver, "Why didn't you?"

"'Cause I wanna take my time with you, angel. Wanna fuck you slow, get you used to it," he groans when you start to slowly stroke him up and down, eyes not leaving where you're touching him, "Gonna have you beggin' for it."

Without much thought you reach down and start to tug pathetically at your shorts, wanting them off. The angle is awkward and you can't move them properly, something which he notices right away, eyebrows going up.

"You wanna rub on it again, sweetheart?" he asks, his hands going immediately to your waistband.

You nod furiously, desperate whimpers escaping your lips as he eases you up a bit to pull them down. You bend your legs to accommodate his movements, lifting from his lap for just a moment as he tugs down both your shorts and panties, leaving you bare. He wastes no time in pulling you back down again, both of you letting out simultaneous gasps as his cock slips perfectly against your center, wet and waiting.

"Joel," you whine, burying your face in his shoulder and letting him begin to drag you back and forth on his cock again without any clothes in the way. It feels so fucking good, both of your most intimate parts touching and rubbing in sweet and filthy harmony while you cry into his shirt. One of his hands snakes up your back, holds you firm again as he helps you move.

"That's my perfect angel," he murmurs in your ear, voice shaky, "Thaaaat's my pretty girl, so wet for me. Always so fuckin' wet."

"Can't help it," you sob into his shoulder, feeling your stomach tighten every time his warm cock rubs up against your clit, "Can't help it, Joel, feels so good. You make me feel so good."

"I know," he moans in your ear, "I know I do, baby, I know."

It doesn't take long at all for your orgasm to hit you, a high pitched whine clawing its way out of your throat as you frantically grind against his cock and then still as the waves of pleasure wash over you. He rubs your back, holds you close, lets you feel all of it before pressing a finger to your chin and gently turning your face to look at him.

"Yep," he breathes, assessing your expression, "there's that pool of golden light. Heavenly angels singin' praise. You hear 'em?"

You laugh shakily, still overwhelmed at the feeling of his cock continuing to pulse against your pussy. He keeps holding you there without moving, letting you come down from your high, allowing the moment to stay soft and peaceful as he watches your face. Your eyes are tired - you're still not fully recovered from your busy weekend and he can tell.

"You look sleepy, babygirl," he murmurs softly, "Want me to carry you up?"

You shake your head quickly, "No, I still gotta make you come. Just gimme a minute."

He chuckles, "You don't gotta do anything, honey. You know that right? Need you to know that you don't owe me anythin', not ever."

He really is too considerate for his own good, but there's absolutely no way you're gonna leave him hanging like that. With a sly smile you shake your head again and lift your hips up a bit, bringing your hand down to wrap around his cock again. His jaw goes slack, eyes still staring into yours as you start to stroke him again.

"I wanna make you come," you correct yourself, leaning forward to press a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth, "I want..." you drop your gaze bashfully, trying to let the dirty talk flow naturally like his does as you play with his cock, "I want you to make a mess on me."

"On you?" he asks, clearly surprised by your sudden boldness, "Where, baby? Where d'you want me to make a mess?"

With your other hand - slightly trembling - you pull your shirt up and palm the swell of your belly, just above your mound. He groans, low and lustful.

"On your tummy, baby?" he murmurs, "You want me to get your tummy all messy with my cum?"

You nod, biting down on your lip and pumping his cock faster, eyes coming back up to meet his gaze again as you get him off.

"Want it to drip down onto your pussy, huh?" he continues, brows drawing together in pleasure, "'Cause that's where it belongs, doesn't it?"

You nod again, "It does, Joel," you whisper, "It belongs there."

"You want me to come inside you this weekend, babygirl?" his voice is strained, so close to edge and you moan at his words, eyes still locked onto his, "Yeah, you do, don't you?"

"I do," you whimper, the truth stumbling from your lips before you can even really process it, "I want it so bad, Joel. Want you to fill me up."

With one last groan his eyes roll back and he starts to come all over your stomach, exactly where you'd wanted him to. Holding him in your hand while he comes is a brand new experience - his cock pulses and twitches within your grasp as he makes a strangled noise and brings his hand up to cover his face, overwhelmed by the sensation. You bite down on your lip and watch as his cum paints your skin in thick spurts, warm and thick.

"Fuck," he finally mutters after a moment of heavy breathing, bringing his hand down from his face to look at you again with a sated expression, "You're filthy, baby."

You feel your cheeks warm, eyes going down to where his cum drips down your belly. His gaze follows yours and he smirks, reaching forward to carefully thumb a bit that's trailing dangerously close to your pussy and pushing it up and away from where it shouldn't go - yet, anyway.

"In more ways than one," he murmurs softly, then meets your gaze again. Despite the depraved circumstances you still can't help but feel shy, head tilting away from him as you smile sheepishly and slip out of his lap, pretending not to hear the embarrassingly loud squelch of wet skin against wet skin. You see him grin in the corner of your eye, clearly still fond of your bashfulness.

"I'm gonna need a shower," you say shyly, eyeing your discarded shorts on the floor.

"Go shower, darlin'," he says, still seated on the couch with his legs open and his softening cock peeking through the open zipper of his jeans, "I'll get my bed all comfy for you."

At the mention of his bed you find a little bit of the anxiety from earlier return in the pit of your stomach, twisting uncomfortably. He notices your reaction immediately, a frown settling into his features as he assesses your expression.

"What is it?"

You avoid eye contact, biting your lip and awkwardly tugging your shirt down over your thighs so you're less exposed, "Um, I know nothing happened, I know you didn't... but um, did..." you grimace, "Did she..."

He stands up immediately, tugging his zipper as he goes and reaching you in a single stride, arms coming up to touch your shoulders. You look up and see him shaking his head, brown eyes softly searching yours.

"She wasn't in my bed, honey," he murmurs quietly, "I promise."

The anxiety settles, and you believe him.

--

You cuddle together in bed for a while after your shower, not really talking but just basking in the feeling of being together again after such a shitshow of a weekend. You're warm and comfy in one of Joel's band t-shirts while he lays beside you, spooning you from behind and pressing soft kisses to the exposed part of your neck every so often, his bare legs tangled with yours beneath the sheets.

Part of you still wants answers, wants to learn more about his relationship with his ex, but another part of you doesn't feel ready yet, doesn't want to ask those questions or face those truths. Your mind is running a mile a minute as you lay there without saying anything, brow furrowed as you weigh the pros and cons in your head.

"D'you wanna talk about it, angel?" Joel finally asks, almost like he can sense exactly what you're feeling, his arms tightening around you. Your eyes close and you sigh deeply, squishing the side of your face into his pillow.

"Talk about what?" you mumble, but he's not buying it.

"I know you have questions," he murmurs, kissing the back of your neck again - grounding you, reminding you that it's okay to be yourself here, "There must be a thousand flyin' around that beautiful head o'yours. And I want you to ask 'em."

You sigh again, quieter this time. He squeezes you and reaches up to pull some of your hair back from your cheek and push it behind your ear, stroking it gently. He presses a small kiss there and noses the space beneath.

"You still feel safe with me, right?" he whispers.

At his words you immediately turn in his embrace, a look of shock forming on your face, "Of course I do," you breathe, "Joel, I've never felt safer with anyone than I do with you."

"Okay, okay, just checkin'," he smiles at you, eyes soft and sleepy, "You just seem... somewhere else. And I know why," his smile turns sad again, "And I hate that you're feelin' this way, darlin'. What can I do?"

You shake your head and reach your hand up to palm the side of his face, thumb stroking his cheek tenderly, "You... you can tell me where it is you're taking me this weekend." It's a cop-out and you both know it, but as usual he doesn't push it - you'll talk about your feelings in your own time.

He turns his head and kisses the palm of your hand gently, "Dallas," he murmurs, "Hotel room's booked."

Your eyebrows shoot up, "Dallas? But that's hours away, isn't it?"

"About three or so," he shrugs, "You ever been?"

"Couple times when I was a kid. Why Dallas?"

His arms tighten around you and he leans forward to lightly brush his nose against yours, "I told you, I wanna take you away. Not just twenty minutes or an hour; I want you to forget about all the shit you're dealin' with here for a little while," he kisses the tip of your nose gently, "What better place to do that than another city?"

The thought makes you smile. He's right; getting as far away from your parents as possible definitely sounds like a more than appealing opportunity. You've been to Dallas before but not since you were a kid, experiences that have pretty much clouded over at this point, what with all the restrictive rules you'd had to face.

"I feel bad..." you suddenly whisper.

His expression falters, "Why, baby?"

"'Cause what if I don't wanna leave the hotel room?" You smile slyly and his grin comes back in full force as he pulls you closer, presses loud kisses along the side of your face as you giggle.

"Who said anything about leavin' the hotel room?" he chuckles, then reaches over you to grab his phone from the night stand, "Plus..." he scrolls through it for a few seconds then turns it to face you, "There may be a more specific reason I chose Dallas."

You peer at his phone, see the image of a poster staring back at you: DALLAS GOSPEL MUSIC FESTIVAL. The dates correlate to this upcoming weekend. Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as you turn back to his suddenly cocky expression - he's beyond proud of himself.

"Joel Miller," you gasp with a grin, slapping his arm playfully, "you're worse than me."

--

"So the whole thing just sounds really cool," you lie to your mother the following day, showing her the poster for the festival you'd printed out, "They're also doing group worship in the mornings and there's some other events happening between the shows, like bible trivia." Kill me now.

She raises an eyebrow, assessing it further, "It's an awfully long drive to Dallas on your own..."

"I like driving, it's peaceful."

"And aren't festivals known to have drugs?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, "It's gospel, Mom. I don't think anyone'll be handing out drugs. Plus," you point to the little anti-drug symbol in the corner of the poster, "it's not allowed, see?"

She still looks skeptical, bringing her gaze from the poster to your face, "But you've never wanted to go to something like this before. Why now?"

"I'm just-" you smile as earnestly as you can, "I'm really enjoying my lessons with Mr. Miller. I'd like to go see some professionals perform, get inspired, that kinda thing. I think it'll help me with my technique." Technique, sure. Not as if you've played his guitar more than once at this point.

She grimaces, "It seems an awfully big thing to keep from your father..."

And whose fault is that? "You could tell him I'm visiting another one of my friends?"

She nods slowly, thoughtfully, turning her head to look down at the poster again.

You hate this. You hate how much you're lying. You hate how much she's lying. But more than anything, you hate that you have to lie in the first place. You hate that you have to ask permission, as if you're not a grown adult woman with her own agency. None of this sneaking around and coming up with covers and excuses would even be necessary if your parents just allowed you to be yourself under their roof. The whole thing is so fucked.

"Promise you'll let me know when you get there, and text me every morning and night," she finally says, eyes meeting yours again, "And promise that you'll drive safely."

Relief floods through you, along with that all too familiar guilt, "I promise."

--

The rest of the week passes smoothly, albeit a little slow. Your mother gives your father some kind of excuse about this weekend that seems to appease him, something about a bible study group. You try not to think about how many stories you're weaving together at this point, all of them piling on top of each other and twisting and turning into even bigger and badder lies. It's truly becoming a giant mess, but all of that doesn't seem to matter whenever you think of Joel, of this weekend...

Communication with him is so different now - in the best way. No more short and brief responses, no more wondering what he's thinking or worrying he's no longer interested. You text every single day and talk on the phone in hushed whispers almost every night. You've noticed that he's able to call you earlier now, has stopped going to the bar after work with his crew, but you don't mention it to him. He hasn't been back since last weekend, something that makes you admittedly feel a bit of relief.

You text him on Wednesday afternoon from the parking lot of the grocery store - you've been helping your parents out a bit more now wherever you can, spending your days cleaning the house, doing chores, fulfilling to-do lists, etc. It's the least you can do for essentially stringing them along through the worst web of lies imaginable. This trip, however, you'd caught a glimpse of Bethany in the baking aisle and almost had a heart attack, rushing to the self checkout and scanning all your items before she'd gotten a chance to see you. You haven't spoken to her since the incident in the church bathroom and you don't intend to ever again if you can help it.

almost ran into bethany at the grocery store ahhh!!!! i hate this so much. just wanna leave already and forget about all these people :( miss you. hope your day's going better than mine 💕

You sigh to yourself as you pull out of the parking lot, but your sad demeanor is quickly replaced with a grin when you feel your phone vibrate in your lap. At a red light you look down at it, warmth flooding your cheeks.

Soon, angel. Two more days and it'll just be you and me. Can't wait to treat you the way you deserve. I know just the thing to make your day better, call me tonight x

That night he whispers filthy things in your ear while you finger yourself, face buried in your pillow, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Your face is hot and your lower half is bare against the sheets, sticky and soft. You're imagining how his cock will feel inside you, buried to the hilt, pulsing deep and wet and warm. The thought is almost too much to bear - you've been physically incapable of thinking of anything else lately.

"Wanna feel it in my stomach, Joel, just like you said," you whine into the pillow, tears stinging your eyes as your pleasure nears its peak. "Please, please."

"You will, babygirl," he gasps, voice low and shaky as he tugs at his cock and groans on the other line, "God you're such a good girl beggin' for it like that. Ask me again, honey, ask for my cock."

"Please, Joel," you try to keep your voice quiet but it's so hard, your fingers plunging in and out of yourself at the exact speed you wish he was fucking you, "Please, Mr. Miller. Please give me your cock."

He lets out another groan, "Oh god, baby, I'm so fuckin' close. Ask me for my cum, angel. Ask for it real pretty and polite."

His words send you over the edge as your hand stutters against your pussy and halts, your whole body trembling as you fall face forward onto the bed. Your skin ignites with even more heat as you shut your eyes tight and whisper, "Please gimme your cum, Joel. Want your cum."

You hear him inhale sharply and then exhale even louder, can almost see the white of his cum behind your lids, dripping all over his bare stomach. You can feel your own slick dripping down your inner thigh, staining your sheets. You wonder if your mom has noticed how often you've been changing your bedding lately, but part of you can't really bring yourself to care.

You try to imagine what it would be like for him to pump you full, for his release to leak out of you, what it would look like, feel like... The thought makes goosebumps rise all over your flesh, especially when you remember that he'd already asked if that's what you wanted. In the heat of the moment you'd said yes, and even now you find that you still do. You have been taking your little pill every day at the same time after all, a fact he's very much aware of.

You turn over in bed and snap a quick picture of your bare pussy, wet and used. It's the second time you've done it this week. You send it without saying anything and smile when you hear him groan again on the other line.

"Perfect little pussy," he whispers, and you can hear the pout in his expression.

"It's yours," you murmur sleepily, feeling yourself begin to drift as you bury your face in your pillow again, "It's all yours, Joel."

--

The only issue that inevitably pops up is the driving arrangement. To your parents knowledge you're traveling to Dallas alone, so leaving in your own car is a vital detail. You want to ride in Joel's truck though, but you're not sure it's feasible with the amount of eyes on you, the questions your parents will ask if your car stays in the driveway.

"That's easy to figure out, darlin'," Joel reassures you over the phone the next morning, "Lemme make a call to my brother, I'm pretty sure he's got a spot in a garage he ain't usin' right now."

You grimace at the thought of someone you don't know doing you a favor, "He won't mind?"

Joel snorts, "Tommy? Not at all, angel. Don't you worry."

You've only heard him talk about Tommy once, that day on his back deck when he'd told you about his upbringing. You'd been under the impression that they didn't have a very good relationship, what with being compared to each other their whole lives. Maybe you'd been wrong about it. You've certainly been wrong about a lot of things. You file it away as another question to ask once you finally work up the courage.

You have to admit, it feels really good to have someone take care of things like this, telling you not to worry, handling everything that's difficult. You've been carrying such a load of bullshit for your entire life and knowing that Joel's in charge this weekend just makes you feel safe. Protected. Cared for. You feel like you could ask him for anything and he'd somehow make it happen for you, something you've never really experienced before. Your parents have always been hesitant to spoil you despite their wealth, had rarely ever taken you on vacations that weren't undercut with the promise of learning or preaching. Your desires and needs have always taken a backseat to appearances, standards, bigger goals. You've never really felt you could ever relax with them, ask for things, be yourself.

It feels so fucking good to have Joel Miller.

Your parents have already left for the day when you climb into your car on Friday morning, tossing your travel bag in the backseat and switching on the ignition with a smile on your face. You and Joel have it all figured out - he'd talked to his brother and there's indeed a space for you to park your car in for the weekend. Joel surprised you even more by taking the day off, so you're meeting him at the garage in about an hour's time. Before then, though... you think another shopping trip is in order - for one specific item in particular.

--

The lingerie store doesn't seem as scary this time around. Last time you hadn't even been able to step foot inside, but this time you're more prepared, ready for the skimpy mannequins and uniquely shaped underwear. You're still not really exactly sure what you're looking for, but you don't panic this time when a salesclerk walks over to you with a smile and asks if she can help you. She's probably around your mom's age, something you're not sure makes you uncomfortable or not.

"Um, yeah," you say awkwardly, unable to make direct eye contact, "I was wondering if you have anything...um... like..." you try to find the words, heart beating a bit quicker in your chest, "Something cute? But sexy too, but, um, not too sexy, if that makes sense," you feel your cheeks warm as you babble, thinking of the spiked bras and crotchless panties you'd seen last time, "Just something not too crazy, something pretty but still... still sexy." God, how many times did you just say the word sexy?

The woman just smiles and nods without any ounce of judgement whatsoever, "I know just the thing, sweetie, follow me." Well, despite being around the same age, your mother would certainly never call you sweetie. She'd also never go lingerie shopping with you either; the very thought is laughable.

She leads you to a section full of floral themed sets, brightly colored and soft, lacy and delicate. Your eyes widen a bit at the selection, the options in shapes and sizes, colors and transparency, boy shorts and g strings. You have to admit that you could see yourself wearing pretty much anything here - it's right up your alley, and you're pretty sure it's Joel's preference as well.

"As you can see, we have a big range," the salesclerk says with another smile, "Some of them are more simple than others if that's what you're looking for," she picks up one of the sets, blue and frilly with little forget-me-nots embroidered over the nipples, "This one is very popular, and comfortable too, speaking from experience."

You nod, analyzing it carefully and trying your best not to picture the salesclerk wearing it, "Thanks, but I'll, uh, just have a look myself, if that's okay?"

"Of course!" she puts the set back down and tosses you one last smile, "Take your time, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything."

Being around your parents so much this summer has really messed with your psyche. You find it odd to encounter people like this, people your parents age, Joel's age, who clearly have no qualms about dressing sexually. It's almost the way you'd felt when you first got to college, the culture shock of taking ownership of your own body and doing what you want with it, not constantly wondering if you're going to go to hell for showing too much skin. It reminds you yet again of your own naivety, everything you've been missing up to this point.

But also... everything you're going to experience this weekend. That is why you're here, after all.

You end up picking out what you believe to be the prettiest set. It's white and transparent in certain places, edged in pink and covered in little embroidered flowers, purple and yellow and green. The bra has buttons in the center that you're not sure actually work or are just for show... though regardless, you imagine Joel slowly fingering them while you peer up from below on the hotel bed, a thought that makes your cheeks burn. The panties are cute and look easy to slip on and off but there's an odd third component, just as pretty with straps that lead to nothing. You furrow your brow, staring at it.

You could ask the salesclerk what it is but you really don't want to embarrass yourself. Instead you take a picture and send it in your group chat:

buying lingerie, what is this?? help!!

Of course, Tasha is the first to reply:

IT'S A GARTER BELT, BABE. HOLDS UP STOCKINGS IN A FUN SEXY WAY. SO BUY STOCKINGS. also that's cute as fuuuuck. ur gonna give the old man a heart attack

You stifle a laugh and shove your phone back in your pocket, picking up the entire set and walking to the cash. You grab a pair of sheer white stockings in your size and slip everything onto the counter, still avoiding eye contact as the salesclerk from before walks behind and starts ringing everything up.

"Find everything you were looking for, sweetie? Did you want to try any of this on before you purchase?"

You shake your head immediately, "No, that's okay." The thought of trying any of this stuff on in a public place is definitely still a little too much outside your comfort zone.

The clerk nods and turns the card reader to you with a smile, "That'll be a hundred and fifty eight dollars."

You're pretty sure you've never looked more shocked in your life.

why is being sexy so awkward and expensive?

welcome to my life sister

158 DOLLARS FOR 3 SCRAPS OF MATERIAL

that's it, let it all out

--

The garage Joel gave you the address for isn't too far from the mall, hidden down a few side streets where you feel confident your parents will never accidentally come across it. With a significantly emptier wallet, you pull into the parking lot and spot Joel's truck, smiling when you see him get out to wave you over. He's wearing one of your favorite flannels - green and black, similar to the one you keep under your mattress - and another band t-shirt underneath; you've lost track of how many he has at this point.

"There's my girl," he says as you pull up beside him with the window rolled down. He leans against your car, tips his head in to kiss you gently, "Find it okay? Directions were clear?"

You can't help but roll your eyes with a giggle, "I just typed it into the Maps app, Joel. Didn't need all the rights and lefts."

He chuckles, "Follow me, I'll show you where to park it."

You inch along behind him as he leads you into the relatively small parking garage and gestures to the right. There's an open spot between an RV trailer and a pick-up truck.

"Those are both Tommy's," he says with a sly smile, "So feel free to scratch 'em up if you want."

You roll your eyes again and carefully pull into the space, being sure to avoid any of the encouraged scratching. It's a comfortable fit and you grab your things from the backseat before climbing out to meet Joel behind your car.

"Hi," you say quietly, peering up at him with a soft smile, not caring that you already had your introduction a few minutes ago. All you can think about now is the time that stretches out in front of you, an entire weekend of just you and him.

"Hi, angel," he murmurs, and you feel his hands come up to squeeze your arms, pull you in close, "Ready to get outta here?" You nod excitedly and he gestures toward the garage entrance, "Then let's hit the road."

--

Three hours on the road passes much quicker than you thought it would. You remember road trips with your parents as a kid, traveling miles in random directions to witness supposed "miracles" or visit religious sites. Before he'd joined the police force your father had been a pretty prominent presence in church groups all throughout the southern states, and by proxy you and your mother had too. You can't really remember much of the experience other than having to constantly be on your best behavior, put on a perfect front no matter what. It was exhausting. Not to mention the only music you could listen to had to be pre-approved by your parents. You'd sit in the back seat with perfect posture, mouthing along to songs about God while you stared longingly at the kids in cars passing by, screaming songs that were forbidden to you at the top of their lungs.

You tell Joel about it. The first twenty minutes or so of the drive is spent unloading your past road trip experiences, something you genuinely hadn't planned on doing. But talking to him is just so easy. The words fall from your lips without any hesitance whatsoever, no fear that he'll ask why you put up with it, why you didn't stand up for yourself, those questions you'd been asked by people at college whenever you mentioned your upbringing. He listens attentively, reaches over and picks up your hand to place it on his thigh, squeezes it reassuringly.

"I'm just rambling now," you finally say with a shake of your head, "The point is, this is my first road trip without all those rules, you know? So it's just... I'm just really excited."

"I get it, honey. And I'm glad I can give you this experience," he turns to look at you with a crooked smile, "Among others." Your cheeks warm.

As usual, he commands the space he's in. He's so big and broad in the front seat, one large hand on the wheel while the other caresses your fingers, thumbs your palm. His forearms are thick and freckled, lined with veins and little nicks and cuts here and there from work. The grey in his scruff reflects light in the sun, sending little twinkles and glimmers into your periphery every so often. He's so perfect, sitting there beside you. So handsome. Yours.

"Which band is that?" you ask him, genuinely curious as your eyes trail down to his t-shirt. You can't help but assume that it's some kind of metal band, what with all the skulls.

"This?" he tugs at it, eyes falling to where you're looking, "Grateful Dead."

"Oh, cool."

He smiles sympathetically, "You have no idea who they are, do you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

He laughs and squeezes your hand again, then lets go to reach into the center console for his phone. You watch him unlock it and pull his face back to squint at it, eyes flicking back and forth between the screen and the road while he tries to access something.

"I can do it," you offer, and without any qualms he slips his phone into your hand with a smile.

"I- uh- I made a playlist," he says, turning his attention to the road again, "For the trip. There's some Grateful Dead on there, if you wanna hear it. You can add your own stuff to it too, don't want you thinkin' you can only listen to my shit."

You don't know why the concept of Joel making a playlist specifically for your trip is so fucking adorable, but it is. You can't help but smile as you open Spotify and spot it immediately - simply called Dallas. You scroll through it and pick the first Grateful Dead song you spot.

"Wait," you say, scrunching your eyebrows as soft guitar fills the truck, gentle and smooth, "This is Grateful Dead?"

He chuckles, "What were you expectin'?"

"Somebody screaming, maybe? Especially for a song called Friend of The Devil," you turn to him with a shake of your head, "God, you're telling me this is the kinda shit my parents forbid me from listening to? It's literally just some guy."

He laughs again, deep and genuine, "Half the shit parents forbid their kids from listenin' to ain't even that bad. I remember a couple years before my momma died, she told me she'd heard this new singer called Bruce Springsteen, absolutely loved him," he grins at the memory, "Meanwhile she'd thrown out all my Springsteen records when I was sixteen, said they were filth."

"Did you remind her?"

He shakes his head, "Nah, I let her believe he really was some new singer she'd discovered. Wouldn't have done any good to rub it in her face. We'd already made peace."

You think about that concept - peace. The very thought of ever having a peaceful relationship with your own parents feels foreign and downright impossible, a feeling that makes you ridiculously sad if you think about it too long. You don't want to entertain the idea of having to say goodbye to them completely at any point, for them to be out of your life entirely because they don't want you anymore. You're glad Joel was able to make peace with his mother, but after years? After his father had passed away? The thought is frightening.

"Now, Backstreet Boys," Joel continues with a wry smile, "that's a band you gotta watch out for. I had to stare at those faces every time I went in Sarah's room for years. Talk about trauma."

The discomfort fades almost immediately, a natural giggle bubbling past your lips at his words. You like hearing him mention his daughter so casually - you're finally in the loop, finally getting to see the real him, hear his unfiltered thoughts.

"Can I... can I ask you something about Sarah?"

His expression changes then, not into one of anger or guilt, but surprise. He nods immediately, reaches back over to take your hand in his, "Of course you can, angel. Anythin' you want."

"Um, how old is she?" You've already done the math in your head, but you want to be sure, want to hear it from him.

"She's thirty eight," he gives you a look, "Does that make you feel weird?"

You shake your head, "No, it doesn't." You mean it. You'd probably find it weirder if she was closer to your age, but thirty eight... a full grown woman, out of the house and living her own life for years. There's something different about that, something that doesn't bring you any discomfort.

"I just wanna say... I've... I've never been with anyone your age," he looks away again, like he's worried about seeing your face as he says it, "You're the youngest person I've been with, save for when I was that age myself." He grimaces, "I don't... I don't go around preyin' on young girls or anything, if you were worried about that. I know the first day we met might've made you think otherwise, but-"

You smile softly as he babbles, "I believe you, Joel. I mean... I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind. I was a bit worried about that this weekend, when I saw you and Sarah. I thought she was my age."

He laughs a little breathlessly, shaking his head, "Oh, she'd be very pleased to hear that, lemme tell you." He makes a face. "The thinkin' she's your age part, not the part about you thinkin' we were together. She probably wouldn't like that so much."

You giggle, "Yeah, probably not."

"But I do mean it, honey. I'm not that kinda man, or at least I never thought I was," he bites his lip, "You kinda turned my whole world upside down that day, if I'm bein' honest."

You don't really know what to say in response, but you feel pride swell in your chest at his words. You reach your other hand over and place it on top of where you're already entwined, peering up at him fondly, hoping he can sense what you're feeling. The song switches over to something else then, another guitar heavy tune. You recognize the melody immediately, your eyes going wide.

"Speaking of the first day we met," you say softly, hoping he'll recognize the significance - and he does. He peers at you with that beautifully tender expression he reserves only for you, grip tightening beneath your other hand.

"Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan."

"I knew it was Bob Dylan."

"Good ear. You play?"

"Um, not really."

The memory sends tingles down your spine. How was that only a few weeks ago? How have you gone from being the shy and bashful girl at the end of Joel Miller's walkway to the girl sitting in his truck holding his hand on a three hour road trip to another city? Talking about your life, his life, the things that matter? The girl with lingerie and birth control packed neatly in your travel bag?

"I'm still plannin' on teachin' you how to play this," he finally says, smirking, "Don't think you can get off easy just 'cause we're focusin' on the hymns."

You roll your eyes with a grin, "When you actually teach me a hymn, we'll talk."

--

It doesn't take long to realize that driving with Joel is very distracting. Not only is he so large and broad in the seat beside you, looking gorgeous and charming as he always does, but he also smells fucking delicious. Being in such close proximity to him in a small space, being able to smell his cologne mixed with the sheer scent of him, raw and masculine and sexy. It just reminds you of how it feels to be underneath him, overwhelmed by him entirely, feeling the rough edges of his body against yours.

You've had the windows rolled up since the first hour, turned on the AC once you'd gotten on the highway and let the cool air fill the truck. But now it's just circulating that fucking smell, thick and heady as you watch little droplets of sweat form on Joel's forehead, trickle down his temples. You feel a throb in your panties, a surge of release, and you clench your thighs together.

"You okay, babygirl?" he asks you softly, reaching over to place his big hand on your bare thigh - of course he'd noticed your change in demeanor immediately, "Need to stop somewhere and use the bathroom?"

His hand on your thigh just makes you clench tighter, makes you lean back lazily in your seat and let out a quiet whimper. You turn and look at him the exact moment his gaze reaches your face, reads it, tries to make sense of what you need.

"What is it?" he murmurs, hand slowly rubbing your skin, "What's got you makin' sounds like that, huh?"

You whimper again, already fully decided on what you want. Your hand goes down to grip his, move it upwards to the crotch of your shorts. His jaw slackens, eyes going dark.

"Need your pussy touched, baby?"

You nod, feeling heat flood your cheeks at his words. You watch as he assesses the road in front of him, the lane beside him. He chews the inside of his cheek and seems to settle on something internally. He keeps his eyes trained ahead while his hand fiddles with the zipper on your shorts.

"Unbutton those for me, pretty girl," he says, voice suddenly low, and you don't need telling twice. You practically tear your shorts open and allow him to reach his hand inside - it's so big and warm, hairy knuckles and callused fingertips slipping past the band of your underwear. Another pitiful sound falls from your lips as his index drops to your entrance and immediately slips inside.

"Joel," you whisper, tilting your head back and closing your eyes as he pushes knuckle deep inside you, filling you quickly and easily.

He doesn't say anything, just prods a second finger against your hole and slowly pushes it alongside the first. You take him so easy now; it doesn't burn the way it did those first few times, and it certainly helps that you're also soaking wet, practically dripping through your shorts.

"That's it," he murmurs softly beside you, other hand still on the wheel while he monitors the traffic around him, "That feel better, baby?"

"Y-yes," you breathe, looking down again to watch the lewd actions happening in your lap, watch the way his hand moves back and forth in your shorts as he pulls his fingers in and out of you.

"Just close your eyes and relax, angel," he tells you gently, "I'll take care of it."

You do as he says, letting yourself relax as best you can while he continues to slowly fuck you with his fingers. Another song starts playing, something low with a steady beat that he suddenly sets the pace to, speeding up as you open your legs a bit wider and moan softly. His thumb finds your clit and circles it, making you whine.

"Shhh, it's okay," your hear him say beside you, working his fingers, "It's alright, babygirl. Gonna give you what you need."

You moan again at the images that flood your brain, the thought of being underneath him in only a couple hours time, the feeling of his cock pushing inside, filling you up in just the way you've been aching for. You imagine his heavy breaths, hot and sticky against your skin. The smell of his cologne, his sweat. The coarseness of his pubic hair against your bare pussy. You writhe in the seat and tighten your thighs together, another whine slipping from your mouth.

"I got you," he murmurs, and he does. It doesn't take much else at all for you to climax, and he gets you there quickly with a few more circles of his thumb, the stiffness of his fingers, his name slipping past your lips as you come.

You lay loose and pliant in your seat for a moment, eyes still closed. He goes to remove his hand from your shorts but you stop him, reaching down to hold his wrist and keep his warm hand inside. He cups your pussy gently and just holds it, the palm of his hand sitting firmly atop your throbbing hole, rhythmically pulsing against his skin.

"Just keep it there," you whisper, chest heaving, "Please."

"Christ," he grunts under his breath, and you open your eyes to look at him, see the flush of his skin as he looks at you with desire in his eyes, "You were right, babygirl. I don't think we'll be leavin' that hotel room."

--

You like Joel's playlist a lot. After stopping into a gas station to clean up a bit, you sit in the passenger seat while he loads up on gas and scroll through it on your own phone, liking certain tracks that have stood out to you. His musical range is very broad; there's a lot of artists on it that you've never heard of, but you're not sure if that's just because of how sheltered you've been or because he's so much older than you. You choose to believe it's the latter - you hate thinking about how much you've missed out on. He'd said you could add some of your own songs but the thought makes you feel embarrassed; you haven't really had much time to form your own music taste, have spent your college experience so far just listening to whatever's popular since you couldn't when you were younger. You wouldn't even know what to add.

You scroll back up to the top of the playlist and tap Joel's profile out of curiosity, wondering if he has any other public playlists. You smile to yourself when you see titles like BBQ, 80s Tunes, Good Solos, Acoustic, Oldies, Angel.

Hold on...

Angel

You stare at it for a moment, thumb hovering over the icon but making no move to actually press it. You suddenly feel like you're invading his privacy somehow, like this isn't something he'd want you to see, not unless he said you could. With all the strength you can muster you hit the back button and return to the Dallas playlist, tapping a random song and locking your phone.

Joel gets back in the truck, oblivious to your discovery. "Gettin' closer, darlin'. You excited?"

You smile, warmth bursting in your chest, "Can't wait."

--

The conversation drifts here and there throughout the rest of the drive, both of you asking and answering questions back and forth about your lives, your pasts, your interests, your dislikes. You learn that Joel really likes music. You've known this, of course - it's not like it's some huge surprise - but hearing him talk about the artists he likes, the instruments, the melodies, the lyrics... you can hear the passion in his voice, the adoration for his favorites, the infatuation with certain lines and words. He loves music.

"Why aren't you a musician?" you ask him, genuinely curious, "Like, this really seems like something you should be doing professionally."

He chuckles at that, shakes his head, "Knowin' a lot about somethin' doesn't necessarily constitute a career in it," he shrugs, "I mean... I can't say I never thought about it. To be honest, when I was a teenager I did dream about performin' live, recordin' an album, all that jazz."

"So... why didn't you?"

He tilts his head with a half smile, "I think you're forgettin' the part where I became a dad right outta high school."

You wince, "Oh. Right."

He laughs, "S'okay. I mean, I still probably coulda done it. But there was a period there in those early years where I stopped playin' altogether, so it kinda just... slipped my mind."

You frown, "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."

He takes a breath, thoughtful for a moment as he tightens his grip on the wheel and squeezes your hand at the same time, like he's preparing himself - or preparing you.

"Well, uh... Sarah's mom, she left." Your lips part in surprise but you don't say anything, giving him a few seconds to collect his thoughts again before continuing, "She, uh, she had really bad post-partum depression, lasted a really long time. Of course, at the time, that kinda thing wasn't really talked about very much. And on top o' that we were both living with her parents since I'd been kicked out and we couldn't afford to go anywhere else. Even when we finally managed to move out they stayed in our business."

"And her parents... were they...?"

"They were strict, yeah," his jaw tenses, "They were... they were very hard on her, which made it worse. And she never wanted to be a mom, ya know? She was only seventeen when it happened and it completely uprooted all her plans. She'd wanted to get outta Texas, go to California or New York, get away from her parents and all the bullshit." He sighs, shaking his head slightly at the memory, "But livin' where we did, abortion was outta the question and her parents were our only option."

He's not looking at you but you can see the pain in his expression, the regret. A wave of sadness washes over you as you watch him talk about this particularly difficult part of his past, a part you'd been curious about ever since last weekend but had been too afraid to ask about. You're not really sure what to say.

"They made us get married," he makes a face, "And I mean, it's not like we weren't in love at that point, 'cause we were. She was my high school sweetheart and I loved her so much, I wanted it to work. But she was so unhappy. So distant. And when Sarah was born it was like she was gone. The Mish I knew just completely disappeared." He finally looks at you, expression apologetic, "That's her name - Mish. Well, Michelle, but she hates Michelle. God," he sighs exasperatedly, "I'm sorry, darlin', I shouldn't be ramblin' on about this."

You shake your head quickly, pulling your hand from his grip to lay it on top of his and squeeze, a comforting gesture, "No, Joel, don't apologize. Tell me. I wanna know."

He peers at you, hesitant, "You're sure?"

"Yes. I... I wanna know you, if you'll let me." You squeeze his hand again, reassuring him quietly.

So he tells you. He tells you about getting his first real job in construction, working the latest hours possible to earn as much as he could to get the three of them out of Mish's parents house and into their own. He tells you about Sarah being born, how he'd never felt as happy in his entire life as he did when he first held her in his arms, how she was a light in the darkness for him, lit up the room with her killer smile and big brown eyes. He tells you how he'd woken up one morning to a note from Mish, telling him that she couldn't do it anymore, that she had to get out before the situation swallowed her whole. He tells you about how his little brother Tommy, the one you'd thought he disliked, the golden boy, started skipping school to take care of Sarah when Joel couldn't - not because Joel asked him, but because he'd wanted to help.

"They say it takes a village," he says with a soft smile, "But for me, I had my brother and that was enough. It was like the past however many years of that godforsaken rivalry our parents pushed on us hadn't even happened."

"This coming from the person who asked me to scratch his truck an hour ago," you tease, and he just laughs, peering over at you with a genuine smile and tears shining in his eyes. There he is, the real him.

"Mish, she uh-" he clears his throat, "She came back, when Sarah was a little older, but then she disappeared again, same story. We found out later that she was dealin' with a whole lot more than post partum. I won't go into the details but once she got on the right meds, started therapy, she came back to us. Took a little while for things to settle - we tried on our relationship again, but we realized we just didn't fit, it was never gonna work." You squeeze his hand again. "She stayed in our lives though, became a good mom to Sarah, that's what mattered most."

"And you were just... you were just alone, through all of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean, I know you had Tommy, but... that must've been so hard." You can't even imagine dealing with all of that, find it difficult to comprehend the fact that Joel had become a father when he was younger than you, had to drop all his dreams and desires and start living entirely for someone else. "Didn't your parents ever try to reach out at all? Didn't they want to know Sarah?"

He sighs, eyes on the road, "My momma did, I know she did. But my father wouldn't let her, and she did as he said, no questions asked."

You can't help but picture your own parents, the way your mother bends over backwards to police herself around your father, the way she's taught you your entire life to do the same. The way she can't even talk to him about what's really going on - or at least what she thinks is going on - for fear of him winding up in control of the situation, making the decisions for her.

"I wonder if my mom would still wanna see me if she knew what I've been doing," you say aloud, unable to keep the thought to yourself. "Or if my dad would force her to shut me out."

Once again your hands swap places, Joel wrapping his fingers around your palm and gripping it tightly. But he doesn't say anything, doesn't give you any words of reassurance, and you know it's because he can't.

--

A soft kiss to your right cheek, then your left. Whiskered and warm. Your eyes flutter open and you see Joel leaning over the center console with a tender smile on his face, brown eyes peering down at you fondly.

"We're here, baby," he murmurs.

You blink a few times, confused. Only moments ago you'd been listening to music, chatting about your degree and answering Joel's questions about your other life, the one where your parents aren't in charge. He'd been so attentive, so interested in learning more about you. You vaguely remember a song coming on, slow and melodic, and then...

"I fell asleep?" you ask blearily, sitting up a bit.

"Out like a light," he says with a smile, "Had to skip all my heavy metal."

You roll your eyes and peer out the window, confused by the darkness beyond.

"We're in the parking garage at the hotel," he clarifies quickly, leaning back into his own seat, "Ready to check in?"

You nod and yawn, opening the passenger side door and stepping out to stretch your arms above your head. It feels good to be out of the small confines of Joel's truck, even though it was nice while it lasted. He follows suit and walks around the side to grab the luggage from the back.

"You brought your guitar?" you ask, watching as he picks up the long black carrying case and slips it over his shoulder.

"That I did," he replies with a wink, "Gotta get that lesson in, right?"

You feel heat bloom in your cheeks and avoid his flirtatious gaze, moving toward the truck bed to grab your bag. He gets to it first, picks up both his bag and yours and carries them easily in both hands, walking over to meet you on the other side of the truck.

"I can take mine," you offer, "That's a lot to carry."

He just chuckles and shakes his head, walking in front of you, "You ain't liftin' one single finger on this trip, sweetheart."

Walking from the darkness of the parking garage to the suddenly blaringly bright sun of Dallas is disconcerting at first, but certainly not unwelcome. Your eyes squint against the sunlight, focus on Joel's broad back as he walks in front of you with all the bags, guitar case swinging from his shoulder. God, he looks good carrying all that, big hands gripping the handles of the bags as he saunters ahead. That's yours, you remind yourself yet again, he's yours.

You're so distracted by how good he looks that you barely really take notice of the hotel until you're pushing past the doors into the main lobby, and that's when you freeze in place with your jaw practically on the floor.

What the fuck?

When Joel told you he'd booked a hotel, the only thing you'd really pictured in your mind was the room itself. You'd imagined a pretty sizeable room with a big bed, an ensuite bathroom and maybe a balcony if you were lucky. You've never really spent much time in a hotel before, especially nothing fancy or expensive. When you'd traveled with your parents you usually stayed with family friends or other parishioners; they hadn't wanted to expose you to too much luxury or wealth. It's hypocritical now when you think back on it, considering the large house your parents live in, the pool, the cars, the boat your father wants to buy. They'd had money to throw away on those things but couldn't splurge on a hotel room every once in a while? Couldn't treat you to something you really wanted?

Now you stand in an absolutely gorgeous main lobby, all marble floors and bright greenery, glints of gold and crystal and diamonds everywhere you turn. You suddenly feel like you've walked into a European country - how the fuck did you drive three hours from Austin and end up in a place like this?

Joel is stalling a few feet in front of you, that cocky smile in full view as he watches your reaction, "Ain't too shabby, huh?"

You're still staring with wide eyes at the sleek floors, the glittering fountains, the fucking bell-hops wearing those silly little outfits. You turn back to Joel with a shake of your head, mouth open.

You barely register the checking-in process, too mesmerized by your surroundings to pay attention. A bell-hop loads up your bags onto a luggage cart, the clerk hands Joel a key card, and you're still in complete awe of what you've just walked into as you follow Joel almost robotically to the elevator without speaking.

This is too much, you want to say.

How much did you spend? you want to ask.

The room itself is fucking beautiful, overlooking the hustle and bustle of the city below, a sight you already know will look gorgeous when the sun goes down and the buildings are lit up. The bed is huge, much bigger than you'd anticipated, with a giant flatscreen TV on the wall overtop a confusingly high-tech looking fireplace. There's a comfy looking couch and an ensuite to your right, and a fucking balcony, just like you'd hoped for. You stand in complete silence in the doorway for a solid minute until the bell-hop is gone and Joel has to nudge you forward a little to shut the door.

"Say somethin'," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling his face in your neck.

You shake your head again, eyes still wide, "I- I don't even know what to say."

"D'you like it?" his voice is muffled in the warmth of your neck, lips pressing a soft kiss there as his arms squeeze you gently, "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

You swallow around the lump in your throat, close your eyes through freshly stinging tears and lean back into his embrace. "I'm thinking that.... that I can't believe you did all this for me."

He kisses your neck again, slow and sweet, "Of course I did, angel. S'what you deserve."

You open your eyes and look down to see his big arms holding you tightly, feel the firm warmth of him at your back, smell that heady and delicious scent of his cologne. This isn't some dream you're having, some weird and sinful idea you came up with in your head; this is real. You're really here, standing in a beautiful hotel room with the most beautiful man you could ever imagine. You feel so safe.

And now you have an entire weekend to show him how much that means to you, a thought that sends a chill up your spine when your gaze rises back up to the bed. There it is. That's where it's going to happen.

"So... what's the plan?" you ask quietly.

He chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your ear before pulling back and spinning you around in his embrace, peering down at you with a soft expression. "Anythin' you want," he says with a smile, "You're in charge."

You can't help but feel yourself pout a bit, "What if I don't wanna be in charge?"

He leans down and brushes his nose against yours softly, "Well, then I'd say..." he's cut off by a sudden gurgling sound, and your eyes widen when you realize it's your stomach - you haven't eaten since this morning. He laughs lightly, pulling back to assess you fondly, "I'd say we better head down to the dining room and get some food in you."

You grimace, even though you know he's right. "Spoke too soon."

--

While you enjoyed the thrill of the hotel surprise, part of you wishes Joel had told you what kind of place this was so you could have packed accordingly. You definitely didn't pack anything super elegant or fancy, although you had packed all the dresses you'd bought a little while ago, the ones you'd tried on in his kitchen and haven't had an opportunity to wear since. You assess your options now, bag open on the couch, fingers trailing through the different fabrics. The little pink bag with your new lingerie still sits tucked into the side, and you wonder if you should wear it underneath whatever you choose to wear for dinner. As usual, you're not really sure how this kind of thing is supposed to work.

You settle on the pink one; you know from past experience that Joel's certainly a fan of that color on you. You take it into the bathroom along with the lingerie while he rummages through his own clothes, oblivious.

"Okay," you whisper to yourself as you stand in front of the mirror and tug off your t-shirt, then shorts. You stare at yourself in your underwear and bra for a few seconds, then carefully peel them from your body and reach inside the little pink bag. You'd already cut the tags off - no going back now.

The set fits perfectly, hugging your soft curves and the swells of your breasts, shaping your tummy and accentuating your thighs. You look good, as much as you feel odd admitting that to yourself. It's still been hard to look in the mirror lately and see what Joel sees, to not feel guilty for simply having a body. It gives you a similar feeling to how you'd felt in your bikini, though the lingerie leaves a lot less to the imagination with its transparent material and plunging panty line.

You tug on the dress and then the sheer white stockings, loving the way they stop at your thighs just under the dress and show off a small sliver of bare skin beneath the hem. You decide to leave the garter belt in the bathroom until later, tucking it into one of the cupboards underneath some towels. You peer at yourself in the mirror again, assessing yourself up and down and hoping Joel will like what he sees.

He does.

The second you come out of the bathroom you see him pause, looking up from where he's buttoning up a nice black dress shirt to gaze at you hungrily. His lips part, eyes going hooded as he walks over to you and firmly palms your lower back, pulls you close and trails his other hand up the side of your body.

"Christ," he breathes, almost a growl, "You're so fuckin' pretty."

Without any other words one of his hands suddenly reaches up your dress, grips tight to one of your thighs. You gasp, eyes widening as he thumbs the bare skin just beneath your panties, pulling back to peer down at you with a lustful expression.

"God, I could fuck you right now," he mutters, and the words send a squeak past your lips, a gush of wetness into your brand new panties, "Yeah, you want me to bend you over and fill you up? 'Cause you look positively sinful right now."

You whimper, tempted immediately by his words, at the thought of being bent over the edge of the bed and taken right there without any preparation. But you know that's not how you want this to go; if it was, you'd have already been fucked by him ages ago. And you know that he knows it too, that he wants the same things you want - to take it slow, to take your time, feel everything the way you want to feel it.

It doesn't mean you can't tease him, though. "Would you actually?" you ask softly, voice shaking a little bit in anticipation.

"God, yes, I would," he murmurs, "Just say the word and I will."

You bite your lip, almost genuinely considering it for a moment before your stomach suddenly growls again and you sigh exasperatedly.

He smiles, leans down to press his lips to your ear, "We have all weekend, remember?"

You shiver at the thought.

--

Dinner is beyond lovely, delicious dishes served on sparkling silver platters in a grand dining room, bottomless champagne which you surprise yourself by indulging in - about a glass and a half - and a live band performing some soft jazzy numbers on a stage nearby. It's so romantic, so dazzling and classy and like nothing you've ever experienced before. Your eyes flicker back and forth between everything periodically, like you can't really believe you're sitting here - but you are.

It feels so nice to sit in a public place with Joel, be surrounded by people who have no idea who you are and no concept of the secret nature of your relationship. It's just normal, easy, no need to be guarded or quiet or pretend you're something you're not. He smiles at you from across the table and you smile back easily without any pretenses, without that nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to be on your best behavior. You can just be yourself.

He's so handsome, dressed mostly in black with his greying curls gelled back a bit, deep chocolate eyes almost never leaving yours. He looks at you like you're the only person in the room, the only one he can see while you trade more stories about your lives, your favorite things, your dreams. You tell him you'd like to write a book one day, not exactly sure what about yet but how you're not sure you'd even have the confidence to actually publish it - he tells you with warmth and tenderness that he'd read anything you wrote, be the first one to buy a copy. He tells you how he's written songs but never played them to anybody before, but he'd play them for you if you wanted to hear them - you do.

Despite the pretty music, the twinkling lights, the cozy atmosphere and yummy food... you can't wait to get back to the hotel room. Your skin is buzzing with anticipation of what comes next, what you both know will happen as soon as you're back behind closed doors. The thought has been sitting there in the back of your mind all day, all week - for crying out loud, it's been there since the day you met him. It's nice to sit and eat and chat and pretend for a little bit like you didn't come on this vacation for a very specific reason, but that reason is becoming glaringly more apparent the longer you sit across from each other, stealing glances and soft touches. You need him. You need him right now.

Your eyes must go glassy, a faraway look in your expression, because a few moments after finishing your food Joel extends his arm to you and squeezes your hand, peers at you with darkening eyes.

"I know, babygirl," he murmurs, calloused fingertips caressing your skin, "Let's go."

--

As soon as the door shuts behind the both of you Joel's arms are immediately around you again, just like they'd been when you first stepped into the room after check-in. This time though, he presses his body firmly to yours, pushes his groin against your ass and reaches up to pull your hair back behind your ear, other hand flat against your stomach.

"I want you so bad," he whispers, and your whole body seems to convulse in his grasp in anticipation, "Been thinkin' about it all day."

"Me too," you whisper back, like it's a secret. "I'm ready, Joel."

He noses your ear, your neck, your shoulder. You feel him pull back the sleeve of your dress and press an open mouthed kiss to the skin there, slow and wet.

"I'm gonna take care of you," he murmurs softly, "I promise."

You lean back into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to press kisses all over your exposed skin, the rough prickles of his facial hair feeling sinful against your flesh. He grinds himself into you again and you whine.

"You're gonna feel it right here," he reminds you, rubbing your tummy gently and inhaling your perfume, "Right there, babygirl."

You whimper, legs buckling underneath you, "I want it, Joel, Want it now, please." Your thoughts are clouded by the smell of him, the feel of him, and it's only when you feel him start to unzip your dress in the back that you remember what you're wearing underneath.

"Wait," you say quickly, pulling away and turning around to face him, "Wait, just - just gimme one minute," he looks confused and you smile apologetically, "I have a surprise for you first." You reach forward and take his hands in yours, pull him toward the bed and gently nudge him onto the edge, "Just wait there, okay? I'll be right back."

You start backing up to go to the ensuite and can't help but appreciate the way he looks sitting there for a moment, leaning back on his hands while he gazes at you from the bed under his lashes. His legs are so long, belt buckle shining tantalizingly under the overhead light. You watch as he kicks his shoes off, smiling up at you.

"Don't go anywhere," you tell him, still backing up, "Stay right there."

He grins, "Ain't nowhere I'd rather be than right here, baby."

Your skin heats as you turn the doorknob and head into the bathroom, locking it behind you. You try not to think too much about what's about to happen, what you're going to do together the second you open that door again - the thought is so beyond overwhelming that you can already feel goosebumps rising all over your body.

The dress comes off easily and you place it with slightly trembling fingers onto the counter, reaching down to open up the cupboard and grab the garter you'd stowed away. You don't look at yourself in the mirror until it's securely in place, stockings hooked into it symmetrically albeit a little precariously, and when you finally do see yourself - bright eyed and warm, hair a little tousled, anticipation clear as day on your face - you can't help but grin.

You're about to lose your virginity. To Joel.

You take a few steadying breaths in the mirror, closing your eyes and giving yourself a moment to just quietly exist. You press your palms to the counter, inhaling and exhaling slowly, grounding yourself and working up the courage to go back into the room.

And then you hear it - a low buzzing sound, rattling against the solid tile of the bathroom countertop. You open your eyes in slight confusion, looking toward the sound; it's your phone, tucked against the wall, hidden behind the hand towel. Your brow furrows - has it been in here this whole time? You can't remember checking it at dinner, don't think you'd even unlocked it since before Joel woke you up from your nap in the truck.

You reach over and grab it, wondering who could be calling you - and that's when your heart plummets to your stomach.

6 messages. 4 missed calls. All from your mother.

Fuck.

Are you in Dallas yet?

Let me know when you arrive.

What hotel are you staying at?

Text me back now.

Where are you?

Answer the phone.

"Shit," you whisper, "Shit, shit, shit." You scramble to type out a response, erasing typos and re-typing over and over until you wind up with something that you hope makes sense:

sorry!!! i was so tired from the drive and passed out as soon as i got in my room. i'm still half asleep, i'll talk to you more tomorrow.

How the fuck could you forget to text her?! It was the one thing you'd promised her, the one thing you weren't lying about before you left, and it had still managed to completely slip your mind. You stare at the sent message, watching a whole minute go by until her typing bubble appears, slow and steady. Finally, her reply comes in:

I told your father about Mr. Miller. We'll discuss when you get home.

Well, that's definitely not the response you'd been expecting.

Your face scrunches in confusion as you read the message again; you're not sure how it correlates at all to your lack of communication, the breaking of your promise. You suppose she'd been so worried she'd had no choice but to tell your father the "real" reason you're in Dallas - the music festival, and by proxy the lessons with Joel that "inspired" the trip in the first place. That would make sense. It's not like she has any way of knowing that you're actually here with Joel, right? No, that's illogical. You've been careful.

Okay, you know what? Good. This is good. You've wanted him to know all along. One less secret to keep, right? It's a good thing.

So why does your heart suddenly feel like it's on the floor?

You read the message again, and then again.

It's fine. Don't worry about it, it's okay.

You look up from the phone and into the mirror, eyebrows going up when you see yourself. For a moment you'd forgotten where you were, what exactly you're doing in the bathroom of a hotel room in Dallas wearing nothing but lingerie. The stark contrast of the freedom you'd felt a few moments ago and the sudden anxiety you feel now is palpable, eyes going a bit blurry as you assess yourself in the mirror again. You suddenly feel slightly disconnected from the image itself, like the person you're looking at isn't you - it can't be you, can it? Is that you?

Water, you need water. You cup your hand in the sink and turn on the tap, collecting a small pool of liquid there before bringing it to your lips. The action reminds you that you'll need to take your birth control later, a thought that sends another pang of anxiety to your already discombobulated body. Why do you need to take birth control again? Oh yeah, because you're about five minutes away from losing your virginity. To Joel. Your ears begin to ring.

Your hands shake above the sink, water dripping downwards off your hands into the much too fancy basin below. What are you doing here? Who do you think you are? You really think this is okay? You really think everything you're doing, everything you've been doing, isn't going to have major consequences? Your vision blurs.

You shut off the water and shove your trembling hands into a dry towel, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror, avoid acknowledging the way you look all together. What the fuck is wrong with you? Who are you? What have you become? Lying to your parents, resisting everything they ever taught you, doing filthy things behind their back?

The sins you've acted upon are against God, you can practically hear your father spitting at you, the behavior you've exhibited will surely leave you with nothing but a one way ticket to Hell.

Your heart pounds in your chest, much faster than normal, much faster than you think it's ever beat. So fast that you briefly think you might be having a heart attack. You clutch at your chest and fall to the floor, attempting to catch your breath and utterly failing to do so, eyes wide and panicked as you practically fight for your life on the marble tile. What the fuck is happening? Not even five minutes ago you'd been totally fine, completely ready and willing and excited, and now you want nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

"J-Joel?" you gasp out, voice echoing against the walls; it's like you're calling out for emergency assistance, a last-ditch attempt at survival. He doesn't answer - you hadn't been loud enough. You take another gasping breath and call out a bit louder, "Joel?"

You hear his voice almost immediately on the other side of the door, "I'm here, baby. You okay?"

You shut your eyes tight, head leaning back against the wall as you pull your legs up to hug against your chest. How the fuck do you even answer a question like that? No, I'm not okay. I'm completely the opposite of okay.

"I c-can't breathe," you practically spit the words out, teeth beginning to chatter.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on? Can I come in?"

You don't answer, can't answer. The knob jiggles and you silently curse yourself for locking it, "What is it, baby? What's wrong? Talk to me." You can hear the worry in his voice.

"I don't kn-know" you hiccup, hands coming up to cover your face, "I just... I just g-got really sc-scared all of a sudden."

"Oh sweetheart, that's okay." His voice is calm, soothing, reassuring. "That's alright, honey. It's okay to be scared, that's normal. That's okay."

"N-no it's not," you gasp out, hands still shaking, "I'm- I'm going to hell."

There's a beat of silence, then -

"I think you're havin' a panic attack, babygirl," you hate how muffled his voice is through the door, like he's ridiculously far away, "That's okay, I have those too. I have those all the time."

Your eyebrows go up in surprise, "Y-you do?"

"I do. And I can help you if you let me in, alright? We can get through it together, I promise."

"Y-you won't be m-mad at me?"

"Babygirl," he breathes, the tone of his voice doused in shock, "I'd never be mad at you for somethin' like that. Not now, not ever." Another knob jiggle, "Open up, sweetheart, lemme hold you."

The thought of being in his arms is the only thing that gets you off the floor, legs shaking like a baby deer as you lean against the wall for support and sidestep over to the bathroom door. With relentlessly shaky fingers you manage to unlock it, tugging it open just a little bit. He does the rest.

You barely get a look at his expression - full of concern and tenderness - before you're suddenly being scooped up into his big, warm arms. He lifts you off the floor like you weigh nothing while you bury your face in his shoulder, close your eyes and try your best to focus on the sound of his breathing, the smell of him, the way he feels. Your legs instinctively wrap around him almost like a koala as he carries you over to the couch, sits down while you cling to him in the safety of his lap.

He doesn't mention the fact that you're practically naked, doesn't ask about the lingerie or point out the little wet spot at the front of your panties where only a few minutes ago you'd started getting wet with anticipation. Instead he simply does exactly what he'd said - he holds you. He pulls you in close and rubs your back and squeezes you tightly while you try to calm your breathing, try to disconnect yourself from the panicked feelings.

"You're okay, angel" he whispers to you softly, and you just cling to him tighter, "You're safe, you're alright. Nothin' bad is gonna happen to you, honey."

Except going to hell, you want to say, but you find that your fear is already starting to ebb, being replaced with the feeling of Joel's wide palm against your back and his soothing words in your ear.

"We have all the time in the world to take this step," he murmurs softly, "I don't want you to feel any pressure, don't want you to think you have to do anything you don't wanna do."

You remember his words from the other day: Need you to know that you don't owe me anythin', not ever. But the frustrating thing is that this isn't something you feel you owe him, it's something you want to do - or at least had wanted to do, before you picked up the stupid fucking phone.

"I'm r-ruining everything," you manage to gasp out, tears still flowing relentlessly down your face, "I'm s-sorry."

"You're not ruinin' anything," he breathes, and you can hear the sincerity in the tone of his voice, "That is not the only reason we came here, sweet girl. We came here to be together, get away from everythin'." You feel him press a gentle kiss to your temple, "Now, tell me what's goin' on. What's got you so scared, baby? Talk to me."

You sniff, face still buried in the warm fabric of his shirt as you tell him about the messages, the response from your mom about telling your father, the way your heart had sunk when you fully registered what it would mean for them to really know what's going on. You realize you're getting tears and snot all over him but he doesn't seem to pay it any mind, continuing to rub your back soothingly.

"It's fine that he knows, or thinks he knows - whatever," you sniffle, "But the whole thing is just- it's just so fucked. If they knew what I was d-doing here, if they knew what I was wearing-"

"Shhh," he trails his fingers through your hair as you babble and you bury your face into his shoulder again, feeling beyond embarrassed. This is not how you'd seen this night going at all. "Shh, sweetheart, it's okay. Hey, look at me. Look at me, sweet girl."

Hesitantly, you pull your face from his shirt to peer at him from under watery lashes, his handsome face blurry through your tears. He reaches down and takes both your hands in his, squeezes them carefully.

"Follow my breathing, okay?" he tells you softly, voice barely a whisper. You watch as he closes his eyes and slowly inhales through his nose. You count about five seconds before he exhales through his mouth again, opening his eyes, "In and out, real slow like this."

It takes a few minutes to get into a good rhythm, to feel the breathing exercise really start to work, but eventually you start feeling calmer again, more yourself. As you breathe Joel continues to hold your hands in his, keeping you present, grounded. You open your eyes a few times, almost like you're making sure he's still there despite knowing you're in his lap, and each time you see his beautiful face - eyes closed over with his lashes fanning his cheeks, plump lips under greying scruff, the lines and wrinkles you want to kiss every single one of - you feel a wave of reassurance wash over you, a reminder that you're safe, you're not alone.

Once your heart has stopped beating a mile a minute, you wrap your arms around him again and nudge your head lazily into the crook of his shoulder, eyes closed as you hum softly in appreciation. He starts rubbing your back again, soft and slow.

"I don't believe in it anymore," you finally whisper quietly, "I don't. I haven't for a long time. But it's hard to remember that sometimes. It can just... it creeps up on me."

"I know," he murmurs, "I dealt with that for a while too, babygirl. It's a lot to reconcile, a lot to put in the past, I get it."

"I get scared when I think about them finding out about us," you admit softly, "Not because it'll change what we have, but because it'll change what I have with them." You bite your lip "You... you know that better than anybody."

He suddenly grimaces at your words, eyes going up to the ceiling for a few seconds before falling back to you, "I knew it," he grumbles, and your brows furrow in confusion, "I knew I shouldn't've talked about that shit with my parents today."

You shake your head immediately, "No, no, Joel, it has nothing to do with that. I wanted to know that stuff, I wanna know you."

"But it -"

"This is my own thing," you tell him softly, gaze meeting his, "This isn't because of you. You've been..." you smile through your tears, "You've been so amazing, Joel. You've helped me so much."

He brushes his nose against yours again, and with a soft sigh he murmurs, "You've helped me too, sweetheart. More than you realize."

"What d'you mean?"

You watch as he reaches beneath him to pull something out from his back pocket, adjusting you a little in his lap as he does so. He pulls out his wallet, small and brown, weathered around the edges - he's definitely had it for a while. Puzzled, your eyes fall to the tattered inside as he opens it, and you immediately spot something sitting in the compartment reserved for cash - something that catches the light, sparkles under your gaze.

"Is that my crucifix?" you ask quietly.

He nods, slipping his finger inside and pulling out the chain, the cross hanging from his fingertip. "This," he tells you, "has gotten me through two panic attacks of my own this week."

What?

He can tell you're at a bit of a loss for words, confused and surprised. With a small smile he wraps his hand around the crucifix, presses the cross into his palm, then brings it to his lips and presses a small kiss to the metal. The action doesn't make much sense to you, what with Joel being an Atheist and having never shown much interest at all in religion other than how it made you feel.

"But you don't believe in that stuff," you state, suddenly unsure.

He nods, letting his hand fall back down into his lap to touch yours, "I don't," he murmurs, "It's... it's a symbol more than anything." He takes your hand, the cross fitting directly into the center of your palm, "When I hold this, it reminds me of the beautiful girl who trusted me with it, the one sittin' so pretty and perfect in my lap right now."

You can't help but feel a bit embarrassed at his words, painfully aware of the tears drying on your puffy cheeks - you probably look a mess, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Makes me feel less alone," he tells you softly, and you swear you hear his voice hitch on the last word, "Keeps me safe."

You peer at him for a moment, processing his words. You don't really know what to say, beyond touched by the sentiment but still unsure how an object that caused you such pain and frustration could be a light in the darkness for him. How could it have a different meaning than the one it was intended for?

It's like he can sense your hesitance, your questions. He shifts you a bit in his lap, pulling you so close that his nose brushes gently against yours. "You should only believe in somethin' if it feels right," he whispers, "Only if it makes you feel like the luckiest person alive just to experience it, to be in its presence. And angel," he sighs softly, tilting forward so his forehead lightly nudges against yours, "if that ain't me about you."

"Joel," you whisper, fresh tears shining in your eyes. There's nothing else you can really say, nothing that feels right, other than the one thing you've been wanting to say since you arrived, something on the tip of your tongue begging to slip past your lips - but you don't. For now, you just think it, think it with all the warmth and adoration you feel blooming in your chest as you peer at him.

I love you.

You kiss him then, slow. His lips are soft and patient against yours, slightly hesitant, like he's holding himself back - and you suppose he is, considering the situation. He doesn't want to push, doesn't want to assume that what was meant to happen when you got back to the hotel room is still going to happen.

But you already know that it is.

You find that you can now notice the fact that your skin is bare, that he's touching you without anything being in the way, one hand cupped against the soft flesh of your hip while the other still squeezes your hand. It dawns on you that you're wearing the lingerie, the special surprise essentially ruined by your outburst. You frown against his lips.

"What is it?" he murmurs, pulling back to peer at your face, assess your expression.

"I...I bought this for you," you tell him softly, and you watch as his gaze falls to your scantily covered form, "Sorry I ruined the surprise."

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as his eyes trail up and down your body in slow, repetitive movements, like he's only just now fully noticed what you're wearing, taking in absolutely every inch of you - every little embroidered flower, every bare patch of skin. He releases your hand to carefully place both of his palms down on your thighs, the naked part between your panties and the stockings. You watch as he fingers the garter straps, eyes dark.

"Dressed up all pretty for me, huh?" he breathes, thumbs stroking your inner thighs as he brings his gaze back up to meet yours.

"I wanted it to be special," you whisper, "I wanted to wear it when you..." You trail off, mouth going a bit dry all of a sudden.

"Do you still want that, babygirl?" he asks you softly, "Do you still want me to?"

You don't even need to think about it, mull it over in your head or take another breath. You've never been more sure of anything in your life.

"Yes," you whisper, an edge of desperation in your voice, "Please." You kiss him again and he sighs deeply against your mouth, grip tightening on your thighs.

"Say it," he murmurs, teeth nipping lightly at your bottom lip, "Tell me what you want me to do, baby."

You shiver, "Want you to fuck me, Joel," your voice quakes with anticipation, hands balling in his shirt, "Please fuck me."

He doesn't need telling twice; at your words one of his big hands comes up cradle your back again, fingers digging into the soft skin there while his other slips from your thigh and curves around your ass, squeezes. He picks you up again, slips the crucifix into his pocket and stands there without moving as he peers at your face and holds you firmly against his body.

"Please," you whisper again, eyes locked with his as you whimper and buck your hips against him, feel the shape of his half-hard cock rub gently against where you're aching. He looks down without speaking, watches as you pathetically grind your hips, legs tightening around his waist.

"The sweetest girl," he says softly, leaning his face forward to kiss the corner of your mouth, "Already beggin' for my cock, huh?"

You mewl and grind your crotch against him again, already feeling the wetness returning to your panties in slow pulses. He just smiles and finally walks with you to the bed, tilts you downward and lays you out like you're a meal he's about to indulge in, swallow whole. And god, you want him to. Need him to. He pulls back to stand over you, hands going into his pockets as he peers down at you with lust in his eyes.

"Lemme just look at you, babygirl," he says quietly, eyes trailing to your breasts, your bare stomach, your exposed mound and soft thighs. He nudges you over a little bit and then sits on the side of the bed, hand reaching down to stroke one of your arms, slow and gentle, "You look so beautiful."

You lie there, staring up at his face with hooded eyes as you try not to squirm under his gaze. His hand moves from your arm to your shoulder, your shoulder to your collarbone, your collarbone to the space between your breasts. Just like you'd imagined when you'd bought it at the store, he deftly fingers the buttons there a few times, tracing them up and down.

"Pretty," he murmurs, and without warning he slowly slips his hand inside your bra, fingertips brushing your nipple. You whimper again, another surge of arousal dripping into your underwear.

"My sensitive girl," he whispers, brushing it again and smiling when your hips buck, "Are you wet, baby?"

You nod quickly, expression hazy, "Yes."

"How wet?"

Your thighs rub together almost unconsciously, another pathetic sound slipping past your lips, "Really wet, Joel."

He chuckles softly at your impatience, releases your breast and leans down to press a slow and wet kiss to your neck. You moan softly, eyes fluttering closed as his lips trail gently up and down the expanse of your neck, your chest. You feel his hands curve up underneath your back, busying themselves with the latches of your lingerie.

"As much as I could look at you wearin' this for hours," he whispers, "I think theres somethin' under there that deserves my attention." He slips the bra off easily, tugs the straps down your arms and exposes your bare breasts to him, nipples peaked and hard. He immediately captures one in his mouth and starts to suckle gently, hand traveling downward to rest teasingly on your inner thigh.

Fuck, it feels so good. Your eyes roll behind your lids, mouth popping open as you sigh in contentment and just let him play with you. He sucks and licks, nips lightly every so often, travels between both breasts like they were made specifically for him to have in his mouth. Your pussy pulses somewhere below, feeling beyond ignored, and you rub your thighs together again to try to ease some of the pressure. He notices and his hand inches upward to cup you through the material, eliciting a gasp from you.

He pulls off your nipple and you open your eyes to see him peering up at you, eyes almost black, a smirk on his face, "Need your pussy touched again, don't you baby?" You nod, lips turning downwards into a pout, "Okay, sweet girl. I won't tease you too much."

You're very much aware of the fact that Joel is still fully clothed, a fact that you have to admit turns you on a lot more than it probably should. You watch as he crawls on top of you carefully, hooks his legs around you and slowly eases downward, eyes staying locked with yours as he starts kissing his way down your stomach. Your heart rate quickens again, but this time you welcome it.

His fingers play with the straps of your garter as he presses soft kisses to the tops of your thighs, the dips of your waist. You shiver when he presses gentle kisses to your mound, fingers slipping inside the band of your lingerie and carefully tugging it down to expose your pussy to him, wet and aching. He pulls back to look at it, expression one of pure lust as he thumbs one of your lips and pushes it open.

"There she is," he murmurs, "The sweetest little pussy."

"Joel," you moan, closing your eyes and focusing entirely on the way he thumbs your outer lip, caresses it softly like it's something precious and fragile. He dips his thumb further inside and brushes against your folds, sending another thick and syrupy drop of release onto his fingers.

"Look at her pulse, baby," he says, voice husky and dark, "Droolin' for me."

You open your eyes again, watch him lean down and lick a stripe through your dripping folds, collecting the juices on his tongue. You whimper when he swallows and leans in to press a whiskery kiss to your clit, already puffy and twitching.

"She's cryin' for my cock, honey," he breathes, "Been waitin' so long, been so patient."

"Please," you whisper, and his gaze meets yours again, "Please put it in." The words are filthy and full of desperation, your brow furrowing in pleasure as his thumb slowly begins to circle your clit, "I need it."

"I know, sweet girl," he whispers, "But you gotta wait just a little bit longer, gotta let me taste this perfect little cunt first," he presses kisses along your folds, kitten licks past them a bit to slip the tip of his tongue just barely inside your hole. You whine, hand coming down to touch his hair while the other grabs one of your breasts and begins to toy with your nipple, as if on instinct.

He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, hands coming up to grip your waist and hold you still as he starts to eat you out. Just like the first time, it's beyond overwhelming, your eyes shutting tight and your teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip as his mouth does sinful things to the most intimate part of you. He plunges his tongue inside and buries the curve of his nose in your clit, rubbing it up and down, back and forth, while you whine and whimper above him. Your fingers tangle in his hair and holds his face firm between your legs while he tastes and devours.

"Joel," you keep whimpering, unable to stop from saying his name every chance you get, a reminder to yourself that you're really here with him right now, that he's the one making you feel this way. He barely pulls up for breath, scruff glistening with your release as he pleasures you relentlessly, arm coming up to splay across your belly and push you down into the mattress, holding you firm.

He makes you come easily, but that's no surprise. Just like in the truck earlier, you cry out and toss your head back, body shaking through your orgasm as he sucks on your clit and slips one of his fingers easily inside of you, curves it and makes your body rise up off the bed in pleasure as you shiver and squirm.

"Good girl," he tells you softly when he releases your clit from his mouth, looks up at you with dark lips and messy hair, "That's my good girl."

Only for you Joel, you want to whisper, but you're too blissed out to speak, Only wanna be a good girl for you.

You feel him press soothing kisses around your pussy, finger still slowly pumping in and out as you calm your breathing. He pulls it out and brings it to his lips, sucks it with a deep groan, "God, you taste so good," he murmurs, resting his head for a moment on your thigh and inhaling deeply, "So fuckin' sweet, babygirl."

You remember the first time he'd tasted you, remember how you'd come so hard you'd seen stars, remember how he'd come in his pants. The thought makes you sit up on your hands, look down at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you come?" you ask, slightly worried for a moment.

He laughs, pulls his head up and begins to crawl back to you with a smile on his face, "No, not this time. That was a moment of weakness." He cups your face and and looks down at you with a soft expression, "You wanna taste yourself?"

Without any hesitation, you nod. Joel leans down and presses his lips to yours, eases his tongue inside and lets you indulge in your own release, your own special flavor. You've never really tasted anything like it before, unsure how exactly to describe it - you're not sure you'd really call it sweet, but it's not bad by any means, just... different.

"Good?" he asks.

You shrug, "It's... interesting."

He chuckles, pulling his face back, "How're you feelin'? You wanna stop?" You look up at him like he's crazy and he laughs again, putting his hands up, "Okay, okay, just askin'."

"I want-" you cut yourself off, feeling blood rush to your cheeks, and he peers down at you softly.

"What d'you want, babygirl?" he murmurs, "I'll give it to you."

You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, finger the buttons there, "I want this off," you breathe, "Want all of it off."

He nods slowly, eyes hooded as his eyes fall to your wet lips, "Okay, what else?"

"Want you to fuck me," you whisper again, as if he doesn't already know. Your hand reaches downward to carefully cup the long shape of him through his pants with trembling fingers, "Want it inside."

He reaches down, covers your hand with his and squeezes softly, "You want what inside, baby? Words."

"Your cock," you whisper, edged with a whine, "Want your cock inside me, Joel. Please. No more teasing."

He smiles softly, "Okay, baby. No more teasin'."

Watching him undress sends tingles all throughout your body, lips parting as he undoes the buttons of his shirt and tosses it to the floor, reaches for his belt buckle and slowly starts to unfurl it. He keeps his eyes on your face, watches your expression as you bite your lip and assess the way his cock juts out underneath his pants, begging to be taken out and touched, played with. The thought makes you sit up on the bed, lean toward the edge and dig a few of your fingers into his waistband, pulling him closer.

He watches as you slowly move forward to mouth his cock through his pants, lips parting and stretching around the big shape. You sigh in contentment at the feeling of it pulsing through the material against your tongue, drag your mouth up and down a few times as a whimper gurgles in your throat.

"Thought you said no more teasin'," he murmurs, and you feel his hand come to rest at the back of your head, helping you move. You moan softly around his length and you can practically hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Just need it so bad, don't you?"

You do. You can't count the number of days you've thought about it now, thought about it against your face, your thighs, your pussy. You want it everywhere - you want him everywhere. You've waited so long and you're tired of being patient, of waiting for the right time, the right moment. It's here, it's now, and you're ready.

"Please," you breathe again, pulling your mouth off his clothed cock and looking up at him with wide, almost tear-filled eyes, "Please fuck me, Mr. Miller."

His eyes go dark and the smile fades from his lips, hands coming down to unzip and unbutton quickly as you lay back on the bed and open your legs. It takes no time at all for him to be completely naked, pants and underwear thrown haphazardly off to the side while he crawls back on top of you and starts kissing your neck again, skin rough and warm. Your hands come up to grip his bare back, eyes closing as you let him silently worship you, kiss every inch of skin he can reach.

You can feel the heavy length of him on your thigh, settled there as it pulses and leaks. It's so big, so thick, and you can't help but reach down and engulf it in your small fist, fingers still unable to go all the way around. He groans into your skin, pulls back to look at you again.

"D'you want me to use a condom, babygirl?" he asks, even though he knows the answer - he wants to hear you say it, which you appreciate.

"No," you whisper, "Please don't."

He groans again at your words, reaches his hand down and easily slips two of his fingers inside of you without any resistance. You're so ready, have never felt more ready for anything in your entire life. You know you should be reveling in the moment, taking time to enjoy and appreciate - but at the same time you just want him inside of you already, want to be connected to him in the rawest of ways, complete. You can't wait anymore, you can't. He starts to add his third finger and you whine, wishing it was something else.

"Gotta open you up a little more, sweetheart," he tells you quietly, filling you with all three fingers and slowly starting to pump them in and out, "Want this to feel good for you, don't wanna hurt you."

"I want your cock, Joel," you mewl, tears welling in your eyes.

"Shhh," he kisses you gently, fucks you slow, "I know, baby, I know. Just a minute now, sweetheart. Be patient for me."

"Don't wanna be patient," you're starting to sound like a bit of a brat but you really don't care, the desperate and touch-starved part of you just aching to be filled up, held close, fucked deep. "Wanna feel you in my stomach, please."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, almost a groan as he pulls his fingers from you and drags them against his cock, taking it from you carefully and then pumping himself twice with your release, "Okay, babygirl, I hear you, I got you."

Joel eases himself downwards carefully, hovering over you like he had last weekend. He kisses you again, soft and safe, a quiet reminder that what's about to happen means more than what it seems like on paper, means more than either of you could even articulate. He peers into your eyes tenderly, reaches up to push some stray hairs out of your face.

"I'm gonna go real slow," he tells you, "You tell me the second somethin' doesn't feel right, okay? Promise me."

"I promise," you whisper, hands splaying across his back and pulling him down further so your breasts are pushing softly against the hair on his chest, impossibly close. You just wanna feel him, feel all of him.

When he says slow - he means slow.

You'd felt the tip of him last weekend, were already anticipating the burn and stretch, but this time there's not the same desperation, the same time limit or rush. Now you have all the time in the world, the clarity to take it as slowly as you need to in order to really feel everything, make it count. You feel the shape of his wide head carefully nudge the tiniest bit into your throbbing heat, and your eyes immediately go wide.

"You're okay," he reminds you softly, just like he had last time, "You're alright, angel."

Your nails dig into his back and you nod, peering up at him with a look that you hope says, I know, and I trust you, because you do. He kisses you gently and you feel his hand at your thigh, pushing you open a little wider for easier access. The garter strap strains against your legs but neither of you make any move to remove it.

He pushes inside a little further, his whole tip crowding the space at your entrance once again. You make an odd sound, something that comes from the back of your throat, and he freezes.

"Okay?" he asks, and you frantically nod. "That's the tip of me, baby. You got it, you're doin' so good."

"More," you whisper, voice breaking, "More, please."

He reaches his hand back up and locks it into place on the headboard above you, holds himself up as his knees dig into the plush cotton of the duvet. With his other hand he slowly eases more of his cock inside, just a little bit.

"Fuck," you hiss, and you can feel it now - the burn, the stretch. It's not painful by any means, but it's not comfortable either. You make a face and Joel stills, brow furrowing.

"Hurts?" he asks softly.

"N-not really," you breathe, "It's just - it's really thick."

He kisses you again, noses the side of your face and inhales deeply, "You tell me when to move," he murmurs, "You're in control from this point forward, babygirl. What you say goes."

You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed as you hold Joel to you and revel in the way he peppers tiny little kisses all over your face, your nose, your eyelids. Now it's his turn to be patient, and he's certainly much better at it than you are.

"Okay," you breathe after a moment, "Okay, you can move."

He inches in another little bit and your hips stutter, hands trembling against his back. You don't say anything, just grip him tighter and bite down on your lip - more stretch, more burn. But there's something about it, something about the odd sensation of being spread open, that has your pussy suddenly throbbing - and you whine.

"Tell me to pull out and I will," he murmurs in your ear, "We can spend some more time-"

"No," you whimper, shaking your head, "No, Joel. It feels good." You grip tighter to him and tangle your ankles with his, wanting to be even closer than you already are, "Keep going, please."

It goes like that for a while - a continuous push, inch by inch, a whine or whimper, a check-in from Joel, reassurance that you're alright, then the cycle starts again. You quickly grow accustomed to his girth, the stretch getting significantly less and less the longer he stays pressed inside of you. You're painfully aware that this probably isn't the sexiest experience for him, that he'd probably much prefer being able to go deep and stay deep and pound you senseless - and as much as that thought also appeals to you, you know there's no way your body could handle it on the first go.

"M'sorry," you mumble to him quietly during another moment of adjustment, both of you laying still while a little more than half his cock sits patiently inside of you.

"For what?" his eyes scrunch, confusion clear on his face.

"F-for taking forever to get used to it," you admit apologetically, eyes going downcast, "Especially after I begged so many times."

He shakes his head, eyes narrowing, "Do not apologize for somethin' like that, sweetheart. This is about you, not me."

"But I'm-" you take a breath, forcing yourself to be honest, to not keep your worries inside no matter what, especially in such an intimate moment like this, "I'm scared you're not enjoying yourself."

His eyes widen, "Not enjoyin' myself?" He almost laughs, light and soft, "Sweetheart, do you have any idea how fuckin' good you feel?" You shake your head and he leans down to kiss you, moans softly against your lips, "Your pussy's so tight around me, sweet girl" he whispers, "She's pulsin' around my cock, it feels fuckin' incredible."

Your thighs tighten a bit against his waist, center throbbing once again at his words. He groans, and it finally sets in that every throb you feel, every pulsation, every twitch, he can feel it too. Because he's inside of you.

"You're inside me," you whisper, and it sounds like such a dumb revelation but you don't care, lip trembling a little bit as your fingers stroke gently against his back.

"I'm inside you," he echoes, voice soft and reassuring, "M'not goin' anywhere, baby. Gonna take it as slow as you need me to."

He's so gentle, so tender, it makes you want to cry. How did you get so lucky to be having your first time with someone like this? Someone who genuinely wants you to feel good, feel taken care of? Someone who feels beyond amazing? His cock is so big, so perfect; he feeds it to you over the next few minutes, makes you whine and cry out in the dim light of the hotel room, legs trembling and hands coming up to cover your eyes as he finally bottoms out, finally eases himself completely inside of you - and stills.

Full. You're so full. It's the only word that seems to cross your mind, any and all other vocabulary going completely out the window the longer you lay there with his cock buried deep inside. He carefully pulls your hands back from your face and kisses you again and again, murmuring praise.

"You're doin' so good, angel," he whispers, "Takin' it so well, such a good girl."

It's not that filthy of a thing to say, but his words do something to you then that you can't really explain. Odd sounds escape your throat, slip past your lips pathetically as you squirm a bit beneath him. Your eyes shut tight, heart beating fast, not a thought in your brain other than the fact that there's a huge appendage lodged so deep inside of you that you can't even think, can't speak.

"I know," he's whispering, carding his fingers through your hair, "I know, baby. That cock is so big, I know, I know," he kisses your temple, holds you close, "So big inside that little pussy."

"Joel," is all you manage to whimper out, toes curling in pleasure, "Joel."

"I know," he murmurs again, and you swear he pushes his hips forward just a little bit more, the heavy shape of his balls pressing firmly against your ass, "I'm in your tummy, baby, just like you wanted."

At his words your shaky hand travels downward to feel your stomach, press your palm against the skin there, and your eyes snap open when you realize you can feel him there - near the bottom of your tummy, feel the long and thick shape of him bulging out from beneath.

"Fuck," you breathe, and his eyes meet yours, dark and hungry, "Fuck, I f-feel it."

His hand comes down and covers yours, helps you move the garter belt out of the way to shape your fingers around the long shape of him. You can feel the fat head pulsing deep within you, pushing against something you didn't even know was there, every throb sending constant gushes of release around his cock. You must be a mess down there, slick dripping down your thighs as you whine again and reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"Ohmygod," the words are almost slurred, garbled, and you're realizing very quickly that talking with a cock inside of you is very difficult. Your thighs squeeze together again and Joel groans.

"God, you feel so fuckin' incredible," his expression is wrecked, plump lips parted as he inhales and exhales, "You're chokin' my cock, honey."

You can't wrap your mind around the fact that this isn't it, that simply having his cock buried deep inside you isn't the actual sex itself. Because how can just this feel so good? How can you feel so close, so full, so wonderful, all from just this?

Joel leans down and buries his face in the pillow, nudges his nose to your ear and whispers, "D'you want me to move, babygirl?" to which you immediately respond, "Yes."

At your okay he slowly eases himself out of you, the sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before as inch by inch he leaves your body until just the head sits heavy and waiting at your entrance. He looks down at you, thumbs your cheek, and murmurs, "Who's my good girl?"

You shiver, moan softly, eyes closing again, "I am," you whisper.

Just as slow, he pushes himself back inside, and you cry out and bury your face into his neck, legs shaking.

"Who is?" he asks you again, burying himself to the hilt and stroking up and down your naked body gently with one hand, "Who's my good girl? Tell me again, angel."

"I am," you repeat, a bit louder this time and drenched in pleasure as he slowly pulls out again, leaving you almost empty. "Joel," you whisper, and he pulls his face back to look at you, nipping at your bottom lip and pouting at your already fucked-out expression, "Joel, it feels so good."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, then eases himself back in, brings your hands down to your stomach again to feel the way his cock protrudes lewdly against the skin, "You're takin' it so well."

"I-I've-" you whimper, tears overflowing, "I've n-never-"

I've never felt like this before, you want to say. I've never felt so close to another human in my life. I've never wanted to live in a moment more than I want to live in this one.

Instead, he just brings a finger to your lips, eases himself out again and murmurs, "I know," like it's a mantra, "I know."

You feel him thumb your clit and you can't believe that anything could feel this good, that anything could even compare to the way it feels to have Joel everywhere like this, so deep inside and above and all around, his scent lingering in every move he makes, his hair pressing firm to the softest parts of your body. He's so warm, so safe, and more than anything all you can think about is that thought from before, the one you know now to be absolute - I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He keeps the pace slow, doesn't let go of you or pull away even once. You already know you're not gonna last, not with his thumb rubbing you like that and his cock so unrelenting and huge inside of you, filling you up in a way you never thought possible. You're pretty sure that you've only got one more orgasm left in you tonight but you don't feel worried or stressed out by that fact - you have a whole weekend for more of this, to explore and experience and enjoy.

"I'm gonna come, Joel," you breathe, and you can feel tears stinging your eyes as you say the words, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come."

"Okay, baby, that's it," he encourages you softly, thumb unrelenting against your clit, "Lemme feel you come, angel. Let it out for me. Give it to me, sweetheart." And you do.

Coming around his cock feels fucking incredible. Your pussy tightens and throbs, releases more slick than you could even imagine, and you feel yourself start to cry, tears flowing down your face as a sob wracks from your throat as you pull him down on top of you. He fucks you through it, groaning in your ear at the way you continue to choke his cock, tight and firm.

"Fuck," he groans, "Fuck, angel, I don't think I can last."

"Then don't," you cry into his ear, eyes shut tight as your body convulses, "Don't wait, Joel. Want you to come inside me, want it so bad."

He makes an unhinged noise, his thrusts becoming a little faster, a little more erratic. Without warning you kick your legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer and letting out another loud moan when you both hear the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. He's so deep. So, so, so deep. Just like he said he'd be.

"Fuck," he mumbles in your ear, "Fuck, I'm comin', honey, I'm comin'." At his words you feel the massive length of him pulse deep inside, your walls constricting around the intrusive shape as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth opening in a silent gasp of pleasure as you feel the warm spurts of his come begin to coat your walls, filling you up.

"Joel," you breathe, and you're pretty sure your nails have broken the skin of his back but he doesn't seem to care - if anything it makes him groan even louder, makes him pull back to look at you and make direct eye contact as he empties himself. You stare at each other, eyes wide, lips parted, and he leans forward to press his forehead to yours as his jaw clenches.

The moment he's finished coming he falls on top of you with his entire body weight, something you welcome instantly. Your hands roam up and down his back, feel the crescent moon shapes lining his skin as you close your eyes and let the reality of what's just happened wash over you, settle into your very being. It's only when you shift a little underneath him that Joel finally pulls himself up to look at you. He's so beautiful, hair a mess, lips red and raw, cheeks flushed, and tears shining in his soft brown eyes. He nuzzles his nose against yours and breathes a long sigh, one of satisfaction and contentment.

"Stay inside me," you whisper. You don't know why it's the first thing you say, but somehow it feels like the most important. Because the idea of him separating from you now after what you've just shared, the idea of not being within his embrace or feeling as connected as you feel right now - it sounds like the worst thing in the world.

"Okay, angel," he murmurs, eyes sleepy, "M'not goin' anywhere."

You close your eyes, breathe him in.

I love you.

[dailydoseofsluttythoughts]

♡ Not Finished ♡

"You cryin' doll?" He teased, smirking at the streaks of mascara you were leaving behind as you pressed your face harder into the couch cushion. He'd worry about the stains later. For now it's all about you.

He's been pounding your sweet little pussy non-stop for the last 15 minutes. He'd gotten tired of playing his video game and finally turned his concentration to you.

Nothing about this man is small either. Not his devotion to you, nor the size of his cock. He sets a pace that is down right brutal. With the only sound leaving your mouth being screams of pleasure, timed precisely with his harsh thrusts.

"S'too b-big" you stuttered out, tiny hands gripping the blanket you had been cuddling up with whilst you watched Aoi play Fallout. He loved the game but he loved you more. He'd seen you squirming out of the corner of his eye the whole time.

"Seen you take toys bigger than this baby, so yer' gonna take what I give you. Or are you not my good little girl?" His question had your eyes popping open as you shook your head side-to-side, smearing more mascara along the couch. "No, m' a good girl, I can take it!" You proclaimed, the only thought in your head is to take his cock as well as you can.

Aoi shifted his position and placed one of his knees on the couch while his other leg stayed put. The angle forced his cock to ram up against that sweet spongey spot that damn near made your vision go white. "Fuck, right there baby, right fucking there, don't stop"

Your screeching did nothing but spur him on more, his hips drilling into you harder with each deep stroke. His girth was filling you up more satisfyingly than any toy you've played with.

This wasn't normal Aoi behavior either. Normally he was gentle and patient, but sometimes, if he was pent up enough, you would end up like this. Face down ass up, and letting him take you for whatever he wanted.

His right hand rose into the air and came crashing down on your ass check, jiggling the soft flesh and leaving a pleasant sting where it had made contact.

"Tha's it baby girl, such a good slut f'me, taking my cock so well, without any prep too. I'll be sure to give you a nice big reward after this" He uttered out, in between thrusts. Chasing his own release as well as yours becoming his next goal.

His thrusts were sporadic and rough as he gripped the flesh of your waist tighter, bringing your ass back to meet the slap of his thighs.

"Aoi, m'gunna cum, keep going, keep going.." He was knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Your mouth just repeating those words like it's your own personal mantra.

"Oh yeah? Make a mess for me baby" His voice deepened slightly, a trait you had come to love, and you could tell he was close to his orgasm.

"fffuuck, Yesss" sheer bliss consumed your body, and the pounding of his cock never ceased as waves of pleasure rolled over your body. Aoi's hand came down to rub quick back and forth motions on your swollen, puffy clit, sending you deeper into your release, as a clear, sticky liquid gushed out of your cunt. This pushed him into the throws of his own release.

Thick, hot spurts of cum roped into your pussy as his thrusting slowed to a stop. Heavy breathing was all that you could hear before he slowly pulled his softening dick out of your abused hole.

Aoi flipped you over onto the dryest part of the couch and walked out of the room to the kitchen. He returned with a glass of ice water and a warm towel.

Getting on his knees in front of you he carefully wiped the remnants of your spend off of your thighs, and legs before softly dabbing your aching pussy.

"Thank you Aoi" Even though your head was cloudy and you could barley form a thought, your first instinct was to thank him.

"Hell'r you thanking me for, jus' doin' ma job" He replied, clapping his hands softly to replace one of the ice cubes in ur drink for a straw, knowing you can't bring yourself to lift the cup for that long.

"Did I... Did I take it too far?" He asked, not realy knowing if he wanted to know the answer.

"Of course not baby, that was amazing" You smiled softly as you spoke.

"Oh okay, good.. But you know what that means, right?"

"What?"

"Means I'm not finished with you" He smirked.

And that's a wrap for my first post‼️‼️hope y'all had fun reading bc I had fun writing😋

[teyvathandymenclub]

Good Morning

Story: You have just spent your first night together and the obvious nervousness comes in with a bang. Will he like me without makeup? I need to keep mints close to me to hide my morning dragon breath. Should I put on some mascara at least? 

Characters: Diluc, Alhaitham

TW: Beware! Fluff.

Diluc

You have promised yourself that you will wake up before him. And somehow you did. When you opened your eyes, the sun was still pretty low and the room was filled with Diluc´s deep calm breathing. Slowly raising your head you checked his chest. You have been sleeping on him the whole night so the possibility of you salivating on him was pretty high. 

It is fine. Thank god. You sigh with relief.

For a second you got stuck because you could not stop staring at him. He looks so peaceful, but authoritative at the same time. Diluc has this aura of confidence and stoicism that you have never seen in other men. He could have every woman in the Teyvat but he chose you. Your heart flutters. 

I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I will do everything to prove to you that I am worthy of you. 

With that, you stood up and tip-toed out of the bedroom.

"Are you trying to run away from me?" 

Diluc´s voice stopped you right when you were about to reach the doorknob. Heart in your chest started racing and all you could hear was your blood rushing through your veins.

"If I disappointed you somehow last night, you can tell me straight away."

"No!" You almost screamed too ashamed to look at him.

"Then where are you going? I was excited to wake up to you sleeping in my arms."

"Me too! I just need to… Use the toilet. If that is ok."

"Of Course, it is ok." Diluc chuckled with relief as he stood up. "I will show you the way."

"No! Umm… I will find it by myself."

"Y/N, what is going on?" He frowned. "Why you did not look at me once."

You wanted to protest even more, but before you were able to find new excuses, Diluc took your chin and raised your head so he could look you directly in the eyes.

After a short moment, you cracked under his gaze, just like last night.

"I did not want you to see me like this." You finally admit.

"Like what?" Diluc looked at you and scanned you from head to toe.

"No makeup, messy hair, puffy face…"

"Stop it, please." Diluc hushed you with a voice filled with amusement and disappointment at the same time.

"I am sorry." You whisper.

"For what? That I did not show you my affection the same way I feel it here?" He took your hand and placed it on the bare skin of his chest. "Can you forgive me for leaving room for so many doubts? My dear, I have traveled most of our world and I have never met someone like you. Do not ever doubt my affection for you. For any version of you. With messy hair, with whatever makeup you do not wear. I do not care. "

"But…"

You tried to protest, but he immediately stopped you with raised brows that said more than enough.

"With that settled, how did you sleep?" Diluc smiled as he hid you in his embrace.

Alhaitham

Last night was everything but what you have expected from a man who presented himself the way he did. Where did those passionate touches and kisses come from?

Never even in your wildest dreams, you dreamed about being smothered with so much affection. Even though you did not want to admit it, you felt addicted. Men are usually a source of disappointment in your life. How could you score an intelligent gentleman with ways that can make your toes curl from… Well, let's call it happiness.

It would be such a shame to scare him away with my morning state. I should freshen up a little. 

You debated with yourself a little before you took your chance. As you carefully moved away his hand wrapped around your waist and tried to stand up, Alhaitham deeply growled. His grip around your body tightened. Who would have thought that he would be into spooning so much?

"What is so funny?" He asked after you chuckled a little.

"Just wondering if I could be the big spoon now."

"No." Alhaitham murmured into your neck without hesitation.

"Can I at least go to the bathroom? Pretty please?"

"So you would let me here with nothing but your scent stuck to my skin?"

"Awwwww." You smiled. "But... Do you want me to pee here?"

"You are free to go wherever you want!" Alhaitham said while dramatically pushing you away from him. 

After you gave him your best fake sad stare you quickly left to deal with some important business in the bathroom. When you finally came back, Alhaitham was already sitting in the bed leaning against the headboard reading something.

"And I thought that I had bad bed hair." You laugh.

"You probably had. You have been gone for almost half an hour."

"You did not!" You audibly gasped before you jumped at him.

"Why… Oh god…" Alhaitham growled as he maneuvered you down from him. "...do you have so much energy this early in the morning? If I knew I would never invite you over."

"REALLY?!" You froze.

"Of Course not." He smiled sheepishly as he pinned you down to kiss you oh so sweetly.

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 16.3k (dont say anything)

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, Stripper!Billy, Stripper!Steve, sensual dancing, smut (i won't spoil it)

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You have a date, but it doesn't go as you thought it would. Friends are always there to bring a smile to your face, and Eddie gets the reason of why the date went wrong, ending with him helping you in a very special way.

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took! But it's finally here, and it's long, and I hope it's up to everyone's expectations! I am happy I got so much response on this fic, from people I admire, as well as to all of you who decided to start reading it. Thank you!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!

PART 5

Your breath was heavy as you stared up at the ceiling with a sheen of sweat over your forehead. 

You almost never did this, but lately there was a need for it like never before. You didn’t even know what you were imagining, or who you were picturing, but you never felt so carnal before, so needy, and it all started since you kissed Eddie. It was as if there was a switch inside of you, and he just turned it on, and now it’s unstoppable.

When was the last time you actually had sex? It had to be over two years now, because that’s the last relationship you had with a man. You could handle it for two months only. You always went for the same kind. Introverts. Rarely go out, probably gamers that spend their nights and days on the computer, so it was a win win for you. You got to satisfy that primal part of you, and you barely had to see them.

And you don’t even enjoy it, or at least that’s what you think but now, for some reason, and out of nowhere you are craving for it. The only explanation for that is because you now know you can talk to people you find attractive and you might have a shot at it. Should you download those dating apps Robin uses? 

You look at the clock and realize you have just half an hour to prepare your coffee and get on the computer for work. Your eyes slightly widen and you sit up, almost throwing your vibrator to the ground.

“Shit!” You didn’t intend to touch yourself in the morning like this, but you awoke at 8 and for some reason you were restless. You didn’t know why, because you had actually touched yourself the day before, and two days before that. You were being insatiable and you don’t know how to stop it. 

But now, thanks to that, you were rushing out of bed to put on a nice shirt but keeping your pajama bottoms on, just in case you have a meeting today, and try to wake yourself up in the bathroom, washing your face as quick as possible, and brushing your hair. You put some mascara on, and rushed out of the bathroom to finally start your pot of coffee. You walked towards your desk that was in a corner of your living room, and opened up your laptop, ready to log on to work.

When you finally had your cup of coffee and you were working away on the computer, you could finally relax. You put on some jazz music just to fill the background with something as you worked the day away. You had some lunch, making a quick tuna salad to fill your stomach as you looked at your phone, scrolling on instagram.

You had a message from Eddie, and when you opened it, it was a video of a horse where the owner asks if he is going to be a good boy today, and the horse simply turns, farts on the camera and runs away. You almost snorted out the water you were drinking, swallowing it quickly to start laughing at it, double tapping the video for a like.

It was friday, so maybe you can go to Eddie’s today, maybe hang out with the other guys if they’re available, invite Robin too. You were happy that she and Steve were getting along, and even if they insult each other on a daily basis, it was always in an endearing way. Almost. 

For over a month you’ve been over the moon with your new found friends, and also a panging sense of guilt filled your gut for not telling your other friends. You’ve gotten together with them, and you had to bite your tongue from your excitement whenever they said about going out at night but for your sake they decided to simply have dinner at a bar, or restaurant.

You went to Eddie’s messages, and you honestly believed that after your kiss everything would be awkward, but actually, you felt as if you two had gotten closer. The messages were more recurring, and now sometimes he messaged you good morning if he woke up early enough. This was not one of the times, so he must have worked till late last night.

You blushed as you thought about that, because there was a part of you that was intrigued if you would still faint at seeing them strip in front of you. When you remember that night, you don’t feel as flustered as you felt some weeks back. You knew you would be nervous, but it didn’t feel as gut wrenching as before.

You were about to say good afternoon to Eddie until a notification popped up in your laptop. You put the phone down to see who messaged you, seeing it was one of your coworkers asking for help with something. You read what he had been having troubles with and realized it’s not something you can help him with via text. Austin wasn’t a bad guy, and he almost never asked for your help, barely talked to him during meetings, which you were now putting your camera on unlike previous times.

So you decided you would open up a video call with a presentation to actually help him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but it was something you knew how to do. You fixed yourself a bit in front of the camera and took a deep breath in before calling him. It rang just three times and then he came into view, knocking your breath just a bit.

You saw him at the meetings a few times, but he always looked tidy, with his hair pulled back and a nice button up shirt on. Since you didn’t have any formal meetings today, he had decided to wear a casual black T-Shirt, and his blonde hair was a little messy, but it was casual messy. His eyes were greenish from what you could see, and unlike the times you’ve seen him, there was a beard on his face now.

In one word, Austin was gorgeous, and he made you straighten up on your chair a bit.

“Hey there, sorry to bother you with this, really.” He starts, rubbing his cheek in embarrassment. You shook your head and smiled softly into the camera.

“No, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything particularly important, so don’t worry about it.” He smiles back and gives you a nod. That gave you the que to start explaining to him, pulling the sharing screen feature to show him the practice of it as well. He asked a few questions of course, but you didn’t mind the interruption really, and you found yourself being able to talk without stuttering or stopping at any point. 

“So it was that easy… Look, or I’m a complete idiot for not understanding the manual or–”

“The manual is outdated Austin.” You giggled at him and he squinted slightly to the camera with a soft smile to his face as he looked at you.

“Hey, I think this is like… The first time I ever talked to you, apart from the meetings of course.” He says and that made you slightly nervous, but a good nervous, knowing he was engaging in conversation and that you actually felt like continuing it.

“Yeah, I am not the talkative kind–” You see him squinting intently into the camera and you tilt your head at him, wondering what he is looking at.

“Is that the collection of Harry Potter in your library?” He points and your eyes widen, looking behind you, the library on full display and the 7 books in chronological order and different sizes and colors must have given it away. You turn your head to look at him with a smile and nod.

“Yeah– Kind of obsessed with it really.” He smiles widely into the camera and puts his wrist up and you look into the screen to see a wand tattooed on his skin, making you widen your eyes with a surprised look on your face. “Holy shit.” He laughs at your cussing and you felt yourself blush for doing so, but he wasn’t showing signs of disgust or being uncomfortable at that.

“Same here, read the books since very little. I know there’s controversy now with it, but I can’t fight my childhood really.” He says and you know exactly what he is talking about, feeling the same way about it. You give him a nod, with a smile on your face and you bite your bottom lip with curiosity in your eyes.

“Yeah, I get that…” He squints slightly at you with a playful smile on his face as he scoots closer in the camera.

“You look like you have something to ask me.” You catch the way his face changed when talking to you from the beginning, letting the butterflies in your belly break loose. 

“I was going to ask you what house you’re in.” You ask and he thinks for a moment, and you widen your eyes because he wasn’t telling you right away.

“Mmm… I could tell you, or I could let you figure me out.” 

Oh.

Oh. He was flirting with you. 

Your heart was beating wildly now, not expecting the call to turn this way at all, and you were almost speechless at it. You have to be brave, a cute guy was openly flirting with you, a cute guy who is not Eddie, or Steve, or Billy! He is not helping you with anything, he is flirting with you because he wants to!

“And can you figure me out?” You ask back, tilting your head slightly and he smiled at the reciprocated flirting. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean, I think it would be easier in person… Maybe tonight, after work, like an after office kind of thing?” He asks you and you feel the beating of your heart in your throat, trying to settle your breathing down. He was asking you out, on a date, a date with a cute guy. What should you do? Should you say yes? No? But this is what you wanted, you have to remind yourself that this is why you asked for help in the first place.

“U-Um, sure! We can meet up somewhere?” You ask him and he gives you a nod with a smile to his face.

“Sounds great, put your phone down on the chat so I can message you later, because fucking Lorraine is blasting my notifications right now with something.” He rolled his eyes and you giggled at that, knowing how annoying that coworker is. You bit your lip as you went to his chat and typed in your cell phone number and he smiled at the camera once he received it.

“So, see you later I guess?” He gives you a nod and a small wave.

“See you later.” And like that the call ended.

You let out a sharp breath, like a loud huff, letting your lungs decompress because you couldn’t believe it. You were stunned, sitting at your desk, looking at the computer as if it were the most incredible thing you’ve seen in your life. 

You had a date.

You got yourself a date. By yourself. By being yourself and just you, no excessive make up was required. A wide smile spread on your lips as you squealed with flushed cheeks towards the ceiling. You would go out with a cute guy, finally. Your breath was heavy as your stomach bounced with nervousness, excitement, nausea, everything but you didn’t care. 

You grabbed your phone and unlocked it, and as soon as you saw where it was unlocked, you felt your stomach slightly drop. Eddie had sent you a good afternoon himself, with a tired smiley face. You bit your bottom lip, gulping as you wrote good afternoon back to him, and for some reason you didn’t want to tell him about this date.

You thought he would be the first person you would like to tell this to, but there was a feeling in the mouth of your stomach that didn’t let you. You really don’t know why, but you just felt uncomfortable telling him something like this. Why? Why would it be weird to tell him this? Your brain was trying to find a solution, but in the meantime, you changed from Eddie’s messages to Robin’s.

‘Come to my house, ASAP.’

And that’s all Robin Buckley needed to head upstairs with her work laptop in her arm, barging through your door. 

“This better be fucking goo–” 

“I have a date!” And Robin almost dropped her laptop to the floor at the news, looking at you with a completely stunned look on her face, features not even moving as you stared at her with widened eyes, waiting for her response. Suddenly, like getting hit by a brick, the realization dawned on you. “Oh… Oh shit, I have a date… I have a date Robin, what do I do?”

Your stomach started flipping over now that it all sank in. It happened way too fast, and out of nowhere, and now it was happening. In a few hours you would meet up with a cute guy and you didn’t know what to really do. What did you have to expect? Should you expect more than a kiss? Should you shave? Should you put on your lingerie or not? Do people do that on the first date? But you did want to feel good, so what is wrong with that? But wouldn’t it be desperate–

“Hang on!” You heard Robin yell and you realized you were pacing around the room, holding onto your head completely exasperated. You turned to look at her with a panicked look on your face and she quickly put the laptop on your counter and walked towards you, grabbing your hand to center you back to earth. “You’re going on a date?!” 

You quickly nod your head, feeling your cheeks burn as well as your entire body feeling like lava was being poured on you. Oh god, you were going with a stranger, well not a complete stranger, he’s been working in the same area for almost five months now, he looks tidy, his name is Austin, yeah, you can work with that, and he–

“He likes Harry Potter! He has a wand tattooed on his arm!” You say excitedly and now Robin knows exactly why you agreed so quickly. Nevertheless she jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands at you. She never thought she’d see the day you would go on a date, and much less with–

“Wait, wait… is he hot?” She asks and you nod wildly, going towards your work computer and putting up his work profile. He had a suit on with his hair moussed back but his features were the same. Robin’s eyes almost bulged out of her sockets as she looked at the man. “Holy fucking shit… From work!?”

“Y-Yeah… It’s not going to be a problem right? Oh… Oh there might be, what if it doesn’t work out Robin? I mean, what if I fuck it up, and I embarrass myself and he doesn’t want to talk to me–” 

“Then you two stay friends!” She immediately cut your rambling off, turning to look at you with a smile to her face. “Not every man is a douche bag, and if it doesn’t work out, it just doesn’t and you two go back to being coworkers, but THIS, is a big fucking step!” She says excitedly, making you smile to match her energy, despite the ongoing nervousness in your belly. 

“Yeah, I’m… a little excited too… Really nervous, but excited.” You say to her and she bites her bottom lip, grabbing her phone from her back pocket, looking for Steve’s contact, pressing the video call button, jumping up and down slightly.

“I can’t wait to tell Steve! I mean I bet you already told Eddie, so–”

“WAIT!” You yell but it was too late. You could hear the sound of the video call starting and your blood drained out of your body, and your stomach was turning all around. 

“Robin, what-sha wantsh?” You hear Steve mumble and Robin makes a disgusted face with a smile still on her face.

“Stop chewing your food like a camel, and listen to me. Guess who has a date tonight!” She says onto the screen and you wince when Steve doesn't respond at all. You weren’t looking at the screen so you didn’t know what his reaction was.

“You said we should all hang out today, and now you have a date?” He says and your ears perked up at that. Robin thought of the same thing you did this morning, warming your heart a little bit, and also feeling sad you won’t be able to join. Robin rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Not me Dingus.” She then, out of nowhere, turned the camera to face you this time, making your eyes go wide. “TA-DA!”

Steve’s eyes almost popped out at the surprise and he suddenly spat the cheerios he was eating. You had a disgusted look on your face and then heard a lot of noise from Steve’s side, cursing and stomping all around.

“Harrington, what the actual fuck!” You heard Billy yell and Steve was coughing non stop. Your face flushed, burnt even at the attention and then Steve tried talking, saying your name.

“She- She has a date tonight!” He yells and the next thing you heard was a pan dropping somewhere and Eddie suddenly came into view with his hair up in a ponytail, shirtless, and with his tattoos showing off. Your stomach flipped at the sight, making you step closer to the phone, grabbing onto it. 

Your eyes locked with Eddie’s as he too took the phone in his hands, snatching it from Steve, aggressively, and faced the camera to look at you. You weren’t about to faint, he could guess that much, and you didn’t really give off an excited vibe to it. 

“You’re going on a date tonight?” He asks and you are about to reply but you get cut off by Steve yelling in the background, as Eddie seems to rush upstairs towards his room.

“My phone Munson! Where are you–”

“Shut the fuck up Harrington, I’ll give it back!” Your eyes widened slightly at the anger you felt in his tone, as if he were having a bad day, but then his eyes turned to you and that anger was no longer there, but an emotion you couldn’t quite describe. “So?”

“U-Um… Yeah, I-I am going on a date tonight, with a coworker actually…” You were embarrassed and you didn’t know why. There was a feeling of pain in your chest, or a feeling of uneasiness in the center of your gut as you saw Eddie’s face contort slightly at the news, to then give you a small smirk.

“And? Do you find him, you know… attractive?” He asks, with a certain nervousness in his tone. He was feeling his chest slightly pressing into his lungs, as if air were about to be gone from them at any second. His fingertips were sweating as he held the phone to his face, looking at you intently, watching your reactions.

“I mean, he is, yeah, so… It can also end in friendship, who knows!” You give a nervous giggle and maybe it ends like that, maybe you find a great potterhead friend in a coworker. Suddenly Robin comes into the camera over your shoulder.

“He is fucking hot, I’m talking blonde, green eyes, AND Harry Potter fan.” She wiggles her eyebrows to Eddie and then to you and for some reason that made Eddie’s stomach flip over. So the guy liked something you liked. Something you were fascinated about. You rolled your eyes at Robin and then talked to Eddie again.

“I was going to tell you, but Robin beat me to it right now.” Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You told Robin first, of course, but the doubt in his mind was still there. When did he ask you out? How long ago was it? Why didn’t you say good afternoon to him first?

“Well, you better gear up for that Angel.” He says pushing up a half smile on his lips, his jaw clenching at the thought of someone else seeing you dressed up. Dressed up in order to get their attention, to fawn over you. Makeup neatly done to accentuate your best features, because you want them to look at you. 

“Yeah…” For some reason you couldn’t stop staring at him on the screen, your heart tugging on you for some unknown reason, and you were feeling a little bit lightheaded and his staring was making your body tense. 

“Welp Eddie, I have to help her get ready, tell Steve I’ll be there at 8!” Robin says excitedly, about to grab the phone out of your hands but Eddie stops her, flailing a hand around. He took a deep breath in, trying to contain himself at the moment. He had to be a good friend about this, because that’s all he was. Yes, that’s all he was.

“Angel, if you um… if you don’t feel safe at any point, or you feel uncomfortable, you leave, or call me– any of us. Okay?” He says to you, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You felt safe thanks to his words, but there was another feeling, a weird one that you didn’t know how to describe. You gave him a slow nod and your free hand gripped tightly into a fist.

“Y-Yeah… I’ll be fine, I can do this, right?” You look for his reassurance, wanting to know if the past month was worth it, if all the lessons and confidence boosters were going to work for this very moment. He stayed silent for a few seconds, forcing a smile on his lips as he nodded at you.

“Yeah, you got it sweetheart.” He should remind you about body language, he should remind you about the topics one can talk about on a date, he should remind you about how pretty you look without even trying, to not force yourself into doing extra or anything. He should remind you about how great you kiss, how amazing you feel, how great you smell, because that would make you confident. That would make the date go your way and not the other guy’s.

But he just clenched his jaw as you took a deep breath in with a nod, handing the phone back to Robin.

“Okay Eddie, see you later!” And like that, Robin hangs up the call, letting Eddie see his own reflection at the phone’s black screen. His eyebrows were knitted together, face completely tense, and he finally let his hand fall to his side, while the other ran all over his face in frustration. 

“MUNSON, MY PHONE!” Steve yelled from downstairs and Eddie clenched his fist around his phone that’s on his side, not even afraid if he was bending it or breaking it. His chest was heaving, up and down, sharp breaths flaring through his nose as the twist in his guts made him even more irritable, each second that passed as he thought about what you were going to wear. What you were going to smell like.

What if the date goes well?

Another scream for Steve made him finally snap out, slamming his fist against the doorway of his room, cracking his neck once as he took a deep breath in to calm himself down. 

“Stop pissing your fucking pants Harrington!” He yelled as he headed downstairs again.

He really hoped your date didn’t like anchovy pizza.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, again, for the hundredth time in the day. You were wearing a tight black dress, almost like the purple one, with a leather jacket on top, and then you were wearing black low heel ankle boots. Robin helped with the outfit and the hair, but the makeup you decided to not use much eyeshadow, some neutral for it, and then eyeliner and mascara.

Your lips were glossy, and you looked down at your legs, a deep blush spreading on your cheeks. You shaved. Maybe it won’t lead to that, but you shaved, entirely, just in case because you knew your body was in need, and it had been for a few days. You felt some nausea appearing in your stomach as you stared at your reflection.

Do you even know how to have sex? You’ve only done missionary in your whole life, you don’t even know how to do a blowjob properly, hell, even a handjob! What if you are as stiff as a board? What if your moans are too loud? Would you even moan? You don’t remember moaning much before, not even when you touch yourself, and it’s just you in the room, no one else could hear you.

Your breathing started picking up at the thought of it, making you sit down on the bed. Austin had messaged you and told you to meet him at ‘Il Capo’ which is quite close to your apartment. The closeness made you feel somewhat calmer, but your thoughts were running wild at the possibilities the night might unfold. 

But you wanted to feel good, you wanted something or someone to satiate this need that was never there before and you don’t even know why it suddenly appeared. Maybe he can help with that, maybe this is a good thing, maybe you will be able to let go, just like you did with Eddie. 

Would he be like Eddie?

You snapped out of your daze as you heard an alarm from your phone, that you set up to make you actually leave your place. You took a deep breath in, getting up from your bed and grabbing your bag, taking a look at yourself once more, before deciding to leave your room and then your apartment. 

Every step you took towards your car and every second you drove to the bar, your heart was hammering in your chest, wanting to rip it open, wanting to simply turn and go to Eddie’s to spend the night with him, the boys and Robin. You had to shake that feeling away, knowing that this was good for you, this is a good fucking thing, something you yearned for for a long while. 

But as you stood outside the bar for 10 minutes, you were beginning to get fidgety. Maybe you were too early? Maybe it’s normal to not be punctual on a date? What if you come across as too uptight because of it? You didn’t want to make him think that you were a control freak of time, or that you were desperate or–

“Hey!” You heard your name being called, cutting your every thought and you turned around, your eyes almost wide as you had to look up towards the man that was greeting you. He was pretty, too pretty. His blonde hair was the same as you saw on camera, and he was wearing a white shirt, some jeans, and an opaque leather jacket on top that smelled like leather. The collar of his shirt was almost loose, which gave away how his muscles tightened as he bent down slightly to look at you.

“H-Hi Austin!” You slightly winced at how excited or how desperate you must have sounded but your knees were slightly buckling in his presence, your nerves at the tip of your fingertips as he looked at you. 

“Sorry, Lorraine was a little intense so I logged off a little bit later than I expected.” He says, wincing slightly but in all honesty, you had just waited 10 minutes, and he was making it seem like he was two hours late, which made you smile and shake your head, feeling a little bit more at ease.

“It’s alright, I didn’t really wait long.” You say to him and he nods towards the bar, guiding you both inside. It was still a little early for people to come in, but it was the time all office workers came for happy hours after a stressful day at work. He picked a rounded booth, and you took notice of the setting. This would allow you both to sit next to each other and not in front, facing one another. 

You took a deep breath in as you slid into the booth, him sitting next to you and his cologne suddenly hit you. It was bitter, too bitter for your liking, but it was still a manly smell. He took off his jacket and you blushed as you saw his biceps move, quickly taking off yours so it would feel casual. 

Body language, you gotta remember that. 

“So, why haven’t we gone out before? I haven’t seen you in like… any of the after office parties and I know you’ve been invited.” He says with a curious smile, looking at you, sitting almost on his side to be able to face you, so you copied his stance, feeling your cheeks get hotter as you looked at him. 

You can do this. They don’t have superpowers, he asked you out first, he was interested first.

“I’m more of an introvert, prefer to read or play something. Maybe hang out with my close friends.” You say to him as the waitress comes over to take your order. He orders a glass of Rum and Coke and you get a beer for yourself, with a side of french fries to snack on. That interaction let you take another deep breath to continue the conversation, feeling his body extremely close to yours, but he wasn’t really, your mind was just playing tricks on you, which you cursed in the depth of your brain.

“Oh? You play? I mean, reading I kind of guessed because of the massive library I saw, but I didn’t know you played games.” 

And that’s how the conversation flowed, getting to know one another, talking about work and about Lorraine, laughing as you both took your drinks, and you felt nice, the knot still deep in your stomach, but there was something nice about this. He was so much like you, with music, food, movies, books, almost identical.

“Right, and then my friend John, who I love dearly may I say, hugged that cactus, completely drunk out of his mind and we had to sit all around him, with tweezers, plucking all the little thorns out.” You laughed at that story, your eyes teary as you imagined the situation of a plastered guy just believing a cactus in someone's backyard was a person.

“H-Holy shit, that must of hurt!” He laughed with you, laying back on the booth, holding his belly from the strain of it.

“Sure it did, he had little thorns for over a week! He sat down on a chair and a new sting would appear.” He says with a shake of his head, calming his laughter down. You’ve been talking for the past hour and a half, letting yourself go in conversation and fluidity. 

“Oh to be the person that took the thorns out of there.” You giggled and he smiled at you, shifting again to face you. You noticed how his eyes changed from playful to a squint almost, and you noticed how they drifted to your lips and back to your eyes.

“So… Now that we know each other, which house do I belong to?” He asks and you smile, facing him as well with a turn of your upper body, squinting your eyes at him. You opened your mouth to speak and he stopped you with a hand up. “Hang on. We gotta set some prizes here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows up in surprise, feeling your chest almost somersaulting from the sudden proposal. 

“Okay, if you guess mine right, and I guess yours wrong, I’ll… Do your tax revisions for a week.” You smirked at that, knowing it was a good prize, and you pretended to be deep in thought before nodding at him.

“Alright, and if it’s the other way around? You guess mine, I don’t guess yours?” Your heart went to your throat as he gave you a grin, which made your cheeks flush, and your knees trembled as his eyes scanned your body for a brief second.

“I get to kiss you.” You definitely blushed at that and he noticed because he gave a small chuckle at your reaction. You gulped heavily, your belly turning in every direction possible, as your feet grew cold from your nerves.

“O-Okay…” He stood straight, fixing himself, and gave you a cocky smile, which made you a little bit more comfortable on his side. He was being goofy with you, and you very much appreciated that. “Mmm… I will say Gryffindor.”

He gave you a smile, relaxing his body and you noticed how he scooted closer to you. Blood rushed to your ears as he slowly shook his head at you. You guessed wrong. You took a sharp breath in and raised an eyebrow in question.

“You were wrong.” He chuckles as his eyes scanned you once again.

“And how do I know you are not lying?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling nervous about making a move, but Robin taught you it. Cross your arms under your chest and it will press your chest up a bit, popping it out. It worked, because his eyes drifted there for a millisecond and back to your eyes. He smiled widely, taking his keys out of one of the pockets of his jacket, and there, you saw the Crest of Slytherin dangling around it.

“And now, it’s my turn.” Your chest was ablaze as you copied him, straightening up to look at him, waiting for his response. If he guesses right, he will kiss you. This man wants to kiss you, willingly, and that is boosting you up a little. Feeling desired by a man like him felt nice, good. “Hufflepuff.”

You froze. 

He smiled widely at your surprised face, fully knowing he guessed right.

“I don’t even need to ask for proof, thanks to your silent reaction.” You gulped, hoping he wouldn’t hear that and how your belly was turning and jumping, because he was scooting closer and closer, each second that passed. “Do I get my prize now?”

You looked into his green eyes, into his perfect features, in how plump his lips were as he leaned in. The cologne is bitter, too bitter, yet, you close your eyes as the scent heightens, the warmth of his body presses closer, and you remember how the past few days you just needed this. You needed it. So you let yourself go, for once, and then you finally felt it.

Lips pressing against yours.

“Okay, hang on, so I just like–” Robin was three beers in as she gave a sharp turn over her shoulder with a smirk on her face, trying to hold her laughter in, while Steve sat on a chair in front of her with arms crossed and an unamused look on his face. 

“You would suck as a stripper. That’s not even a fucking tease.” Steve says with a shake of his head while Billy laughs over at the couch looking at the scene, taking a sip out of his beer. 

“Robin, try to like, walk over to him, moving your hips from side to side.” Billy says as Eddie chokes on his own beer. He is on his fourth one, slightly feeling the buzz of it as he leans against one of the walls of their living room. 

Steve has been trying to teach Robin some stripper tricks, but the girl is hopeless. She was as stiff as a board as she tried walking sensually towards Steve who started laughing while covering his face with a shake of his head. The music she chose was ‘Super Freak’ and it wasn’t even sexy.

“She is hopeless, okay, Robs, try to, sensually take your jacket off.” Eddie says, a small smirk on his lips. He looked at his phone again, checking the time. 9 PM. And not a single word from you. His heart increased its pumping as he thought of what could have happened. Maybe you were having a great time, maybe he kidnapped you, maybe he murdered you. The possibilities were endless and they all sounded fucking wrong in his mind.

Even the one where you were having a great time with the guy.

Robin giggled and stood in front of Steve, starting to shrug her jacket away but the bell rang, making everyone raise an eyebrow in question, completely confused. 

“Didn’t we eat pizza like 10 minutes ago?” Steve asks and Billy gets up from the couch, heading towards the door, looking through the peephole first. His eyes widened and he yanked the door open.

“What are you doing here, sweets?” He asked as you stood at the door with a sour look on your face. Eddie immediately got off the wall as you walked inside the apartment, heels echoing around the room. He watched you with a bewildered look on his face as he studied your outfit and his knees almost buckled at the sight. 

You looked absolutely beautiful, and your scent filled the room in one swift movement as you rushed by him. Sweet, almost floral, and god he wanted to grab you right now. Anywhere, at any part, but he noticed your anger, and he looked towards Robin to check on her to see if she knew anything.

Robin was shocked to see her best friend here because she didn’t receive any messages at all, and she hadn’t checked her location for a while, which was her mistake. But you were here now, ripping the fridge open to grab a beer, closing the door and opening it for yourself, taking a large gulp for a few seconds. 

“Um…” Steve got up from the chair and looked at Eddie, motioning him with his head to go talk to you. Something was clearly bothering you, and they all suspected it had to do with your date. Eddie gulped, walking towards you as you sighed heavily with your eyes closed.

“Angel, everything okay?” You opened your eyes again and looked at his brown ones that were filled with worry. Your heart softened at that, and your anger washed away a bit, shaking your head.

“It wasn’t what I expected. I don’t want to talk about it.” You say with a grunt, going over to the couch to sit down with a grunt. Everyone else looked at each other in concern for a minute, wondering what happened or what’s wrong with you until you talked again with a confused frown to your face. “Why is super freak playing?”

At that Robin beamed, knowing you needed some cheering up even if the alcohol was buzzing in her body and she put her beer down on the coffee table, earning you a confused look on your face, looking at her. 

“The boys were teaching me how to be a stripper.” You choked on your spit, coughing a bit at her words. Your eyes immediately widened as you looked at the three boys who had playful smiles on their lips.

“Excuse me… what?” You say in surprise as Steve scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You are a lame excuse for a stripper, you wouldn’t get a dollar placed on your belt.” He says and Billy laughs as he walks over to sit on your other side, taking his beer in his hand again and taking a sip from it. Eddie was trying to be subtle about it, taking short glances at you and your outfit, seeing your legs pulled together as you bent forward to listen to Robin.

“It’s just if my work bores me!” She giggled and you noticed that everyone already had a few drinks ahead of you, making you smile at how funny and fond everyone was being to each other, but there was still a storm inside of your head, which Eddie noticed. 

“Come on sweetheart, chug that beer down and get in tune with us.” You looked at him with a surprised look on your face and he just smiled and winked at you, causing your belly to simply burst with something. Your thighs clenched as you looked down at your beer bottle and you tipped it back, starting to chug it down.

And as you drank the second one, and it complemented with the two drinks you had back at the bar, the buzz was already in your body, giggling as Robin bickered with Steve about his hip movements, and how they were not normal for her to do, yet, she claimed she was good with her dancing.

“Robin, you can’t just simply sit on the lap, that would be overly sexual.” Billy states and Robin rolled her eyes, drinking out of her fourth beer, shaking her head. 

“You guys do worse!” She exclaims and you giggle at that and nod, completely agreeing with your friend. You still remember Steve on his knees with water being poured on his almost naked body, you remember Billy grazing his lips with Barb after he licked her neck like a lollipop and then you remember Eddie. His fingers in someone else’s throat, and his lips over another girl’s lips.

The grip on your beer tightened at the memory.

“Okay, Robin, show it to me.” You suddenly say and everyone’s eyes widened as you went to sit on the chair that was in the middle of the room. You looked at her defiantly, now your confidence skyrocketed thanks to the alcohol in your system and she gave you a puzzled look as you took a dollar out of one of the pockets of your jacket, dingling it around. “You make me speechless, this dollar is yours.”

At that Robin beamed, and ran to Billy’s phone which was connected on bluetooth to a speaker and put on ‘Under the influence’ by Chris Brown. You winced at the artist choice, but kept a straight face either way. You wanted to laugh really, as Robin started swaying from side to side, and you had to give it to her, she was really trying. 

The boys were all laughing, almost grabbing their bellies as Robin approached you, holding in her laughter while biting her lips together, trying really hard to not lose it right then and there. She got in front of you and then turned around to shake her ass at you and that made you lose it completely, letting out a big laugh as you tried to shoo her away.

“Oh come on! I am trying to be sexy here!” She exclaims and you shake your head wildly, trying to hold in your laughter but it is almost impossible as Steve chokes up on his words.

“Jesus christ, Robs I didn’t teach you that!” Robin glared at her friend while you giggled behind her, still sitting and suddenly, Robin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. It was risky, and she knew it, but she wanted to know, she really was intrigued by your reactions.

“Alright, Mr. Perfect Stripper, go get that dollar then.” Your eyes widened at those words as well as everyone else’s in the room. Eddie’s stomach turned, feeling like Robin had crossed a line she shouldn’t have but then your words startled him, almost made him sweat over.

“The dollar is still in my hands.” You giggle out, actually feeling the situation comical, even if your nerves were jumping all around in your body. You trusted the boys as friends now, maybe that’s why you didn’t feel the embarrassment of the first time you’ve ever seen them. You saw them as people now, people that had a job, and people that became your friend. Dear friends even.

“Oh, I am getting that dollar.” Steve says cockily. The same song was still playing, as he walked over to you, Robin scrambling away to the kitchen counter to start preparing more drinks, but always keeping an eye over you. 

Eddie gulped heavily, rising up from the couch to take his place back onto a wall, not being able to sit down any longer, as Steve walked all around your chair, looking down at you and brushing his fingertips over your shoulder. Your face remained stern, arms crossed over your chest as you followed Steve with your eyes.

You actually followed him with your eyes.

His eyebrow raised up when you didn’t even budge by his touch, giving Eddie a glance so that he knows he is still testing the waters with you. That made Eddie let out a breath of relief, knowing Steve wasn’t doing this with any other intention but to try to get you to give him the dollar.

Accepting the challenge, Steve cocked his head to the side as he stood next to you, his hip right at your eye level, and you kept your eyes forward, Billy holding in a laugh as you kept your lips tight, holding in your laughter as you clenched your eyes when you felt Steve slowly swaying downwards, grazing his belt against your arm. 

For some reason, you wanted to laugh really hard, because this felt like when Robin danced on you. You didn’t even think it was sexy or with a sexual intention. He just wanted to get the dollar out of your hand, and that made you even more cocky. His face was inches from yours when you opened your eyes, and you shook your head at him. 

His mouth fell open, giving Billy a surprised look on his face. Eddie clapped in the background making Steve jerk his head to glare at him. Robin let out a breath of relief as she laughed, shaking her head.

“Oh look, it seems you aren’t perfect stripper after all.” She says with her tongue between her lips that turned into a smile. Steve got up, groaning as he walked towards the kitchen counter to grab the rum and coke she prepared and took a long sip. He wasn’t going to lie, a little bit of his ego was smashed there, but there was a part of him that was happy you didn’t sweat, or fainted thanks to his closeness.

You were looking at Robin who winked at you, raising her glass up as a cheer, and you raised your beer bottle to her, and as you were about to put the dollar bill back in your jacket, your wrist was grabbed, gently, and you jerked your head up towards the person who was holding you.

“Hey, I’m getting that dollar out of your hand, okay sweets?” You blushed at the pet name, and you know Billy’s sex appeal is much bigger than Steve’s, which made your body shiver quite a bit. Eddie took a deep breath in as Billy glanced at him once. The song was still on, the chorus hitting your ears as Billy’s hand grabbed onto the beer bottle to take it away from you and place it on the coffee table.

You gulped heavily as he hovered over you, and slowly, his hands went towards your shoulder blades, sliding them under the jacket and you felt his palms on the skin of your shoulders. Your breath hitched at that as he slowly took your jacket off, sliding it off your arms to then throw it across the room and onto the couch. 

His hips stayed on your line of vision as he slowly swayed them side to side, unbuttoning the first row of buttons on his shirt to reveal his chest. This escalated way too much from what Steve did and Robin was in full alert as she looked at the scene. She was going to kick Billy’s ass if you fainted right then and there. But you didn’t, you weren’t even moving as you clasped the dollar in your left hand. 

Billy tilted his head at you, amused by how different you are from a month ago, daring to look him in the eye as he moved sensually in front of you. He licked his lips as he walked behind you, his hands being placed on your shoulders again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“Is that dollar mine yet?” And Billy smirked when you didn’t say anything, but your shoulders started shaking, alarming him, taking his hands off you to then hear you finally crack up, your laughter filling the room. Billy's eyes widened and he frowned in disbelief as everyone else followed in giggles.

“Look at her go!” Steve says clinking his glass with Robin’s who had a wide smile on her face, taking a gulp out of her drink. You were almost in tears as your head turned to look at Billy.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just, I couldn’t help it!” You say between giggles and Billy rolled his eyes, buttoning his shirt again and walking to get a glass for himself. 

“That dollar is hanging onto dear life.” Robin says and you giggle about to get up to retrieve your beer again but the lights suddenly dim, making everyone turn to the person near the light switch.

“You really forgot about me, Angel?” Your heart stopped when you saw him. He had put his hair up in a bun, his black shirt tight on his body, and shit, you didn’t take a good look at him when you first entered because your mind was definitely somewhere else, but now, your mind was on him. As well as your eyes, your scent, and you felt your breathing hitch at every thud his boots made against the floor. 

You heard your friends cheer on the low, and whistle, but you didn’t care, not when he suddenly got on his knees, crawling slowly to where you were, your thighs clenching tightly as your breathing picked up a pace because your heart started hammering wildly in your chest. 

He smirked, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he finally reached your feet, taking one ankle in his hands and raising it up, towards his face. Your leg started tingling from the sudden touch, and your belly was burstin with flames at the sight. Suddenly, it felt as if it were just the two of you in the room, all alone, as Eddie looked at you with eyes that one could only describe as adoration. 

He smiled as he took off your left boot, letting it fall to his side, and he led his lips towards the skin of your ankle. And oh god, that felt as if an electric shock shot from the place he pressed his lips on, and up towards your hips until it reached your brain. Your breathing was becoming too elaborated, but it was different from the other times you were breathless.

This felt too different.

His lips kept grazing your skin as he slowly started going up your leg, kissing your calf, softly, almost unnoticeable, but for you, it felt as if he were branding himself with hot iron lips. Everything inside you was burning, absolutely everything, but you didn’t want it to stop. Instead, you wanted it to keep spreading, more, and more.

Eddie was in a completely different battle all by himself, because you tasted sweet. Too sweet. Or maybe his brain was making it up because you drive him crazy. Maybe his brain was making it up because he was delighted to have you here instead of you being with your other date. Maybe his brain was making it up because he wanted to taste more. He needed to taste more of you.

You don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.

He kissed your knee tentatively, looking up at you with his big brown doe eyes and your ankle started to finally lower itself as Eddie’s hand started moving upwards, feeling your skin under his fingertips, until the pressure got tighter on your thigh, making you gasp in your throat. He smirked at your reaction, slowly pulling himself up, in a crawl, first gripping on your thigh for leverage, and then his face came up in front of yours.

Your eyes locked with his again, and there was a connection that felt like nothing you ever felt before. Something that your heart was trying to tell you, and your belly jumped with excitement, but your brain was not cooperating into finding a word for it. His hand gripped the back of your chair, over your shoulder, his tattooed arm pressing against your skin as he leaned closer towards you, and then your mouth fell slightly open as the fingertips of his right hand touched the hem of your dress.

I don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.

Your hand trembled, yet, your eyes never left his, even if his breath was hitting your face, and the tension Eddie was feeling with you was nothing like he ever felt before. This is definitely different than before, and he knew it, and he was wondering if you knew it. And he almost couldn’t help himself as his eyes drifted to your lips.

He wanted another taste. He needed another taste. The sweetness of your skin still lingering on his lips as he licked them to keep it in his mouth a little longer. But his eyes snapped open from the daze when he felt something in the front pocket of his jeans. He looked down to see you putting the dollar in there, and everyone else suddenly reappeared in the room.

He looked up into your eyes again, and your breathing was heavy, looking at him as your hand dropped to your side after putting the dollar in his front pocket. Nervousness, it was definitely there, you knew it was there, but the shyness was being overpowered by something else.

What is it?

“Now we know who the perfect stripper is.” Robin says excitedly with a squeal, which finally makes you and Eddie break from your trance. He broke into a big wide smirk, as Billy turned the lights on again with his arms crossed. He held a smirk as he looked at your face, which was a blushing mess, yet you were still looking at the brown eyes in front of you, not caring if he could see that. Eddie definitely had an advantage in this game.

Eddie pulled away from you, grabbing onto your hand to pull you up from the chair, which made you center yourself into reality once more. Maybe it was the alcohol, it definitely was that, but that growing need was in your belly again. Why now when you’re with friends? This doesn’t happen when you are hanging out with them, or it shouldn’t. You slid your foot back onto the shoe that Eddie took off, feeling the heat at the tip of your toes.

“Of course I was going to win.” Eddie says as he tries to push his nervousness away, walking towards the drinks to take a sip from one glass. Act nonchalant, act like there is no tension in the air and everything will be fine. He had to act as if he wasn’t going to kiss you right then and there in front of everyone else.

Robin was looking at you, trying to hide a smile while sipping her glass as you looked down, heading to grab a glass of your own. You shouldn’t drink anymore, but your throat was dry so you took just one more sip, and that’s all. Maybe that burning feeling would go away, it must be the alcohol producing it, and you say it like a mantra, to make sure that it’s real.

“I think the best stripper would be her if she dared to do so. I just have a feeling.” Billy says while pointing at you, squinting his eyes as he looks down at you, and that makes you smile, the tension in your shoulders disappearing for a second.

“Oh, now that would be dangerous.” Eddie says as he takes a sip while looking down at you as well, and you catch his eyes, a playful look on them, a hint of something you are not distasteful of, and you smirk up at him, feeling yourself burst with sudden excitement.

“You afraid I’ll take all your clients away?” You ask and he cocks an eyebrow up at the shift of your tone, the confident voice you just blurted out of your lips almost knocking him to the ground as he squinted slightly at you.

“They’re all women.” He says and you shrug, looking at Robin.

“Would the ladies like me?” You ask and Robin smiles, winking at you over her glass.

“Definitely.” You give Eddie a triumphant smile as he rolled his eyes, but deep in his mind he was imagining things. Oh, so many things. Things he shouldn’t think about with you. Things he should run away from, but even so, he knows it’s too late for it. He knows it, and even if there is a part of him that wants to run away from it, he also wants to embrace it. 

“Robin, make me another one of these.” Steve slightly slurs as Billy nods and hands his glass towards Robin. Eddie does not, sipping his last drink of the night as he watched you not drinking anymore either. He has questions afterall, so many, and you were not going to leave until you’ve answered them. Maybe it was to appease his mind, maybe it was because he needed reassurance of some sort. Maybe it was because he wanted to know if your date failed.

And he hoped, even if evil, that it did.

“Shh!” Eddie says as you both walk upstairs. You were holding in your giggles as you gave a final look at the plastered and passed out Steve, sleeping on the floor with a pillow under his head, Robin resting her head on the small of his back, salivating it completely, while Billy snored on the couch with his jacket over his face.

They had three more glasses of whatever concoction Robin made, and it took no more than an hour for them to simply pass out drunk. Eddie and you had quit long ago, still a little fuzzy from alcohol but nothing like the people in the living room. You follow him into his room, and you realize that you’ve never been in there before. You walked in with an awe look on your face, looking around and Eddie leaned against the doorway, smiling while crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you as you inspected his room.

His room was dark colored, some posters hung on the walls, from different bands that he had mentioned he liked, completely different to the ones you liked, but you didn’t mind listening to his music every once in a while. A large bed was in the middle of it, covered in black comforters, because of course it was going to be all dark. Your eyes glanced at his desk, seeing various notebooks piled up and what looked like a folder.

You walk towards it, and read the top of it. ‘Hellfire Club’ and a logo of a demon with dice all around. You are guessing this is his Dungeon Master guide. He had mentioned his high school club to you, and you also knew he took the role seriously whenever he got together with his old friends. Your eyes caught on something on the desk and your eyes bulged out of your sockets, taking the frame in your hands.

“Oh my god… Is this you?!” You ask excitedly as you look at a young Eddie with a buzz cut on his head, missing tooth, smiling next to Wayne with a fish in their hands. Eddie winced at how quick you found that picture, but he was actually quite fond of it, hence why he kept it and even had it on display.

“Yeah. My old man made me cut it. Told me long hair is not very… manly.” His eyes drifted to the floor and you looked at him, realizing this is not a topic he likes to discuss. You knew little to nothing about Eddie’s family, apart from Wayne, Claudia and Dustin, and it seemed he preferred to keep it that way with you. But it was okay, they were the only ones that you really cared to know about, because they cared about Eddie.

“If he saw you now, he would eat his words, wouldn’t he?” Eddie chuckled at that, looking up at you again, his breath taken away when you were fondly smiling at him. He didn’t realize it before, but his heart rate had picked up a pace the moment you walked into the room with no problems at all. 

“Okay, now that we’re alone.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you feel yourself grow hot on your cheeks and your chest at the realization you are actually alone, in his room, with him. You had to take a deep breath in, he was your friend, this is no different than all the other times you’ve been alone with him. “Care to tell me what happened with your date?”

You closed your eyes as you sighed. Your mood lowered in an instant as soon as he asked that question to you. There was anger in your chest, but also uncertainty, and with a lot of doubt. You knew the question would pop up at some point, because you showed up unannounced, didn’t say anything, and acted as if nothing happened today.

“It just… It wasn’t what I thought it would be.” You blushed slightly at your response, not wanting him to think you were a picky person, but maybe you were.

“Angel, gotta give me more than that. You didn’t look happy at all when you came in here.” He walked towards you to get a hold of your shoulder for you to look up at him. He gave a nod to his bed, motioning you to sit down with him at the edge of it, next to one another. He took off his boots and you looked down at your bare feet. You had taken yours off downstairs, feeling a little cramped from wearing them too long. 

“I– I don’t know…” You weren’t looking at him, and his gut turned at the nervousness in your voice. He was afraid something was done to you without your consent, but you didn’t seem nervous with him or with the guys before, so that theory kind of runs thin. 

“Sweetheart, did he say something? Or did he do something you didn’t like?” He asked you and your eyes widened, shaking your head at him with surprised eyes. 

“No, no, he was… He was sweet, and he was easy to talk to…” He held your gaze, trying to read you as his brows furrowed in confusion, as well as his fist clenched against his knee. 

“Then…? I don’t understand what happened.” He reminds you, once more, and you sigh heavily as you hide your face in your hands, resting your elbows on your knees, bending forward.

“I just– He was attractive, he was, I know it! I was so nervous, super nervous, and we talked about Harry Potter, and music, and food, and we’re so fucking alike and…” You didn’t know where you were going with this, but you were trying to explain what’s going on in your head, you really are, but you also feel embarrassed to do so, to say it to him.

“I am… still a little bit lost darling.” He was really confused, and he cannot even read what’s going on with you. This new side of you is baffling him, because you were easy to read before, see what was on your mind because of your eye movements, or tug on your lips. Now, he cannot really say what’s happening to you, and that kind of bothers him, annoys him really.

“I— God, I can’t say it to you. I just– I just thought it was going to be different than what I expected.” You say putting your hands down and he could finally see how bashful you looked, embarrassed, and he wanted to know why you were feeling in such a way. 

“You can tell me anything Angel. If it means it can help you understand yourself, then I am more than willing to listen to you.” He softly says and you slowly turn your head to look at him, finding understanding and care in his features. Your heart was in your throat as you felt the blood flow even more towards your cheeks. You looked down at your fingers again, playing with one of your silver rings to distract yourself.

“Okay I– I um… I know there’s supposed to be… something else. When I kissed him, and it was a good kiss even, I just–”

“You kissed him?” Oh his own heart felt like exploding right now. He knew the vein in his forehead was about to pop off, but he didn’t care. He felt like a punch was delivered towards the side of his body, but he gulped the green vile forming, clenching tightly onto his knee again.

“Yeah– He kissed me first, and it was good, really good!” You weren’t looking at him, still down at your fingers so you weren’t able to see the redness that got into Eddie’s face as you said those words. “But… I didn’t– I expected… sparks? Or… Fire?” 

That got the green monster to vanish away from Eddie’s body. He gave a slow nod in thought as you explained, and he came to a simple conclusion, that he knew you weren’t experienced with it because you never felt it.

“You weren’t attracted to him.” You blinked at that with a confused frown on your face and finally looked up at him.

“But he was attractive.” You defend and he shakes his head at you with a soft smile on his face. 

“It doesn’t mean you will automatically be attracted to them. For example, Billy, you don’t find him attractive.” He frowned at his words in thought, and his brain turned its gears by itself, noticing you were still looking at him, without answering. “You’re not attracted to Billy, right?”

“Oh! No! I see him as a friend.” You replied in surprise and he smiled in return, his heart jumping in excitement at your answer. 

“Attraction has to do more with… a person. Sure, you can feel attracted to a guy who is attractive only by sight, but maybe when you get to know him, it’s not what you expected.” You frowned at that, tilting your head to the side to look towards the ground as your thoughts started processing in your head. 

Austin was perfect. He liked your music, pop, rock, some jazz probably, then the food, it was almost the same, except for your liking on putting fries on a milkshake, or anchovy pizza. Then the Harry Potter talk was smooth, charming, and it felt as if you were talking with…

With a friend.

“Oh…” Was all you managed to say and Eddie knew you finally understood the meaning of it. “Oh, that sucks, and I even shaved.” You slump again with a sigh, not even registering what you just said, until a second later you did. Your eyes went wide in realization, slowly turning to look at him whose mouth was open with a bewildered look in his face. 

Did you say you shaved? You, who had problems with kissing just two weeks ago, suddenly had the bravery of sleeping with someone on the first date? What happened in the past two weeks that he hadn’t noticed for you to suddenly become bold like that?

“I-I…” You were red in the face and the nerves were getting to you, so, the words started vomiting out of your mouth, without processing at all in your head. “I just been very needy lately, out of nowhere, and it never happened before, and I don’t know, maybe now that I can finally talk to guys, that need reappeared and it’s been so fucking long and I don’t know–” 

“Whoa, whoa, hang on, slow down, please.” He was overwhelmed by the sudden information you were giving to him and he was trying to process it all by closing his eyes to take a deep breath in. Needy. You were needy. And that is not doing good things to him right now. He is thinking of so many things in such a rushed pace that he cannot swallow it all down in one go. 

You looked down, biting the skin next to your nail on your thumb, trying to appease some of the nerves and the nausea that was whirling in your stomach, ready to get out and make an even more fool out of yourself. How could you just blurt that out to him? Why did you do that?

“F-Forget what I said– Please–” You made him snap out of his thoughts, with a shake of his head and even if his stomach was about to explode in a million pieces and he cursed at himself as the blood was starting to slowly rush south on him.

“Calm down, it’s fine, just– So, you thought that it would be a good opportunity to…” He didn’t even finish the words, not wanting to imagine the outcome of you actually going with that chance. You swallowed the big lump in your chest, but his eyes were looking into yours, looking for understanding, for you to try to explain yourself to him.

Making you feel safe.

“I– Yes… I just thought that… If I– slept with someone who I found attractive then… I would feel good…” And there it was. Eddie’s eyes saddened as you looked down at the floor again. You just confessed to him that in none of the times you were intimate with a man, you felt good. “I know they tried… I remember them trying, but, when you are not attracted to the person, your mind is not really– Not into it.”

And Eddie’s eyes flickered with something, a switch was pressed inside of him as he looked down at your frame, defeated, and thinking something was wrong with you. He didn’t want you to feel that way, not for a single second. His hands were burning as he raised one towards your thigh, pressing it gently on top. You shivered at the sudden touch, looking down at the rings that grasped your thigh.

“What you need to do is shut your brain. You think too much about what the other person is doing, and who the person is, when sometimes you don’t have to think of any of those things, because maybe those guys you’ve been with, at least one probably did a good job, but you were too caught up in your mind that you didn’t let yourself go with it.” He explained softly, as calmly as possible for you and your eyes widened slightly at that.

You’re always in your mind, even when you’re touching yourself. That’s why you never remember who you’re picturing or if you’re even imagining something at all, and maybe that’s why it takes you too long to finally reach that peak you look for. But how do you get out of your mind? How do you make it stop processing any kind of thought?

“I… I don’t know how to do that, Eds…” His eyes closed at the nickname, feeling the sweetness in his tongue at it. He bit the inside of his cheek as he opened his eyes again to look at you. His control was slowly slipping away, he knew it, because the idea that came to his head, the thought of it, the craziness of it, was driving him mad with desire. He was nervous to ask, he was nervous, for the first time in his life in making a move. But it could help you, that’s what he keeps repeating to himself.

Everything is in order to help you.

His hand on your thigh slowly raised up, getting hold of your jaw with his thumb and index finger, making you slowly turn to look at him, and your eyes widened at seeing him much closer than before. Your breathing was caught in your throat as he stared down at you, his lips slightly agape, and you could swear you could hear the beat of your heart bouncing at every wall in the room.

“Let me teach you Angel.” He softly said, and you froze.

Is he meaning what you think he is meaning? But friends don’t do this, friends are just friends like you were with Robin, Steve and Billy. Maybe he is just helping you, no, you’re sure he is just helping you. No other intention involved to that, and you have to push him away. You have to say no, you have to deny it, you have to reject it, because there’s no possible way he would willingly do this.

But there was a fog in his pupils, something you don’t think ever saw before, not when men looked at you, but Eddie it’s not the first time you’ve seen it. You wondered if your eyes looked the same, if your eyes were showing him that feeling you cannot describe by yourself, that desire you had been feeling of wanting more. 

“I’ll help you shut your mind off. So… Please– Please let me make you feel good.”

Your heart almost stopped beating at his words. 

He was begging and he knew that, but if he didn’t have a taste of you now, in any way, his mind was going to fail him. He was sure he was gonna go crazy if he couldn’t touch you, whether be with his fingers, with his palms, with a graze of his arm against yours, or with his lips. 

His lips were inching closer to you, but you knew that without approval he was not going to kiss you. Because it was Eddie. Eddie who’s always been careful with you. Eddie who made you laugh on stressful days at work. Eddie who also came to you for his own bad days. Eddie who always makes you feel safe no matter what you’re doing or where you are.

And you wanted more. More since that night. More since his lips touched yours days ago, counting the hours and minutes to feel something like that again. It was just the feeling of it you wanted, that’s what you kept telling yourself, what you KEEP telling yourself just to save it all. Just to save this line. A line that if you crossed, you might end up hurt.

But right now, his words are the only thing that you could think about. And you felt it. You felt what you were seeking with Austin, what you couldn’t feel, what you felt in the living room, what you felt by yourself in your room.

Burning.

You gave him a short and slow nod, something he really was not expecting, but he wasn’t going to question you on it. He was going to be greedy, he knew this, he knew he was being selfish, but can you blame him? You were on his bed, wearing a short black dress, your shoulder exposed for him to bite on, your skin glistening for him to kiss it, your neck decorated with a thin golden necklace, which also had a sweet scent emanating from it.

So he leaned down, his palm pressing on your cheek, pulling you into him, pressing his lips against yours, once again. Your heart was elated, gleaming with excitement and happiness and your brain had to work again, despite the haziness and despite the turning of your stomach, and you returned the kiss.

Your hands twitched on your knees, wanting to grab onto him, wanting to touch him, wanting him to be closer and you didn’t know if you should. As his lips moved with yours, you felt yourself moving closer to him, just one single scooch, just one simple movement that impulsed him, eager, to hold your other cheek with his free hand, cradling you in them.

You felt his fingers sliding a bit towards the back of your head, his fingertips on your nape, sending electricity to places you never felt before. Your blood was rushing to your ears, but you could still hear the smacking of your lips in the room, and even if your mind was telling you to be embarrassed, that you should be, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it. Because the way he was kissing you, the feeling he was igniting in you, was way bigger than your nerves, than your embarrassment, than your bashfulness. 

He ran his tongue on your bottom lip, and this time you didn’t even hesitate to allow his entrance. He groaned into your mouth as his tongue touched yours, and that sound must have been the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard in your life, and he was just kissing you. Was that a good sign? Was he feeling the burning you were feeling as well?

He couldn’t stop tasting you, he couldn’t stop kissing you, you were addicting, like the ambrosia the gods had promised, and he didn’t believe he would ever get enough of it. Of you. He definitely can’t get enough of you, it was not possible. Your tongue was shy, but soft, following his movements, making him go crazier each second the kiss turned even more heavier than before.

He pulled away slowly, to your dismay, because you wanted to keep kissing him, not realizing your thighs were clenching together as your hands gripped onto your skin. He inspected you for a second, his breath a little heavy as he pressed a peck to your lips again, and you were surprised by that gentle touch, until his next kiss was on your cheek. Then, he kissed your jaw, all sweet and soft kisses but that were burning you in every possible good way.

His hands went away from your cheeks, and one rested on the back of your head, gently gripping on your hair to pull your neck back, making your eyes go wide and your stomach turn with a sudden flip. He noticed how you tensed at the movement and he was going to tell you to stop, that he will back off. But he was selfish, so fucking selfish.

“Don’t think… Close your eyes Angel, and let yourself feel.” And with that, he pressed a soft, nervous kiss on your pulse point. That was enough to send a shiver down your spine, goosebumps emerging on your arms, and you knew you had to hold onto him. Your hand shot to the back of his head, and he was surprised that you were touching him right now, yet, a smile appeared on his lips and he hoped you couldn’t feel it, glad you couldn’t see it. 

Because that would give him away.

He pressed another kiss on your neck, this time more firmly, tasting your perfume in his tongue, making him go even madder than before, the small string of his self control ready to snap. Your mind was a jumbled mess, but the burning was unbearable now. It was all over your body, but it was even more intense on where he was kissing. 

He tested the waters, by nibbling once and gently on your skin, and he felt you shiver, moving him slightly in response. Oh he was loving your reactions to him. He has to make you feel good. He has to. He needs to. Because his imagination of how you would react to him touching you, worshiping you, caring for you, was making him even more desperate to have you.

Your mind was slowly turning hazy as you felt him suddenly sucking on your pulse point, and that made a small moan get caught in your throat, vibrating against his lips. And that was it for Eddie. His free hand finally raised from his knee, to move towards your exposed one, gently touching it with his fingertips first, before his palm fully rested on top of it.

Your thighs clenched again and he noticed. He was making you feel like this, he was making you tremble slightly, by the grace of his lips, by his touch, and, god, he needed more. His hand started moving up and you felt everything you felt an hour ago, but this time, it heightened because of the kisses he was leaving on the skin of your neck.

His fingertips were on your thigh and he pressed them tentatively against your skin, and you jumped slightly at the pressure. Your eyes were closed as you felt him suck on your neck again, but a little lower this time. His lips moved closer to your collarbone, leaving a gentle yet scorching kiss there, and you gasped when you felt him bite where your bone would be. 

He was holding his own groans back, and he knew you would be able to see the growing hardness in his pants. He didn’t want you to think this was about him, no, this was all about you, on teaching you to enjoy yourself, teaching you how to feel, teaching you that anyone can make you feel good.

That HE can make you feel good.

He pulled away from you and you almost whined at the loss of contact, missing his warm breath against your skin but he had to check on you, know if you wanted to keep moving forward with him. He gulped when you looked down on him, half lidded eyes that were almost lost in the sensations he just gave you. He wanted to smirk to himself, a victory in his chest forming at seeing you coming undone under his hands.

“You alright darling?” His voice was low, sending a chill down your body, almost trembling in his hands as he held you. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted him to kiss your neck again, you wanted more. You gave him a slow nod and he had to even out his breath so you wouldn’t notice his excitement. “Come here.” 

He got on the bed, sliding towards the head of it, to sit against his headboard with his legs open, flexing his knees. Your eyes widened when you saw him like that, but you were magnetized to him, as if you were in a drunken state. He patted his inner thigh, motioning you to go to him and that you did, crawling on all fours towards him and he almost moaned, literally moaned at that sight. 

He was going crazy about you, he knew that, every move you made was like a stab in his heart, in his groin, just any part of his body, and when you were crawling like that, he was even more afraid of what he could possibly do. Of what he was capable of doing. But he cared too much about you, that’s why, he is only helping you for now.

Your eyes were trained on his and when you finally arrived in front of him, he held your shoulders to turn you around, making you sit in between his legs, your back almost pressing against his chest. Your legs were tight together, straight in front of you. Your stomach was almost hurting from the amount of knotting that was happening, and you were afraid of popping your liver or something. It was too straining.

“Now, here’s what I want you to do Angel…” He pushed your hair away from your right shoulder, and you trembled when you felt his lips press on your bare skin, goosebumps raising on your arms as you listened to him. His right hand came to press onto your thigh again, grazing it with his fingertips. “I want you to fully disconnect from your brain.”

“Eddie–” Doubt was starting to fill in your head again, the line being there, the line that you don’t want to cross, and the line that you don’t want to break because of this. 

“No, no… Don’t think. Just feel, heighten your sense of touch…” He started tracing his fingers upwards on your thigh, shivers being sent towards your legs as you looked down at his movements. His lips were suddenly pressed in between your shoulder and neck, making you gasp as his other hand, pressed on the other side of your neck, tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your skin.

His right hand pressed more firmly against your skin now, slowly trying to get in between your thighs. You felt suddenly a wave of heat rush through you, your skin burning from how flustered you suddenly got and he noticed once again by how you tense your shoulders.

“I– I don’t know–” But you wanted to. You wanted to know, but your head was working again, unlike a few minutes ago. He shook his head slightly, whispering low into your ear, his breath hitting just right to make you almost whimper and tremble at the feeling. 

“Feel me. Feel me touching your skin, feel my lips on your neck, the sensation it causes. Don’t think about me, just feel.” And his hand finally nudged in between your thighs as he pressed a kiss right below your ear, making a moan get trapped in your throat again. He pulled you flush against his chest now, as his hand started pushing your leg open.

The knots in your stomach went crazy now, thinking of what he was doing, feeling the fire on his fingertips. He was spreading your legs open, and that made you realize that the heat was below. It had always been deep in your belly, yearning, wanting, desiring. The need you’ve been feeling all this time was multiplied by a hundred right now, and you wanted it to be over, because it was unbearable.

So, you helped him, by spreading your legs open, your knees hitting his as you pulled them up. 

He smirked as he glanced down, feeling you breathing heavily against him. This was it, you were trusting him, completely giving yourself to him, and he had to make a decision. He could stop, he could go back to just being a friend that helps here and there, but no more than that, not this.

Or he could keep being selfish.

He sucked on your sweet spot, making you groan slightly, but it was a way to distract you from when his fingers started caressing your inner thigh. Soft, grazing his fingertips, giving a soft press as he felt your legs move slightly at his touch. 

“Can I make you feel good?” He whispered against your skin, for just one last approval, because even if he had his own desire, his own selfishness, greediness, you were always going to be first. Always putting you first, above all. You let out a content breath, knowing this, knowing he was caring for you. You gave a final nod, and that’s all he needed.

He raised the hem of your dress even more, because it had moved up when he was touching your inner thighs, but he needed more access. He slowly moved his hand as his lips nibbled on your shoulder, until he finally felt the lace of your underwear, and his eyes almost widened when he pressed a bit more onto it.

You were wet. Completely, and for him.

He took a deep breath in, trying to not think about how painful his hard on was in his pants, and finally cupped you through your underwear, making you gasp and almost jerk out of his grasp. It wasn’t even a full on touch, it was soft, and gentle, yet it had provoked a feeling inside of you that was too intense, but you needed more, god, you needed more.

Desperately.

“Eddie– Please…” And he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth, because you were asking him to go forward, asking him to move faster, and he was going to comply. He wanted nothing more than to please you, fully, entirely, until you couldn’t breathe normally.

He finally started tracing circles against your clothed clit, slow, small, and you tilted your head back, eyes closed, resting against his shoulder. Your breathing became more erratic as you felt his lips against your neck again, his tongue licking on your skin as his movements became faster, one of your hands raised to cover your mouth so that the moans wouldn’t come out, while the other was gripping onto his thigh tightly.

“No, nothing of that.” He took his hand away from your neck to grab onto the wrist that was over your mouth. You gasped at his actions, wanting to hold back on your noises and he raised his lips against your ear again, grazing them against the skin now. “Letting go means your voice as well.”

You were never vocal, you didn’t even know if they were nice, or if they were just horrible and embarrassing, but all thought was cut off when you felt his fingertips on the edge of your underwear, pulling the elastic up so they could move under the fabric. Your heart stopped when you felt him, raw, against your clit, and you let out the first small moan out of your lips, almost a whimper.

And Eddie lost it.

He attacked your neck again, this time, more forcefully than before as his index and middle finger started circling on your bud, wanting to hear more of those moans, wanting to feel you move against him even more, wanting you to completely lose yourself. You were wet, too perfectly wet for him, and he was trying really hard to keep a straight mind but it was becoming a losing battle with each moan that came out of your mouth.

He ran his fingers down, through your wet folds and you gave a breathy sigh, your chest trembling at the sensation of it. You never felt this, not even with yourself, because you never really cared to explore. You just put on the vibrator on your clit and waited, and waited, but recently you didn’t have to wait much, for the past few weeks, your climaxes came quicker than before.

He coated his fingers in your slick, wetting them properly as he kissed under your ear again to keep your sensations going all over the place. He wanted to touch your breasts as well, he wanted to see them, he really needed to pull your dress down, but he knew that would take this whole thing somewhere else, and even if he desperately wanted to, he was keeping his word on just making YOU feel good.

Your eyes widened when you felt his middle finger slowly thrusting inside of you, making way, spreading you gently, but it was enough for you to arch your back slightly, wanting more of it, more of the friction it was bringing and Eddie smirked against your skin at your reaction. He started moving, slowly, in and out, testing how you moved and reacted, but then your moans increased a little bit in volume. 

He didn’t care about the people in the living room, not right now. The only person he cared about right now, was you, entirely you, and as he curled his middle finger inside of you, your eyes closed once more, letting the sensation take over you as he touched a place you never felt before, you never thought that could be achieved. 

“Oh, god–” You moaned out, and Eddie groaned against your shoulder, his pace increasing slightly as he felt your warm walls engulfing him, sucking him in, yearning for more, so he complied once again, and got his ring finger inside as well. 

Your belly was on fire as you felt the sudden stretch, and you couldn’t help it, you really couldn’t, you wanted more and more, so you met the thrusting of his fingers with your hips, making them go even deeper inside of you, your moans now coming out of your mouth loud, and breathless.

“Fuck–” Eddie couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of you, arching your back against him, and he wondered if you could feel him. If you could feel the throbbing bulge that was on his jeans, rubbing against you. If you kept doing it, he was going to finish in his pants, he knew it, but he didn’t care. He really didn’t care.

His fingers curled upwards again, and now he wasn’t thrusting in and out any more, but actually pressing the palm of his hand against your clit, while his fingers were still inside, and his movements started going up and down. Your mouth fell open as he started hitting that part of you no one has ever touched before, while rubbing your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation and your nails dug into his clothed thigh.

He told you to not think of him, but his sweet scent was on your nostrils, his lips were on your skin, his breath was on your ear, but it didn’t stop you from feeling. It didn’t stop you from letting go either. In fact, knowing it was him, knowing that his fingers were doing things you never thought anyone could do to you, and knowing he was the one making you feel good, was making you desperate, and you were loving every second of it.

Your eyes started seeing stars, clouding your vision in white, and your stomach was tightening on itself as your legs trembled in anticipation of your incoming climax. He could feel it, your walls clenching on his fingers, driving him mad, absolutely insane. His pace quickened as he bit onto your neck softly, giving it a kiss afterwards as your moans filled the room. But you almost made him freeze in place because he had not expected to hear it, because he had told you to not think of him, yet–

“Eddie– Eddie, please–” You were moaning his name, begging him to help you with your release, begging him to keep going, and he couldn’t take it anymore, letting go of your hand, with his arm wrapped around you, taking your jaw in his hand, turning your head so he could kiss you, passionately, desperate for your moans to fill his mouth.

Your moans flew immediately into his throat, growing even louder, hiding the wet noises he was provoking with the movement of his fingers, kissing him, making your release want to explode even quicker than before, heightening the feeling.

Your breaths became short gasps as your belly finally exploded, your walls clenching around his fingers and your back arched completely into his hand. He didn’t let go of your face, holding you tightly so you wouldn’t move away, swallowing your moans and whimpers, a moan of his own mixing with yours at the feeling. 

Your eyes had tears from the overwhelming sensation as he slowed his pace with his fingers, feeling you slowly unclench, helping you ride the last bit of your orgasm out, until you finally relaxed against him again. He pulled away from the kiss, but kept his face close to you as you rested your head against his shoulder, your nose in the crook of his neck. 

Your breathing was heavy and your mind was a complete mess. You never felt like that in your life, in any sense or any way, but maybe you had an idea of why that was. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, your trembling legs finally falling down, splayed on the bed this time. He had let go of your jaw and wrapped his arm around you to keep you close to him, not caring any longer if you felt him.

He looked at the glistening of his fingers and clenched his eyes against the desire of tasting you, wiping them against his comforter. He was also breathing heavily, from all the emotions he felt in past minutes, or hour. He never felt that good pleasuring someone else, never in his life, always waiting for the other to reciprocate. 

This time, he didn’t need to. He didn’t want you to. He just wanted you to feel good, by him, and him only. He opened his mouth to talk to you, but felt the soft breaths against his neck, and the raising and falling of your chest. You had fallen asleep on him. 

He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, his hand still wrapped around your frame as it guided itself up, cradling your head against his shoulder. He turned his head and he even surprised himself with his action, pressing a kiss at the top of your head.

But then, a frown came to his face. He had crossed the line. You two had crossed the line. He wondered what everything would be like after this, how you would be like after what just happened. Would you act like nothing has happened? His heart pained at that thought, his stomach turning as he thought, and thought, and when you mumbled his name against his skin, sleepily, he chuckled softly, shaking his head at himself.

There was no way he was going to act as if nothing happened.

Everything happened.

And he wanted more.

End of part 5

A/N: Yes, I did imagine Austin Butler for this. Sue me. I hope you all enjoyed this part! There's more to come, angst coming your way bby. I know it was long BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THAT A REBLOG KEEPS THE FIC ACTIVE

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[decodedlvr]

~ never did this before | virgin!Eddie Munson x virgin! Thick!Fem Reader \\ modern au

This story is based off the song Wet Dreamz by Jcole **recommend listening to it first to understand the story// can be perceived/read regardless if you are a poc; as I am mixed ♡ [descriptions of reader having tan skin and brown eyes; so it meets in the middle if you are a poc or not]

• Summary: after weeks of flirting and crushing on each other, you finally pop a serious question into your bestfriend Eddie’s head, and he has a hard time providing you with an honest answer // this is more like a rom com

• Warnings: MDNI; smut (not too explicitly) fluff, both kinda experienced? soft Eddie, cocky Eddie, sassy reader, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, he’s a little bit of a perv, masturbation, 69, protected piv, premature ejaculation, heavy petting, grinding, confessions, slight insecure thoughts? (both are 18+) word count :3.4k //sry 4 errors

Eddie’s Pov

Calculus. The last class of the day. My favorite class overall.

There she sat, giggling on her phone, showing me silly photos she took of her dog Skittle, the sun shining just right on her honey toned tanned skin, hair laying just as perfect as ever in that simple, claw clip. Curls and wavy bangs sectioned to shape her face, brown eyes that matched mine and oh those glossy lips..

I wanna kiss you so fucking bad baby.

Her outfit of the day, that new pink and black checkered shirt she got at the mall that I drove her to.

It’s so tight on you sweetheart, your tits look beautiful today.

White Reeboks as I have, but very much cleaner…

Those 100% perfectly stretchy, acid wash jeans you wear every week that fit your ass so fucking bad.. fuck don’t bend over.. don’t—

“Eddie? what’s wrong with you?”

Fuck— didn’t realize the moan that I slipped out when she dropped her phone, she cracked it..but all I could focus on were the back of her thighs when she bent over

“Sorry uh- I think I’m just sore from carrying those amps last night”, he says now rubbing his not sore bicep with a pout

Lie.

“Oh babe I’m sorry, come by later and I can rub it out for you” she replies

Why the fuck would you say that to me right now—

“Oh yeah? You’d just love to get your hands on me always huh sweetheart? ” leaning back in my seat, with a cocky smile

You blush and shove my arm playfully “you’re so stupid, you know what I meant”

——

She’s been like this for the past month, after Harringtons party. Smoking and drinking under that patio umbrella, away from everyone else. Laughing, holding on to each other for dear life. I tell her jokes, she ugly laughs. I love her laugh, it’s not fake it’s genuine like her.

We met at the drink table, both preferring whiskey over the red shit they put out.

We talked about our intrests, I was very suprised and impressed with how she carried herself. How she talked about herself. How she sat comfortably on my lap; as if we knew each other for forever.

Obviously her thick hips in that royal blue, tacky dress she wore caught my attention first

It takes a certain kinda person to make me laugh but she.. she was probably the most funniest and beautiful fucking girl I’ve never seen. A few beauty marks as she would call it, scattered down her neck and arms. Eyelashes so dark she could always pass on the mascara, the sweet charm and sass she had to her.. she was something different.

She was fresh to town and it was relief to meet someone new. Similar childhood experiences, divorced parents but her dad stopped reaching out to them. Her mom was just a bitch to her. Very narcissistic person but, she had her kind moments. She definitely wasn’t the worse mother I’ve ever heard of.

All of that lead to a heavy make out session in the bathroom.

Sitting at the edge of the toilet, her scratching the back of my head with those sharp coffin shaped nails, me squeezing the fat of her ass on my lap. Hell, I was surprised how into this she was.. considering I’ve only kissed two girls in my life.

Sure I’ve watched my fair share of porn, visited sex stores, took a few notes; even got a handy under the bleachers last year from Carol. She forgot to pay for the weed I gave her, she offered, why not.

“Oh yeah, what’s your name again?” I ask kissing down her neck

“Y/N, but you can call me anything you want right now” she whimpers at the feeling of me nipping her throat

-“fuck you’re a r-really good kisser”

“-could say the same about you sweetheart” feeling the roll of her heat over my already strained dick.

I wonder how many guys she’s done this with

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this but, there’s just something so sexy about you”—

Biggest fucking ego boot ever.

“Fuck baby, if you keep talkin to me like that I’m gonna bust”

“Awe, am I making you feel some typa way Eddie?” She smirks looking down at me

“You know you are”

—

Unfortunately that ended quicker than it started, Robin got too hungover and needed our space.

She told me her classes and we exchanged numbers.

After that we talked everyday on FaceTime after getting home from school. I show her a new guitar riff and she shows me the new necklaces or shirts she ordered.

Sometimes she’d forget she was on camera and changed out of her bra a few times.

Hey, couldn’t help but to look come on, I am just a man

I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve fucked myself to that imagine every morning.. and evening and night..

Slept on the phone together, hung out at lunch together.

I only ever seen her at lunch other than at the end of the day in Mrs. Wilson’s calculus class. Bringing us back to now

——

“Mr. Munson are you done chatting now?” Wilson knocks me out of my trance

“Sorry bout that, yes ma’am” giving her a thumbs up sitting back up straight as she rolls her eyes subtly.

You slide me note. Folded up, in blue highlighted letters

You ever have sex before? Circle Yes or No ♡

fuck—we never even discuss stuff like that! how haven’t we? Don’t embarrass yourself man

Course I have, why? what’s got you so curious? ;)

I watch her look away quickly, gulping when she covers the paper to respond back

Well.. you’re cute and shit & was wondering if you wanna come over friday..? My parents have been gone all week and..we can hang or do whatever.. ♡

Did she wanna fuck? I hope so —wait you’re a virgin idiot, wait is she? probably not

I’m already there babe ;)

I reply with an easy smile, hiding the fact I’m in a state of panic

Good.. and uh bring those handcuffs on your wall too.. ♡

No way she’s a virgin talking like that

She rushes outta the classroom at the bell, turning back with a wink

Holy shit I gotta talk to Harrington.

“-and that’s what I’m saying dude, just sweet talk her, treat her like a princess, rub her in all the right places”—

“Okay but what ARE those places? I know her like tits and shit.. and well under her panties but what does it feel like? Ya know putting in it? What if I cum too fast and she laughs or runs away and never talks to me again..”—

I’ve been pacing back in forth in Family Video, loud where all the customers could hear. Definitely loud enough for Robin to upchuck her lunch

“No Eddie- just, come back here— Rob? watch the front please?” Steve grabs me by the shoulder making a bee line to the stock room

Sitting on the empty table still trying to gather my thoughts of Steve’s advice. “Well?” I rush out

“Damn man let me sit down first” he scoffs pulling a chair over to me

“Alright, you wanna know what inside a vagina feels like right?”

“Jesus, can you just say pussy or some shit”

“Same thing” he glared

“Okay well it’s not really sexy to just say vagina-

-“god Eddie, do you wanna know or not?” I can tell I’m testing his patience, I shut my lips, nodding eagerly

“Okay, so It’s like this- well like wet and really, really warm, almost like hot bath around your dick or a tight hug”—

“Wow, a hot bath thanks for the analogy Steve, I’ll make sure to take one when I get home”

He deadpans at me. “You asked me and I’m telling you, it’s hard to really explain other than a tight, wet warm hug. Oh!” he snaps his finger”-and sometimes it’ll tighten around your cock when she’s about to cum and holy shit dude— you better hold your load because the first time I had sex, it lasted about 10 seconds” My eyes widen

“WHAT!?” I shout before him shushing me “King Steve was a minute man?”— I joke

“Hey I said at first, when you get used to having sex your stamina gets better and for me personally”— he leans in “I can last approximately 45 minutes and 27 seconds” he sits back proudly

Cocky bastard.

Shit.

How long will I last? Will jerking off more boost my stamina?

——

Since that afternoon I did as much research as a I could, making a DIY sponge fleshlight.

That was a fail, got carpet burn.

Even bought condoms from the corner store, didnt know what size i was so, i grabbed all 4 boxes

Practicing my stroke game, using my pillow as a hole.

Down. Glide. Up. Down. Guide up.

Ow, fuck, cramp, cramp

This shits hard. My back hurts.

Throwing away the 8th used condom of the day, tossing myself in my desk chair, forehead sweaty, wrists throbbing; hearing my phone go off

FaceTime from Crush🖤

“Ah, fuck”— grabbing a shirt, wiping off the excess sweat off my skin, putting my pants back on, setting the phone up on my night stand, grabbing the guitar quickly setting it on my lap— “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s up, what are you up to?”

“I could ask you the same thing why is your face so red?” She asks giggling, laying on her tummy, tits spilling out , kicking her socked feet from behind

“Just took a hot shower is all”

“But your hairs not wet?” you give me a suspicious look, “Oh yeah, I just tied it up..sooo still want me over tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah! I picked up cookie dough the edible kind because I know you like that anddddd”- she reaches over her phone to grab something—“I rented whole stab franchise for a throwback”- showing me her laptop screen

“Well, that sounds like a party to me”

“You got that right..” She replies, biting her lip as if I didn’t notice,- “Anywaysss, just calling to remind you, see you tomorrow im tired, goodnight dummy *mwah*

She always ends our calls with a kiss on screen

Fuck I’m hard again

“Can’t wait sweetheart, sweet dreams” ending the call, looking down at my bulge

Welp, gotta jerk off again

Friday. THE day I might lose my virginity to the sexiest girl in school. My best friend.

I wake up earlier than usual, do my morning ritual, a joint. My nerves making me shower twice.

Should I shave?

Would she care?

A little trim wouldn’t hurt

May or may have not nicked my balls. Not too bad, maybe she won’t notice. Finding my nicest pair of jet black jeans I own, I only wear ‘em for special occasions and a wife beater? Nah that’s too much right? A flannel would help. Yeah. Definitely.

Hey I look kinda good, checking myself out in the mirror

Alright, wallet, keys, condoms, I glance over at the cuffs on the wall. Can’t forget those, stuffing them in my back pocket

—

My palms are sweaty, fuck even my ass is sweating.. 3 cigarettes already in, on my way to her house; of course I have a bad fucking hair day today, so I just opted for a low bun.

Before I could even knock, you open the door my jaw already on the floor

“Hi dummy!” You jump giving me a hug, pulling me inside.

What the hell is she wearing

A transparent green knitted, cropped sweater

is that her nipple I see? Those goddamn Nike shorts are doing her a favor—“Someone’s excited to see me?” Kicking off my shoes

“I’m always excited to see you.. also nice hair”

and neck goddamn, what is hell is he wearing you think, already feeling horny from the sight of my neck being so exposed

those jeans are doing his fine ass a favor

fuck I’m wet already

“Come on, already got it all set up for us”

“Lead the way princess” following behind you

I need to bite those fuckin legs.

——

We always sit like this on movie nights. Me against your headboard, back against my chest. I don’t remember how it started but I love it.

“Didn’t David Arquette also play in Spree?”

I squint back at the tv, “Uh yeah yeah he did, he was Kurt’s dad I think”

She replies with a mouthful “omyeah”

My hands have been holding both sides of her hips the whole time, occasionally rubbing them with my thumbs; every time I do it your breath picks up

Something else is about to be up—

“Huh?”

“Did you even hear me? You’ve been zoning out a lot recently”, you say sitting crisscross

“Something on your mind Ed’s?”

Gulp

“No no just— “ sigh

“Yeah, you. You’ve been on my mind.”

She smiles looking down, cocking her head to the side

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about me have you?” She grins

“You have no idea. ”

My breath hitches when you straddle me

Fuck me

“Wanna tell me these thoughts you’ve been having?” she asks twirling a piece of my bang

Remember what Steve said, sweet talk her

“Why don’t I just show you pretty girl”

Her smirk instantly falls, cheeks crimson “shit.. okay”

Running my hand up your thighs firmly, wrapping my arm around your lower back, my free hand pulling your face closer into my lips. “Like that baby?”

Who the fuck are you she thinks

“Fuck, yeah kiss me again”, I stare blankly until my eyes turn to pure lust, pushing her down to her back climbing on top to ease my tongue back into her mouth, my hips grinding into yours, hearing you whimper…

You’d think that’d make me harder but it’s when you grind back into me that did it

“You’re so beautiful you know that baby?.. fuck been missing these lips for weeks..”

“Shit, me too, been needing you so close to my body recently it’s been killin me,” she whines, rubbing her hands down my chest

—“that’s why I asked you to come over, could tell you were feeling me too”

You’re right about that, I mumble sucking your neck,

I’ve practiced giving myself hickies on my arms freshmen year.

Eddie, score

“That tank top Eddie.. t-take off the flannel let me see you? Please?” You ask giving me doe eyes. I sit up eagerly throwing it about, she sits up on her elbows, throwing off her sweater

The goddamn groan I let out

Jesus Christ

You lie back down bashfully covering yourself

A whore being shy huh?

“Whattt? She asks feeling self conscious,

“You’re..fuck.. just let me get a closer look please?” I plead, you nod shyly

Squeezing your breasts hard in my palm, licking my lips, nipping them, kissing them, hearing you gasp “holy shit -

“What??”

I do it again, in combination with my tongue, She doesn’t stop me she moans, making me feel bolder, “ Lemme take these off?” My thumbs already ready to yank your shorts down

You don’t answer

“Hey, it’s just me you know you’re beautiful to me, right?”

“Yes..you can take em off” she whispers

Thinking it’d be hot to yank them down quick like those sex movies

I try it..

“Ow! Fuck what the hell?” She jerks

I didn’t know she had the goddamn drawstring tied. , “Ow..you pout rubbing your hip, “Shit I’m sorry! I’m sorry”

I’m already fucking up, “It’s okay.. it’s just tied” she says undoing them pulling them off herself, holding her hands in her lap

I lean down to kiss both hips as an apology, looking up at you slowly undoing your hands

Cute little hair she has

“Can I um..”

She looks down at me gaining back her confidence, “You wanna eat me don’t you?” My eyes widen, gripping her side, “Yesss.. really bad” but I don’t know how to —

“Can I see you too?” again with that lip bite

“Of course” okay.. here goes nothing whispering to myself , yanking my jeans and all down in one swift motion, staring at the spot on the ceiling

You scoff with the sour look, “Oh my god”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

“You’re packing Eddie”

“Oh..thank fuck, really? I wouldn’t say that but..” I sit back in front of her

“Can I touch it?” You ask still staring at my cock

-..But I wanna taste you.. what if we..you lay on me but backwards..? Like 69?” I recommend

She nods eagerly, nervously but very excited, “Okay.. just don’t look at my asshole.. there’s a spot on it that looks like I didn’t wipe but it’s not what you think! It’s a freckle..”, I chuckle, rubbing your cheek nodding

Laying down flat, you swing your legs over my face

Oh god fuck, “Such a pretty pussy” i mumble

Suck a pretty cock you think

You’re both horny as fuck, both licking on each other immediately —“Jesus fuck!” I shout, hearing and feeling you choke on my dick

“Y/n, y-you done this before?”

“Yeah—“

Damnit.

-“But it was with a guy at my old school, said I was the best head he ever had” , you say rubbing my balls

Hot.

Okay Eddie do what feels right

so that’s the clit? how cute

Bringing my lips around your nub, licking you, tasting you, “Oh god why do you taste so good, you smell so..sweet?”

“Was that a question?” You ask popping my dick outta your mouth

“No, no just the sweetest pussy I’ve never tasted”-

the only pussy I’ve ever tasted

I’ve never smelt anything like this, I think I’m addicted

Flicking my tongue a few time feeling you react in a high pitched moan, sucking and massaging it lightly, my eyes flutter spotting your ass hole winking at me

“Holy shit” she’s pretty everywhere

“What?”

“You have such a pretty ass” blurting out

“Eddie! I told you not to look!” She whines trying to climb off, “Shut up I do what I want”saying firmly, pulling you back down by your thighs; sticking my pointer finger in your cunt,

so that’s the squeeze Steve was talking about

“Ohmyg— fuckk yes please” she vibrates around me, a guttural moan purging from my throat, curling my finger like they said —

“Oh! Fuck yes keep doing that Eddie baby please”—

“I am, I am baby you just suck my dick”—

Holy shit who am I—

“-Eddie I think I’m gonna cum yep, I’m gonna cum..”—

“Wait really?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” Asking again “YES EDDIE SHUT UP AND KEEP GOING, FUCK”—

Thrusting faster, licking faster I feel your wetness roll down and down into my mouth instantly making me cum in yours

“Fuck baby like that, fuck did you..just swallow?—“ I ask but you proceed to keep sucking-“OKAY OKAY, stop, s-shit!”

Pleading trying to stop you from overstimulating me further, “Shit.. sweetheart, that dude was right, that was the best head I’ve ever got”

The only head I’ve ever got

She lays back down beside me with a large grin,” Was that your first time getting head? You came so fast for me”

Lie.

Not replying I get up, finding the condom in my Jean pocket, “What’re ya doing?” You ask with a questioned expression, “Condom?” I hold up “Oh, oh yeah yeah right duh”—

Fuck I forgot with which way it goes on— got it

Turning back to you, cock still hard, nudging your core

You give me a small smile, watching me hesitantly about to slip my tip in

“Wait! Wait!”-

“What? Sorry, I didn’t ask”—

“Eddie I need to tell you something..”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell you definitely know what you’re doing but I just.. be gentle because I’ve never done this before..”

never done this before, never done this before

I stare like a deer in headlights, the weight off my shoulders lifted. I laugh sarcastically to myself , “That’s, well.. I should probably tell you I’ve never done it either.. like ima”—

“Virgin too?”

“Yeah, surprise?” feeling embarrassed, “How did I not know that? We tell each other everything” shrugging, “Not sure, but I’m glad you told me before I stuck ya”

“Ew don’t say stuck me weirdo”

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, I had to ask Steve for advice.. I figured you would know more I mean since you wanted my handcuffs”-, you bite your lip, head shaking

“I said that because, I figured you’d know how to use em”

“There actually just for decoration sweetheart, looked kinda metal”, we laugh in awe with each other , “But here we are..” I say biting the skin on my lip—

“Yeah here we are” you look back up at me, hopeful, “Do you wanna stop?”

“No..do you wanna stop?”

“Nah, been hoping you’d be my first actually”, you blush at my statement pulling me down for a deep kiss , “Let’s do it..”

“..but what if I cum too fast? that would be humiliating”—

- “I understand how it works.. don’t feel bad if you do, I promise I won’t laugh Ed’s” she squeezes my hand lovingly

My heart is erect

I nod, looking over all of you again, spreading your thighs a little wider, “I’ll go slow”

Furrowing my brows in consentration, slipping my tip in, surprisingly not easy mother fuck—

“Holy fuck you’re so-

“Tight? I know I have a hard time fingering my self as is”

“Why would you tell me that at this very second,” I try not to laugh, holding my shit together, “that’s so hot by the way,” bottoming you out, we gasp in sync

“Oh god”-

“What?”

“Holy god”—

“What!?? You alright?” She asks , “I’m about to cum already”—

“I told you, it’s okay”

“I know but that’s so embarrassing”

You clench around me on purpose, suddenly your eyes widen, feeling a warmth from inside, while also hearing me grunt almost in pain above you

Silence.

“Im so sorry fuck,” pulling out, shocked at how full my condom is, “Did you cum?”, she scrunches her nose, “No silly”

“But you squeezed me?”

“Yeah but, I didn’t have an orgasm”

Fucking Steve

-“But Steve said when a girl cums she clenchs around us” explaining further—

“First off, I’m gonna need you to not take advice from Steve and second, I mean according to my girlfriends we do.. it’s like a few squeezes but apparently we really squeeze for a long time when we do cum? Maybe even shake? I’m not sure but I think I’d know when I felt it”

Well shit

He looks like a sad puppy this won’t do you think

“But hey, we can try again right? Don’t be embarrassed if anything it’s kinda hot”

“Really?”

“I mean yeah, I made you cum in under like 1 second, biggest ego boot ever” you lighten the mood, nudging my shoulder smiling at me, pulling me for another kiss, “Don’t ever tell anyone that” holding my forehead to yours

You smirk, holding your pinky up “I promise”, Interlocking mine, noticing your body shifted closer, staring at your lips, “Let me try again Sweetheart” your eyes also on mine, nodding, crawling back to you, chasing your touch, taking each others breath—

Was that a car door??

“Is someone here?”

“Honey we’re home!”

FUCK, not now!!

(again recommend you listen to Wet dreamz by Jcole; it’s a bop)

reblogs appreciated // this was fun. let me know your thoughts? I do realize the smut was kinda rushed? Should there be a part 2? Suggestions? Comments? Feel like I should have kept going for them to restart again but I dunno🤷🏽‍♀️

[h0ney66]

hi hi !! can u write dirty talk stuff w alastor? maybe with reading teasing him about how “properly” he speaks n stuff !! pls add some degradation too if u can tysm

I hope this is what you were looking for anon <3

You looked up at your boyfriend with adoring eyes, your head laid on his shoulder as he read a book, one leg crossed over the other, an arm around your body. It would soon be an hour since he began reading, and you were growing impatient for his attention.  

“Baby, you’ve been buried in that book for an hour,” you said with a pout, putting a finger between the pages, prompting him to look at you. “I miss you”  

Alastor gave you a small smile, setting the book aside and scooping you into his arms, looking at you lovingly.  

“Oh my dearest, you’re so clingy aren't you? Do tell me what my sweet girl wants” his voice was smooth, deep, and carried an elegant flair that never failed to make you squirm with pleasure. 

“You know Al, I don’t think I've ever heard a voice as perfect as yours,” you say softly, playing with his dark brown locks. “Always so proper, so clean”  

“Well sweetheart, its the right way to talk” Alastor says with a deep chuckle “Does it bother you?” 

You purse you lips, nervously fidgeting with your hands. 

“Well it doesn't bother me per se, its just that sometimes... sometimes I wonder what it would be like to hear you talk... less modestly” 

Alastor’s eyes light up, darkening with lust. He held you closer, his hands holding your waist a bit tighter. 

“Less modest huh?” his voice was intoxicating, his gaze hypnotizing. 

You nodded, shyly looking down at his hands. Alastor’s fingers found their way to your chin, lifting it gently so your gaze met his. 

“Cmon sugar, don't get shy on me, you want me to dirty talk you, isn't that right” 

All you could do is whisper a little “yes” under your breath. With that, Alastor grabbed you by the waist, gently sitting you on the sofa, your knees to your chest as he leaned forwards, his hands caressing your arms.  

“You’re such a pretty little thing, you know that, the way you get all shy on me as if you’re not soaking your panties right now”  

Your cheeks flushed red, your skin felt like it was on fire. Your bottom lip trembled with need as Alastor spoke, his words working you up more than you thought they would. 

“What is it, can my slut not speak? Is she too wet and desperate to form words.”  

Alastor grabbed your face, his thumb brushing over your lips as he licked his own, hungrily. 

“Fucking dumb whore, all she can do is look at me with those big, slutty eyes”  

His touch became rougher, now cupping your face in his hands, his body closer to yours. You trembled under him, body shaking with need. 

“Can’t wait to see you on your knees, sucking my fat cock like the stupid cockwhore you are. You always look so fucking pretty like that, all ruined, mascara running and spit and precum all over your face. I love using my little doll” 

A small whimper escapes your lips as he spoke, Alastor’s eyes were now glazed over with a predatory look, one that drove you insane in the best way possible.  

“I bet you love this, don't you bitch, bet you love when I treat you like the pathetic, desperate little toy you are.”  

Alastor picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he headed upstairs, then throwing you on the bed you shared.  

“Alright my slut, let’s see just how wet you are now, let’s see how fucking pathetic you are when I talk dirty to you” 

With a swift move, he slipped off your panties, the cold air hitting your glistening cunt. Alastor laughed, looking down at you with a proud expression. He slapped your pussy roughly, making you yelp and squirm, which only made him hold onto your thighs aggressively, bringing you closer to him.  

“My cute slut, all wet for me, I’ll give her what she wants”  

Alastor's head buried into your thighs his lips kissing down to your wet core, sending shivers down your spine. 

Alastor would quickly learn just how much power his voice really had over you, and he’d make sure to remember it very, very well. 

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 12/10/2024 George Russell- Dacryphillia

Plot: George thinks your so pretty, but he thinks you’re even prettier when you cry for him

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, , fingering, blowjob, throatfucking, reader! Crying and tearing up etc 18+ Minors DNI

If George was being honest you were the most attractive, prettiest girl he’d ever met and that was … well that was something.

The way your ass looked in jeans, and then all those lingerie sets from La Perla that you teased him with for when he come back home.

The way your doe eyes would always look at him in confusion or curiosity when he asked you something you didn’t quite know about.

The way your plump pink lips parted slightly when you were listening to someone intently and they made a cute little heart shape.

The way your hair always naturally seemed to fall flawlessly even after you guys had just had a night of sexy fun.

But George always thought you were prettiest when your eyes got a little glassy and red lines would appear down your cheeks when the tears that had fallen and not gotten held up in your eyes rolled down.

And he always made sure if you weren’t tearing up in the first 10 minutes he wasn’t pleasing you well enough. And I’d you handy made tears fall down by 15 minutes he saw himself as a complete failure.

“George, need you” you whined as you tried to get him off the sofa away from his phone where he was scrolling through TikTok’s, mostly edits of himself.

“What’d you need baby?” He asks not looking up from his phone as he watches a baby llama sing on his fyp.

“You, need you George” you whine looking over him and sitting on your knees as you lightly push his arm to try and get more of a reaction from him.

He looks up hearing that whine in your voice, one that he knew all too well, he called it the horny voice because that is basically exactly what it is, even though you hated to admit that and when ever he said it you’d refuse that’s what it was .

“Awwwww come on my love” he says putting his phone down and patting his thigh.

You changed position from on your knees to straddling across him and both his thighs. He now had a solid grip on your hips as he looks over you.

“What Mascara are you wearing today?” He asks looking at your eyes trying to see if he can learn the difference.

“The YSL One” you say cocking your head to the side in confusion.

“That’s not you’re waterproof one right?” He asks with a smirk and immediately you know what kind of night it is. You shake your head, to let him know it’s your standard Mascara.

His hands travel under your skirt in between the gap left from you straddling him and finds it’s way into your already soaked underwear. You’d been needing him for some time and got yourself pretty worked up.

Once his fingers found there way round your underwear he immediately plunged two fingers into your wet hole.

“Oh my god” you cry out raising your hips to help him get deeper if that was even possible considering how deep he already was scissoring his fingers into you. His free hand that had previously be grouping at your boobs joined his other one, quickly rubbing on your clit with a harsh pattern causing your hips to jump at the sudden sensation.

Your hips tried to rock into him your hands naturally falling around his neck tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck moaning his name while telling him how good he was making you feel.

“So beautiful. Come on baby, wanna see those glassy eyes” he begs trying to get you to look at him. He knew exactly how to get you there, he knew edging you, quite harshly too should do the trick. In bursts he made sure to stop and start, bringing you so close to the point he could feel you tightening for him before completely stopping leaving your shaking above him and heavily frustrated.

“Georgie please” you cry your eyes glassy and that’s exactly what he wanted to see. A grin spread across his face, happy that he was starting to see exactly what he had wanted too. But he wasn’t there just yet. He still had to get those red stains trailing down your cheeks that he loved oh so much.

“Okay on your knees baby. It’s my turn” he says pulling his fingers completely out of you before sucking them clean, they release out of his mouth with a soft pop.

“But I didn’t-“ you start but are immediately interrupted by George.

“Don’t argue with me baby, knees now” he says in a calm yet sexy voice, one that you knew meant business.

You get on your knees looking and watching him as he pulls his jeans all the way down, showing you the boner stuffed in his boxer shorts right now, begging and straining to be let loose.

“Can i?” You ask, nodding to his lap and he only nods. You start by licking him through his boxers, delicious moans coming from him that you’d been craving to hear all night, and now you’d finally got them.

You tease him, palming him through the boxers before you pull them down off his hips, his dick slapping lightly against his stomach.

You grab it in your fist, giving it a harsh testing squeeze eliciting a inhale gasp from George above you, he watched you as you kicked over his slit paying attention to just the head while your hand squeezes the base.

But that wasn’t enough for George. No he needed to be in your mouth, and not just a little bit … no he wanted to feel the inside of your throat. He wanted to hear you cough as he pulled out of you when you tapped out because it came to much. He wanted to see the tears stream down your face from such a big intrusion in you mouth.

So he stood up, one hand grabbing your hair into a loose pony tail to hold your head in place before he pushes his dick into your mouth.

“So beautiful, open up”

You open your mouth as wide as possible to accommodate him comfortably for both of you. No teeth involved, but the minute he stated thrusting into your mouth, the head of his dick touching the back of your throat your eyes rolled back to just let it happen.

Your hands gripped his thighs trying to ground yourself as you steadied your breathing as much as you could.

“Fuck so wet, feels so good” he cries looking down at your closed and tightly shut eyes.

You could feel his grip tighten as he tried to bully his cock further down your throat. After a few thrusts tears were fully streaming down your face and you had to tap out to catch your breath.

“You okay?” He asks as he pulls out looking at you and you splutter a bit before looking up at him. He’d finally got you right where he wanted you, tear stains down your cheeks, tears still wreaking havoc down your face and your eyes all pretty and glassy.

“Your so beautiful like this baby, I swear” he smiles at you and you know he’s right. Because you don’t care how anyone else views you but George.

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